*21*
Voyager II,
June 10
"Hi, I'm Marie Stevens," Marie said as she looked around the small crew quarters. Her gear was neatly stacked in the corner by the empty bed.
The other woman looked up from her unpacking. "Susan Nicoletti. Welcome to Voyager. Have you been thoroughly poked and prodded?"
Marie smiled as she carefully placed her wooden box on top of the small chest. "Yes. I knew that checking in required a *complete* physical, DNA scans and listening to a boring recitation of the rules, regulations, but...Please tell me that before our first shoreleave, the CMO doesn't deliver a health lecture as well?" She threw her duffel bag on the bed with a little too much force; clothing spilled out onto the floor. She knelt to gather them up quickly.
Susan chuckled. "This is your first deep space assignment? And yes, the Doc lectures about the possibility of contracting alien diseases before every away mission as well. I remember on the first Voyager the lecture was just over an hour. This time it will be longer; he knows more. What's your field?"
"Biosciences," Marie said. She didn't need to ask Susan the same question, as the yellow trim on her uniform indicated that she was in engineering. "Actually, my specialty is virology." She tossed her wayward clothes back on the bed and started folding.
"Have you met Dr. Zimmerman yet? He's our CMO."
"The hologram? Not yet. One of the other doctors checked me in." Marie had been surprised to learn that a hologram had been assigned as CMO. She'd read several of his publications after learning of her assignment to Voyager, though, and had to admit he definitely had a solid understanding of some rather exotic sounding viruses.
"He's more than a hologram," Sue corrected her. "He's a bloody genius. Just don't tell him I said that. His ego's big enough already."
"I hear he's been nominated for the Phlox Award."
Susan rolled her eyes. "For major contributions to the areas of medical and biological knowledge, awarded every ten years, as he likes to keep telling us." Susan tossed her own empty duffel bag into the closet. "Have you had lunch yet? I was thinking of trying out the replicators in the Mess Hall." She laughed to herself. "Though of course it won't feel like Voyager without Neelix in the kitchen."
"Neelix?" Marie asked, puzzled.
"Ambassador Neelix of Talax. He came back with us on the original Voyager. He's a real sweetheart-did so much for us on that trip, acting as our guide, ambassador, cook, morale officer. He and his wife will be on this mission as well, but they're aboard the Pioneer."
"What's the Delta Quadrant like?" Marie asked eagerly.
"Not so different from here," said Sue at once. "Like any starship assignment, there were long periods of routine punctuated by moments of terror. At least the Borg won't be a consideration this time, I hope." She caught the alarmed look in Marie's eyes. "Relax. This time we won't be a lone ship-there's strength in numbers."
Marie nodded and tried to smile.
"Would you like to get something to eat now?" Sue asked. "We could stop by Sickbay or the labs on our way. You'll have a chance to meet the Doctor."
"Zimmerman?" Marie hesitated. "Not right now. I'd rather eat first." She added, "I'm still not sure what I ate this morning-and that was a long time ago."
"Food it is then," agreed Sue. They started walking through the corridors.
Marie stared around her in fascination. It was finally sinking in that she was actually on board Voyager. Maybe not the grand original which had come back from the Delta Quadrant, but its namesake. And they were heading back to the same place. She realized she was looking forward to it, as well as serving with the fabled Captain Janeway. Maybe Sue would be willing to tell her a few stories over lunch.
*22*
Voyager II,
June 11
B'Elanna's first impression as they entered their new quarters was of the size. It was big, definitely larger than their quarters on the original Voyager.
"Looks like we'll have plenty of room," Tom said, mirroring her thoughts. He set his wriggling daughter down, keeping one of her hands in his. "And I see it's the same old Starfleet dynamic color scheme-beige on white."
"We can add our own touches," B'Elanna said, as she set the duffel containing their overnight things on the floor. It would probably take several days to get all their stuff moved in. She shook her head at the thought. They definitely had too much stuff.
"We live here?" Miral asked as she looked around curiously.
"Yep, this is our new home, pumpkin," Tom answered. "And that must be *our* bedroom," he whispered to B'Elanna, pointing to the left of the main living area. A large bed was just visible through the open doorway. Miral was two and a half now, and the days of her crib being in the same room as her parents' bed had definitely passed.
Tom walked past the dining table toward the couch. It fronted a wide window with a view of space, which was mostly of the UP outer docking ring at the moment. "Look, Miral." He pointed beyond the shelf-lined interior wall that partially separated the dining area from the sitting area. "I think this is your bed."
As B'Elanna joined them she saw that the small alcove off the sitting area was now furnished with a single bed and chest of drawers. A smaller window framed the stars.
"I see the stars!"
Tom grinned. "There's nothing like seeing the stars from your bed. And you can wish on them every night."
"Yay!" Miral shouted, familiar now with many of Earth's children's stories and fairy tales. With that she pulled away from her father, and a moment later she was bouncing happily on the bed.
B'Elanna smiled and turned to give the dining area a closer inspection. The built-in cupboard contained plenty of space, but more importantly there was a full service replicator right next to it.
"I can put my toaster right here." Tom came up behind her and patted the countertop.
B'Elanna looked at him. "You think you could ever live without that toaster, Tom?"
Tom looked horrified. "And give up toast with peanut butter for breakfast? No way!"
B'Elanna grinned. She enjoyed baiting him, since he always rose to the occasion. "I think I forgot to pack it."
"I packed it, and I know exactly where it is."
"Damn." B'Elanna with mock frustration, and Tom smiled triumphantly. She had to admit toast from the toaster had a crisp texture and taste that one couldn't get from a replicator. She understood why Captain Janeway had stocked her quarters with a coffee grinder and several kilos of coffee beans before she'd even unpacked her clothes. That was the rumor anyway.
"Miral."
Miral had abandoned her bed, and was running through the living area. Though she stopped when her father said her name, there was a flash of rebellion in her eyes, and a mutinous set to her lips. "Don't run," she said before her father could speak, no doubt remembering her mother's admonition a short time earlier in engineering.
Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "You can't run on most of the ship, but these quarters are your home. Run all you want."
Miral's face lit up and a moment later she was running again, zigzagging across the room, skirting around the furniture.
"Tom..."
"It is her home now. And we'll childproof where we need to."
They'd had plenty of experience with that already. Miral ran around the coffee table, missing the sharp edge by mere millimeters, and B'Elanna frowned. "We can't childproof everything."
"Nope," Tom agreed. "But she's a kid. She's going to get a few bruises."
She already had. Though B'Elanna rarely considered her own safety, her daughter was a different matter. Still, she knew bumps and scrapes came with the territory of childhood, and Miral barely seemed to notice them. She watched her daughter duck under the window shelf, this time nearly banging her skull. "I guess it's good that she has your hard head."
"*My* hard head?" Tom asked incredulously.
"I don't have a hard head." B'Elanna ignored Tom's snort and moved toward the bedroom. She noted the large closet and built-in chest of drawers, and glanced into the bathroom, which had all the necessary amenities. They would be more than comfortable here, and she knew that was by design. For a former Maquis and a former convict, they'd become highly valued officers in Starfleet. Sometimes that still astonished her.
Tom walked into the bedroom with Miral right behind him. He dropped the duffel on the bed as Miral sped around the room, inspecting every corner. Then she ran past her mother into the bathroom, and immediately turned on the water in the sink.
"Miral, don't play with the water."
"Washing my hands," Miral said enthusiastically, as if it wasn't something her parents usually had to force her to do.
B'Elanna rolled her eyes, but let her daughter proceed. She looked back at Tom, who had taken something out of the duffel and was placing it on one of the nightstands. "Tom, is that..."
"I figured we could start putting a few personal items in place." He grinned at her. "Unfortunately the bat'leth wouldn't fit in the duffel."
B'Elanna stared at the holographic image displayed in the ornate frame. She still had a hard time believing her father had hung onto it for so long.
"It really was nice of your dad to bring this to the party."
B'Elanna had been glad to see her father at the goodbye party Tom's parents had hosted, though she hadn't expected him to come. Or maybe she hadn't let herself expect him. She still wasn't used to counting on him, even though he'd made every effort to involve himself in her life during the past eighteen months. But it was the gift her father had given her that had most surprised-and moved-her.
"How's that?" Tom asked, adjusting the frame on the nightstand.
B'Elanna stared at the holo of her mother. It had been taken when Miral had been several years younger than B'Elanna was now. Miral looked youthful and vibrant. The strong, sharp lines of her face gave her a fierce beauty, while her dark eyes glittered with a mixture of humor and satisfaction. It was a look B'Elanna had rarely seen in her mother's eyes after her parents' marriage had ended. Her father told her he'd kept this picture because even though the marriage hadn't worked, he'd never forgotten Miral, and he'd never stopped caring about her. But now he thought B'Elanna should have her mother with her, and he'd insisted she take the picture he'd kept for so long.
B'Elanna wondered if her father had somehow found out that she'd kept no pictures of her mother after their acrimonious parting. Certainly he couldn't know that her impulsive act of rejection had become a source of immense regret over the years. Or maybe he could, since he'd experienced numerous regrets of his own. Though her uncle had also given her several pictures of her mother when she'd visited Qo'noS, this picture had already become very special to her. It was a tie not only to her mother, but her father as well-
"B'Elanna?"
Tom was watching her and she smiled. "It's perfect."
"Good. We'll make room for the rest later."
Miral brushed past her mother's legs, her hands still wet from the sink. "That's *my* gramma." She gave her grandmother Miral that special designation because they shared the same name. "Where's Gramma 'Licia? And Pop Pop Owen, and Papa John, and Uncle Icheb, and Aunt-"
"We still have to unpack those pictures," B'Elanna said, before Miral could name her entire extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins on both sides. Over the past year and a half they'd amassed a collection of holos of Tom's parents, his sisters and their families, her uncle and cousins on Qo'noS, as well as her uncle and cousins on her father's side. And Tom had taken a holo of her father at the party. Along with the holos of Miral from babyhood through toddlerhood, and the old holos of their *family* from the original
Voyager, she wasn't sure where they were going to put them all. And while she'd sometimes felt the need to impose some private time, it gave her a warm feeling knowing that there were so many people who'd become family to her.
Tom reached down and scooped his daughter into his arms. "Tell you what, sweetheart. Tomorrow after mommy and I finish working, we'll move our box of pictures up here first, and fill every shelf and tabletop with them. But right now, how about we go to the mess hall and see what everyone's eating for dinner."
Miral wriggled against Tom's embrace, her arms reaching toward the duffel. "Toby come!"
Tom pulled the stuffed targ out of the duffel. Though Miral had dozens of stuffed animals-most now headed to storage-B'Elanna's old, much-mended friend Toby had become her favorite companion.
"Why don't we let Toby stay here and get used to his new home?" B'Elanna suggested.
"Besides, Toby only likes replicated food," Tom reminded her. "We'll put him by the replicator so he can fix something, as long as he cleans up."
"He does!" Miral said gleefully, handing Toby over to her mother.
He always did, because Toby invariably "ate" while Miral was away or asleep, and left not a crumb behind. Tom grinned at B'Elanna, and she settled Toby carefully on the counter as they left.
Five minutes later they walked into the mess hall. It was an almost exact replica of the original Voyager mess hall, and despite the fact that nearly half the crew hadn't yet checked in, most of the tables were occupied. Gerry Culhane, Trish Gallagher and Delia O'Brien waved from one table and Tom returned their gesture. At another table Vorik caught B'Elanna's eye and gave her a polite Vulcan nod before returning to his conversation with Tuvok.
"Neelix!"
Tom's greeting pulled B'Elanna's attention to the kitchen. Neelix stood behind the counter, framed by several steaming pots on the stove behind him as he chatted with Sarexa. Sarexa greeted them warmly as they approached.
"Good evening, Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral."
"Welcome, Paris-Torres family," Neelix added, a broad smile on his face.
"Neelix!" After repeating her father's enthusiastic greeting, Miral held out her arms and Neelix leaned forward so she could hug him around the neck. Then she demanded to hug Sarexa too.
"Neelix, what are you doing here?" B'Elanna asked. The last she'd heard he'd been assigned to Pioneer with the other ambassadors. And in accordance to standard starship operations, there was no full time cook assigned to Voyager II. That position on the original Voyager-created for and by Neelix-had been a result of the very irregular circumstances.
"You've been transferred to Voyager?" Tom guessed before Neelix could speak.
Neelix shook his head. "No. Sarexa and I will be traveling on Pioneer. But Captain Janeway gave us the official tour this afternoon. She suggested I might want to cook dinner tonight for old time's sake."
"I seem to recall you made the suggestion," Sarexa said dryly.
Neelix grinned. "But the captain did immediately accept my offer, sweetling."
Sarexa smiled back. "That's true. She has a soft spot for you."
"The captain also assigned us guest quarters for the night, so we can explore more of the ship ourselves later," Neelix told B'Elanna and Tom.
"It's a beautiful ship, isn't it, Miral," Tom said, glancing at his daughter, who nodded her head furiously in agreement. "And we're thrilled you're here, Neelix. What's on the menu tonight?"
"Kavulian stew, Rynax flatbread, and leola root casserole," Neelix replied proudly.
"Umm! I'm looking forward to it. We've really missed your cooking."
B'Elanna smiled at Tom's enthusiastic response, though she silently echoed his sentiment. She couldn't say she loved Neelix's cooking, but she had grown used it during their eight years in the Delta Quadrant. And she'd actually missed it. Or maybe it was less the cooking than the cook. Whatever Neelix served, he always served it with genuine warmth, a cheerful outlook, and surprisingly astute observations, all of which had helped her deal with more than one crisis. She regretted that he was only here for a visit.
"We've missed *you* Neelix," she said. She smiled at Sarexa. "I wish we could have seen both of you more often on Earth."
"As do I," Neelix said. "But Pioneer and Voyager will be traveling the same route on this journey, and Captain Janeway has graciously given us an open invitation to visit Voyager as often as we like."
"That's great, Neelix," Tom said. "Maybe you can even be our guest chef on occasion."
"With pleasure, if Captain Janeway is agreeable," Neelix said, beaming. "I enjoy the challenges of my ambassadorial position, but I must admit cooking is my first love. I find it gives me a wonderful sense of relaxation-"
"Neelix."
"Oh." Neelix heeded Sarexa's warning tone and rushed over to the stove to remove a pot just before it boiled over. He sniffed at the contents and nodded. "I've also taken it upon myself to leave a copy of my bestseller 'Delta Quadrant Recipes by Neelix' here for the crew's perusal," he said as he placed the pot on a serving pad. "Of course many of my recipes call for very precise measurements and exact cooking times. In the hands of a novice the dishes can turn out a little...peculiar."
"Maybe Miral and I will try out one or two of your recipes," Tom said, giving B'Elanna a mischievous grin as Miral clapped her hands in anticipation.
B'Elanna gave him a look that let him know that was not going to happen in this lifetime. Besides, she didn't really want to imagine Neelix's dishes any more peculiar than they already were. "You'd better stick to pizza, flyboy."
"Not to worry," Neelix interjected. "I downloaded all the recipes into the replicator database, so you can treat yourself to one of my gourmet creations any time." He smiled at Miral. "Would you like to help me fix your plates?"
"Yes!" Miral responded eagerly as Neelix lifted her over the counter and gave her a small pair of kitchen mitts to wear (ones that looked a lot like the mitts Naomi had once worn as Neelix's "special helper"). He held Miral's small hand in his own and guided the ladle from the steaming pots to the plates, careful to keep the hot food from spilling.
As Neelix and Miral heaped food onto the three plates, B'Elanna glanced around the room. It was filled with faces-some familiar, some new, some animated, some solemn-along with the sound of dishes clinking together, the murmur of lively conversation, and occasional bursts of laughter. Permeating it all there was a sense not only of unified purpose, but also of cheerful camaraderie.
"It just seems so right."
Tom glanced at her. "What?"
B'Elanna had been talking to herself, but she'd obviously spoken loud enough for Tom to hear. "This. The mess hall, Neelix, everyone here together eating dinner...all of it. It feels...right."
She didn't know exactly how to put it in better words, but Tom smiled as if he understood completely. "You mean it feels like home?"
That was it. She'd called a lot of places home, and some of them, especially recently, had been good places. But here...in a mess hall on a starship named Voyager-she realized of all the places she'd been, it still felt the most like home.
As she took Miral so Neelix could finish serving their food, she answered Tom's question in a soft, gratified voice. "Exactly."