Ba'el sat in the twilight, listening to the night animals and insects in the jungle beyond the wall of the compound. It was now two months since Worf, the son of Mogh, had left her, but his memory was still fresh in her mind. She had tried her hardest to forget him, but to no avail. She would never be able forget a man like him.
Yet throughout her torture, she never once regretted that she did not go with him. This place was her entire universe. She was the child of two worlds, and those worlds were bitter enemies. No one outside of her isolated home would accept her. Worf did not even fully accept her. He was fully Klingon, and would have been ashamed to be attached to a woman who was half-Romulan. No, she had made the right decision.
"Ba'el," her father called from the doorway of their home, "are you going to stare at the stars all night?"
"I will come in soon, father," she answered softly. She had completely forgiven him for nearly executing the man she loved. Tokath had strongly apposed her having a relationship with Worf. He knew all too well that his daughter's heart would end up broken. It could have been much worse, she knew.
Tokath sat down beside his daughter. "You miss him, don't you?" he asked kindly.
Ba'el never lied to her father, so she nodded. "I have never loved any other man, except you, of course."
"I know," he said, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "I wish more than anything that I could change the ways of the galaxy for you, Ba'el, but I cannot." She could hear the helplessness in his voice. "You know I would do anything for my only child."
Ba'el nodded again as he stood. "Don't stay out too late," he said.
"Yes, father," she answered obediently as he went back inside.
Just then, she heard someone approach. Dhaval, one of the Romulan guards, was making his final official rounds. He tipped his head respectfully when he noticed her sitting there. He had been transferred to Carraya IV literally the day after Worf left. She had heard from one of the other guards that one of his relatives had fallen into political disfavor, but it nothing that warranted the death penalty for him. Instead, he was transferred to the secret prison camp in an effort to make him "disappear." No one knew what had happened to the rest of his family.
Dhaval had barely ever spoken to her. He was civil, of course, since she was his superior's daughter. But, as a newcomer from the outside, she could tell that he strongly disapproved of her and of her home. In fact, he was only recently beginning to speak to anyone. It was going to be an extremely difficult adjustment for him, she knew. But he would come around and eventually find his place in the community.
In the meantime, she was friendly to him, but she gave him his space. "It's a nice night, don't you think?" Ba'el asked him.
Dhaval stopped, surprised that she had called to him. "Yes, my Lady," he said slowly. It was clear that he loathed addressing her, a half-Klingon woman, by that title.
"This isn't Romulus. You don't have to call me that," she insisted. "In fact, I'd rather that you didn't."
"How else am I supposed to address my commander's daughter?" he asked, taken aback.
"'Ba'el' will do just fine," she answered.
The Romulan blinked, not knowing how to respond. "Alright," he said finally, "Ba'el. Goodnight." She smiled. It was a good start.
He nodded again, and was about to turn to continue his patrol when there was a sudden burst of light in the sky. They looked up to see a large object entering the atmosphere. It was impossible to tell what it was, but Ba'el assumed it was a meteorite. There was a loud peal as it collided into the planet's surface.
At once all of the lights in the compound turned on and everyone rushed outside. Ba'el heard the communications monitor inform her father that it was a Federation passenger ship that had just crashed.
"Dhaval," Tokath ordered, "You will put together a team and we will go to the site to rescue any survivors."
Dhaval snapped to attention. "Yes, Commander," he acknowledged.
Ba'el watched as her father and the others left the compound and entered the jungle. She desperately hoped that there would be at least a few survivors. It was a lonely life here, and she wanted to meet new people—any people.