A/N: I suppose this would be considered AU, only because it's fanfiction of fanfiction, if that makes any sense. It's some background and a different viewpoint of the antagonist of William Shatner's Star Trek fanfiction, The Return. I just really liked Salatrel's character; plus I thought a character with such potential deserves more than to be in a novel written by William Shatner.

Surrender

Crying was weakness. Weakness meant no power. No power meant no respect. No respect meant being doomed to a life of labor, ridicule, and tears. This was the way Salatrel, and most other Romulans, had been brought up, and her nine-year-old mind couldn't think any differently. Salatrel forced her tears back, but knowing her weakness was still clearly shown on her face.

While Salatrel was at school, she had been insulted because of her poor defense skills. While the student had clearly challenged Salatrel to a fight, she had simply shook her head and said she'd work on her tactics later. Backing down from a completely illogical fight was, apparently, an offense to her family's name. In the small time that had passed after the argument, Salatrel had tried as hard as she could to forget the things her parents had said to her. Then they had simply walked out of the house. Salatrel hated it when they did that. She had no idea where they went and when they would be back, as it varied every time they left.

Now that her parents were gone, Salatrel was alone, and no one would see her weakness. Salatrel let a warm tear slide down her cheek, but only one. She knew she would have to practice self-discipline so this wouldn't happen in the future. Suddenly, cold air slashed at Salatrel's skin came with the loud creaking of the door as it flew open. Salatrel looked up eagerly, wiping the tear stain away with her sleeve. Her parents had only been gone for a little while, and maybe Salatrel could manage to persuade them to give her dinner tonight…

No, there was only one set of footsteps that Salatrel could hear, and that could only mean her older brother, Commander Domitian. Domitian was the only person Salatrel knew who could stand up for her, help her, and sympathize with her. When her parents wouldn't give Salatrel dinner, Domitian would sneak some of his up to his little sister's room. When their parents found out about something Salatrel did at battle training, Domitian would distract them or try to convince them that Salatrel shouldn't be punished for it. Perhaps Salatrel's best memory was when, a little before her first battle training session, Domitian had shown her the proper way to hold a sword, so Salatrel was a little ahead of all the other kids in her class.

When Domitian had been accepted to the Romulan Star Empire, he had been the focus of Salatrel's entire family. And during that time, her parents had often compared Salatrel to her older brother. But Salatrel was truly happy for Domitian, especially when he was appointed Centurion, and later commander, of the Romulan Warbird Stridon. Salatrel knew she could ask Domitian anything, and, now that their parents where gone, Salatrel planned to ask him a question that had been burning in her mind ever since she had overheard her parents talking about it.

"Domitian, what happened to my Grandfather?"

Domitian's face hardened. Salatrel realized this must be a really serious conversation, as Domitian hardly did anything but smile when Salatrel was around. Copying her older brother, Salatrel forced her face to relax, pressing her lips together in a way that almost mocked Domitian.

Domitian must have noticed Salatrel's facial expression change, because he softened his gaze and his tone of voice was almost conversational.

"Our Grandfather was killed in a battle with Starfleet. His brave tactics in battle brought great honor to our family." Domitian paused there, hoping that was enough explanation for his younger sister. But Salatrel's gaze was consistent, obviously waiting for him to continue.

Domitian sighed and sat down next to Salatrel, "Our Grandfather had encountered a Starfleet vessel, captained by Commander George Kirk," Domitian practically spit out Commander Kirk's name. Salatrel instantly hated the name, too.

"The Federation had sent a Starfleet vessel into the Neutral Zone, violating our treaty. Our Grandfather defended Romulan space and attacked Kirk's ship. Of course, Kirk refused to give a reason why he was in the Neutral Zone and why he didn't leave when he was reminded of the treaty the Romulans had with the Federation. Our Grandfather did the only thing he could do."

"But couldn't Grandfather just have surrendered? Or tried to work something out with…" Salatrel's question was cut off when Domitian leaned forward and held Salatrel's shoulders tightly, his face as serious as Salatrel had ever seen him.

"Death or going down with your ship is a much, much better alternative to surrendering to the Federation." Domitian spoke in a slow voice, over-annunciating every syllable, "Remember that every second of your life, Salatrel."

Salatrel tried as hard as she could not to scream out in agony, crumple up the letter from the Romulan Star Empire, and throw it as far as she could. Try as she might, Salatrel couldn't stop her eyes from watering as she read the piercingly plain, neatly printed text.

"We regret to inform your family that Commander Domitian, along with the rest of the crew of the Romulan Warbird Stridon, where killed on Stardate 8179.5 when his fleet was shot down by a Federation vessel." Salatrel clenched her fist. She knew it must be Kirk.

Still, she just couldn't comprehend that sentence of the letter. Not even now, at age 16. She felt her legs give out from under her, and didn't try to stop herself from collapsing on the floor of her house. She heard someone get up from a chair and kneel down beside her.

"Salatrel! Can you stand?" Salatrel felt the strong, protective arms of Vox, an old member of her training group, help her get back up. She left the Romulan Star Empire letter on the ground where she dropped it.

Salatrel turned around to face Vox. His real name wasn't Vox, but recently, for some unknown reason, he had asked them to refer to him as Vox. Salatrel opened her mouth to say something. But her mind went blank; she didn't trust herself to say anything without bursting into tears anyway. Instead, she threw her arms around Vox and started sobbing into his shoulder.

Vox obviously had something to say, and Salatrel could tell. Considering the fact that Vox hadn't even hinted anything yet, Salatrel could infer that it wasn't good news. She silently willed Vox to tell her. She didn't think she could possibly hurt any more than she did now.

As a response to her silent plea, Vox lowered his voice and spoke carefully to Salatrel, "I've signed up to join the Romulan Star Empire." Vox said, squeezing her hand gently.

And that was enough. Salatrel had just lost the only person she had ever trusted, Domitian. Now she was about to loose the only person she thought could have helped her through. Vox was her best, and only, friend.

"Enlist with me." Vox said suddenly. He pulled Salatrel away to face him, "Your grades are great. Your fighting skills are fantastic. The Empire would have to be stupid not to accept!"

Salatrel held his gaze with absolutely no emotion. She remembered a discussion she had with Domitian a long time ago. She remembered how her Grandfather, and now Domitian, had been killed by the Federation. Salatrel had one chance to avenge her brother and Grandfather. A chance to stay with the one person she could trust.

"OK, Vox," Salatrel said carefully, taking tight hold of the only chance, Salatrel knew, at a life of prosperity, respect, power, and happiness. Everything she had lived her life so far without, "I'll enlist in the Empire."

She had come this far. Salatrel had watched as her lover, Vox, had willingly turned himself into a machine. Watched as everything she had learned as a child took over herself. The need for revenge and power had driven her. She had known, deep down, that those things would only be temporary. And yet she had fought with everything she had to keep them. Even when Vox warned her, it was too late. She had passed up her last chance at a last chance.

The bridge shook.*

Salatrel heard the hiss of escaping air.*

And her life flashed before her eyes in that moment. Her mind flashed back to a time in history she had almost forgotten, yet lived every second of her life following it. Her discussion with her brother, Domitian, when she was nine.

"Death or going down with your ship is a much, much better alternative to surrendering to the Federation." Domitian had told her, "Remember that every second of your life, Salatrel."

"I have, Domitian," Salatrel whispered to herself, if only to give herself some sense of joy in these last few seconds of life, "I have."

And with an endless cry of denial, she was sucked out through the rent in the hull, knowing she fell through stars that still shine on Kirk, but which would never shine on her again.*

* Taken from Salatrel's actual death scene from The Return by William Shatner.