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2370
Bashir nearly tripped over his own feet rushing back to Sickbay. He was supposed to be back on duty 5 minutes ago, for an consultation appointment two crewmembers - a married couple - had scheduled, but he’d become so caught up in his conversation with Garak that he’d lost track of the time. Sure enough, when he finally arrived, the two of them were waiting outside the door of his office.
“Ensign Wildman, Ensign Greskrendtregk, my sincerest apologies,” he said, hurrying over and entering his access code. “Please, go on and have a seat.”
Fumbling to find the appropriate PADDs, Bashir hoped he didn’t look too disheveled; he had to inspire confidence in his abilities as a doctor, especially in cases like this. Finally he found the relevant information and laid it out on his desk. “You’d previously inquired about hoping to conceive a child.”
“Yes,” Ensign Wildman replied, taking hold of her husband’s hand. “We know that Human-Ktarian conception is possible, but there are certain… complications with the process. We don’t know anyone who’s personally gone through this, so we’d like a professional medical evaluation of our chances, so to speak.”
Bashir nodded. “There are a couple of recorded cases of Human-Ktarian procreation. However, all of them involved a Ktarian woman carrying the child. With you two, it would be uncharted territory.”
“Would it be safe for Samantha?” Greskrendtregk asked suddenly. “Ktarian ridges have been known to cause problems during birth, even for Ktarian women whose reproductive systems are designed to deal with them. Isn’t is a pretty big risk?"
"There are always risks involved in childbirth, especially with mixed species children,” Bashir said. “However, with a competent physician on hand, the chances of injury or death to either mother or child are quite minimal. A standard birth isn’t the only option; it’s quite possible that a cesarean section could be a better alternative. We would have to wait and see what seems best if and when the time comes. My greater concern would be the pregnancy itself. Based on the few previous cases, the gestation period of Human-Ktarian children is about 15 months. Being pregnant for that long would likely be a considerable stress on the human body, and close medical supervision would be necessary. But so long as she gets whatever care she needs, I don’t believe there would be significant risk to her health.”
“You said ‘if and when’ the time comes,” Wildman said cautiously. “Does that mean there’s a decent chance of conception being impossible?”
Bashir suppressed a sigh. He’d taken classes at the Academy to prepare him for situations like this, but it was much harder with people he knew. “Given the unique nature if your situation and the rarity of Human-Ktarian children in general, it’s difficult to say. There are various methods to increase fertility, but I would have to run some tests to determine which ones would be most viable. And even if they work, it can sometimes take a while: months, even years.” He paused. He didn’t want to get their hopes up unnecessarily, but he also didn’t want to leave them feeling hopeless. He decided to just give them his most honest opinion. “However, looking at the research I’ve done so far, I would say your chances are fairly good.”
When their faces lit up, Bashir allowed himself a small smile.
2371
It was moments like these that were Sisko’s least favorite part of being in command. He’d been dreading this particular conversation for the better part of the day, but he knew it couldn’t be put off; it was for the best if the news came from him, in private, not through the newsfeed or crew gossip.
He was waiting in his office, trying to keep the tension coiled through his body out of his face, when the door chimed. He opened it wordlessly.
“Commander Sisko, you asked to see me?” The voice was hesitant. Greskrendtregk took two cautious steps into the room, but went no farther.
Sisko had to make a distinct effort to keep his face neutral. According to Dax, the Ktarian man was one of the kindest, gentlest souls on the station in addition to being one of her best research assistants. Knowing that just made what he had to do even harder. “Ensign Greskrendtregk, please, sit down.”
As the other man carefully lowered himself into the chair waiting in front of Sisko’s desk, the commander took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
“It’s Samantha, isn’t it,” Greskrendtregk said instantly, his voice soft and his eyes dropping down to the floor.
“Yes. Starfleet lost contact with Voyager over a week ago. Search parties were sent to the Badlands, but they couldn’t find any piece of the ship or her crew. They’ve officially been declared missing in action; however, Starfleet Command is still attempting a search.”
“What are the chances of them being found?”
“Unfortunately, we simply don’t know. It’s almost as if the ship simply vanished, and the Maquis are disavowing all knowledge of their whereabouts. For all we know they could turn up again tomorrow. I’ll do my best to keep you informed."
Greskendtregk looked up, his eyes clearly wet. "Thank you, Commander.”
“It’s no problem, Ensign. Feel free to stay in here as long as you need, and if you would like some time off, simply ask.” Sisko paused, as the man across from him once again broke contact. “I’m sorry.”
2373
The message arrived after a particularly long day dealing with the aftermath of the Tribble infestation. Greskrendtregk had replicated a bowl of his favorite stew, an old recipe from the southern islands of Ktaris, and was staring blankly around their quarters - because he still thought of them as theirs and not his - which still seemed too large, too empty. He’d left all of Samantha’s decorations and possessions in place, waiting patiently for their owner to return and reclaim them.
When he saw the official communication from Starfleet, his first thought was that maybe they’d found them.
When he read We regret to inform you he had to resist the urge to throw his bowl against the screen.
Voyager had been declared officially lost. He numbly read through the condolences. There wouldn’t be any sort of official ceremony - with a war on and ships being destroyed by the Jem'hadar on a regular basis, there was no time to mourn a long-gone ship.
The next day, Major Kira received a request from Ensign Greskrendtregk for reassignment to single quarters.
2374
It had been a draining couple of weeks, between Dukat’s escape, Morn’s faked death, and the odd dream sent to him by the Prophets. The chance to deliver good news was something that was rare these days.
So Sisko broke out into his biggest smile in a long time when he received the message from Starfleet Command. “Lieutenant Greskrendtregk to my office immediately,” he commed.
He reviewed the finer points of the information as he waited, wanting to make sure he had everything right. The news seemed too good to be true, almost miraculous, though he supposed they’d seen their fair share of miracles lately.
When the Ktarian entered the room, Sisko toned down his smile, trying to be professional. “Voyager,” he said as soon as the other man had sat down, “it’s still out there.”
“What?”
“Two days ago, the USS Prometheus received a data transmission from the Delta Quadrant containing a Mark One Emergency Medical Hologram. Voyager was apparently pulled into the Delta Quadrant at a location approximately 70,000 lightyears from Earth. They found an alien relay network that allowed them to send their EMH to the Alpha Quadrant to inform Starfleet of their situation.”
“Can we communicate with them?” Greskrendtregk asked, his eyes still wide with shock.
“Unfortunately, it seems that the network was somehow disabled shortly after the EMH returned to Voyager. Starfleet Command is working on assembling a team to look into ways to reestablish communication, and perhaps even bring the ship home.”
“But Samantha, she’s…”
“The EMH reported on the casualties they’d received; your wife is fine.” Sisko paused. “And there’s more.”
“More?”
“There’s a child aboard Voyager, a young girl. Her name is Naomi Wildman.”
2376
Greskrendtregk read through the PADD Commander Kira had given him for the fourth consecutive time that night. He still could barely believe it - the Pathfinder project had been successful, and he was going to have a chance to send a message to Samantha. Because of the limited space in the data stream, it had to be text only and couldn’t be much longer than a page or two, but it was the first opportunity he’d had to speak with his wife in five years. And his first ever opportunity to speak with his daughter.
They would even be able to write back.
After the initial shock wore off, his mind began racing, thinking of what he should say. All the conversations he’d had with her in his head over the years came rushing back to the forefront - news about the station, the war, updates on their families, telling her about his promotion, endless questions about Naomi. He supposed he should contact his in-laws as well and include their regards; as much as he wanted to be able to use every possible word of the letter himself, he knew Samantha would be missing her parents.
He only had 4 days to compose the letter. He hoped it would be enough.
—
The response came 32 days later.
He’d jumped out of bed faster than he ever thought possible when his comm went off at 0300. Sure enough, there was a message from Starfleet’s Communications Research Center.He hastily skimmed the information from Commander Harkins, which outlined the submission deadline and data limits for the next transmission, before opening the attachment that contained Samantha’s letter.
Gres. He could hear her voice in his head as he read that first word, as clear as it had been five years ago.
The letter was brief, but he hung onto every word. She described Naomi in detail - what she looked like, her love of science, the Talaxian cook who was her godfather, the crewmembers who helped look after her, her dreams of becoming a starship captain. She sent her best wishes to her parents and some other friends on Earth and on the station (there was a slight sinking feeling in his stomach when he realized that some of them had died in the war. He’d have to tell her in the next letter.)
Naomi and I celebrated the Ularian New Year last month. Neelix made his best attempt at kulma rolls - they were good, but not nearly as good as yours. Greskrendtregk smiled at the mention of the New Year, a traditional celebration from his home country on Ktaris and his favorite holiday. I’ve been trying to teach her Ktari; she seems to have such a knack for it that she might be better than me soon.
I think about you every day. I’ll never be able to express how much it means to me that you’re waiting for us. Naomi and I have nothing but confidence that Captain Janeway will be able to get us home and we can finally be together as a family.
I love you.
2378 (Part 1)
“Commander Kira to Lieutenant Greskrendtregk, please come to my office. There’s an encrypted comm from a Lieutenant Barclay who wishes to speak with you.”
Greskrendtregk put down his data analysis and nearly ran to the nearest turbolift. He’d met Barclay a few times in his investigations into the Pathfinder project, and a call from him could only mean news from Voyager.
“I’ll leave you alone,” Kira said, stepping out of her office as he arrived. “He wouldn’t tell me what he was calling about, but I think it’s good news.”
“Lieutenant Barclay,” he said, stepping into the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Please, call me Reg,” the other man replied. “I have great news for you, Gres. You’re going to be able to talk to your wife.”
The Ktarian man’s eyes widened. “You mean actually talk? In real time?”
“Yes. We’ve managed to establish a regular two-way communication with Voyager for 11 minutes every day. Each crewmember has been allotted 3 minutes of comm time to communicate with individuals of their choosing in the Alpha Quadrant. Ensign Wildman has chosen to contact you.”
“When?” Greskrendtregk asked, excitement creeping into his voice.
“Ensign Wildman’s assigned time is on Stardate 54746 at 0923. You’ll need to establish a comm link with our computer at 0900 that day so we can patch you through using the MIDAS Array when the time comes. All the necessary information will be sent to you within the next 2 days.” Barclay stammered through the information in his usual way, but his elation was obvious.
“Thank you,” Greskrendtregk said, his voice quiet and breathless. “Really, thank you. This is amazing.” He could hardly believe it; in 9 days he would be talking to his wife and seeing his daughter’s face for the first time.
“We’re just doing our jobs. I know this is a lot to take in, but I’m afraid I have several other families I need to contact. Best of luck, Gres.”
Greskrendtregk stood silently for what could have been a minute, or could have been 5. He eventually walked out of the office, still slightly dazed, not completely sure if this was really happening. In his distracted state, he nearly ran into Kira on his way back through Ops.
“You were right, Commander,” he said, his face breaking out into a smile. “It was good news.”
—
He barely slept the night before, pacing his quarters in anticipation instead. At 0900 on the dot he established the comm link with Starfleet Communications and waited, the bowl of oatmeal he’d replicated growing cold on the table beside him. He was simply too nervous to eat.
At 0922, Reg’s face appeared on his comm screen. For a brief moment, he worried that something might have gone wrong, that there were subspace distortions or a spacial anomaly that would keep him from talking to Samantha and Naomi. But Reg seemed calm and happy, which was enough reassurance for him - Barclay might have had many talents, but hiding what he was feeling was definitely not one of them.
“I’m just making sure you’re ready for the call. The current one should be ending in approximately 30 seconds, at which point there will be a 10 second break before we patch you through. Any questions?”
Greskrendtregk just shook his head in response.
“That’s good. Make the best of it, Gres.”
28 seconds later, the screen came to life again, this time showing Samantha. The moment she saw him, his favorite smile broke out across her face, the one he always said could end wars and cure Iverson’s disease.
“Gres,” she said, as a couple of tears welled up in her eyes, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
She bent down, and when she reappeared on the screen his words caught in his throat. She was holding a little girl, with her mother’s blonde hair and her father’s forehead spikes. His daughter.
“Naomi…” he said, feeling tears run down his face.
“Hi, Dad,” she said, and he couldn’t help but notice that the words came out oddly, like she wasn’t used to saying them. Because she wasn’t used to saying them, he thought.
“Your mother tells me you’re turning into quite the young officer.”
Her face brightened. “Tuvok has been teaching me about ship security protocols. He let me carry a phaser and everything.”
Samantha laughed when she saw his face shift to alarm. “Don’t worry, the power cell had been removed. Though she has been bugging me to let her have shooting lessons ever since, says it’s a matter of ship security.”
Greskrendtregk smiled as he watched Naomi argue the importance of being capable of self-defense in case of emergencies. She was just like Samantha had described her - energetic, outspoken, independent. And she seemed happy.
“90 seconds remaining,” a voice coming from off the screen said.
“Naomi, why don’t you give me some time alone with your father,” Samantha said. “Say goodbye.”
“Bye Dad,” she said, pausing before adding. “Ge yuraki cov."
He felt new tears start falling at that. "I love you too, sweatheart. I’ll see you again in a couple months.” After she had gone, he said to Samantha. “You were right, her Ktari really is excellent.”
“She’s a bright girl. Takes after her father that way - her memory is excellent.”
“She’s grown up so fast. I know Ktari children have accelerated growth compared to humans, but seeing her was just… I feel like I’ve missed so much.”
Samantha’s smile fell a bit. “I know. It’s been hard for me too. I’ve been trying to teach her about your culture, give her a sort of connection but it isn’t the same as raising her together.” She sighed. “But the rest of the crew has been great in helping me with her. I guess it really does take a village.”
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Overall, it’s been okay, considering the circumstances. There have been times where it’s been tense, though. I’m always worried about Naomi, but I have to trust the Captain and the crew. We protect her.” She smiled again, smaller this time. “I was worried about you for the longest time, though. When I heard we were at war with the Dominion… well, I suppose it hasn’t been the easiest time for you either.”
“I suppose it hasn’t. We lost a lot of good people.” He paused. “But it’s been so amazing seeing you again, Sam. Really. There were times when I never thought I’d ever see you again, that you were just gone and I’d never find out what happened. I love you so much.”
“10 seconds remaining.”
“I love you too, Gres. And so does Naomi, she just isn’t sure how to show it. I’ll see you-”
The screen went black.
2378 (Part 2)
Greskrendtregk had gotten on the first possible transport to Earth when he got the news. He’d almost thought he’d been dreaming at first, when Ensign Gao had urgently called him over to look at the newsfeed, but everything was real.
Voyager was home.
The moment his shuttle touched down in San Francisco, he raced towards Starfleet Headquarters as fast as he could. While they were still being debriefed, Voyager’s crew was being housed in guest quarters usually reserved for visiting scientists, ambassadors, and politicians. In order to protect them from the press, any and all visitors had to be on an official list given by the crew and approved by the admiralty.He had to go through 4 different security checks before being allowed inside.
Samantha and Naomi were staying on the third floor. Instead of waiting for a turbolift, he nearly flew up the stairs. He took a moment to catch his breath and compose himself before heading to their door.
Less than 10 seconds probably passed between when he chimed and when the door opened, but each one felt like an eternity. Finally, the door slid open, and he and Samantha nearly knocked each other over in their embrace. They stood wordlessly for several moments, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Sam,” he said breathlessly, as they finally broke apart. “I almost can’t believe this.”
“Me either.”
They stared at each other for a few more seconds, before he saw who was sitting on the couch.
“Naomi,” he whispered, rushing over to hug his daughter for the first time. He pressed their forehead spikes together, a traditional Ktarian show of affection. “You look so beautiful.” He let go of her and turned back to Samantha, tears running down his face as he let out a laugh. “I still remember when I first told Doctor Bashir about her. He was so excited.”
Samantha smiled. “He always was. God, we first consulted with him what, 8 years ago?’
"Yes. And this is worth every moment of those years. Every single one.”