In the Arms of Family
Story by Janet and Christina
Written by Janet, Christina, Cybermum, Diane, Julie,Mary, Penny, and Rocky
Compiled by Janet

"Enter."

Alicia stepped inside the door and surveyed her son's quarters. The vista outside their viewports was magnificent. From the way Voyager was oriented in space while hooked up to Deep Space Nine, Tom and B'Elanna's quarters faced out towards Bajor and the center of the galaxy, thick with glowing stars.

Miral was curled up in her bed asleep, a stuffed targ clutched in her chubby fingers. Tom was sitting at the computer terminal, his head haloed by the starfield behind him. He was working at something, probably the flight plan to Earth - assuming they ever received clearance to leave the station. "Hi, Mom," Tom whispered. "I'm afraid you're too late to play with your granddaughter. She went down early tonight."

"That's not why I'm here. Tom, call your father."

Tom's face froze into a mask.

"Tom!" Alicia hissed. "You have to understand. I told you your father was upset because he couldn't come to Deep Space Nine to meet you..."

"Heartbroken was the word I believe."

"Well, I lied. Try devastated. Inconsolable. Not to mention furious. Because all of them are true. He didn't *dare* come, Tom. He's still fighting to get Voyager's crew home, but I hope the fact Voyager's still here means he's scaring the pants off certain people - who shall remain nameless but who have 'admiral' tacked in front of their names - who are afraid of what the court of public opinion may decide about them if they try to stroke their egos by being hard-asses towards your crewmates. They'd rather look good to the public, and too many people would resent it if they came down hard on you."

"After all that's happened, are you telling me there are still some admirals who are afraid of a handful of Maquis who've been lost on the other side of the galaxy for over eight years?"

"Yes, because they don't want anyone to think of the Maquis at all. The spin doctors want to make believe they never existed; never told us what was happening to them; never asked for our help when they were being slaughtered; never warned us the same thing was going to happen to us; but of course, it did. If we'd listened to the Maquis and stopped the Cardassians earlier, maybe a *lot* of people who died in the DMZ, on Betazed, on Earth-all over the quadrant-would still be alive."

"But now someone *is* speaking up and shining the lights on their hypocrisy..." Tom said, as the light of understanding dawned in his eyes.

"Of course. Since they aren't sure what to do, they'd rather do the same thing they did to the other Maquis-ignore you and hope you go away."

"We've been gone for eight years! We're not going to be put off forever...although they've put us off for quite a while. So that's what's holding us up here?"

"You didn't think it was because they hadn't rounded up enough confetti for the parade, do you?"

Tom leaned back in his chair with his eyes shut, the color draining from his face. "And my situation? I don't suppose you've heard..."

Alicia grabbed her son's right hand in both of hers. "No. And your father has been asking them over and over again. No one seems to know anything. If they do know, they aren't telling us."

To stood up and turned towards the viewport, watching the stars outside, or pretending to, Alicia couldn't be sure which.

Miral's curly head suddenly popped up from her crib. Although Alicia and Tom's whispering had become increasingly intense prior to that, they both were completely silent at that moment Miral awakened. Perhaps the silence woke her. Whatever the reason, Miral called out "Dada" in the drawn out, reedy tone of a child awakened when she was still tired.

"I'll get her, Tom. I want to spoil my granddaughter a little."

Tom shook his head and sat down again. Out of the corner of her eye, while Alicia picked up Miral and crooned softly to her, she watched Tom as he *finally* took the hint and contacted Ops.

"Please put a call through to Admiral Owen Paris. From his son Thomas Eugene Paris. I'll be right here until you make the connection."

"Dad. Hi!"

::Tom! Oh, Tom, it's so good to see you. How is your mother? And B'Elanna and Miral?::

"B'Elanna's in Engineering, but Mom is here, busy spoiling your granddaughter."

::Good, good. I can't wait to do some spoiling of her myself.::

From the joy lighting his father's face, Tom felt ashamed he had put off this call for so long. Why did he still continue to doubt his father? All the signs that his father cared for him and wanted him home had been present for a long time. There was no hint of ambivalence in his father's beaming smile. "Dad," Tom gulped, "I'm sorry I didn't call you before. I guess...well, I'm an idiot..."

::Son, stop right there. You're not an idiot, you're just like your old man. We've both made mistakes, and we've both had trouble admitting it. Scratch that. I have trouble admitting them. Son, a long time ago, when you were willing to step forward and admit...::

"Dad, what's past is past. That's something I don't want to dwell on any more. We can't change what happened; we just have to go on the best we can."

::I guess we're both too pig-headed for our own good...::

"Now that I can agree with. B'Elanna would, too."

::You're mother would also probably agree.::

"She does," Alicia called out, loud enough to be heard clearly over the comm. His father's quick smile confirmed it.

"Well, anyway, I just called to say I wish you were here, but I understand why you're not - thanks to Mom."

Owen's image leaned in closer to the screen. ::I want to come to you son, but I'm afraid to leave here. Even if a ship bound for Deep Space Nine were leaving today, I wouldn't feel right about getting on it. I need to be here, doing what I can for your shipmates.::

"It's that bad, then?" Tom had hoped his mother had been overstating the case. Obviously she hadn't.

::Son, the hell of it is, I can't tell. No one is saying anything. I've got a 'conflict of interest' so I'm not part of the inner circle. I suspect much but can't prove a thing. I can't be sure of anything right now except we can't trust certain people who are in positions of power. They could have far more influence than is healthy for a lot of your people unless there's a gadfly around here ready to ask the tough questions.::

"You always were good at asking the tough questions, Dad.::

His father laughed. Before either of them could say anything more, a door opened behind Tom and B'Elanna came in.

"So, you're sneaking off and calling people behind my back," B'Elanna sniffed, but with a smile that confirmed she was pleased and not unhappy to see them speaking to one another.

::Is that your lovely wife? Hello, B'Elanna. Get within range so I can see you. And Alicia? You, too! Let me see little Miral's face!::

Hastily, Tom pulled everyone close to him, so that the mini-sensors could pick up all of them at once. B'Elanna was subdued. Alicia hugged Miral close to her as the warning chime went off, but no one said a word during the few seconds that were left to them, preferring just to gaze at each other. Just as the connection was about to end, Tom saw Owen's hand float out towards them the illusion it would emerge from the screen on Voyager's side and grab Tom by the hand. Tom could imagine what it would feel like so vividly, it was almost as if their hands were touching, despite the many light years they were from one another.

As the light began to fade on the screen, Tom started to reach out to touch the spots where his father's hand and face had been. He caught himself and smiled a little. Tom folded his fingers into a fist and bumped it against his breastbone, not in anger, but more like a salute one Klingon warrior would give another. Owen smiled broadly and returned the gesture, just as the image faded away.

Tom felt B'Elanna hand on his shoulder comforting him as he said sadly, "We only had time to say a few words."

"You took a first step towards your father. He did the same towards you. That's what counts," Alicia said, depositing Miral into lap.

"That's what counts," Tom agreed, as he gave his daughter a kiss. The ache in his heart was gone.

"Sarexa, sweetling...I mean Sarexa..." Neelix stammered her name a few more times, further increasing her fear that everything could only get worse.

"It's all right, Neelix," she said, forcing herself to keep her voice in a Borg monotone. "I don't understand what happened either. It must have been something we ate."

"I'll talk to the Doctor." They both glanced back at the room they'd rented on the spur of the moment. She flushed as she remembered what they had done.

"Perhaps that would be best." She heard her voice crack and saw Neelix look over at her.

"Sarexa," Neelix said, "I respect you too much to let this. . ." His voice trailed off as he looked away.

Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke fast, knowing her courage might fail if she waited. "Neelix, we need to talk..."

"Hello, again," Nunk said cheerfully from behind them. "You disappeared so fast, we didn't get a chance to finish our interview." He motioned toward Quark's.

"Not now," Neelix said angrily.

"Neelix, there's no point in being rude." She smiled at Neelix, then nodded her head. "We would be happy to finish our interview. Where were we?"

"Discussing your adventures in the Delta Quadrant. Let me get you a drink?"

"No," Neelix said sullenly.

"Two lemonades," that was a drink they'd had frequently on Voyager with no interesting side effects.

"Lemonade?" Nunk responded.

"If they don't have that," Sarexa said, "water will do." She motioned toward a table. "Will your brother be joining us?"

"Perhaps later. You mentioned that you were the cook," Nunk said to Neelix as they sat.

"Cook, ambassador, morale officer...whatever needed doing," Sarexa answered after several seconds of silence. "Neelix is the new Talaxian ambassador to the Federation."

"I might open a restaurant," Neelix said quietly.

"Sounds interesting, let me get our drinks." A few long, silent minutes later, two glasses of lemonade, and a glass of some dark brown liquid were placed on the table. "And what is Talaxian food like?" Nunk asked as he sat down. He took the brown liquid.

"Quite good," Neelix said. Sarexa smiled at him again, but Neelix just clasped his glass with both his hands and stared at it.

"The crew found it to be an acquired taste," Sarexa said as she sipped her lemonade. "They never did learn to like leola root." She put the drink down. It wasn't as sweet as she remembered from Voyager.

"Isn't your lemonade good?"

"It's fine," she said. "May I ask you a question?" She didn't wait for Nunk to reply. "Why are you so interested in leola root?"

"Ma'am, getting information about Voyager or any of her crew has been difficult. I'll have an exclusive interview with you. Perhaps my article will be picked up by the Federation press." Nunk leaned back and patted the top of his head.

"I'm sure you'd do better with someone else," she replied. The noise from the bar increased.

"I'd sure like to meet this passionate and beautiful Maquis princess. A pleasure cruise for Starfleet screw-ups and traitors?" a raucous male voice said. Sarexa glanced quickly behind her. The speaker was a short human in a Starfleet gray uniform.

"Shut up, Philip," the woman beside him said.

"I won't shut up. See them there. Like they own the place - where were they when we were fighting the Dominion? Where were they during the Breen attack on Earth? Some heroes." The woman tugged at Philip's arm. "While they were *having* their beautiful and passionate princesses, we were fighting and dying to save the Federation." A half dozen Starfleet officers and some civilians seemed to nod in agreement.

"And Voyager's captain," a very tall alien - Sarexa didn't recognize the species - said. She didn't hear what he had to say about Janeway. She then noticed that Ayala and four others from Voyager were discussing something at another table. She waved. Hugh Murphy raised his tankard high in acknowledgement. She shook her head.

"See." She watched as Philip marched over to Ayala's table. Darren Pierce stood. "Cowards. You ran to the Delta Quadrant. Now the war is over, you decide to come home."

"We don't want any trouble," Pierce said.

"Coward!"

She jumped when Nunk tapped her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said. "What was the question?"

There was a shout. They turned in time to see Darren Pierce punch Philip. Ayala attempted to grab Darren, but two others jumped them, and threw them to the floor.

Neelix stood quickly. "They've been drinking! We must stop them." He started to hit his combadge, but a chair flew toward them. Sarexa dove under the table.

"Neelix! We have to stop this." Someone slid, head first, across the floor. "It's Hugh!" she shouted.

"Don't worry, sweetling..." she could barely hear Neelix's response as he stood and ran over to assist their comrades. She started to stand, but someone grabbed her.

"Got her," a voice said. Nunk raised his head from the floor and sat up.

"Good. We'd better be going."

"Come on female," Blont said as he pulled her up. She managed to reach out with her free hand and grab the glass of lemonade.

"I am not going anywhere, especially with someone who calls me *female*," she snarled as she threw the glass at Blont's face. It hit him squarely on his left lobe, giving her a chance to make her escape. Blont's screams were almost as loud as the brawl. She turned at the sound of security rushing into the bar. She looked around, the place was suddenly quiet. Ayala stood up, shaking his hand. Neelix was helping Pierce stand.

"Are you all right, ma'am," a Bajoran soldier said. "I'm Officer Mil."

She nodded. "Fine...The two Ferengi, Nunk and his brother! They just tried to kidnap me." She pointed toward Blont, who was holding his hands over the wound and crying. She caught him say something about oo-mox. Mil pointed his phaser at the two brothers as he ordered them to stand.

"It's a mistake," Nunk said. "We were trying to protect her. Blont was afraid she might get injured in the fight."

Sarexa shook her head. "That's not what happened."

Mil nodded at her as he spoke to someone through his comlink. "Lieutenant Ro is on her way. It seems she is particularly interested in these two." Mil nodded toward the brawlers, now standing looking rather subdued. He spoke to them. "Quark will itemize the charges you are responsible for. Take them to the brig."

"Bloody Voyager," the instigator, Philip, said as he was lead away. "Wanna bet they get preferential treatment." He stumbled at the door. A female Bajoran entered.

"Lieutenant Ro," the officer said. "Sarexa here claims that these two Ferengi, tried to abduct her."

"Blont and Nunk," Ro said with a big smile. She turned to look at the pair. "It seems Starfleet intelligence is most interested in questioning these two." She looked toward the groups of prisoners. "Escort the Voyager crew to my office. Captain Janeway is on her way over. I'll notify Starfleet that we have their two Ferengi."

Blont started to shout. "I need to see a doctor. A qualified doctor in Ferengi neurophysiology. I'll sue if I can't have oo-mox!"

"No you won't," Ro said. "Get them out of here, place them in maximum security."

"We have information," Blont shouted, "about how the Romulans..." He screamed when the guard bumped his lobes.

"What was that about?" Sarexa asked as the prisoners were marched out. She noted that Neelix wasn't one of them.

"Starfleet intelligence didn't say anything other than they were after Borg technology."

Sarexa shivered at the thought.

"Sarexa?" Neelix said. "Are you all right. If I had known, I wouldn't have left you like that..."

"Neelix," she smiled at him. "I'm fine. Really, I am."

He took her hand. "We need to talk."

"Yes, we do. But right now, the crew comes first." She reached over and tugged his whiskers, smiling as she did so. "They are our friends. I owe them my life and freedom." Her smile grew. "After everything is over, we'll talk. You'll need my help, if you plan to open that restaurant."

"Just help?"

"We'll see."

When they'd met for dinner after the memorial service at the station shrine a few days ago, Tom and B'Elanna had described Janeway's "death glare" to Ro. She had had a good laugh when B'Elanna demonstrated it for her. Tom claimed B'Elanna's was a pretty fair imitation of the original.

Not even close, Ro thought, as she watched - and listened - while Voyager's captain tore into her crew.

"Mr. Murphy! It doesn't matter *what* they say about us! We know the truth! Striking fellow Starfleet officers and civilians in a public place is not the way to convince anyone of that truth!"

Hugh Murphy flinched, looking like he would be happy to sink through the deck, until Janeway stalked past him and turned her attention to the next two unfortunates in line.

"Michael Ayala! Julia Harper! You are security officers charged with *keeping* the peace, not breaking it! Not to mention breaking *chairs*, Ms. Harper! What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"In all fairness, Captain, both Lieutenant Ayala and Crewman Harper were trying to stop..."

"MR. NEELIX! Am I speaking to you?!"

"Well, no, Captain, but..."

"SILENCE!"

Ro decided she knew how Janeway got that husky voice of hers.

"Mr. Sofin! Did it ever occur to you someone might have an ulterior motive when he tells you that you shouldn't put up with name-calling? Like, when a *Fe-ren-gi* starts whispering drivel like that in your ear?"

Ro rather liked the way Janeway snarled out "Ferengi." She'd have to remember that the next time she needed to chew out Quark.

"Now, since you've been so vocal, Mr. Neelix, perhaps you can explain to me how you could be lured into a fight from across the room, leaving Sarexa vulnerable to a kidnap attempt!"

"I...uh..." The Talaxian was driven to speechlessness, unable to meet the eyes of either his captain or Sarexa, who was shaking with frustration but wise enough to keep her mouth shut while Janeway was so angry.

Ro considered intervening at this point, especially if Sarexa should be included in Janeway's ranting. Officer Mil had obtained several statements from witnesses which made it clear that Sarexa was defending herself against the kidnap attempt - and that, in fact, none of the Voyager crew had been doing anything but defending themselves in the fight, at least, initially. That was why Ro had dealt with the others swiftly, incarcerating the civilians and sending the other Starfleet brawlers to their own brigs for confinement before allowing Janeway to pick up her crew. However, no one was more aware of the need for discipline than Ro was, at this point in her career; and as Janeway turned her attention to the final person in line before her, Ro relaxed, confident the captain knew exactly how to handle the situation.

"And you, Crewman Pierce! Whatever possessed you, of all people, to start throwing punches in a common barroom brawl, considering your medical history! What were you thinking? Obviously, you weren't thinking at all, were you?"

At close to two meters in height, Darren Pierce could not see any part of Janeway without looking down, since she had planted herself directly in front of him and was glaring up at his chin. The young man, to his credit, remained silent and at rigid attention, his eyes fixed upon the opposite wall, as his captain berated him.

As she turned away from Pierce, Janeway shook her head in dismay and breathed in and out in a deep cleansing breath. The action calmed her visibly, although not one of the crew did more than blink while waiting for what was to come next. Facing the Bajoran constable, she said, "You may tell Mr. Quark that reparations for damages done by my crew - but only my crew - will be made promptly, as soon as I receive the necessary paperwork. If you feel you can release my crew to me now, Lieutenant Ro, I will accept full responsibility for them. They will be confined to quarters until Commander Chakotay and I decide what to do with them - which *may* not be for several weeks, I can assure you."

Ro sincerely doubted they would be punished for more than the rest of the evening - or, at most, for the rest of the time Voyager remained at Deep Space Nine. Hopefully, for all their sakes, that would only be for a day or two more at most. Voyager had already been hung up here for almost two weeks. Ro knew the entire crew, by this time, was on edge because the welcome from Starfleet they had had every reason to expect didn't seem to be forthcoming. Those feelings of uncertainty had to be a factor in this blow-up in the bar. However, Ro had her "constable's face" on, and she replied gruffly, "I can release them to you, Captain, but first, I'd like a minute of your time. I have something to discuss with you...in private."

*That* should throw a little fear into them, too, although Ro was a little sorry about it. Under the circumstances, it couldn't be helped. Ro hadn't had a chance to tip off Janeway of what she needed to say to her before she'd started verbally ripping her crew to shreds.

Janeway withdrew to the corner, where Ro had been standing while Voyager's captain had lambasted her crew. Ro could feel all their eyes upon Janeway and herself as she told the captain, as quickly and succinctly as she could, the bare bones of what she had to impart.

Ro had only relayed a few sentences before Janeway winced, as if in pain. She looked down at the deck and began to nod in response to what Ro said. From the crew's vantage point she was in total agreement with the Bajoran. Finally, after Janeway shook hands with the Bajoran constable, she turned back to those caught brawling. They were all still at attention and appeared puzzled by what they'd just seen. Ro was satisfied. She hadn't wanted anyone to overhear what she'd had to say. They'd all know what it had been about soon enough.

"Lieutenant Ro has released you into my custody. I want everyone but Lieutenant Ayala to report back to Voyager immediately! No stopping for *anything*. No speaking with *anyone*!"

The abashed crew shuffled out in single file, followed by Sarexa, who spared a sympathetic glance in Ayala's direction before exiting Ro's office. Ayala himself remained rigidly standing at attention, although he had a puzzled look on his face. Ro felt sorry for him; she was sure he could have no idea why he had been singled out like this. Ro wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes herself, but she had to do what she had to do. As Ayala would have to do as well.

After the rest of the crew had left the security office, Janeway said to him, in a markedly softer voice, "Mr. Ayala, Lieutenant Ro wishes to speak with you. You are on your own recognizance. Since you yourself are a security officer, I'm sure you can be trusted to contact me afterwards *immediately* to advise me of your location?"

Ayala nodded mutely.

After the captain left, Ro gestured to the chair next to her desk. "Please, take a seat, Lieutenant."

"I'd prefer to stand."

"Please, be seated," Ro said again, taking her own advice and sitting down at her desk, folding her hands together in a gesture that echoed a previous occupant of the desk.

He remained on his feet. At his continued hesitation, Ro said, more roughly than she'd intended, "Sit down, Ayala! I don't want you keeling over on me when I tell you what happened to your family!"

He sat.