He stood on the small hill overlooking the farmstead, watching one of Bajor's moons rising even as, directly behind him, another was sinking below the horizon. Fresh, herbacious odors from the many plants spreading on the slope below him filled his nostrils. He could not argue with Captain Benjamin Sisko's taste. The farm was a lovely, peaceful place, perfect for a retired Starfleet officer to call his forever home.

Idly, Tuvok wondered if any plants growing on this hill might be suitable for his collection. Perhaps Kassidy or Jake would know.

Although the house below was somewhat distant, his sensitive Vulcan ears enabled him to just barely hear the voices of his wife, his daughter, Sisko's wife, and Sisko's first born, Jake. While he could not discern any individual words, he knew they were continuing a conversation from earlier that afternoon, which had begun shortly after their arrival at the farm. They were sharing memories of Captain Benjamin Sisko. Kassidy was providing T'Pel and Asil with her own perspective on the last days of her husband's chronological existence, before he became one of the timeless Wormhole aliens who dwelled in the Celestial Temple.

If the suppression of emotion by Vulcans was confusing for those not of that race, how to explain the way of life of the aliens of the Wormhole? Tuvok had spent many hours of study, in between mind meld therapy sessions with Asil, trying to understand exactly what these aliens were and how they actually lived their lives-if they were in fact biologically alive at all, that is. Some of his studies indicated a controversy over whether they fit that distinction.

Since his wife had befriended the commander of Deep Space Nine when Tuvok's own fate had been unknown, he had tried to "catch up" on what had occurred on the station and in the Alpha Quadrant during his prolonged absence on Voyager. Much of what he discovered was so painful, he was forced to exercise the many techniques he had learned long ago in adolescence to control his emotional reactions. Although the monks of Amonak had declared his mind healed of the fal-tor-voh over a month ago, he could not deny his experience of that condition had forced him to reconsider how he now handled distractions and emotional reactions. Such adjustments might be necessary on a permanent basis. No one seemed able to tell him if this was true.

T'Pel sometimes teased him that he had "grown younger" from his therapy. "Perhaps your daughter's youth was catching," she had declared, with her eyes twinkling, belying the very solemn expression she bore on the rest of her face.

He sometimes regretted the friendship that had arisen between his wife and Mr. Paris, although he fully understood its genesis. It had obviously had an effect on T'Pel. Just such a bon mot could be expected to issue from the mouth of the pilot/medic, who had recently been promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

Another side effect of his experience with the fal-tor-voh had been the need to spend time on his own on a regular basis. Every day he required a period of silent reflection, no matter where he was, to maintain his composure. To this end, Tuvok had excused himself from the gathering at the farm to take a twilight walk.

Tuvok himself had no memories of Benjamin Sisko. He had never met the man during his two day sojourn on Deep Space Nine, while he waited to board the ill-fated Val Jean for his undercover assignment. What knowledge he had of the station commander had been gained from mind melds with this wife and with Asil, during their therapy sessions. They had nothing but favorable impressions of the man. Sisko had treated Tuvok's spouse and daughter with great respect and kindness during their interactions with him. Tuvok could not help but sense regret that he himself had never had the opportunity to get to know Sisko, but as an undercover plant in the Maquis, that would have been inadvisable. Any meeting with the station commander would have likely blown his cover story. Infiltrating the Maquis cell would have been unlikely-for all the good that mission had accomplished. He had learned little of import before the Caretaker terminated his mission on the Val Jean. The only good thing that had come of it was that he was there to support Captain Janeway when the Maquis survivors transported onto Voyager.

He wanted to linger on that hill, to take in the quiet landscape and enjoy the tranquil evening. The air was delightfully cool; the scent in the air was almost intoxicating; but he could not, in good conscience, stay away from the rest of the group any longer. Slowly, Tuvok descended, with the mingled scent of life flowing all around him, more pungent with every step.

He entered the house as quietly as he could. Jake and Asil both looked up at the door as he entered, but T'Pel and Kassidy were discussing a delicious dinner Sisko and Jake had cooked for them during T'Pel's second visit to the station. That was after Tuvok's means of survival had become public knowledge, and it was something of a celebration. As Tuvok settled into an empty chair, he leaned back, with his legs outstretched before him. Resting his elbows on the chair's armrests, he joined his hands together by touching each of the fingers of one hand with its mate on the other. It was a relaxing way to sit, often favored by Mr. Paris when he was spending a quiet night on sickbay duty. Perhaps some sort of pressure points in the spine were soothed by the position. Tuvok resolved to look into the matter.

He knew his mind was wandering, but he did not think that mattered. After all, Tuvok had nothing to contribute to what the others were saying to each other at that particular point in time.

He almost did not notice the lull in the conversation when it came, but when he did, he realized a pair of deep brown eyes seemed to be studying him. When his own gaze met Kassidy's, she remarked softly, "You know, there is something about your husband that reminds me so much of Ben. I don't know if Tuvok really is as serene and thoughtful as he appears. I know Ben wasn't always, even though he often looked like it! But it's a comfort to me that people like your Tuvok are still around, T'Pel. That against all odds, he came back to you. It renews my faith that Ben will visit us again someday. Maybe live with us for a while again."

Kassidy looked towards her stepson Jake. He smiled pensively and said, "I see it, too. Sometimes."

Tuvok was nonplussed for a moment. There was but one answer he could give, under the circumstances. "I am honored."

The conversation resumed, and Tuvok resolved to pay greater attention to what was said, even though his own comments might be minimal. He already knew Ben Sisko was revered by the Bajorans as the Emissary. He was a hero of the Federation because he sacrificed his life in order to finally end a war. The Cardassians were now so busy trying to rebuild their society, which was almost obliterated by the Dominion before the war's ending, they no longer were stirring up trouble in this sector. The Founders of the Dominion had accepted Odo's assistance in curing them from a disease and were learning to accept the "solids" as beings who could be other than enemies. Tuvok could only wish this would continue.

The family Ben Sisko was forced to leave behind continued to be honored by the Bajorans, of course. Undoubtedly they always would be. This farm to which Sisko had meant to retire was a pleasant place. Someday, it would become a shrine to the Emissary. Of this, Tuvok had no doubt.

Still, Tuvok could sense an emptiness, a hole, which only a returned Benjamin Sisko could fill. Perhaps, Tuvok thought, the Emissary would return home to his wife, his children, and his farm one day, taking back the mantle of family patriarch he had to leave so prematurely.

Just as Tuvok had.

=/\=

The End (if there really ever is such a thing)

=/\=

Author's Note:

"Pilgrimage" was my entry in the first Strange New Worlds fanfiction anthology contest. It didn't win, which actually turned out okay. While it would have been gratifying to become a paid, published author, as a couple of my Internet acquaintances did as a result of that contest, I was satisfied with the story. Eventually, I published it on my own website. A couple of details were changed later on (when I found out the actual number and gender of Tuvok's children and grandchildren, for example), but otherwise, I thought the story held up well during Star Trek: Voyager's seven season run. As far as I was concerned, the story was finished.

After AOL ended web hosting and I lost my website, I published "Pilgrimage" on a few other fanfiction venues so people who were still interested in Star Trek fan fiction could read it. A few weeks ago, one reader suggested I continue the story.

Now, lots of readers have literally begged me to continue one of my fanfiction stories. Usually, I do not comply because I don't have anything to add to the piece.

Plot bunnies can come from the most innocuous comments, however, and in this case, one took root. I realized I'd told "Pilgrimage" without presenting anything from T'Pel's point of view. The entire story was told through the eyes of Sisko, Jake, and Odo as they observed her visit to Deep Space Nine. Somehow that didn't seem right, especially since T'Pel was always a shadow figure on the television series, too. I wanted to let her speak for herself for once. And since we know how Voyager finally got home, thanks to "Endgame," as well as the eventual fate of Captain Sisko in Star Trek: Deep Space Nine's "What You Leave Behind," I realized there might be more to T'Pel's story after all.

So here it is. Thank you, 's framework4. Your comment on "Pilgrimage" sparked this sequel. Jeri Taylor's book Pathways was the source, not only of the names of Tuvok and T'Pel's children, but also Asil's ability as a very young child to "read" her father's mind. And I would be remiss if I did not thank all the wonderful writers of ST:DS9 and ST:Voyager, as well as the actors who so beautifully portrayed the characters, for continuing Gene Roddenberry's vision into another possible future.

Oh, and I also have to state, for the record, that I don't own any of these characters or even a little piece of Star Trek, except for the echoes running around in my head. And I'm never going to be paid for any of that, you may be assured! So Paramount and company, I'm not worth coming after for copyright infringement! This is a tribute, not a money making venture! ;-)

4/26/2017