A Risk Worth Taking

Space was cold. Some call it heartless, others a dangerous place. Space isn't forgiving, and it doesn't love. Space will not comfort you. Stars will. In the stars, people find hope where there once was none. Stars provide a gateway to far away worlds, sometimes worlds one can only dream.

Then there are those rare, special moments in the universe, where stars seem to align, and those dreams become reality. One young Earth girl realized that dream. Aboard the USS Enterprise-D, one Earth girl encountered a Romulan. He may have been battered, bruised, but his honor, his poise spurred her to action. An action her heart had craved for years.

In life there are choices, one has to make. Ael decided to make her choice. She wanted a new life.

She thought it was a risk worth taking.

…

* This story is written in the first and third person perspectives. First person PoV will always be in bold.

* This story was also written mainly for fun, because a friend and I thought Bochra was cute. There will be some discrepancies between the actual episode and this story.

Prologue

What am I doing?

Peeking around the corner in sickbay a young, human woman, barely twenty-one years of age, drew in a deep breath, her eyes wide and unblinking. The breath was held for several seconds, whooshing out in a rush when the smell of sanitizer hit her like a brick to the back of the head, harsh and unforgiving, her eyes squeezing closed. She ducked back around the corner and shook her head to clear it, her sinuses burning from the intensity of the odor that permeated this isolated area of the ward, an area she had no business being in.

No one is around. Good. I don't need to get caught. I have no idea where those two security guards went to, but maybe they figure this man is so close to death that their presence doesn't matter anymore, or perhaps there's a more urgent matter that takes precedence over a three-quarters-dead Romulan.

Deciding that wherever the security guards had gone, it wasn't worth worrying about at the moment, she nodded, answering a silent query. If she was going to make her move, she had to, now, before it was too late to do anything at all.

After casting a glance back over her shoulder to make certain no one was approaching, another deep breath filled her lungs, and she stepped around the corner.

There was but a single occupied bed in this somewhat isolated section of sickbay, the readout overhead told the truth of what the occupant was enduring, how close to death. There was little question within her mind: He would be dead within the hour. Scanning the readout from several feet back was enough to elicit a soft sigh. Quietly, she stepped closer, over to the bed, her eyes creasing in sorrow.

Not only was this man's temperature a good seven degrees above normal, nearly forty-two centigrade, but his breathing was both rapid yet shallow. Eyes clouding with mist, she dared to reach out as if she were about to touch his cheek, hesitating due to the heat she could feel, radiating from his dark olive, dirt-stained skin.

To everyone else on the ship, he was but a Romulan. To many, his life meant nothing.

So perhaps she didn't much matter to anyone, either.

Born of a human on the planet of Earth, Jennifer Anne Davis had always known she was different. She took an early fascination with the stars in the heavens, able to spend hours doing little more than gazing up, dreaming; wondering where she fit in the universe. Earth never felt like home. To her, Earth felt like an alien world, a world where she was unable to find her place, a sense of belonging. Those feelings began to change from the time she had ever heard the word "Romulan."

Reading and learning, Jennifer immersed herself in anything and everything she could find to teach her of the Romulan people, of their culture, their language. Save for one very talented linguist, who aided her in beginning the study of the Romulan language, back when she had been scarcely ten years old; there was little in the way of information on the people with whom she was beginning to feel a connection. Well, unless you wanted to count words like "deceitful", "manipulative", and "best avoided" as being remotely helpful.

It made her yearn to know more.

Time passed, the crossing of a path by sheer chance; By the time she was partway into her teenage years, Jennifer was no longer convinced she was a human being at all, rather born in the wrong body altogether. Even the universe could make mistakes. Upon herself, she bestowed a Romulan name: Ael. The name was one of noble history, carrying with it esteemed honor, relentless pride, courage through adversity and hardship.

The soul knew what it was, but she had to keep that secret closely guarded. No one could know. Only her people could know what she truthfully felt her heart to be, but due to her outward appearance, the color of her blood, Ael knew that outright, no Romulan would ever accept her or her claims at face value.

Maybe this one will.

The grimy smell of an unknown world, the dingy dust clinging to his body; the smell of ash and smoke clinging to his uniform, the telling scent of coming death; it shook Ael to her core. It angered her.

I am so sorry, my friend, she thought.To die here, among these who are not yours, alone. It's a fate worse than, well, death itself.

For many moments, Ael was unable to speak a word aloud, the thoughts of being caught in this room, with this man, far from her mind. Hand shaking Ael placed her palm against his cheek, the heat nearly overwhelming her. With a gentle movement reminiscent of a mother's touch, Ael moved her hand to his forehead, careful not to upset the device that had been placed there some time ago, to monitor brain activity.

"If the Elements can hear, I pray they take you, now, while one of yours is with you," she whispered.

With a trembling sigh, her green eyes closed, another prayer, this time in the Romulan tongue flowing from her mouth. The bed's occupant began to stir, Ael only becoming aware when she heard the man groan. Ael opened her eyes, and he opened his. Suddenly his breaths were more erratic.

He probably thinks I'm just another bothersome, ignorant human here to force him to take Klingon blood. There has to be a way to calm him down and show him that I am not a threat.

"Faedhe, daehlen," she said in a soft, non-threatening tone her hand moving to make contact with his, which was clenched tightly in a fist of frustration and pain. The soldier's eyes flicked quickly to her when she touched him, an expression of confusion in his eyes at the spoken words, as well as one of born disgust over the unwanted contact. Out of sheer respect, Ael moved her hand.

Blood-green eyes stared into his dark ones, so dark they may as well have been called raven black; they were startlingly vibrant with emotion, question.

Why was this human here, at his bedside? Why was she not questioning him? Why was her expression so tender and yet so pained, full of sorrow, anger? Small in stature, barely over five feet in height, long hair the color of an open flame, eyes greener than a precious gem; her ears were devoid of points, her forehead of ridges, but yet she spoke in the native tongue of the Romulan people.

"Arhem daehlen," she said in the same soft tone as before. Ael hoped that speaking the soft, gently flowing language of the Romulan people would somehow soothe and comfort the ailing man. The Romulan's breathing pattern began to slow, his expression puzzled yet curious, some of the tension surrounding anyone at his bedside, ebbing away.

She's speaking in the language of my people. How? Ael quickly turned when she thought she heard footsteps coming close, but the soldier's voice brought her focus, back.

"Rihannsu, veisa-au docgae?" Ael smiled.

"Arhem Rihanha." The Romulan's eyes widened in confusion and surprise, and Ael's mind was reeling as she struggled with what she could say next. It had been far too long since she had shared even a single word in this language to anyone else, and she had almost begun to forget how the words felt as they rolled from her tongue. As she thought over what to say next, she could feel the words starting to jumble and twist, and she had to work hard to stifle a frustrated sigh. Talking in complex sentences was no doubt going to be difficult due to a rusty set of language skills, but she had to try. The dialect was greatly soothing to this soldier and that, in turn, made Ael's heart, lighter.

"Emael hevam?" he asked before Ael could speak his tone soft like hers had been, though abundantly raspy. He attempted to speak further, but could only cough and stammer, due to his rapidly declining health. With a shake of her head, Ael slipped her fingers into the soldier's hand and grasped it, holding firmly. A reaction, possibly violent, was expected or at the very least, a harsh word despite intrigue, but none of those things, came. Ael refused to believe it was because the man was out of strength, too weak to move.

Right now, I am the closest thing to another Romulan that he has. I may not be of his blood, and he may have no trust in me at all, but at least I can provide him with a little comfort.

"Fvaekh? Arhem ssuaj..." A slight sigh escaped her lips. "Modherr'ih rotulai."

"Hlamnae," came the slightly breathless answer. He was having great difficulty with his breathing again, and Ael nearly shouted for help before she remembered that her aim was not to get caught. Besides, this infirmary was useless; they were not properly equipped to treat someone of Romulan anatomy. This soldier wanted her to try and explain herself to him, but she wasn't sure how to speak some of the words that she would need to use. Holding up a finger that signaled to the soldier that she needed a moment Ael touched the surface of a personal translator that was banded gently around her wrist. For all, most people knew it was just jewelry. Once the light on the small, intricate bracelet began to flash blue Ael turned back to the Romulan to see him gazing at her with expectation in his questioning stare.

"I didn't want to misspeak something on accident," she explained.

"Your knowledge of...the Romulan language is curiously impressive." Coughing hard, the soldier gripped Ael's hand so tightly that she felt an intense, bone crushing pain. Wincing silently was all she would allow herself to do in response. "What did you mean when you said that you are Romulan?"

"It's hard to explain in any language," Ael said, dashing her free hand over her eyes, briefly, ridding them of the accumulated moisture. "It's a deeply rooted feeling that I have always had. I could tell you the story, but I don't think I have the time to do it." Silently staring, attempting to explain the reality of her soul, was impossible. "I was born...human," she said with hesitation. It bothered her to speak such an offensive word about her overall being. "But I choose to be Romulan. My soul knows what it is...I know."

"You seem very certain. How?" Ael prayed that he could see what she was. She hoped for even an ounce of trust.

"It's more than a feeling. From as young as two years of age, I was captivated by the stars. By the time I was five, I had a very instinctual feeling that something wasn't right; it felt I didn't belong. The older I became, the more intense the feeling presented. When I first heard the word "Romulan" it was like something in my mind, my soul…just connected. I've been learning and researching all I could since that time, yearning to find my way home to the world that I know would never accept me, based on my biology."

"Does anyone else...know?" Ael shook her head.

"No one," she said her voice nearly a whisper. Quietly, she disclosed more about how she felt, the first time in the world she had ever dared to tell another living, breathing soul about her most intimate secret.

"I...believe you." Ael's attention instantly became far more focused, a thankful smile lighting her eyes and turning up her lips, but even so she was unable to contain her surprise.

"Why?" The word just slipped out. She was almost astonished that any Romulan could believe her, but somehow this one did.

"I...I don't know." It was clear that he truly didn't know the answer to her query, and the second his breathing once again began to take on a rough edge Ael made the decision to slip back into the Romulan language. If it had soothed him the first time, Ael was sure it would again.

"I dislike this language," she murmured, the blue light on her wrist device fading away into nothingness. The explanation, what there was of it was over, there seemed to be little left to say, the soldier's eyes once again beginning to close. He was tired; the battle for life was about at its end.

I wonder what his name is…

"Fva'hwai fvadni?" Ael looked at him curiously, and when he slightly hesitated, she spoke first. "Arhem Ael."

"Arhem Patahk." The way he said his name caused Ael to shudder visibly. It sounded so close to the Klingon curse that it sickened her. "Ouye fvadni," he said, making a weakened gesture towards her. Ael felt tears in her eyes at the realization: this man saw her for what she had always felt that she was, even if it was only by the smallest margin.

This one is Romulan; Fire in her very soul. If there is a way, she must find Bochra. She must find a way off of this wretched vessel. Without another word, the biofunction monitor that rested just above his bed whined shrilly. Ael's eyes flicked up in time to see his temperature shoot up another degree and a half. It was almost over; he was falling fast. He took in a great, shuddering breath, his eyes closed, and a momentary spasm flooded through his beaten form.

"Au gaenoh?" Why did I ask that? Of course, he isn't OK! Ael's tone carried all of her pain, every ounce of her worry. Her question was for comfort's sake, the answer nothing she wanted to hear, though knew she would.

"Arhem llaiuri."

I know, you're dying…and it isn't fair! "Arhem docgae." Ael allowed the tears to come, a single tear rolling down her cheek at first, the first of an onslaught of many, but that single tear was violently angry. "Rruieh'ih solaere-au." She felt more helpless at this moment than she had in a very long time. There was nothing she could do, to help. "Dhat aled," Patahk fixed her with a momentary stare that some might have called, gentle; an expression he never expected ever to give anyone who appeared human.

"Aeim'ra. Arhem ssuaj." He knew her intent, and he could see the desperation to save him, on her face, but there was nothing that she could do other than be with him, and nothing that he could do but wait to die.

"Fvadt!" Ael was frustrated, her loud curse finally attracting some attention, the whining biofunction monitor now screeching loudly enough to indicate a medical presence was necessary. They were both out of time.

"There is another from my craft...on the surface. You have to find him, Ael. You must find him at any cost." Ael nodded quickly at the man's strained voice, leaning closer so she could catch his now-whispering words.

"I will do my best," she answered. Patahk reached up a single, shaky hand and placed it on her chest.

"It is something that you must do," he repeated firmly, urgently. "Do not allow yourself to remain 'captured' among these people. They are not yours. They will be your death as they are becoming mine."

Will this other Romulan even believe me? I have to try. I need to get away as I have always wished I could do; to start my life anew on Romulus and forget the first twenty-one years of my life, as if they were nothing but a grotesque nightmare.

Once again she was torn from her thoughts as his hand gripped hers with a bruising strength. Harsh coughs racked his body and Ael's breath caught in her throat when she heard footsteps racing towards her. A security guard, two nurses, and Dr. Beverly Crusher all hurried into the small section of the ward. They all stopped short when they saw Ael at the Romulan's bedside.

"How did you…? You can't be in here. You need to leave right now." Ael locked eyes with Dr. Crusher, the medical chief giving her one chance to turn tail and run from sickbay, lest security escort her out.

Ael couldn't bring herself to move, clenching her jaw to the point her teeth began to ache in protest. "And do what? Leave him in your capable hands?" she spat. "You keep trying to force this man to take treatment; to take blood that he has no desire to accept. Do you even know how easy it was to sneak back here? None of you care about him or his well-being, so drop the façade, will you? Just leave him alone. Allow him to die as he is; let him die whole, as a Romulan."

Though the expression on Beverly's face began to darken, and even though she advanced without glancing over to security Ael stayed rooted to Patahk's side.

"Leave. Now." Ael turned back to Patahk one last time. She would not win this battle. Already she could hear the doctor's raised voice as she ordered security to get Ael out of the sickbay.

"Arhem usae, ravsai." Ael bowed her head in a sign of respect, touched fingers to his forehead, and then turned to run, bolting past security when a hand reached out to grab her.

"Urri. Theah!" The words had been hard for him to form, loudly at that but he was not about to watch her get caught. "Tae diam," were the last words Ael heard as fled sickbay; they spurred her forwards. Racing down the corridors as fast as she could go Ael dared not look back. Her mind was whirling as her thoughts began to process everything that had taken place during the last ten minutes.

She had a feeling her life was about to change.

She had to find this man; she had to find Bochra.

She would find him.

If not for herself and her dream at beginning life anew, but for the wishes of the dying soldier that she had been forced to abandon as he lay dying among an alien and hated race.

I am Romulan; it's time to prove it. It's time to find my way home.