Family Ties

Stardate 214836.4 (Wed 24 Mar 2376): Dr. Marcus discovers evidence that her grandfather may yet be alive. Meanwhile, Harry and Annika Kim give birth to their baby on Earth.

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Wildman quarters
Stardate 214759.2
3 October 2376, 0721 hrs

Voyager sat docked to one of the upper pylons of station Deep Space Nine, shuttles and auxiliary craft darting back and forth nearby while the starship resupplied prior to embarking on her new mission, joining Starfleet’s recent push to explore the Gamma Quadrant now that tensions between the Federation and the Dominion had begun to ease.

Naomi Wildman stirred in her bed. Just like any other morning, the half-human, half-Ktarian girl groaned, pulling her sheets over her head. Just like any other morning, her mother’s voice called out to her.

"Come on, sleepyhead," Lieutenant junior grade Samantha Wildman’s voice came from the main room in their quarters aboard the Starship Voyager. "It’s time to get up."

Naomi groaned again and slowly sat up in her bed. She rubbed her eyes, trying to will away the sleepiness. She ran a hand over the spikes on her forehead, then through her hair. She’d noticed when she first started to wake up that her nightshirt seemed too tight around her chest and that it was riding up around her hips, but had simply assumed it had twisted during the night. Now that she was sitting up, however, she realized the truth.

She’d grown again.

It had been a couple of years since her last growth spurt, and she’d finally started to get used to her body again. Now she’d have to start all over. For now, though…

"Mom!" Naomi called. Her voice cracked, starting out a little deeper than normal, then suddenly changing to a higher pitch. She started to crawl out of bed, and her feet hit the floor much sooner than she’d expected. She lost her balance, crumpling to the floor with a thud.

Wildman jumped in surprise as she set the food from the replicator on the table. First, Naomi’s voice had sounded strange, then, moments later, that crash had come from her room.

"Naomi, are you all right?" she asked in concern as she made her way to her daughter’s room. When she saw the lanky heap that was her daughter on the floor, she gasped in shock.

"I," Naomi began, picking herself up from the floor, "I think I grew again last night."

Wildman rushed to her daughter’s side, taking her arm as she helped the girl back up and onto the bed. "Careful, honey," she said. "You remember the last time. It’s going to take a while for you to find your balance again." She tapped her combadge and said, "Wildman to sickbay."

"Zimmerman here," came the voice of Voyager‘s resident holographic doctor, who’d finally taken a name — Kenneth Zimmerman — for himself a few months before.

"Naomi seems to have had another growth spurt," Wildman explained. "Could you or Dr. Marcus come down to make sure nothing’s wrong? I’d bring her up myself, but she’s still a little off-balance."

"Dr. Marcus is on Deep Space Nine right now," Zimmerman replied, "I’ll be down in a few minutes."

"Thank you, doctor," she said. "Wildman out." The combadge’s computer processed her words and executed the command that closed the channel. Wildman turned and sat on the edge of the bed beside Naomi. "How do you feel, sweetheart?" she asked her daughter.

"A little dizzy," Naomi admitted. "Other than that, pretty normal." She noticed the concern in her mother’s eyes, then added, "Don’t worry, mom. I’ve had growth spurts before."

"But never so much at once," Wildman said. "Stay here. I need to get your measurements so we can replicate some new clothes for you." She stood and started to walk to the door.

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Right now?" she protested.

Wildman turned and cocked an eyebrow. "Do you really want to walk around in that all day?" she asked. "The rest of your clothes won’t fit much better."

Naomi looked down at herself. "Good point," she admitted.

Deep Space Nine
Quark’s Bar and Casino
Stardate 214759.2
3 October 2376, 0747 hrs

"So, I ran a simple diagnostic scan," said Dr. Danielle Marcus as she sat at the table in Quark’s, where she was finishing breakfast with Deep Space Nine‘s chief physician, Dr. Julian Bashir, "and it immediately said that she was pregnant. I was just floored. I mean, I knew that she and Kim had been in a relationship since just after Voyager found the Challenger, but Dr. Zimmerman had her on a regimen to inhibit the distribution of nanoprobes in her sexual organs that included the use of condoms by Lieutenant Kim to help block any errant nanoprobes."

"Condoms?" Bashir asked in surprise. "Seems a little archaic to me."

"I thought so, too," Marcus admitted. "I was more concerned that the pores in the latex would be too large to stop the nanoprobes, but Dr. Zimmerman was confident that it wouldn’t be a problem." She took a drink of orange juice from her glass, then continued, "Archaic as birth control, but effective for repelling the Borg."

"Fire latex torpedoes," Bashir quipped. "So, tell me about your family. I understand your grandfather is James Kirk; I met him once."

"You met him?" Marcus asked in confusion. "How could you have met him? He’s been dead for decades! Even I’ve never met him!"

"Time travel accident," Bashir explained simply. "But, he didn’t die on the Enterprise-B. I’d thought you’d have heard about that."

"No," Marcus said, shocked. "I hadn’t."

"That energy ribbon," Bashir said, "was actually a kind of doorway to some sort of temporal Nexus. When the Enterprise-D encountered it, Captain Picard was able to pull him out. He died later, helping Picard stop a madman named Soran, who would have killed millions in trying to get back into the Nexus."

Marcus stared at her plate, which she’d already cleaned off, stunned. After a few moments, she looked up at Julian. "Thanks for breakfast, doctor," she said, almost absentmindedly. "I’ve… I’ve got to get back to Voyager before my shift starts."

"My pleasure," Bashir said, rising as she stood and made her way out of the bar and onto the bustling Promenade. As she walked toward the exit that led to the pylon where Voyager was docked, she noticed Voyager‘s science officer, Lieutenant Dan Phillips, about a dozen meters away.

"Dan," Marcus called, waving her arm in the air to get his attention. He turned, then noticed her in the crowd.

"Good morning, doctor," Phillips said as he walked up to her. "You on shore leave, too?"

"Just heading back to the ship, actually," Marcus said. "I had breakfast with the station’s chief surgeon." Phillips nodded, and she continued, "I know you work for Temporal Investigations. I was wondering if you knew anything about the Nexus."

"Why the sudden interest?" Phillips asked.

"I just found out that my grandfather was trapped in it for eighty years," Marcus said. "That he didn’t die on the Enterprise-B like I’d thought."

"I thought you already knew about that," Phillips replied apologetically. "I read a report about the Veridian III incident just a few months ago; I’d never brought it up out of respect for your family."

"I appreciate your intentions," Marcus said. "What can you tell me about the Nexus itself?"

"Well," Phillips replied, "the only people the DTI agents on the case could speak to about it that were still alive were Picard and the Enterprise-D’s bartender, an El-Aurian named Guinan."

"El-Aurian?" Marcus asked. "Was she on the ship the Enterprise-B rescued?"

"That’s right," Phillips said. "Apparently, Picard encountered an… echo of Guinan, she called herself, that stayed in the Nexus. She led him to Kirk."

"An echo?" Marcus asked. "You mean there’s a part of her that’s still in there?"

"That was Picard’s impression," Phillips replied. "Unfortunately, none of the El-Aurians who survived the Nexus encounter have been very forthcoming. They all seem to want to forget about the whole thing."

"An echo," Marcus repeated, almost murmuring the words to herself. She turned her attention back to her shipmate. "Thanks, Dan," she said. "You’ve been a big help."

"Sure, anytime," he replied as the young doctor turned and purposefully made her way toward the docking port.

Earth
San Francisco, California
Starfleet Engineering
Research and Development Labs
Stardate 214759.2
3 October 2376, 0800 hrs

"Good morning," Lieutenant Harry Kim said as he and his wife, the former Borg drone, Seven of Nine, who had taken the name of Annika Kim for the last several months, stepped into the conference room at the headquarters of the Research and Development branch of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers. Light streamed through the large windows along the far wall, through which one could see the panorama of the San Francisco Bay area.

"What’s the word, Harry?" asked Lieutenant junior grade Tom Paris as he took a seat at the room’s large, ovoid table next to his new bride, the half-human, half-Klingon Lieutenant B’Elanna Paris.

Harry helped his very pregnant spouse into her seat across from the Parises. He pulled out a chair for himself, then said as he took his seat, "I spoke with Admiral Quinteros yesterday. He feels it’s time to stop talking about the new technologies we’ve brought back. He wants us to design a new class of starship with them."

"Just the four of us?" Tom asked incrudulously. "He’s crazy! It takes dozens of engineers to design a ship!"

"Yeah?" B’Elanna asked sardonically, turning in her seat to look her husband in the eye. "And just look how great ships like the Antares class turned out. Those kludged-together pieces of crap were barely spaceworthy when they were new, and they’re still a shining example of design by committee!"

"We can do it," Harry said, hoping to avert the argument before it really got underway. "We’re the only ones that really understand this technology. Besides, we’ve done it before with the Delta Flyer shuttles."

"There’s a big difference between a shuttle and a starship," Tom argued.

"We won’t be completely on our own," Harry replied. "We’ll be heading the project, with the admiral’s staff at our disposal." He paused briefly to collect his thoughts, folding his hands on the table before him as he continued, "I’ve given some thought to what we should call this new ship. I… I think it should be the Dauntless."

"You want to name it after Arturis’ ship?" B’Elanna asked incredulously. "That maniac tried to get us all assimilated!"

"He blamed us for his people’s fall to the Borg," Harry countered defensively. "If it weren’t for him, we never would have learned about the Quantum Slipstream drive, and we’d still be stuck in the Delta Quadrant. Besides," he looked his friends in they eyes before continuing earnestly, "I think it would be right to honor their memory this way." He looked to his wife, then continued, "And maybe, one day, they’ll be able to thank us for it."

"You’re right, buddy," Tom agreed. "Dauntless it is."

B’Elanna rolled her eyes skyward. "You’re hopeless, Starfleet," she muttered.

"I take it we’re going with the Slipstream drive, then," Tom said, bringing the conversation back on-topic.

"Defintely," Harry said.

"Do you want to include a warp drive system in case the Slipstream drive fails for some reason?" Tom asked.

"What about the Sikarian Spatial Projector?" B’Elanna asked. "Do we want to haul that out and try to get it working?"

A mischievous grin crossed Tom’s features. "Sure," he agreed enthusiastically. "And while we’re at it, let’s throw in the kitchen sink, too!"

"We should stick to what we’ve already got working," Harry said, shaking his head in amusement. "A backup drive system is a good idea, though, Tom."

Suddenly, Annika’s eyes went wide and she gasped, clutching her belly and doubling over in her chair.

"Seven, are you okay?" Harry asked.

"I believe I am entering childbirth," Annika replied with another gasp.

Harry stood, taking her arm to help her out of her seat. "Let’s get you to the hospital," he said.

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Science Lab
Stardate 214759.3
3 October 2376, 0815 hrs

"Good morning, captain," Jeffrey Zimmerman, the holographic "son" of Voyager‘s holographic doctor, Kenneth Zimmerman, said as Chakotay stepped into one of the science labs aboard Voyager. A few months earlier, several areas of the ship had been equipped with holoemitters to allow the newest additions to the Voyager family — Jeffrey and his "mother," Charlene — to join their shipmates outside of the holodecks.

"Good morning, Jeffrey," Chakotay replied amiably. The young hologram — who had only gained sentience a few months earlier — had called him to the science lab, where he’d been working on a project to construct an android body to house his program since shortly after he’d become self-aware.

"Thanks for coming," Jeffrey said. "I wanted to thank you again for allowing me to use the science lab while building my body." He indicated the rigid figure near the far wall, its back facing Chakotay.

"I assume it must be nearly complete," Chakotay said. "We got a transmission from the Enterprise this morning, telling us that Commander Data was en route to DS9 for a visit."

"That’s right, captain," Jeffrey replied. "He’s been working closely with me on this. Right now, I’m just working on my appearance."

"Mind if I take a look?" Chakotay asked.

"Not at all," Jeffrey replied. Chakotay made his way across the room, then circled the inactive body until he was face-to-face with it.

"Very impressive work," Chakotay commented.

"Thank you, captain," Jeffrey replied. "I do have another request for you."

Chakotay turned his head to look at the hologram, who looked virtually identical to the android before him. "What would that be?" Chakotay asked.

"Quarters, sir," Jeffrey replied. "Now that I’ll have a… solid body, I don’t see much reason to continue living on the holodeck."

"Have you discussed this with your parents?" Chakotay asked.

"Yes," Jeffrey replied.

"And?" Chakotay prompted.

"And I’m not a child," Jeffrey protested. "My mom didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of my moving out, but ‘childhood’ has a completely different definition for an artificial lifeform."

"That being?" Chakotay asked.

"That being," Jeffrey replied, "that maturity can be attained in a much shorter time span than with an organic."

"’An organic?’" Chakotay repeated.

"I don’t mean that in an offensive way, captain," Jeffrey replied. "You’re an organic life form. I’m not. Simply put, there are some very basic differences in our life cycles."

"Just be careful how you choose your words," Chakotay cautioned, "around a less understanding audience."

"Yes, sir," Jeffrey replied.

"I’ll speak with your parents," Chakotay said, steering the conversation back on-topic, "and I’ll give your request some thought. Will that suffice?"

"That’s all I can ask," Jeffrey replied. "Thank you, sir."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Sickbay
Stardate 214759.3
3 October 2376, 0831 hrs

"Doctor?" Naomi Wildman asked, peeking around the divider separating the office in which Danielle Marcus sat, reading from the computer console, and the rest of the sickbay aboard Voyager. "Doctor Marcus?" Naomi repeated.

Marcus looked up, blinking her eyes as her mind readjusted to her present location. "Yes?" she asked. "Oh, I’m sorry, Naomi. What can I do for you?"

"I just needed to talk to somebody," Naomi replied. "I can find someone else if you’re too busy."

"No, no, come in," Marcus said. She gestured to the seat opposite the desk that dominated the small office. "Please, sit down." When Naomi had taken the offered seat, she continued, "Trouble adjusting? Being a teenager was hard enough for me; I can’t imagine what this must be like for you."

"It’s not that," Naomi said. "Growing up fast like this is normal to me."

"Then what’s on your mind?" Marcus asked. When Naomi didn’t respond immediately, she looked into the girl’s eyes. "Oh," she said, realization dawning on her. "This is boy trouble."

"Yeah," Naomi admitted.

"Who is it?" Marcus asked when Naomi didn’t elaborate. "If you don’t mind me asking, that is."

"It’s Jeffrey," Naomi replied.

"Jeffrey Zimmerman, Jeffrey?" Marcus asked for clarification. Naomi nodded, biting her lip nervously. "Let me guess: You’re harboring some pretty strong emotions about him. You think you’re in love with him, but you’re not sure, and you’re worried if he feels the same way about you or not. Does that about cover it?"

"Um," Naomi hesitated, "yeah. He’s nice. He’s funny. And even though I know he’s a hologram and can look like anything he wants, I think he’s kinda cute."

"Don’t worry too much," Marcus replied. "I went through the same thing. Everyone does. Have you talked to him about it?"

"No," Naomi admitted. "I didn’t know if I should, or even what I’d say."

"That’s always the problem," Marcus chuckled. "Speak from the heart. He’s a bright young m– uh, hologram, and judging from what little I’ve seen of the two of you together, I can tell he enjoys spending time with you.

"You don’t think it would scare him off?" Naomi asked. "I mean, until this morning, I was just some little kid he hung out with. If there were any other kids aboard, I don’t know if he’d have anything to do with me!"

"Why’s that?" Marcus asked.

"What teenager would hang around with a little kid if they had a choice?" Naomi asked pointedly. "Don’t you think that he’d get a little freaked out if I’d told him this when I still looked like a ten-year-old?"

Marcus looked at the now-teenage girl dubiously. The more things changed…! "Naomi," she said seriously, "I think you’re selling yourself short. He’s not really a teenager, for one thing–"

"Neither am I," Naomi interrupted.

"Point taken," Marcus admitted. "What I’m trying to say is that the two of you have a lot in common. You already said you’re friends, right?"

"Right," Naomi replied.

"Look at it from his perspective," Marcus said. "He’s a hologram. And he’s only a few months old himself. He’s still trying to adjust to his life as much as you’re going to have to adjust to the changes in yours in the next few weeks. Why don’t you try talking to him about this? You never know — maybe he feels the same way too. By definition, his very existence is what most people would consider weird."

Naomi stood from her chair, slowly, so as to maintain her still- precarious balance. "Thanks, doctor," she said, turning toward the exit. "I think."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Xenobiology Lab
Stardate 214759.3
3 October 2376, 0833 hrs

The doors of the Xenobiology lab parted with a muted hiss as Commander Everett Dyson, Voyager‘s first officer following its return to the Federation, entered the small room. He immediately saw the person he was looking for: Sam Wildman, who was seated in front of one of the computer terminals, but obviously having difficulty focusing on her work.

"Hi, Sam," Dyson said. "You look like you need somebody to talk to. I heard about Naomi, so I can guess what’s on your mind."

"It’s," Wildman began hesitantly, "it’s nothing, Ev."

"Don’t give me that, Sam," Dyson replied. "This is tearing you up inside. I can see it in your face."

Wildman shot him a wounded look. "Am I that transparent?"

"When it comes to your daughter," Dyson answered, "yes. But it’s one thing to be stoic for her; it’s another thing entirely to try to be that way all the time."

"You’re right," Wildman said softly, turning back to the computer console so she wouldn’t have to look at him. "I just wasn’t ready for this. For any of this." She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment, but she forced herself to open up, to let it out. She knew that, sometimes, sharing what she felt with someone helped her feel better, even if nothing was actually accomplished in the process.

"I always knew K’tarians matured faster than humans," Wildman began, "but I guess I just always figured that since she was half-human, she wouldn’t go through that. Gres… he was five when we met, an adult by K’tarian custom. When I found out I was pregnant, even then, I set myself up for a normal, human lifespan. The pregnancy was normal, by all human standards. Even a little on the long side. I thought she’d keep maturing at that pace, and I locked myself into looking forward to eighteen years with my daughter.

"But then the first growth spurt hit," Wildman continued. "I woke up one morning, and my baby was suddenly a two-year-old. I panicked. I called the Doctor, I called Neelix, I even called the captain. But they told me that this was normal, that hybrid children often exhibit traits of both species, and the maturation of a hybrid from species with such radically different maturation processes would be somewhat unpredictable." She laughed derisively at herself, which came out almost as a snort. "I should know that, right? I mean, I’m a xenobiologist, for god’s sake."

"Sam," Dyson began, "it’s all right."

"Is it?" Wildman asked defensively. "She’s four years old, but she already looks, acts and thinks like she’s fifteen. At this rate, not only will I never have eighteen years, I’ll be lucky if I have nine!"

"Sam," Dyson said, "Naomi is cute, smart, funny… she’s a great kid. That’s because of you. I don’t want you to ever forget that."

"Ev, I just want my little girl," Wildman said sadly.

Earth
San Francisco, California
Starfleet Medical
Maternity Ward
Stardate 214759.8
3 October 2376, 1238 hrs

Tom and B’Elanna sat in the waiting room down the hall from the delivery room where, for the last several hours, their friend Annika Kim had been in labor, delivering her first child into the world. Suddenly, they saw a number of doctors who had been slowly, but continually, flowing into the room scurrying out, and then they heard the reason why before they actually saw him.

"Out!" a gruff, ornery voice was yelling from within the delivery room. "Get out, the lot of you! Give these kids some space!"

"But," one argued weakly, "but, Dr. McCoy! This is the first child born to an expatriated Borg–"

"Go on!" the owner of the voice, a small, extremely aged old man apparently named Dr. McCoy yelled again as he chased the younger doctors into the hall outside the room. "You wanna poke an’ prod this kid his first few minutes of life? You call yourselves doctors? That baby’s not going anywhere! Let the parents be!"

As the younger doctors scurried away from the delivery room, McCoy turned, fixing his gaze on Tom and B’Elanna. He strode toward them — more quickly than they’d imagined a man of his obvious years could accomplish — and stopped in front of their chairs.

"You folks here with the Kims?" he asked, his voice now very genial.

"Yes, sir," Tom replied, now recognizing who was standing before him: Admiral Leonard McCoy, Surgeon General Emeritus of Starfleet, who had apparently taken a personal interest in the delivery and well-being of Harry and Annika’s baby. "Tom Paris," he continued, rising to his feet. "This is my wife, B’Elanna."

"Half-Klingon," McCoy noted. "Your mother human?"

"Father," B’Elanna answered simply.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, ma’am," McCoy said with a smile. "Name’s McCoy. Leonard McCoy, but you can call me Bones." He turned and indicated the delivery room. "Your friends are waitin’ for you." He led the Parises to the delivery room, where the saw Harry and Annika, their baby — a boy, McCoy had said — resting on her chest. Annika noted the trio’s entry and smiled warmly.

"Harry," Tom greeted his friends. "Seven."

"Tom," Harry replied warmly.

"How’s the baby?" B’Elanna asked.

"He’s fine," Harry said. "All those doctors were pretty interested in him, though. Apparently, he was born with Borg hardware, but it’s like nothing anyone’s seen before; it’s completely one with his system, flawlessly connected to the organic systems of his body."

"Have you decided on a name?" B’Elanna asked.

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "Thomas Magnus Kim." Tom’s eyebrows perked up. "That’s right, Tom. We named him after you."

"I’m honored," Tom said honestly.

"His middle name is for Seven’s father," Harry continued. "We wanted to honor his spirit, to remember him somehow."

A moment of respectful silence passed after the mention of Annika’s father, who had been assimilated decades earlier with the rest of his family and later killed when Voyager was forced to destroy the Borg vessel he was aboard, before B’Elanna continued, "So, Harry… you said his Borg components are one with the rest of his body. What Borg components?"

"Well, they’re all sub-dermal," Harry replied. "Actually, that’s a good thing. It’ll help him blend in better while he grows up. He’s got — well, I guess implants isn’t the best word, but it’ll have to do — he’s got implants along his bones that seem to strengthen them and simultaneously enhance his musculature. He’s three times stronger than a normal infant his age."

"That could be a problem in the next few years," Tom quipped.

"It’s already becoming a problem," Harry said. "He doesn’t have fine motor control yet, so he’s breaking a lot of what he gets his hands on."

"What other enhancements does he have?" B’Elanna asked.

"His retinas are lined with a sensor net similar to Seven’s ocular implant," Harry said. "He’s got something similar on his eardrums. Plus, he’s got an unusual transciever assembly in his brain."

"He’s not trying to contact the Collective, is he?" B’Elanna asked.

"No," Harry said, "that’s what’s unusual. It’s strictly short-range. We’re not sure how it works, or what it’s for. He’s got a lot of things we just can’t classify yet."

"I am hungry," Annika said suddenly. "Wait, no, I am not hungry. I just ate. Yet, I feel intense hunger."

Harry and B’Elanna looked at Annika, then at baby Tommy, then, finally, at one another. "The transciever!" they exclaimed simultaneously.

"Seven," Harry began excitedly as he came to his wife’s side. "It’s not you that’s hungry, it’s Tommy!"

"That would seem to make sense," Annika replied. "The sensation I now feel is similar to when I would receive data from the Collective. I must now be receiving images, emotions, and sensations from our son."

"If he’s hungry," McCoy chuckled, sitting quietly aside, nearly forgotten by the others, "then maybe you should feed him."

Annika opened the front of her hospital gown and brought the infant’s head near her breast. Tommy immediately began making a suckling gesture with his mouth, then found Annika’s nipple and began to drink. She gasped.

"This is a curious sensation," Annika said. "Not entirely uncomfortable, yet somehow pleasing. I am also receiving a sensation of satisfaction from Tommy."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Ready Room
Stardate 214760.0
3 October 2376, 1417 hrs

"Request denied," Chakotay said, leaning back in the desk chair of his ready room.

"Captain, please," Marcus pleaded. "Let me explain. I’m convinced that my grandfather is still alive, inside the Nexus."

"I’m not," Chakotay countered, "and I won’t have you run off and risk your life trying to prove it."

"Let me take one of the Delta Flyer shuttles," Marcus said. "They’ve got slipstream now, and we could get to the ribbon in two days. Baytart’s a good pilot — he won’t get caught in the ribbon. He can beam me into it in an environmental suit. The risk is minimal."

"Doctor," Chakotay said firmly, "I know what this means to you. Really, I do. But your request is still denied. I can’t afford to lose either Baytart or yourself." Marcus turned and exited the ready room.

Marcus entered Voyager‘s shuttlebay, noting with relief that not only was the Kes still in the main hangar, but the bay doors were open, as Voyager had support craft moving in and out of the shuttlebay. She pulled a phaser from the weapons locker near the shuttle control booth, then walked briskly to the Kes and stepped inside.

"Everybody out," she ordered, waving the phaser threateningly at everyone in the Kes‘ cockpit. Not wanting to be shot — particularly when the phaser’s setting was unknown — the engineering technicians quickly fled into the shuttlebay. As soon as they were all off, Marcus sealed the shuttle’s hatch.

"Captain," Dyson’s voice issued over the comm system in the ready room moments later, "we’ve just had an unauthorized shuttle launch. Somebody’s stolen the Kes."

"Damn," Chakotay said, making his way to the bridge. As he stepped from his ready room, he ordered, "Yellow alert. Clear an emergency departure with Ops. Pursuit course."

"Ops has cleared us," Ensign Marla Gilmore announced from the Ops station at the rear of the bridge. "Colonel Kira’s wishing us good hunting."

Chakotay nodded, then turned to Baytart at the helm. "Go get her, Pablo," he said.

Dan Phillips was crossing one of the walkways on the upper level of Deep Space Nine‘s Promenade when a sudden movement outside of the large windows facing the docking pylon caught his attention. He stared, dumbfounded, and he watched, helpless, as the Starship Voyager shot away from the station and jumped to warp.

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Science lab
Stardate 214760.0
3 October 2376, 1424 hrs

The android Lieutenant Commander Data stepped through the doors into Voyager‘s science lab. Jeffrey was waiting for him, and Data immediately saw the young hologram’s new android body sanding stiffly along the far wall, its eyes closed as if sleeping.

"Hi, Data," Jeffrey called in greeting. "You didn’t have any problems getting here, did you?"

"There was insufficient volume in Voyager‘s shuttlebay," Data replied, "so I was required to land at Deep Space Nine and come aboard from there. A minor inconvenience."

"What do you think?" Jeffrey asked, indicating the android body he had constructed. "Instead of a positronic system like you’ve got, I went instead with a variation of the bio-neural systems on Voyager. That should make it easier for me to transfer my program in and out of the body if I have to, and I won’t have to modify it beyond a new switching subroutine for holographic projection and manipulation of the physical body."

Before Data could respond, the doors to the science lab slid open once again. As he and Jeffrey turned to see the new arrival, Naomi stepped into the room.

"Oh, hi," Naomi said to Data, before turning her attention to Jeffrey. "I didn’t realize you weren’t alone."

"Naomi," Jeffrey began in surprise, "you’ve… grown."

"Yeah," Naomi said. "I had a growth spurt last night. Your dad examined me this morning; I’m surprised you hadn’t heard."

"I’ve been in here all day," Jeffrey said. He realized she hadn’t been introduced to Data. "Oh, Naomi, this is Lieutenant Commander Data of the Enterprise. Data, this is Naomi Wildman."

"Hi," Naomi said, extending her hand in greeting.

"I am pleased to meet you, Naomi," Data said, taking her hand and giving it a firm, measured shake.

Naomi looked over to the inactive android body by the wall. "Is it finished?" she asked.

"Yes," Jeffrey replied. "I was just about to transfer my program into it for the first time."

Naomi smiled and was about to say something, but the alert klaxon interrupted her.

"All hands, this is the captain," Chakotay’s voice said from the comm system speakers. "One of our shuttlecraft has been stolen. We are leaving Deep Space Nine on a pursuit course. Mr. Data, please report to the bridge."

Earth
San Francisco, California
Maternity ward, Starfleet Medical
Stardate 214765.0
5 October 2376, 1027 hrs

Dr. McCoy glanced at the readouts on the PADD a nurse handed to him as he stepped into the room occupied by Harry, Annika and Tommy Kim. He thrust the PADD back at the nurse a moment later, then walked over to the bedside.

"How are we doing today?" McCoy asked.

"I believe the readings you were just handed by your nurse–" Annika began, but McCoy cut her off.

"Damned technology," McCoy muttered. "That’s fine for telling me your heart is beating at the right rate, your temperature is fine… but it’s useless for telling me how you’re feeling."

"I feel much better," Annika said. "Are you not going to release us to go home?"

"I just wanted to take a look at you myself first, young lady," McCoy grinned. "I’m just an old country doctor at heart." He noticed her looking quizzically at her son, who lay in a crib nearby. "You using that neurotransciever again?"

"Yes," Annika replied.

"Well don’t get too blasted dependent on it," McCoy warned. "All the technology in the universe can’t replace good, old-fashioned parenting."

"I will keep that in mind," Annika replied.

"Well, my dear, you look healthy enough," McCoy said, stepping back from the bedside. He turned to Harry and said, "Take ’em home, son. And take good care of that baby of yours."

"I intend to, sir," Harry replied with a smile.

Harry held the door to the apartment open as Annika walked through, their infant son in her arms.

"He is confused," Annika said. "But he likes the bright colors."

Harry grinned. "I had all his toys reinforced with duranium," he said as they entered Tommy’s room. "He should have a harder time breaking them now. I just hope he doesn’t try to squeeze my fingers too hard."

Annika placed Tommy in his crib and the infant looked around, taking in his new surroundings. He looked up to his parents for comfort.

"Does he know who we are?" Harry asked.

"He felt a closeness to me from the start," Annika replied. "I had to provide him with the necessary data to recognize you."

"So the link is two-way," Harry said. "That could make his education interesting."

"I will augment his classroom education as he grows," Annika said, "but I will endeavor not to become ‘too blasted dependent on it,’ as Dr. McCoy insisted." Harry smiled, and the new parents looked back in the crib at their infant son, who had fallen into a blissful slumber.

Shuttlecraft Kes
Deep space
Stardate 214765.0
5 October 2376, 1047 hrs

Marcus brought the Kes out of slipstream, and dropped back into normal Einsteinian space, the energy ribbon of the Nexus a few thousand kilometers ahead of her. She punched in the shuttle’s autopilot, instructing it to keep its distance. She made her way to the rear compartment of the shuttle and pulled an environmental suit from the locker. As she began putting the garment on, the communications system came to life.

"Voyager to Kes," Chakotay’s voice came over the shuttle’s speakers. "Dr. Marcus, respond, please."

Marcus ignored her commanding officer’s voice as she locked her helmet into place. She pressed a button on a nearby control panel and disappeared in the shimmering glow of a transporter beam.

"She’s beamed herself into the ribbon," Gilmore called from the Ops console. "She’s phasing in and out of reality. The transporter room’s reporting trouble getting a lock on her."

"Keep trying," Chakotay urged.

"Damn it!" Gilmore growled, pounding a fist on her console. "We’ve lost her, sir. She’s gone."

Marcus stood, disoriented, her vision blurred, but slowly returning to normal. Where am I? she thought. Did I make it?

"Danielle?" a voice asked behind her. Marcus turned, then stopped in shock. It was her mother, Arianne Winters, one of the scientists on the Genesis Project nearly a century before who had left when she discovered she was pregnant with the child of David Marcus… who was standing to her right. And on her left… was Carol Marcus, restored to her youth and looking just as she remembered her from when they first met seventy years earlier.

"Mom?" Marcus asked in shock. "Grandma? Dad? What’s going on? How is this possible? You’re all dead!"

"You’re home," Winters said. "We’re all together, forever. Nothing can separate us, ever again."

"No," Marcus said, clenching her fists in concentration. "This can’t be real. This… this is the Nexus!" She turned to her "family." "Where’s my grandfather?" she demanded. "Where’s Jim Kirk?"

"He’s around here, somewhere," David said.

"I’ve got to find him," Marcus said. She turned and, as she stepped through a doorway, suddenly found herself inside a different home. She looked out a nearby window; it looked like Earth, but it was difficult to tell sometimes. There was a Great Dane seated about two meters in front of her, eyeing her warily. Marcus extended her arm, the back of her hand facing the dog. It sniffed her cautiously, then began licking enthusiastically.

"It seems he likes you," the voice of Jim Kirk came from behind Marcus. She spun, and found herself face-to-face with the grandfather she never knew. He looked her over, then said, "I take it you’re from Starfleet, too."

"That’s right," she answered. "Lieutenant Danielle Marcus, M.D. I’m here from 2376."

"Just don’t tell me you’re here because you need me to save the universe," Kirk quipped.

"No," Marcus replied. "I’m here to get you out of here. Do you remember Veridian III?"

"Never been there," Kirk said. "Which is odd, because I remember leaving with Picard, but I also remember watching myself leave with Picard."

"That’s what I thought," Marcus said. "A part of you always remains in the Nexus."

"So," Kirk began, "if you don’t want me to save the universe, then why are you here?"

"You’re my grandfather," Marcus replied. Kirk looked at her dubiously. "No, really. My father is David Marcus, your son."

"David died in 2287," Kirk said, his voice harsh. "You said you’re from 2376."

"I was born in 2285," Marcus explained. "My mom never told David about me. She didn’t even tell me until I was eighteen, and you’d disappeared years before that. I took his name, joined Starfleet and became a doctor. My first posting was the Challenger, and we were caught in an unstable wormhole during a fight with a Gorn ship. It left us in 2375. Only fifty of us survived."

Kirk was silent a moment, then laughed to himself. "Carol was right," he said softly.

"Right about what?" Marcus asked.

"She said David was a lot like me," Kirk replied. "I guess she was more right than either of us knew."

"Come on," Marcus said. "I’ve got a shuttle waiting for us outside the ribbon."

"How do you know we’ll actually leave?" Kirk asked.

"We will," Marcus assured him. "You left with Picard last time, but you were… you were killed during the ensuing fight. Be glad that part of you stays behind; you’re now, essentially, immortal."

"Now I’m really glad I don’t remember Veridian III," Kirk muttered.

"Just stay with me," Marcus said. "I’m following Picard’s report on how he got out of the Nexus with you the first time. I’ll take us to my shuttle at the same time as I was beaming myself into the ribbon."

"Voyager to Kes," Chakotay’s voice came over the shuttle’s speakers. "Dr. Marcus, respond, please."

Marcus ignored her commanding officer’s voice as she locked her helmet into place. She pressed a button on a nearby control panel and disappeared in the shimmering glow of a transporter beam.

Kirk and Marcus appeared a few feet away from the past Marcus just as the transport began, but Marcus’ past self didn’t notice them. The pair made their way to the shuttle’s cockpit, where Marcus keyed the communications system.

"Kes to Voyager," Marcus said.

"Dr. Marcus?" Chakotay asked, confusion in his voice. "Our sensors say you just beamed yourself into the ribbon."

"I did," Marcus said, "but I’m also on the shuttle. It has to do with a lot of temporal mechanics that I really don’t want to think about. Maybe Dan can explain it for us later." She paused a moment, then continued, "I did it, sir. My grandfather is also aboard with me, and I’m requesting permission to land."

"Permission granted," Chakotay said. "I’ll meet you in the shuttlebay. Oh, and doctor," he added, "don’t think this absolves you of disobeying my orders." Chakotay cut the transmission, and Marcus instructed the shuttle to head for Voyager‘s shuttlebay.

"It seems David isn’t the only one who took after me," Kirk quipped.

Marcus and Kirk stepped out of the Kes and into Voyager‘s shuttlebay, where Chakotay and Dyson stood, waiting.

"Permission to come aboard?" Kirk asked as he reached Chakotay.

"Permission granted, captain," Chakotay replied. "It’s an honor to meet you, sir." He turned to Marcus. "Doctor, it seems you were right. That doesn’t change the fact that you stole the Kes to get here."

"Sir," Marcus said, "it seemed like the only way that I could get my grandfather out of the Nexus."

"Nevertheless," Chakotay continued, "I still have to punish you. You’re confined to quarters while off-duty until we get back to Deep Space Nine, but you are permitted visitors. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Marcus said, trying to suppress the grin crossing her lips. "I understand."

Earth
San Francisco, California
Starfleet Medical
Office of the Surgeon General
Stardate 214765.1
5 October 2376, 1115 hrs

The computer console on the desk in McCoy’s office beeped. Then it beeped again.

"Oh, hell," McCoy muttered in frustration. "Now what?" He glanced at the screen: Incoming Subspace Message. He pressed a button, opening the channel. "Starfleet Medical. McCoy here."

The face of Danielle Marcus appeared on his screen. "Hi, Bones," she said, an infectious smile on her face.

McCoy smiled back at her. "Hello, young lady," he said. "Haven’t heard from you in a while."

"This is a special occasion," Marcus said. "Can you be at Deep Space Nine in two days?"

"Hell, I could be there tomorrow if I wanted," McCoy said.

"We won’t be there for two days," Marcus said. "And if you could bring Spock and anyone else from the old Enterprise you can find, it would be even better."

"You plannin’ a reunion?" McCoy drawled.

"Something like that," Marcus said. "I just came back from the Nexus."

McCoy’s jaw dropped. "The… the Nexus?" he repeated. "You mean you… Is he…?" Marcus nodded. "We’ll be there. You can count on it."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
En Route to Deep Space Nine
Holodeck Three
Stardate 214768.4
6 October 2376, 1630 hrs

Data and Jeffrey stepped through the wide, heavy doors of the holodeck. Inside was a modest cottage home surrounded by a wide lawn, which was bordered by a grove of trees.

"This is your home?" Data asked. Jeffrey nodded.

The pair walked up the path leading to the front door and entered the house.

"Mom! Dad! I’m home!" Jeffrey called as he and Data entred the living room.

Charlene stepped into the room a moment later. "Jeffrey," she said, surprised. "I wasn’t expecting you back for another hour or two. Is everything all right?"

"Yes, everything’s fine," Jeffrey replied. "Mom, you remember Commander Data."

"Ma’am," Data greeted.

Charlene smiled and looked to her son. "If he’s here, then I take it your android body is just about finished, then."

Jeffrey laughed. "Mom," he said, "this is my android body."

"Oh," she said. She looked him over. "It looks good. I couldn’t tell the difference."

At that moment, the air shimmered a few feet to Charlene’s right, and Kenneth Zimmerman, Voyager‘s holographic physician, appeared on the holodeck.

"Dad," Jeffrey greeted, "I was hoping you’d show up."

"Jeffrey," Zimmerman said, returning his son’s greeting. "Commander Data." He looked carefully, appraisingly at his son. "Is that your android body?"

"Yeah," Jeffrey replied. "I was finally able to transfer my program into it this morning."

"I see," Zimmerman said. "I still wish you’d remained a hologram, but I have to admit, I’m… proud of you. Building this body is a remarkable accomplishment."

"Thanks," Jeffrey said. "That means a lot, especially from you."

Deep Space Nine
Quark’s Bar and Casino
Stardate 214770.1
7 October 2376, 0723 hrs

Dan Phillips stared across the table at the attractive young woman sitting with him, Ezri Dax.

"So are you going to eat," Dax asked, "or just stare at me all morning?"

"Sorry," Phillips said. "This… is just going to take some getting used to."

Dax laughed.

"What?" Phillips asked.

"Nothing," Dax said. "Benjamin said the same thing about my last host, that’s all."

"I take it he knew you as Curzon, too?" Phillips asked.

"Yeah," Dax replied. "We met when he was a freshly-minted ensign and I was a cranky old man."

"Wait," Phillips said. "You mean Benjamin Sisko?"

"That’s right," Dax said. "I wasn’t sure if you’d heard of him, since you missed out on sixty-five years, only to come back during the last year of the war on the other side of the galaxy."

"I’m still with DTI," Phillips said. "I read a report about the K-7 incident."

Dax chuckled. "Tribbles."

"Right," Phillips said. "Do you know how much paperwork is involved when someone transplants an extinct species from the past?"

"Sorry," Dax said. "Never thought about that."

"Nobody ever does," Phillips muttered. "Could’ve been worse, I guess. You could’ve brought back the mutant variety Cyrano Jones created a couple years later. He tried to make a version that didn’t reproduce, but only got bigger; turns out they still reproduced, but all the baby tribbles stayed inside the mother, giving the illusion that it just got fat instead of having bred."

"I think I missed those," Dax said. "Where did you hear about them?"

"My dad was a big fan of Kirk’s," Phillips said. "I grew up hearing about the Enterprise‘s missions. As far as anyone knows, the only specimens of that breed were killed after they showed up on the IKS G’roth."

Dax covered her face with her hands and started laughing. "I remember now!" she exclaimed. "Koloth told me about that over a case of blood wine once! He never mentioned that the second time was a batch of mutant tribbles, though! He never forgave Kirk for that."

Phillips and Dax both turned in their seats when they noticed a commotion on the Promenade. They walked outside Quark’s to see what was going on, and then saw Voyager coming in to dock through the large windows on the upper level.

"What’s going on?" Dax asked one of the nearby onlookers, a young Starfleet engineer.

"It’s Kirk!" the woman exclaimed. "Word has it that Voyager‘s brought back Kirk!" Dax and Phillips exchanged skeptical glances.

"I think I should go aboard," Phillips said. "If this is true… duty calls."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Briefing Room
Stardate 214770.9
7 October 2376, 1429 hrs

"Captain," Dan Phillips greeted as Kirk and Marcus entered the briefing room adjacent to the bridge. "Doctor."

"Lieutenant," Kirk said cautiously.

"Sir," Phillips began, "I’m aware you don’t like the Department of Temporal Investigations; neither did my father. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible."

"That’s a first," Kirk muttered as he took a seat next to Marcus near the head of the table that dominated the room.

"When you disappeared from the Enterprise-B," Phillips began, jotting notes on a PADD as he sat at the head of the table, "what do you remember?"

"I was in deflector control," Kirk said. "The bulkhead in front of me disappeared, and suddenly I was outside my old house on Alpha Centauri, chopping wood. Picard approached me a few minutes later. We debated my participation in the situation on Veridian III for a while before I finally realized that nothing in the Nexus was real, that none of it mattered. I agreed to leave with him, but part of me remained in the Nexus, since I was able to watch myself leave.

"What seemed like a few months to me passed," Kirk continued, "when I met Danielle. I wasn’t convinced I’d leave the Nexus, based on my memories of my meeting with Picard, but I agreed to try anyhow. Next thing I knew, I was on the shuttle at the same moment Danielle was beaming herself into the Nexus to get me."

"You have no memory of the events on Veridian III?" Phillips asked.

"None," Kirk said. "I’m glad, from the stories I’ve heard."

"Doctor," Phillips said, turning his head to look at Marcus, "would you give me your impression of the Nexus?"

"Time doesn’t exist there," Marcus said. "Everyone who has ever entered — and ever will enter — it is there, always has been there, and always will be there. There’s nothing physical inside; everything is in your mind."

Deep Space Nine
Quark’s Bar and Casino
Stardate 214771.3
7 October 2376, 1738 hrs

"Captain Kirk," Dr. Bashir said, extending his hand to the legendary starship captain. "Dr. Julian Bashir. It’s a pleasure to meet you again, sir."

"Again?" Kirk asked, confused.

"Time travel accident," Bashir explained. "I was on Space Station K-7 in 2262."

"Oh," Kirk said.

"Gentlebeings," said Quark as he walked over to the table occupied by Kirk, Marcus, and now Bashir, "can I get you anything?"

"I’ll have a raktajino, Quark," Bashir said.

"Synthale," Marcus said.

"The same," Kirk said, indicating his granddaughter.

"Well, I’ll be damned," an aged voice breathed from the entry to Quark’s. Kirk turned, the voice familiar.

"Bones!" Kirk exclaimed. "Spock! Scotty! It’s good to see you again!"

"Why is it," McCoy muttered, "that I’m the only one in this group who looks like he’s aged a damned bit?"

"Doctor," Spock replied, "aside from myself, you are the only one in this group who has aged."

"Eighty years and he hasn’t changed a damned bit," McCoy muttered. "And how are you, young lady? I’m pleased to finally be able to meet you in person."

"I’m fine, thank you," Marcus said. "Please, have a seat, all of you."

"So you’re David’s daughter," Montgomery Scott said, unable to stop looking at the young woman.

"That’s right," Marcus said. "I didn’t know that until 2301, though."

"Carol mentioned you to me once," McCoy said. He turned to Kirk and added, "I kept in touch with her for around ten years after we thought you’d died, Jim."

"Is she…?" Kirk asked, hopeful.

"I’m sorry, no," Marcus said sadly. I tried to find her when I got back to Earth four months ago. She died almost six months ago during the Genesis incident."

Kirk took the information in silently, then asked, "What about everyone else?"

"Well," McCoy began, "you know Chekov finally made captain just before the Enterprise-B was commissioned. He got her from Harriman seven years later. Sulu stayed on the Excelsior until he retired. Chekov stayed in and is in charge of Starfleet Exploration Command now, and Sulu was brought back during the Dominion War as head of Navigation Command. They’re on Earth now; they couldn’t get away to meet you with us, but we should be able to see them when we go back."

U.S.S. Voyager NCC-74656
Docked at Deep Space Nine
Phillips quarters
Stardate 214771.4
7 October 2376, 1823 hrs

"Therefore," Phillips dictated, concluding his report, "it is my conclusion that, the unique temporal nature of the Nexus aside, James Kirk’s entry and subsequent exits from the phenomenon have occurred on a relatively linear track and pose no danger to the integrity of the timeline." He pressed a button, ending the recording. He keyed the system to transfer the report into a text file, then send both the file and the audio recording to the offices of the Department of Temporal Investigations on Earth.

"So," came the voice of Marla Gilmore from behind him, "you really believe that?"

"Huh?" Phillips jumped, startled. "Of course," he continued after regaining his composure. "How long have you been standing there?"

"A couple minutes," Gilmore admitted, leaning against the doorway. "Long enough to hear more about temporal mechanics than most cadets do in a semester."

"Well," Phillips said, "it is my job, and I do enjoy it."

"I can see that," Gilmore said. "So, are you ready yet?"

"Ready for what?" Phillips asked.

"Ready for our date," Gilmore said. "We’re supposed to be having dinner at one of the restaurants on DS9, remember?"

"I’m sorry!" Phillips exclaimed. "I got so caught up with this report, I completely forgot!"

"You’re only twenty minutes late," Gilmore smirked. "I’ll let it slide… this time."

end