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

Act 4

Ro cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sorry to tell you this, Lieutenant, but your wife Ayala Marit is dead. Your son Raul is alive and well, however, and..."

"My son's alive? Where is he? When can I see him?" The tall man grasped the arms of the chair as if he would zoom into the air if he didn't hold on tightly.

"He's safe, on Bajor. We can take a runabout to him in a few hours. Captain Janeway gave me permission to bring you to him."

"Why can't we leave now?"

"It's past midnight where he lives, and the person who's been taking care of him still has to tell him that you're alive. If we leave in three hours, or maybe four, she'll have a chance to let him know you're coming."

"Why didn't she tell him when Voyager came back? And why didn't you tell me about this as soon as I got to the station?"

Ro sighed deeply. "It's a long story, but the short version is, I didn't know Ral - I mean, Raul - was your son until after Voyager came back."

"You didn't know he was my son?" Ayala glared at her, incredulous.

"No. I didn't know his correct name, you see. But when I saw you with your other boy Luis last week, it struck me how much both of you reminded me of Ral - Raul. Sorry. Old habits die hard. It's going to take me a while to get that right. Anyway, after I suspected he was your son, I had to be sure. I didn't want to get his hopes up - or yours - and then turn out to be wrong."

Ayala nodded gravely. "I understand. But why did it take so long?"

Ro chuckled mirthlessly. "Until today I couldn't reach Kajee, the woman he lives with. She'd gone camping in the highlands with her daughter and...*Raul* to keep them away from all the hubbub over Voyager's return. Homecomings and family reunions have always been tough for them."

"I can imagine that," Ayala said, unable to erase the bitterness from his voice. "But you're sure my wife is dead? Since you didn't even know she was my wife?"

"Yes. I'm sure. There's no doubt she's gone."

Ayala's dark eyes bored into hers, not precisely disbelieving, but wanting to be as certain as Ro was that he had lost his wife. Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, he asked, "How did she die?"

Ro had hoped this question wouldn't come up so soon. "Like I said, it's a long story."

"If we can't leave for Bajor yet, I've got the time."

"That, we do," Ro acknowledged grimly. "Okay. I'll tell you if you really want to know."

"Yes, I really want to know." The words blistered with intense, barely withheld emotion.

Ro took a deep breath, then plunged into the story in a matter-of-fact voice, the only way she knew she would be able to get through a recitation filled with memories so painful for her to recall. "Jelzin II - you know it?"

He thought a moment. "The planet with the primitive reptilian culture? A long way outside the DMZ?"

"That's the one."

"Nobody was supposed to land a ship there because of possible cultural contamination."

"The Maquis got a lot less picky about things like that after Liberty and Voyager disappeared, Ayala. Because Jelzin's overall climate is so warm, it's temperate enough near the poles for our species. The indigenous reptiles all lived in the northern hemisphere, but they didn't have the technology to cross a large river on their own continent, let alone sail across the ocean all the way to the south polar continent. It was unlikely their stone-age way of life would be corrupted even if the Maquis sought refuge in their antarctic region. And a lot of Maquis families did seek it, when things got really bad. That far outside the DMZ, as you say, everyone thought it would be safe there. "

Hoping Ayala would say he could figure out the rest without Ro having to tell him all the details, she stopped to catch her breath, but he stared at her expectantly. Ro sighed deeply, stood up, and began to pace.

"I did supply runs to Jelzin from time to time. Marit was the quartermaster at one of the camps there. I got to know her slightly, but not very well. I'm afraid I never learned her whole name. I thought Marit was probably her family name, as a matter of fact, since that's the only name I ever heard anyone call her.

"When the Jem'Hadar and Cardassians put on the final push to eliminate the Maquis, they started attacking us without worrying about where the camp was. In the Romulan zone? No problem. They'd go there. Forays into Federation space became frequent. Finally, when things really seemed to be falling apart, we decided it would be better to evacuate everyone on Jelzin to Bajor. As soon as we managed to get hold of eight transports - two for each of the camps - we went, but we got to Jelzin one day too late."

Ro stared at the floor, unable to see the deck plates or even her own feet; she was too busy visualizing images from the part of her memory she preferred to ignore as much as she could. "We were loading the transports when sensors reported five Jem'Hadar and three Cardassian ships entering the system. We tried to rush the people on board as quickly as possible instead of worrying about their possessions. People tried to hurry, but it was chaos. Babies screaming. Old folks wandering around confused. Shouts from family members calling for those who had gotten separated from them.

"I was rounding up a group of youngsters, trying to push them onto my transport. Suddenly Marit was right in front of me, shoving her little boy into my arms, and shouting she had to go back to look for her other boy 'Luee.' She'd lost him somehow. I never even had a chance to ask her the little boy's name before there was a terrific explosion. The concussion threw me down onto my back with Marit's little boy on top of me, screaming - I guess- -I couldn't hear a thing. I'd been deafened by the blast. When I got up on my feet, I saw that a chunk of the hillside had been blown onto the crowd that had been running towards my transport. One glance, and I knew a lot of them were never going to get up again. Marit was one of them." Ro looked over at her listener, about to ask Ayala if he really wanted to know again, but from the intent way he was staring at her, she knew he did. "Marit was lying next to - well, under, actually - a boulder that had been kicked down the mountainside by the blast. From the way she was...lying there...there was no doubt she was gone. I..." Ro gulped. "You don't need every detail, do you?"

Ayala shook his head and looked away, slumping further forward, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together tightly into a ball.

Ro shook her own head to dispel the horrible image of Marit's crushed body before continuing. "Well. I got the little boy and as many others as I could onto my transport. Most of them were really young kids. When I couldn't see anyone else moving towards me, I figured it was as full as it was going to be and I managed to lift off. Of the eight transports that left Bajor, only two made it back.

"When I got back to Bajor, I went to the home of Kajee Harrel. He was the pilot of one of the transports that didn't make it, and he'd been a friend. I owed it to him to bring the news to his wife in person. She took it as well as could be expected under the circumstances. They had a little girl who was barely three. Since I wanted to hunt for Marit's relatives, Kajee Narel offered to take care of Marit's little boy for me.

"I hadn't really had time to ask him his name on the trip to Bajor. At first I couldn't hear him anyway, and when my hearing started coming back, I could tell he was still in shock. He wasn't much better at Kajee's, and he was little - barely four years old, I know now. All we could get from him was 'Ral.' So I looked on every missing person's list I could get my hands on, trying to find someone looking for a little boy named Marit Ral. When I came up empty, I remembered Marit was going to look for 'Luee,' so I looked for a boy named Marit Luee. I came up empty again. Then I started looking for *anybody* who knew Marit. By that time, almost all of the adults I'd rescued had disappeared. It was difficult to find anyone who knew who I was talking about, let alone anything about her or her kids. I found old people who said they didn't know her or little kids who knew the same names I did, nothing more.

"Several months passed. The trail was cold. I took a sample of Ral's blood and filed it with the Bajoran genetics archives, with instructions to compare it with that of anyone looking for a boy about his age. I admit, I was surprised when I got the results and saw he was half-human. He doesn't look it. That sent me back to the lists, looking for a human family searching for a half-Bajoran, half-human boy. Still nothing.

"Nothing, until I saw you with Luis last week. I took Raul's genome report to Tom Paris and asked him to compare it with the crew's. I told him I'd been looking for someone for a long time, and I wanted to see if there was a possibility the child's relative was on board Voyager all along. Tom contacted me less than an hour later with the proof. I was with him when you greeted Luis, so I think he might have suspected what I did, just from the way I reacted to the two of you together. We've been friends a long time. I told him not to tell anyone, not even B'Elanna or Captain Janeway, until I could warn Kajee first. I knew she'd be devastated to lose Raul. And then I couldn't find her until today!"

As Ro finished her recitation, Ayala's eyes went out of focus. She'd seen it before, especially since she'd taken over as constable on Deep Space Nine. A grief too great for tears or anger could freeze the bereaved. He looked dazed, as if he couldn't find words to express his feelings. Then he surprised her, saying softly, as if to himself, "I tried to explain it away, but when we started getting regular communications from the Alpha Quadrant and I never heard from her...I knew she was gone. Even if Marit had been in hiding, she would have found a way to contact me."

"I'm sorry I couldn't notify you. It would have helped if I'd known Ral's family name was Ayala, honestly. I would have checked Voyager's crew manifest long ago, after we found out all of you were in the Delta Quadrant. But Raul had been traumatized. He didn't seem to know his whole name, maybe because he was so very young, but maybe Marit hadn't used the name Ayala much after you disappeared - it may have caused problems for her in some places because you were a known Maquis. I don't know if we can ever find out now. Once, Kajee and I got 'Uleeya' out of Raul, but I swear, I thought he was mixed up and talking about his brother! So I gave up looking. Kajee and I applied to the courts to be appointed Ral's co-guardians under the provisions of the 'Custodian in Absence of Parents' Statute. You know about that law?"

Ayala shook his head.

"It's a leftover from the Occupation. Any orphaned Bajoran child, or one whose family is missing, can be given a court-appointed guardian until a blood family member is located or the child reaches the age of majority. I took being named his guardian seriously, I want you to know that. Since I've been on the station, I've visited Ral - Raul - at least once a month, more often when I can. Even when I was with the irregular Bajoran militia - what was left of the Maquis, actually - I visited him as often as I could. Kajee very quickly came to love him as much as she did her own daughter Lajen, so I didn't let myself worry about what would happen to him if something happened to me. The last time I visited, she asked me if I'd allow her to adopt him. I almost said okay, but something held me back." She stopped her relentless pacing and stared down at Ayala. "I probably should have said yes, but I didn't want to stop having responsibility for him. He's the closest thing to family I have, Ayala. I want you to understand. I care about him." Her voice broke. "I don't think I'd have ever let you know he existed if I hadn't seen the way you are with Luis."

Ro Laren seldom cried. She'd seen too much, lived too long with excruciating pain to feel the need to give in to her emotions very often. She was blinking back tears now. They were nothing compared to those streaming out of Michael Ayala's eyes, however. Wordlessly, he stood, grasping her hands and squeezing them tightly in his. Even if Ro hadn't already done her homework, she would have sensed the basic goodness of the man as they stood there, both awash in grief; Ayala for the lost years of his son's life he could never share, Ro for the imminent loss of Raul as her ward now that his father had returned from the dead. Yet, through her pain, Ro was also reassured they would share a lifelong connection, forged through their mutual love of Raul. Somehow, she was sure Ayala realized it, too: they were linked as members of the same family, not one of blood but of spirit.

Ayala was the first to be able to speak. "Thank you for keeping my son safe."

She nodded her head, finally managing to answer with something totally inadequate to the circumstances, but the only thing she could think of to say. "You're welcome."

"I've got to tell Luis about his brother."

"Raul still talks about his brother all the time. Luis should come with us to Bajor."

"I should tell Anne Carey and her sons, too."

"Yeah, I think so." Now that she was starting to recover from the trauma caused by her revelations to Ayala, Ro began to think her extended family of the spirit had just gotten even bigger, thanks to Anne Carey's care of Luis Ayala. Life could be very strange.

Ayala took a step towards the door. Stopping, he turned back to Ro and smiled at her. "I can never thank you enough, Ro Laren."

"I just did what anyone would do," she demurred, following him to the door.

"Maybe so. Maybe not. But thanks, anyway." He reached out for her hand and shook it again before striding into the corridor.

She watched him as he walked away from her, his shoulders squared, his head held high. After he passed by Quark's and the Klingon restaurant, disappearing from sight, Ro sat at her desk. Plunking her elbows on the top, she clasped her hands in front of her chin and covered her face with her hands. Although no tears came, she felt a little weak from the intensity of her emotional reaction to Ayala.

Gradually, the ache in her heart from revisiting memories she wished she could forget began to ebb as she replaced them with remembering the way the tall, quiet man had listened to her horrific story and of his reaction to the news of his second son's survival. He had expressed gratitude for what, to Ro, was the only way she could have acted in this situation. The more she thought of him, she found her respect for the man growing. He was, truly, a very good man.

"Captain Janeway, a word," Commander Craig called out.

"Commander Craig, as you are probably well aware, I'm a rather busy."

"I heard. I've also been asked about two Ferengi and their involvement with the Romulans."

She stopped walking. "I understand the two Ferengi made a very public attempt to kidnap one of *my* crew. And started talking to everyone after their arrest. My crew has lived within the ridiculous constraints placed upon us by Starfleet."

"Even before then, I'd heard people talking."

"Commander Craig, for nearly eight years we struggled to make it home. On our own, I might add. We did it on our own - and my crew has *every* right to want to tell their stories. Damn it Commander, we deserve it. I'm not sorry we can't be pigeonholed into some tidy Starfleet cubbyhole." She took a deep breath. "The crew responsible for the fight have been confined to quarters." There was no point in antagonizing the man. Craig stared at her, then shook his head.

"Captain Janeway, I know you've not wanted me here. I also know that we've both being stonewalled by Starfleet high command, but the reasons I am here are legitimate ones. You've seen how the press can interpret events."

"The Risian articles?" She'd only heard about them, she hadn't read them - nor did she want to read them. Unfortunately, she probably would have to.

"There are enough who believe such trash. And some who would like to believe it. And there are some in Starfleet who believe that you don't deserve anything."

"Because we weren't here for the Dominion war? Because we weren't here when the Breen attacked Earth. Damn it, I know we weren't here. But they didn't face the Kazon, the Hirogen, species 8472..." She clenched her fist. It was so frustrating. They had returned home - but home was no longer what it used to be. They'd missed so much - more than the wars.

Craig gave her a crooked smile. "Ma'am, your story will be a bestseller."

"I'm not writing a book."

"You should. It would help the press conferences anyway."

"I'm sure someone will write this book, but right now my responsibility is to my crew - and making sure they are given the respect they deserve." She glanced around the station. "Commander Craig, we will continue to avoid talking to the press - no matter our opinion."

"Thank you, Captain. It's only for a few more hours. Once Captain Picard arrives, we'll be leaving for Earth."

And maybe we'll finally get some answers, she wished. But despite the lack of answers, she knew they were all anxious to return to Earth and to be with their families. "I need to meet with my engineering staff," she said as an excuse to end the conversation. She turned to go, but before she took more than a step, her combadge chirped. "Captain Janeway here," she said without stopping.

"Lieutenant Ayala. Captain, request permission to go down to Bajor to see my son?"

"Granted. Lieutenant you need to be on board Voyager in ten hours."

"Thank you, Captain. Ayala out." She smiled. At least this lengthy stopover had some positive benefits, for some of her crew anyway.

"Captain Janeway," Craig said from behind her. "You just allowed one of your crewmen to go down to Bajor?"

"Yes, I did." She grimaced. Craig would now remind her that they were supposed to avoid any additional diversions - and all crew were to remain on Deep Space Nine. He did.

"Commander, consider it *compassionate leave.*"

"Captain Janeway, Admiral Nechayev specifically gave the order..."

"And I take full responsibility - but I am not going to deny Lieutenant Ayala the chance to see his son. A son he'd thought dead."

Craig nodded slightly. "Perhaps it would be better if the boy came to Deep Space Nine?"

"The best interests of the boy are not served by doing that - just Starfleet's." She smiled, indicating the conversation was closed. Right now she was getting tired of Starfleet - and the bureaucratic nightmare they'd returned home to.

"Another Sangria, Mister Torres?"

John Torres looked at the Ferengi bartender's ingratiating smile, and shook his head. He downed the last of the drink he'd ordered and set the glass on the bar.

"We have a wide selection of drinks from every planet in the quadrant, and if we don't have it I can make it," the persistent Ferengi said. "Or you might want to try your hand at one of our Dabo tables..."

"No, thanks." John had gotten the information he wanted. He nodded to the other patrons at the bar, picked up his duffel and made his departure before the bartender could offer him anything else.

He stepped out into the Promenade, where it was nearly as crowded as the bar. Mixed among the local Bajorans and traders of various races were uniformed Starfleet officers, some of them from the Enterprise, he'd been informed. Several of those dressed in civilian clothing had that calculating, hungry look that identified them as reporters. They'd found their way here right after Voyager's arrival.

John, on the other hand, had arrived less than an hour ago, on an Andorian freighter. It was the only transportation he'd been able to find on such short notice that could get him to Deep Space Nine quickly, though he was probably too late.

He stopped as he spotted a blonde woman wearing an outdated Starfleet uniform. She was leaving the Promenade, moving toward the docking rings. According to the talkative Bajoran at the bar, most of the Voyager crew were still wearing those uniforms, perhaps out of a sense of solidarity, or simply because they hadn't had time to replicate the newer ones. Another Voyager officer, this one a redheaded man with a sturdy build, was strolling along the row of portable merchant kiosks nearby. A woman walked at his side, her hand on his arm and her face wreathed in a wide smile. Following behind them two gangly boys, one redheaded and one dark-haired like the woman, surveyed their surroundings with lively curiosity.

John had followed Voyager's story closely ever since the ship's EMH had reestablished contact with Starfleet over four years ago. He would have recognized Joe Carey, B'Elanna's second in Engineering, even without the fact that he'd spoken with Anne Carey when she'd added his name to the Voyager Family Association mail list. Most of the friends and family of Voyager's crew had remained on Earth awaiting the ship's arrival there, but a few had made it here. He'd heard a Mrs. Kim mentioned in Quark's Bar, and Joe Carey's family had obviously decided not to wait, aided perhaps by Anne's involvement in the VFA.

John watched the family stop at a kiosk, where Anne picked up a crystal and examined its surface. The younger of the boys edged in for a closer look. Joe tousled his hair and shared a knowing grin with the older boy. They all seemed completely at ease with each other, as if eight years had been little more than a few days' separation.

He envied them, and he wondered again why he'd given into impulse and rushed here, when no such happy reunion awaited him. He'd left an unfinished project outside Beijing, along with an unhappy business partner, and now his rash decision to come here was for naught. Voyager would be leaving in just a few hours, headed to Earth with the Enterprise as an escort.

Someone bumped him and muttered a quick apology. John pulled his duffel a bit closer. Better safe than sorry in these crowded environs. He hadn't checked into a place to stay yet, which was just as well. He'd probably be taking the next ship back to Earth again. Even if B'Elanna had been willing to see him when he'd arrived here unannounced, she was probably already on Voyager, preparing for departure. He doubted calling the ship and demanding to speak to his daughter would go over well with her. It would probably be better to do what he should have done in the first place - wait until Voyager arrived at Earth to arrange a meeting, with B'Elanna's consent.

John was about to turn away when another Voyager officer approached Joe Carey. The man was tall and blond, and carrying a small child who appeared to be asleep on his shoulder. He recognized them even before the man turned and gave him a better view of their faces, and his heart skipped a beat.

Tom Paris, his son-in-law. And Miral Paris, his granddaughter. He'd seen them both during the real time connection of the FTL call, when he'd asked B'Elanna for another chance, and she'd agreed to write him. He'd exchanged nothing more than a polite greeting with Tom after then. His granddaughter, who wasn't old enough to understand his betrayal, had given him a cursory look with her dark eyes before occupying herself with her father's uniform pips.

Tom said something to the Carey boys, who smiled at him, then turned to speak to Joe. Though they were too far away for John to hear what Tom was saying, it was doubtful his son-in-law finished before another voice called his name.

Frozen in place, John watched his daughter stride toward her husband. He couldn't help staring, drinking in the sight of her. He'd looked at photos of her over the years, along with recent newsvids, even talked to her over a video connection, but this was different. She was *here*, just meters away. She moved with the same graceful economy of her mother, her body radiating with barely leashed energy, even when she paused to speak to Anne Carey.