A/N: This is set between "Author, Author" and "Homestead."

Not only is this another missing scene that should have been in the show (if not onscreen, then at least mentioned), but if the show had to forget about this scenario, Christie Golden could have remembered it when she wrote "Homecoming." But as anyone who has read that book knows, Golden clearly didn't watch Season 7.

I don't own "Voyager."

"I'm ready." Naomi said, tugging on her fuzzy orange sweater and hastily stepping into her shoes. "Mom? We going?"

Samantha Wildman exited the bedroom, wiping one eye. "Yeah," she sniffed. "Let's go."

Naomi looked away. She didn't like watching her mother cry. It had happened far more frequently over the course of her life than she would have liked it to.

Both of them practically ran to Astrometrics. This was the first time in her entire life that Naomi would speak to her father. Voyager had been in contact with Earth for several months now, via the Pathfinder Project, but this was the first time that crewmembers were able to speak to family members. Time was limited, for reasons too complex for Naomi to understand, and they would only have eleven minutes to speak to Greskrendtregk. Naomi had practically rehearsed what she was going to tell her father. It had been a project, figuring out how to condense her entire life's story into four minutes (time had to be left for hello, goodbye, and her parents' sides of the conversation).

To say that Naomi was nervous would have been an understatement. Up until now her father had been a shadow, a piece of history, a fantasy. She'd gotten to know him through stories from her mother; holo-snapshots; her parents' wedding recording; the letter he'd sent them three years ago, via the Hirogen array; and her obsession with his home planet of Ktaris. Once, long ago, Sam had offered to create a hologram of Naomi's father, so she could "meet" him on the holodeck, but she'd declined. It didn't feel right. And her mother agreed.

When they entered Astrometrics, Seven of Nine stood at a consol, just out of view from the screen. Neelxi was on the other side of the room, drubbing his fingers together.

"Sam," the Talaxian stammered. "Are you sure you don't want to do this alone? This is a very big event for you two."

Sam urged, "For all we know, something might happen to the link, and this is the only time we'll get to speak to him. I want Greskrendtregk to meet you. And he wants to meet you."

Though this was the first time the crew was speaking to their relatives "in person," they had been exchanging letters for several weeks. Naomi's father had a good idea, already, of what his daughter's life had been like so far, and he knew about Neelix.

Sam, Naomi and Neelix finally noticed Seven watching them expectantly. "The link is ready," she said.

"So are we." Sam looked at Naomi. "Right?"

Naomi swallowed and nodded.

Seven activated the link.

Greskrendtregk appeared at a table in his quarters on Deep Space Nine, watching the link from a desktop monitor. For the most part, he'd looked just as he had in the photographs and wedding recording. A full-blooded Ktarian, he had reptilian yellow eyes, framed by layered sockets. The horns that ran down his forehead protruded from a crest that cut from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. His hair was red, like Naomi's, but flecked with gray. He also appeared more heavy-set than he had in the pictures.

"Sam," his gold eyes moved from his wife to his daughter. "Naomi."

His voice sounded exactly as it did in the wedding recording. Although, Naomi thought, it might be being distorted by the transmission, much as recordings tended to distort one's voice. It didn't sound too much different from a human's, but it was quite different from her mother's. While her mother's voice was soft, her father's was more clear and lively, like Naomi's.

Naomi clenched the railing in front of her. "Dad."

His yellow eyes moved up and down her. "You're almost grown up."

"She's got a ways to go yet," Samantha assured him.

Greskrendtregk cleared his throat. "Well, we've got eleven minutes. I can't properly express in words, how much I've missed you two."

Sam replied, "Neither can we." Timidly, she added, "Nothing that's happened…nothing could make it less…painful, being away from you, Gresk."

Naomi had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what her mother was talking about. She'd heard rumors about her mother's secret affair with Joe Carrey, and observed the two carefully enough to see the merit in those rumors. The look her father was giving her mother seemed like the face of a husband who knew, and who wasn't angry. (At least not anymore.) Naomi was positive her mother would never have cheated under normal circumstances; but Voyager's situation was anything but normal.

"I know," Greskrendtregk said finally. His gold eyes moved behind Sam and Naomi. "You must be Neelix. I wish I had time to thank you properly. I owe you far more than a life-debt, since you've essentially raised my daughter in my absence."

The Talaxian shook his head. "I-It's nothing, really."

Greskrendtregk smiled, but didn't have any more time to spare with Neelix. Returning his gaze to Naomi and Sam, he said, "I still read your letters, over and over. All of them."

Immediately after the incident with the Hirogen Array, Naomi and Sam had both composed letters to home, even though they knew it would be decades before the transmissions ever reached the Alpha Quadrant. Thanks to the Pathfinder, however, they'd now been able to send copies of those letters to Greskrendtregk and other family members, in a timely manner, along with additional updates.

"I still have yours," Naomi said. "that you sent me three years ago. I read it almost every night, before going to bed."

"I didn't even know I had a child," Greskrendtregk was reminiscing now. "When your hologram doctor dropped by the Alpha Quadrant, and gave Starfleet his brief report on Voyager, he mentioned the first child born aboard by name. Colonel Kira found out, and called me to her ready room to tell me personally."

Naomi, of course, already knew all of this, from her father's first letter.

"But you're not actually an officer on DS9," Naomi asked, "are you?"

"No. I'm just a civilian. But I helped out in the Dominion War effort. I stopped making clothes for a while and helped with building and repairing ships and weapons. Nothing complex, just menial tasks. No, it's a big space station, I haven't gotten to know most of the senior officers here. Other than Quark and Counselor Dax."

"Quark?" Sam wrinkled her nose.

"I know, we used to hate that Ferengi. But since you vanished I've been drinking away a lot of my sorrows at Quark's pub. I made some lifelong friends there, you'll have to meet them. I think you'd like Morn. He seems antisocial, but once he opens up he's great fun."

"Did you say you knew Dax?" Sam asked curiously. "She's a joined Trill, isn't she?"

"And an incomparable counselor. I began sessions with her after I learned about Naomi, and Voyager still being out there. But enough about me! What have you two been up to?"

Sam and Naomi exchanged a glance.

"A lot," Sam replied.

"Seven helped me put together a list of events on Voyager that had the most impact on me," Naomi said, catching Seven's eye.

"That would be the famous Seven of Nine?" Greskrendtregk craned his neck, trying to see.

Beneath the Borg professionalism, Naomi could see Seven's nervousness as she stepped into Greskrendtregk's view, placing her hands behind her back. "Hello," she said politely, and awkwardly.

"No one's going to believe this!" the Ktarian said quietly. He straightened in his seat. "Seven of Nine, to say it's an honor to meet you, and to know you've been helping to raise my daughter, would be the understatement of the eon. Since time's short I'll get back to my wife and daughter, but I just have to tell you, thank you. For everything."

Greskrendtregk not only knew about the former drone's friendship with Naomi, but like everyone else in the Alpha Quadrant, he'd heard of the numerous times Seven of Nine had helped rescue Voyager and the galaxy.

Seven dipped her head. "You're welcome. Your gratitude is appreciated."

"Alright Naomi," Greskrendtregk turned back to his daughter. "Better make this quick; I'll bet it's a long list."

"We managed to condense it," Naomi assured him. "Okay. Um, well, there was that incident with the giant germs, when I was a toddler, that gave me this recurring nightmare about the replicator when I was a kid. And I think it's also why I don't like buzzing insects. Um, my first two times outside were when aliens took over the ship, and after that Mom started letting me use the holodeck. When I was two, I found out what it's like to be a full human, and all different kinds of Ktarians, when we all got experimented on by invisible transvestite fish-people."

Her father frowned in confusion, but Naomi sped on.

"And then we got your first letter... Oh! And more aliens invaded our dreams, around that same time! I was dreaming about meeting you, and you were just like you are now, but skinner and younger, and then you turned into an alien who looked like Flotter and Treevis's mutant baby, and it was super-creepy because you and Mom were kissing on the couch and she was still kissing him. Oh and the World War II program! The senior officers were Americans and French Resistance fighters, and Mom and me were Jews hiding in Neeilx's attic!"

"Well," Neelix's eyes rolled heavenward. "Until I got 'killed' and reborn as a Klingon!"

"Mom and I were on our own after that," Naomi could feel the excitement of that adventure. "Just two fugitives hiding in an attic, with our hider now dead! We had to—" She bit her lip. "Mmmm, I wish I had time to tell you the whole thing! It gave me an idea for a story I wrote and re-wrote a few times. I'll mail the latest version to you!"

"I'd love that." Greskrendtregk smiled. "You write many stories Naomi?"

"A few. They're not very good. I'm more into drawing."

"So I see."

Greskrendtregk looked up at something, out of their line of sight. Then his hands came around the screen, as he turned his monitor, to face a new angle of his quarters. Framed on the wall was one of the pictures Naomi had mailed him, a family portrait of all three of them, painted with watercolors. On a shelf just below it were two photos Samantha had sent him: one of her holding Naomi as a baby, and a recent one of the two of them posing together in their quarters. He brought the camera back around.

"Anything after World War II?" he asked conversationally.

"Oh hell yeah." Naomi was finally at an age where she could get away with mild cursing in front of adults. "The biggest thing, I was just getting to, was the Pitcher Plant! That was when all the grown-ups except Seven thought we'd found a wormhole home. But it was really this aliens that wanted to eat us!"

Samantha added, "That's the creature that caused me to hallucinate our reunion."

Her father apparently remembered this from one of Sam's letters. Naomi herself had heard plenty about her mother's dream during the "Pitcher Plant's" attack, or at least the family-friendly parts.

"Aaah, that thing! Yes I remember."

"And after the Pitcher Plant," Naomi continued, "there was the time Seven got kidnapped by the Borg Queen, and then the Equinox—well, you probably just wanted to know the things we were really involved in." Something else occurred to Naomi. "Just a few months ago, the whole crew got captured by aliens and given false memories."

"We thought we were poor immigrants from Earth," Sam leaned on the railing, as she dug up the false memory. "I was a widow, working two jobs to keep food on the table. And Naomi worked part-time at the plant, to help me out. You'd have been proud of her Gresk."

Naomi made a face. "It was just scrubbing plasma and serving food!"

"On Earth, people your age aren't even allowed to work!" her mother complimented her. "Not even part time!"

Seven warned, "You have one minute and seventeen seconds remaining."

Naomi quickly turned back to her father. "Dad, what about you? Anything big happen to you in the last seven years? During the Dominion War, or anything?"

It was the first time, she realized, that she'd actually called him "Dad" in person. Her father noticed this, and took a moment to answer.

"I've managed to keep out of trouble, for the most part. I'm certain I'd have done more to help in the war, under different circumstances. But I've been determined to keep myself alive long enough to see you two return home. I probably haven't helped the Quadrant as much as I should have."

"We don't want a war hero," Sam exclaimed. "We just want a husband and father waiting for us, when Voyager docks back on Deep Space Nine!"

Whenever that will be, Naomi could hear them all silently finish.

"I did have a few entanglements with the Maquis," Greskrendtregk admitted.

Naomi remembered Seven telling her, long ago, that the Ktarians sympathized with the Maquis.

"I know Captain Sisko's wife, Kasidy Yates. She spent some time in prison for helping the Maquis." Greskrendtregk almost said something more, but stopped himself. If he'd done anything to help the Maquis, he wasn't going to admit it over a monitored transmission. "I've also made friends with a few survivors, who know people on Captain Chakotay's ship."

"Commander," Naomi corrected him.

Her father smiled again. "Whatever."

Seven warned, "Thirty seconds."

"I'll send you that story Dad," Naomi said quickly. "And some more pictures! I have one of some Klingons who stayed with us a few weeks ago—"

"Klingons? In the Delta Quadrant?"

"Long story," Sam sighed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Naomi noticed Neelix grinning to himself, as if dwelling on some fond memory. She knew what he was thinking about, and did everything in her power to purge it from her memory. Neelix was like a second father to her, and so naturally, the thought of him sleeping with anyone, much less a kinky Klingon woman, was slightly nauseating.

Changing the subject for herself, Naomi continued, "And I'll take some more photos to send you!"

"I've got some gifts for you too, when you get back to the Alpha Quadrant. I made you a couple scarves, and a hat. They're one size fits all…"

Sam was looking at Seven. Naomi followed her mother's gaze, and saw the former drone giving them a hard, reluctant stare.

"Time's up?" Greskrendtregk asked.

When Seven nodded, Sam turned back to the screen. "Gresk, I, I wish I'd had time to say more."

"We've had years to talk to each other." Her husband replied. "But I only had eleven minutes to talk to our daughter."

"We'll talk again," Naomi assured him. "Captain Janeway will get us home. She's beaten the Borg and scared Fear itself, she can get Voyager home!"

Her mother quickly placed her arm around her, almost grabbing her. "We love you, Greskrendtregk."

Naomi wanted to confirm this verbally, but her voice had suddenly stopped working. So she just stared at her father.

"I love you both," he replied.

With a nod of approval from Sam, Seven ended the transmission.

"Of course," Neelix pointed out to Samantha, "that was only Naomi's eleven minutes. Yours is coming up in just another week Sam, so you'll get to speak with him again."

Naomi smiled weakly. It was convenient, having a family member aboard to share these communication tickets with. The Delaney twins were doubtless enjoying the same advantage.

"Well," Sam was struggling to keep her voice from cracking. "I'd better get a nap in before my shift. Do you want to go home Naomi, or…?"

"I'll stick around here with Seven and Neelix, if it's okay," Naomi shrugged.

Sam smiled tightly and nodded. "Alright."

Naomi looked away as her mother hurried out of Astrometrics, because she knew she was crying again.

"Naomi?" Neelix asked. "Are you okay?"

Naomi nodded, her eyes perfectly dry. "Why aren't I crying?" she wondered aloud. "Do Ktarians react differently to these things, or am I just a sociopath?"

"You're not a sociopath!" Neelix assured her. "You're probably not crying because you've never met your father before. You didn't lose him before like your mother did. I mean, of course you lost him in a sense, but you didn't actually—"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Naomi noticed Seven looking pensive. "Seven? Don't feel bad about the link. With a hundred and fifty people aboard—"

"It's not that." Seven said slowly. "I," her blue eyes met Naomi's. "I envy you, Naomi. And this entire crew. For being able to reconnect with their relatives."

Naomi was surprised, and felt slightly guilty, to realize that she'd completely forgotten about Seven's situation. The former drone had no immediate family, anywhere. Well, except as drones, lost in the millions of the Collective's victims.

"You haven't seen your parents since you were Naomi's age," Neelix remembered.

Seven turned away, pretending to work at her consol. "I saw my father a little over a year ago, at the Queen's transwarp hub."

Naomi swallowed. She knew this story. Seven had told her a few months ago, during a particularly emotional game of kadis-kot. Looking at Neelix, and seeing his face, Naomi could tell that he'd heard this too, and was now kicking himself for forgetting it. Of course Neelix would know, being one of Voyager's unofficial counselors alongside Chakotay.

To Naomi, that confession of Seven's had happened ages ago, in an earlier stage of her childhood. But for a full-blooded human like Seven, it must have been a painfully recent memory. Naomi wanted to say something helpful, but could think of no other positives to bring up except Seven's Aunt Irene. The only other option was to tactlessly change the subject. Naomi decided to go for something in between.

"If it's okay Seven," she said carefully. "I'd maybe like to meet your Aunt Irene, next time you talk to her."

The former drone's eyes met Naomi's, and then came that rare smile that only Seven's closest friends got to see. "I've told my aunt about our friendship. I believe she would be honored to meet you, Naomi."

A/N: Naomi's father was never shown, nor were any Ktarians other than Etana Jol in "Star Trek: The Next Generation." So I made up Greskrendtregk's appearance, voice and mannerisms. The idea of Greskrendtregk being a tailor is something I read on Memory Alpha; it is canon that he lives on Deep Space Nine, and in an episode of either DS9 or TNG, someone mentions a Ktarian tailor on the space station.

Special thanks to Memory Alpha, and Chrissie's Transcripts Site, for information needed to write this story.

If you enjoyed this, I'll recommend two other Naomi-centered stories of mine: "Coping Mechanisms," which shows what Naomi and Sam went through during "Scientific Method," and "Duplicate," where Naomi learns the truth about her birth. Oh, and "Drunken Fantasy," if you like crack-fics. (Relax, Naomi doesn't "hook up" with anyone; she just observes a lot of freaky sh*t.)