This is a reposting - with extensive revisions - of a story that was up in January. I thank everyone who read that version, but it didn't go through my usual editing and revising process. As a result, I was unsatisfied. If you're rereading, some of the material is the same, though there are new scenes, edits to dialogue, and some points where you'll notice major overhaul.

As always, thanks for reading.

By Kezhke

Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Viacom/Paramount/CBS, and I am just borrowing them for fun, not profit.

Synopsis: Set during two time periods, 2403 and 2378 (starting immediately post-"Endgame"). This story exists in the same universe as my previous story "Idle Gossip" and the "Ad Infinitum" trilogy, but you don't have to read those to read this. PG-13.

On the 25th anniversary of Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, a few secrets about the crew are finally revealed.

Pairings: P/T, J/C, C/7,* EMH/7, EMH/f, K/f, Miral Paris/m, and a lot of lower deck couplings. (*Very much not my idea; I'm trying to do the best I can with icky material.)

Notes: Pathways and Mosaic, as well as the Voyager relaunch series, are not canon, though you might find elements of them here.

Spoilers (really more like references): Caretaker, Parallax, The Cloud, Emanations, Faces, Learning Curve, Non Sequitur, Persistence of Vision, Tattoo, Resistance, Threshold, Dreadnought, Lifesigns, Investigations, Deadlock, Resolutions, Basics, Future's End, Warlord, Macrocosm, Fair Trade, Alter Ego, Coda, Blood Fever, Darkling, Real Life, Worst Case Scenario, Scorpion, Day of Honor, Revulsion, Scientific Method, Random Thoughts, Hunters, The Killing Game, Vis à Vis, Demon, Night, Extreme Risk, In the Flesh, Once Upon a Time, Nothing Human, Thirty Days, Latent Image, The Disease, Think Tank, Someone to Watch Over Me, Warhead, Equinox, Barge of the Dead, Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy, Alice, Riddles, Pathfinder, Fair Haven, Memorial, Collective, Spirit Folk, Ashes to Ashes, The Good Shepherd, Muse, Life Line, Unimatrix Zero, Imperfection, Drive, Repression, Inside Man, Body and Soul, Nightingale, Flesh and Blood, Lineage, Prophecy, Workforce, Q2, Author, Author, Friendship One, Natural Law, Homestead, Endgame; The Measure of a Man (TNG), I, Borg (TNG), Descent (TNG), Lower Decks (TNG); Blaze of Glory (DS9), What You Leave Behind (DS9)

Chapter 1

Earth, San Francisco, The Presidio, 2403

It was a clear night in San Francisco, and the tritanium hull of the starship Voyager reflected the distant starlight. In honor of the grand opening of the Museum of the Delta Quadrant, a red carpet stretched from Voyager's open shuttle bay, down a staircase, and across the grounds of the Presidio, where Lieutenants junior grade Miral Paris and Andrew Kim were making their way toward the ship.

Inside, in lieu of shuttlecraft, the bay was full of officers in dress uniforms, civilians in formal attire, waiters circling with trays of champagne, and a flurry of reporters waiting to ambush partygoers. As Miral and Andrew entered, several snapped pictures of them, leaving them feeling slightly dazed at the onslaught of attention.

"Munchkin!"

Tom Paris made his way across the crowded shuttle bay with champagne in hand. Miral burst into a smile when she saw him and hastily handed the small package she was carrying to Andrew. She gave her father a tight hug. "Congratulations, Dad."

"Happy birthday, munchkin," he said, returning the embrace. He turned to Andrew and greeted him with another bear hug.

"Where's Mom?" Miral asked.

"In the briefing room. Some reporter wanted to interview the liaison to the Klingon Empire on the Qo'noS dissident movement," Tom explained. "I'm supposed to come up with an excuse to interrupt them in precisely five more minutes."

Miral laughed. "It's good to see you, Dad." She rubbed the top of his head affectionately. "Starting to look a little like the Doctor up there."

"Hey," Tom warned, swatting her hand away. "Your mother thinks I look distinguished."

"Very distinguished," Andrew agreed. "Congratulations on the release of the Voyager holoprogram. I can't wait to see what you, the Doctor, and Reg have created."

"You're going to love it," Tom said enthusiastically. "More than two hundred chapters to choose from, multiple character perspective, culled from ship's logs and personal logs of forty crew members. Drew, you can even play your dad in an encounter with the Borg."

Andrew turned to Miral. "How about it? Let's go check it out."

"Don't you want to say hello to everyone first?"

"You'll have to wait in line to try the program," Tom warned. "The holodecks are running nonstop, but there's still a line down the corridor. You can take a tour of the ship while you wait. You should see the old mess hall. It's an exhibit of plants indigenous to the Delta Quadrant. The replicators have even been programmed to make leola root stew."

"Sounds delightful," Andrew said with a wry smile.

"Come on, Dad," Miral said cheerily, "you can be our tour guide."

Tom swallowed the last of his champagne. "Sorry, munchkin, I have to get your mother away from the reporters before she kills one of them – or me. Besides," he added with a grin, "I might give an interview of my own. Will you two be all right?"

Miral nodded. "We'll look around for Harry and Libby."

Tom nodded back, kissing his daughter on the temple and clapping his son-in-law on the shoulder. Then he moved off into the crowd.

"So this is Voyager, huh?" Andrew said, surveying the shuttle bay. "Twenty-five years later, and they're still talking about this ship."

"There you are!" The Doctor pushed slightly through the crowd toward them and foisted a small box into Miral's hands. "Happy birthday."

"Hi, Doc. You didn't need to get me a present." She took the top off the box and pulled out a pair of bejeweled earrings with a slight gasp. "Doctor, these are beautiful. Thank you."

The Doctor beamed slightly. "Elina assured me you would like them."

"Elina?" Andrew prompted.

"Elina Abramowicz." He gave a falsely modest smile. "We're seeing each other."

"You're dating Elina Abramowicz, the fashion designer?" Miral repeated with disbelief. "She brought back the asymmetrical hemline! You have to introduce me to her! Is she here?"

"She has a show in Milan, but she'll be here later. So, how long will you be on Earth?"

"My tour of duty with the Galileo is finished," Miral reported. Her eyes flickered to Andrew for a moment. "I'm on leave until my next assignment."

"Which is?" the Doctor prompted.

"Which is something we're still fighting about," Andrew admitted. He handed the Doctor the package he was holding. "Here. This is for you."

"I got that for you on Berengaria VII," Miral told the Doctor as he opened the box. He pulled out an isolinear chip and looked at her with slight confusion. "Not the chip, the research. Genomes for a hundred newly discovered species. I thought you'd like it."

The Doctor smiled. "I'll look forward to running a comparative study," he pledged, pocketing the chip.

Andrew scanned the shuttle bay as best as he could. "Doc, have you seen my parents?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It's impossible to find anyone in this crowd."

"Why don't we get in line for the holodeck?" Miral suggested. "By the time we're done, maybe the crowd will have thinned out, and it'll be easier to find everyone we want to talk to."

Andrew nodded. "Coming with us, Doc?"

"As one of the co-creators of the program, I'm not particularly interested in running it again," he said honestly. "But I will stand in line with you. Maybe I can tell you a few things that weren't included."

Miral and Andrew's interest was piqued. "Like what?"

"Like what really happened when Voyager returned from the Delta Quadrant." He looked at Miral. "You know, it all started with your birth."

"Which my father missed," she added with a slight eye roll. "Which we've heard about a hundred times. You know, I think that's the reason my mother didn't tell him she was in labor with L'Naan until they were alone – just so he'd end up having to deliver the baby."

"That sounds like your mother," Andrew observed.

"Well, say what you will about your dramatic entrance into the world," the Doctor continued, "but I believe I said that was just the start of the story, not the story itself."

Andrew and Miral exchanged a look. "All right, Doctor," Andrew said resignedly, putting his hands on his hips, "we'll bite. Tell us the story."

USS Voyager, 2378

"Lay in a course…for home."

Captain Kathryn Janeway had given that order more times than she could remember since the start of their misbegotten odyssey through the Delta Quadrant, but this was the first time that she could see that home on the viewscreen. She was glad Chakotay was in charge of flying the ship; she wasn't sure she could have managed it.

She paced the bridge as Earth grew larger on the viewscreen, taking a good look at the officers still on duty. At ops Harry Kim was blinking back tears. Janeway wasn't sure if it was out of relief or sadness – or perhaps he was just overwhelmed with the suddenness of it all. She directed a small smile toward him and hastily wiped a tear from the corner of her own eye.

Tom Paris was sprinting down the corridor toward Sick Bay. He hadn't heard a word the Doctor had said when he called the bridge a minute earlier. He only heard the sound of a baby in the background.

The doors to Sick Bay parted, and he rushed inside, making it only a few steps before stopping cold in his tracks.

B'Elanna Torres was sitting up in bed with no trace of fatigue after having given birth. And in her arms was something small and squirming, wrapped in a standard-issue Starfleet blanket. B'Elanna was staring down at the bundle, unaware that he'd entered, with an expression of naked wonder on her face.

"Congratulations, Mr. Paris," the Doctor said softly. He put a hand on Tom's shoulder and guided him closer to the biobed. B'Elanna looked up at them and smiled, sniffing a little. The Doctor carefully pulled back the blanket so that Tom could see the baby's face.

In that second Tom Paris's entire world changed.

He saw two closed eyes, a tiny mouth, and faint ridges on the child's forehead that he started to count, to commit to memory. A little fuzz of brown hair topped the child's head. Suddenly a hand emerged from the blanket, and Tom saw tiny fingers, clenched into a miniscule fist, topped with infinitesimally small fingernails. As the baby made a slight gurgling sound, Tom felt a stirring in his heart. He smiled and realized that for the second time in his life, he had just fallen in love.

Meanwhile, the baby's grandfather, still ignorant of her birth, was busy talking to Captain Janeway. Admiral Owen Paris had been surprised by Voyager's dramatic reemergence into Sector 001 after seven years lost in the Delta Quadrant, but he was quick to coordinate efforts with McKinley Station to ensure the ship was properly settled into spacedock before disembarkation and systems shutdowns began.

"We'll give everyone two weeks to readjust to the Alpha Quadrant," Admiral Paris explained from Janeway's computer. "You'll be in quarantine on Mariana Two in the Pacific Ocean. There's an old science outpost there that's no longer in use, so you'll have reasonable living quarters and plenty of recreational activities. We'll also have a medical team give everyone a complete physical and psychiatric evaluation."

Janeway interrupted then, as one of the reasons why they'd gotten home at this particular moment was still weighing on her mind. "Admiral, my tactical officer is need of serious medical care. Can you ensure that there's a Vulcan neurology expert on the island?"

Admiral Paris nodded. "Of course. I'll make a note of it. Send me a list of any other special needs your crew has. It's probably a good idea to send us instructions on installing the Borg regeneration alcoves, too. I doubt anyone in the Fleet has had as much experience with them as you have." He took a breath before continuing. "For security reasons you won't have access to anything other than communications devices and food replicators. In the meantime, we'll be doing a complete inventory of your cargo and technology and analyzing your logs. Once your sojourn is concluded, hopefully we'll have all the information we need from the ship, and we'll begin the debriefing process."

"Two weeks on a tropical island?" she heard herself saying aloud. "Sounds like quite a nice quarantine."

But Admiral Paris was serious. "It's going to be quite an adjustment, Captain, and we know that. For now please have your crew transfer all of their personal effects to your cargo bay, except what they'll need on Mariana Two. You can begin transport tomorrow morning at 0800. Remain in spacedock until then. And, Captain, obviously, for security reasons, you'll have to go dark tonight."

"Admiral, surely you can't ask the crew not to get in touch with their families…"

"I know they're eager to speak with their loved ones," he said honestly. He didn't say anything in particular about Tom, but Janeway understood from his expression that he, too, was eager to talk to his son. "We'll contact everyone's families for them, and once you're on Mariana Two, you'll be able to communicate freely with anyone you like."

Janeway sighed. The captain in her understood the reasoning behind the orders, but part of her acknowledged that they were disappointing orders nonetheless. After all, she herself had been looking forward to speaking to her mother and sister as soon as possible. "Admiral Paris, I do have one other special crew member to discuss with you. Our emergency medical hologram –"

"Ah, yes, the Doctor." Admiral Paris frowned. "I know he's become quite a valued member of your crew, Captain, but his program has accumulated a wealth of information during your voyage. We'll have to download him."

"He's a valued member of this crew who has developed relationships with the others on board. Isn't it possible for him to remain with us on Mariana Two? We'll all miss his company."

Admiral Paris shook his head. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. We can't take the chance that someone will alter his programming while you're in quarantine. He'll have to remain on board until we can download his altered programming for study."

Janeway would lose the battle but the not the war. "May I at least leave instructions on how to handle his new subroutines so that your crew doesn't damage him? I will be filing a petition for a hearing on his status as a citizen, and I don't want to risk harming him. Maybe Reg Barclay could oversee him?"

"All right, Captain," Paris conceded with a smile. "Have your engineers send my assistant Nicole instructions. We'll take good care of him. In the meantime, enjoy your last few hours on your ship." He leaned forward a little conspiratorially and winked at her. "They just may be your last few hours as captain."

Janeway clicked the monitor off, and it went dark. Although the promise of shore leave on Mariana Two would lift spirits, she suspected the communications blackout for the evening and the uncertainty of the weeks to come would weigh heavily on the minds of her officers that night. She knew she needed to think of a solution.

Ensign Samantha Wildman stepped inside her quarters with a slight spring in her step. She'd been called away from her daughter Naomi a number of times to man her duty station while Voyager attempted a return home, but this time they'd actually made it. "Naomi?" she called. "Icheb?"

The subjects in question were sitting at the dining table in silence. "We did it. We made it home," she informed them. "Icheb, thanks for staying with her."

"Are we in spacedock?" Naomi asked with evident disappointment. Samantha nodded. "What's going to happen now?"

"I don't know," her mother answered honestly. "Captain Janeway is still talking with Starfleet Command." She looked at Icheb. "Seven wants you back in the cargo bay."

He nodded dutifully. "She will need my assistance assembling our research." He rose and started for the door.

"Icheb!" Naomi cried out reflexively. As he turned back around, she closed her mouth and looked faintly embarrassed.

"He's not going anywhere," her mother tried to assure her. "You'll see him later."

"I'll call you on the com once I finish my work," Icheb promised. He turned to the door, and Samantha couldn't help noticing that Naomi's face fell a little as he exited.

"What's going to happen?" Naomi repeated.

"I'll probably be debriefed by Starfleet, and then I'll receive a new assignment."

"And my father?"

"You'll get to meet him, and we'll all decide where we want to live." Part of Samantha could understand Naomi's apprehension; she had been born on Voyager, after all, and was being asked to forfeit her home so the other crew members could return to theirs. She was also about to face the mythical father she'd never met. They had pictures of Greskrendtgrek in their quarters, and they'd spoken with him on the live com link and exchanged letters in the monthly datastream. But living with someone was different; Samantha was equally nervous about that aspect of their homecoming.

"What's it going to be like living with him?" Naomi asked.

Samantha placed her hand over her daugther's and squeezed it for support. "There are some things I need to take care of in the science lab," she said, avoiding the question. "Why don't you start packing your room?"

Janeway returned to the bridge, where her officers were sitting idly at their stations, hands in laps, awaiting instructions. She quickly gave Tuvok orders to take the necessary systems offline. Then she looked at Chakotay, who had returned to the first officer's chair. It was a moment they had mentally prepared for seven years, and now she felt as if she were floundering. "I guess I should make an announcement," she said feebly. He nodded in support and stabbed a button on the console between their seats.

"Attention all hands," she began, hands on hips, looking around the still-life bridge. "We have been ordered to maintain a communications blackout. I know that you are eager to contact your loved ones, but you will have to wait. Starfleet has promised to notify your families of your return." She did not add here the part about Starfleet first notifying the families of those who had not lived to return with them. "Please prepare all your personal effects. Commander Chakotay will soon contact you with the details for returning them to the surface. All hands will report to the cargo bays at 0800 for transport." The announcement was perfunctory, not at all the heartfelt welcome-home message she had hoped would inspire them. She took a breath and tried again. "I know that some of you are eager to return to your friends and families and lives in the Alpha Quadrant, and some of you are frightened by what that possibility may bring. We will stand together for the next two weeks in quarantine, after which we will stand together through our debriefings. You have been a fine crew, and I'm happy to have served with you. Our return to the Alpha Quadrant is the result of your hard work and dedication. I will do my best to ensure that whatever your desired future is, you get it." She nodded at Chakotay, who ended her shipwide announcement.

"Let's assemble the senior officers," she suggested.

In main engineering the warp core had been powered down, leaving the room without its familiar blue glow or incessant hum. Lieutenant Susan Nicoletti stood with her arms crossed over her chest at the warp diagnostic panel, its interface deactivated. She sighed and looked around the room, where a few engineers were powering down various secondary systems. The rest were standing still like her, unsure how to best be of service without their chief there to give them orders.

"Lieutenant Carey would have appreciated this moment," Ensign Vorik said as he came up beside Nicoletti.

Nicoletti turned to the young Vulcan, surprised by his sentimentality. Joe Carey, who had a wife and two children, had longed for their return to Earth more than any of them. Sadly, he had died only a few months earlier.

"Vorik, we'll make a human of you yet," said Crewman Ken Dalby as he approached. He turned to Nicoletti. "No one really knows what we're supposed to be doing."

"Lieutenant Torres would not approve of us being unproductive," Vorik reminded them both.

"I know," Nicoletti said, "but I think it's okay for us to take a minute to absorb what's happened."

"The former Maquis are doing a little more than that," Dalby warned. "Some of us are convinced we're going to be arrested tonight."

"No one's going to be arrested," Nicoletti said firmly. "Captain Janeway has already talked to Starfleet Command about your situation several times."

"And do you know just what was said in those conversations?" Dalby challenged.

"Well, no, but…but you know the captain. She won't let anything happen to you. Neither will B'Elanna and Chakotay." Nicoletti sighed. "Vorik's right. If B'Elanna were still on duty, she'd be barking orders at us right now. I think the best thing we can all do is stop worrying about what's going to happen and just focus on getting the ship spic and span."

As the senior officers filed into the briefing room for the last time, Janeway took careful note of their expressions. Harry Kim was beaming, unable to control his boyish enthusiasm. That made sense to Janeway; the future could only offer him happiness – and hopefully the promotion to lieutenant he so deserved. Tuvok followed, his face blank as always. Tom and the Doctor came next, and Janeway suspected Tom's excitement at having just become a father was tinged with concern at what would happen to his newly formed family. He and B'Elanna were going to have a tough time adjusting, Janeway knew. The Doctor took a seat opposite Chakotay rather quietly. Chakotay sat alone, looking somber. Their return no doubt left him with infinite questions and mixed emotions. Seven of Nine entered the room last. She seemed as cool as Tuvok, though Janeway suspected that being thrust into the midst of humans meant charting unknown worlds for her, perhaps frightening ones at that. She noticed Chakotay's contemplative mood perk as Seven took a seat beside him, and she felt an unexpected surge of butterflies in her stomach that she tried to dismiss.

Rather quickly she explained their orders from Starfleet Command, and Chakotay assigned each senior officer various tasks to shut down the ship and prepare the crew for departure.

"I need final reports from each of your departments in two hours," Janeway reminded them when he had finished. "I know it's a short deadline, but we have one more piece of business that I want to attend to this evening, and I'll need each of you to be able to focus completely on it."

Several of them looked at each other, unsure of what else there could be to do.

"Mr. Kim," she said with a crooked smile, "how well have you studied Mr. Paris over the last seven years?"

Harry looked at Tom with confusion. "Uh, Captain…?"

"I'm delegating the last assignment to you, and I expect you to outdo your predecessor." She paused for effect, enjoying the fact that none of them could anticipate her next words. "Harry, I am ordering you to throw a party the likes of which this ship – this quadrant – has never seen, and I want it to happen by 2000 and extend until the last crew member is standing. Is that understood?"

Harry's face broke into a grin. "Yes, ma'am," he said emphatically, unconsciously channeling Tom.

"Dismissed."

"Doctor, you are behaving irrationally," Seven of Nine said calmly, head tilted slightly to the side, hands clasped behind her back as the Doctor paced the floor of Sick Bay.

"Seven, we have catalogued over forty thousand species of flora and fauna, and I have to prepare cell samples, identification records, treatment protocols for new diseases, crew records, a complete inventory of equipment –"

"Doctor, we will finish the work if you will simply calm down and tell me how to proceed."

The Doctor huffed a little. "I don't even know if anyone but you will take an order from me anymore!"

"You are concerned that you will be deactivated?"

"Yes!" The Doctor stormed into his office, leaving Seven in the middle of the exam room.

"Captain Janeway has assured the crew that she will support them in their personal goals," Seven noted. "We can assume that includes you."

The Doctor poked his head around the office doorway. "Captain Janeway is no longer the highest ranking Starfleet officer around."

"That is correct. However, I have witnessed Captain Janeway's maternal devotion to certain members of this crew. I do not expect that she will tolerate anyone interfering with your autonomy."

"Seven," he said, emerging with a hypospray clutched defensively in one hand, "are you saying Captain Janeway is my mommy?"

"You're pretty excited about the last order from the captain, aren't you?" Tom asked as he and Harry headed toward Sick Bay.

"Hey, it's my niece's birthday. I'm going to make this the best party we've ever had on this ship." Harry grinned. "You heard the captain. My orders are to outdo you."

"Tall orders."

"Are you and B'Elanna going to bring the baby?"

"Only if the buffet features strained carrots and mashed peas."

"Funny, Tom. I think that's why the captain put me in charge."

They both chuckled lightly as the doors to Sick Bay parted. They entered the room, seeing Seven of Nine standing in the middle of it with her hands clasped behind her back. In the surgical bay the Doctor hastily scanned B'Elanna with a tricorder before dropping the device carelessly on a supply cart and moving toward Seven, whom he paced around in circles. Harry looked inquisitively at Seven, and she explained simply, "I believe he is panicking."

Tom and Harry shook off the Doctor's behavior, turning their energies toward the surgical bay. Harry tried to hang back, to give his friends a private moment together, but Tom put an arm around his shoulders and led him to the biobed. "Harry," he said, his voice full of pride, "meet your new niece, Miral Torres Paris."

"She's beautiful," he said, directing a sweet smile at B'Elanna. "Congratulations."

"Do you want to hold her?" she asked. His eyes widened in surprise, and he nodded. She passed the baby to him, and as he took her into his arms, Harry's smile grew. He began talking quietly to the baby, forgetting his friends were even present.

"What's going on with the Doc?" Tom asked B'Elanna as he perched on the edge of the biobed next to her.

She shrugged. "He thinks Starfleet is going to decompile his program."

"When can you leave?"

"Oh, trust me," she said, her eyes drifting toward the Doctor and Seven, "I'm ready now."

But the Doctor overheard, and, forgetting his panic, called across the room, "Four more hours, Lieutenant. You have to stay through a feeding." Then, professional cool abandoned, he resumed his self-obsession, followed into his office by the ever-patient Seven of Nine.

Harry began to feel that he was intruding. "I'd better get back to work," he said, handing Miral back to Tom. "If I don't see you tonight, well, congratulations."

As he left, B'Elanna turned to Tom for an explanation. "Captain Janeway wants us to have final reports ready in two hours, and then she ordered Harry to throw a big party for everyone at 2000."

B'Elanna smiled. "I can get my engineering report done from here, if the Doctor will let me access his console."

"No way," Tom said firmly but good-naturedly. "You need to rest. Tell me who you trust to do it, and I'll make sure it happens." Before she could protest, he added, "You can review it before it gets turned in."

"Tom, I can write a report. I'm not an invalid." She ran a finger across Miral's feather-soft cheek. "She's got your eyes."

"And your nose," he added softly. But then he looked at her seriously. "You just had a baby. There's no way the captain and Chakotay are going to let you go back to work. I'm sure that if the Doctor is finished with her, Seven could –"

"Vorik," she interrupted.

Tom knew he could goad her into cooperating with the threat of Seven taking over her department, but he was surprised at her choice of replacement. Vorik wasn't the second in command in engineering, nor was he necessarily one of her best engineers. He was also someone with whom B'Elanna had a rocky personal relationship – thanks to his interest in her when he was undergoing the pon farr and his unending talent for getting on her nerves.

"He's meticulous," she explained. "He'll get every detail. He also studies me, and he'll do it the way he thinks I would do it."

Tom nodded. "Okay, I'll tell Chakotay." He placed Miral into the nearby baby bed. "Harry's pretty excited about his new job as morale officer."

Seeing that the baby was resting safely and with the weight of her duties off her shoulders, B'Elanna suddenly felt very tired indeed – although she wouldn't admit it to Tom or the Doctor. She let herself lie down on the bed. "That was a pretty smart move on the captain's part. Seven told me about the communications blackout. Harry needs something to distract him from the fact that he can't talk to his family." She turned her head toward Tom. "Speaking of family, you haven't heard from your father yet, have you?"

Tom shook his head. "The captain talked to him, but she wanted to let us tell him about Miral. He doesn't even know she was born."

"Tom, if you want to go to that party…"

He shook his head again. "I'm not leaving you and Miral."

B'Elanna reached out for his hand as she let her eyes close. "It's your last night on Voyager."

"Forget it. I'm not leaving your side."

"Fine," she mumbled sleepily. "Then I guess we'll all have to go."

The doors to the cargo bay rolled open noisily, and Seven's heels clicked on the floor as she crossed to the computer console where Icheb was working. She came up beside him slowly.

"How are you doing?"

"I've prepared most of my research," Icheb answered in that slightly flat voice of his. "I should be finished in another twenty minutes."

"Good," Seven said, with a slight purse of her lips. "However, my question was of a personal nature. I'm aware that this may be an adjustment for you."

"What about you?" Icheb wondered.

Seven tipped her head slightly to one side. "I suppose I am experiencing some apprehension."

"So am I." He stopped working and turned to her. "Seven, we don't have any family here. Where are we going to go? What are we going to do?"

"You will enter Starfleet Academy and thrive," she told him simply.

"And you?"

She shrugged off the question. "Captain Janeway has promised to take me to see her hometown. She will help me find suitable work."

Icheb had often heard the other crew members talk about their attachment to their families, and he was beginning to understand that he had that kind of attachment to Seven. "I don't want to be separated from you," he admitted.

"Then you won't be," she answered simply with a nod. He nodded back, understanding that the conversation was over. "There are three hours remaining until the party on the holodeck. I suggest we work together to finish the report on the salvaged Borg components. It will be a more efficient use of our time."

"Come in," the raspy voice called with some distress.

Janeway entered the darkened quarters, which she had heard Tom nickname "the Vulcan vault." Tuvok was sitting on the floor by his meditation lamp, his eyes closed and hands clasped together with forefingers outstretched. "How are you feeling, Tuvok?"

He did not move from his position but answered, "I am reassured that my condition will soon be treated."

Janeway knelt down beside him. "I'm sorry you have to wait until tomorrow. Starfleet needs time to set up the additional transporter biofilters and quarantine facilities. They think we might be bringing back something noxious from the Delta Quadrant."

"More noxious than Mr. Neelix's foodstuffs?"

Janeway looked at him in surprise, trying to gauge whether or not he was joking. "I'd like you to consider making an appearance at the party tonight."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow but did not open his eyes. "Captain, we have had this conversation on prior occasions."

"We've never been home before," Janeway argued, "and your security crew never needed a chance to say good-bye to you."

"We will be living together in quarantine for two weeks."

Janeway put a hand on Tuvok's arm, disrupting his concentration. He opened his eyes. "I know I've pushed you into a lot of things over the years, Tuvok, and I guess I'm asking for one more favor. It would mean a lot to me if the entire crew were there tonight – including my tactical officer, and friend."

"Will you excuse me, Captain?" Tuvok asked dispassionately. He resumed his meditative posture, and Janeway rose, feeling she had failed in her mission. But as she walked to the door, he added, "I would like to finish my meditation prior to 2000."

Janeway smiled as she exited his quarters.

"Chell?" Samantha Wildman asked with concern as she entered the mess hall. She found the Bolian standing behind the service counter, gathering up utensils and looking awfully calm for someone who had summoned her away from her duties for an emergency. "You said it was urgent?"

Chell nodded awkwardly with a blue finger to his lips. "I was wondering if you could offer some suggestions about various appetizers that could be served tonight on the holodeck," he said, gesturing slightly over his shoulder. Samantha leaned over the counter and saw Naomi crouched in the back corner of the galley, clutching her Flotter doll. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone she was here," Chell whispered.

"It's okay," Samantha reassured him, heading toward her daughter. The presence of the Flotter doll was telling. Naomi hadn't played with it in some time, claiming it was too babyish. Samantha squatted down next to her. "Naomi?"

Her daughter looked up with wide eyes. "I don't want to leave Voyager," she pouted.

Samantha frowned. "I know you don't, but we don't really have a choice." She settled beside her daughter more comfortably. "This is how life in Starfleet works. Missions end, and then officers have to prepare for new ones."

"Do we have to go to Ktaris?"

"Not if we don't want to."

"Will I still get to see Icheb and Seven?"

"Well, that depends upon where we go and where they go," Samantha said honestly. "But you can talk on subspace, and we can arrange to take vacations with them. You don't have to lose your friends just because you don't live on the same ship with them."

Naomi seemed slightly mollified. "I'm scared about seeing my father," she admitted after a moment.

"So am I."

This new revelation changed Naomi's perspective slightly. "Really?"

Samantha nodded. "But I have to remind myself that I'm a Starfleet officer, and that I can handle anything." She stroked her daughter's long red hair for a moment. "Captain Janeway has given everyone on board one final order."

"What is it?"

"We're supposed to be at a party that Ensign Kim is organizing at 2000. You don't want to disobey a direct order, do you?"

Naomi's eyes widened. "A party?"