I actually wrote this about a month ago, but because I was about to move out of home, I scrawled it out onto paper, congratulating myself on avoiding all that messy business with disks.  And promptly left it behind.  Still, better late than never, right?

Oh yeah -- if you've come to this story via the JetC Fanfic Index, be warned.  This is listed there as being PG-13, but only because the alternative is NC-17.  In fact, this contains violence, adult themes and a touch of coarse language.

***

The final question on the paper asks me to describe a life-changing event.  I imagine the examiners, face-less admirals, looking forward to my account of Voyager's homecoming.  The captain's daughter, watching the benevolent, avuncular admiralty welcome Voyager home.

Bullshit.  I don't want to join Starfleet for the admiralty. Not even Uncle Paris, who I'll admit has always treated my father well.  I want to join Starfleet to right a wrong, to deliver justice.

I want to find my mother.

So I'm not going to give them the life-changing event they expect from me.  I owe them -- my mother and my father, and all the other families destroyed over the years in some distant end of the galaxy -- I owe all of them more than a glossy, happy story.

***

I was the captain's daughter, and no one ever let me forget it.  No other child was allowed to toddle up to the bridge unescorted and demand to see the captain.  Lieutenant Ferris, ostensibly responsible for me when my parents were on duty, was no match for me.  I remember my father looking down at me once and saying, "She's got her mother's strength of will, there's no doubt about that."  And my mother laughed and said something like, "But you got me to change my mind, didn't you?"  And he put his arms around her and held her tight.  I was put to bed early that night.

My parents adored me, and I adored them.  Daddy once told me that my mother was ambivalent about her pregnancy, and it wasn't until my birth that she reconciled herself to motherhood.  But she'd spend hours standing beside my crib watching me sleep.  As I got older I'd spend hours in her ready room, sitting in her lap as she worked.  We were a happy family.

This ended when I was four years old.

We had been warned about the Demarri before we entered their space, hushed warnings about raids, abductions and genetic experiments.  Breeding programs.  Captains being taken from their ships. The Brenaka, the source of these whispers, sold us cloaking technology.  They said that they felt an obligation to protect anyone who entered Demarri space.

They lied.

I was on the bridge when the Demarri attacked.  We had thought we were safe.  I remember screaming as Ensign Wilcox exploded before me, his face terrified in those final moments.  My mother grabbed me and handed me to Daddy, screaming at Seven to fudge the computer records.  She kneeled down beside Ensign Wilcox's body and removed her pips, putting them on the ensign.  She left only one on her collar.

"What's Mommy doing?"  I asked Daddy, but he was shouting about evasive manoeuvres and defence sequences.

"They have boarded the ship," called Tuvok, and even he sounded scared.  Daddy handed me to Neelix and ran to the weapons locker.  Everyone on the bridge grabbed a rifle.

"Split up," said Mommy, hold them off for as long as you can."  She took a deep breath.  "And remember -- the captain died in the first barragee."

She climbed into a Jeffries tube.  "Mommy!" I screamed, but she only glanced back for a second.

"Neelix -- get her off the bridge."  By the time I realised that Daddy was talking about me, we were already in the turbolift.

I don't know what happened after that.  I remember hiding, but I don't recall where,  I remember being found -- the flash of light, the Demarri soldiier ordering us out -- but I have no recollection of the march down to Cargo Bay 1.  My next memory is the relief in Daddy's eyes as he saw that I was okay.

He looked dreadful -- bruised, bleeding from a cut on his forehead and suffering what looked like phaser burns on one leg -- but he was defiant as the Demarri general pulled him to his feet.

"Where is the vessel's captain?" the General demanded.

"Our captain died in your first barrage," Daddy answered.

The general hit Daddy with an armoured fist.  "You lie.  That one --" he pointed, and for the first time I noticed the Brenaka who'd sold us the cloaking device -- "That one has described your captain.  The dead one is male.  The captain is not."

Daddy opened his mouth, but he was distracted by a Demarri soldier.  The soldier was dragging a struggling woman behind him.  Mommy.

The general turned to the Brenaka, who nodded, but I don't think that Daddy saw that.  He and Mommy were staring as if there were nothing in the universe but each other.

The moment ended when the general grabbed my mother.

"You will come with us.  You ship will not be destroyed.  Your crew will live."

Mommy stared up at him.  "No."

The general looked like he was going to enjoy this.  "Then I will kill your crew."  He gestured to a soldier, who stepped forward.  He held a disruptor to Naomi Wildman's head.  "Kill her," ordered the general.  An anguished cry came from Samantha Wildman's throat.

"Wait."

Mommy's voice was soft, but her shoulders had slumped and something had gone out of her.

"I'll go," she whispered.

She looked over at Daddy, and then me.  Neelix passed me over to Daddy, who turned me around so that I could see her.  His hand were shaking and for a moment I thought he was going to drop me.

"You are coming willingly," said the general.  "You crew will not mount a rescue attempt.  You will not attempt to escape.  In return you will be well treated."

The general turned to Daddy.  "Do you agree to these terms?"

Daddy looked at Mommy, who nodded slightly.  "Yes," he whispered.

The general inclined his head and the Demarri troops began to withdraw.

I could feel Daddy's tension, his pain, and I echoed it.  Why were they taking my mother away?  Why?

I twisted in Daddy's arms and called out, "Mommy?  Mommy, don't go!"

My mother was almost out of the doorway.  At the sound of my voice she froze and began to turn around, but the soldiers pulled her away.

It was the last time I ever saw her.

Life returned to a parody of normality.  We mounted no rescue attempt -- even if we had known where to search, we lacked the resources to attack the Demarri.  Daddy assumed command.  In his few spare hours he lavished attention on me in a futile attempt to combat his own guilt.

When I was eight he told me that Mommy had been pregnant when they took her.

Shortly after my twelfth birthday, Voyager arrived home.  I spent the next six years working to enter Starfleet Academy.  To ensure that his can't happen again and to rescue the victims.

To bring my mother back.

END

NOTES: Sorry to non-Americans about the use of the American "Mommy" -- I tried using the 'normal' "Mummy", but it just sounded stupid coming from characters who are supposed to have American accents.

There may be a sequel from this.  My original idea involved killing Janeway (it was a very different story in some ways -- the only thing it *really* had in common with this one is Chakotay holding the daughter while Janeway is held hostage out the front).  I changed that to make room for a sequel if I ever get time.

Flowers and chocolates and feedback are always welcome: elizabeth_barr@yahoo.com.au

Copyright © 2000 Elizabeth M Barr

Star Trek and Star Trek Voyager are registered trademarks of Paramount Pictures.  No profit is derived from this story.