Ba'el

By: Ginomo

Based on the TNG episode, "Birthright Part II." While aboard the Enterprise, Worf traveled to a Romulan prison camp and fell for Ba'el, the daughter of the Romulan commander and one of the Klingon prisoners. Years later, the Dominion War brings Ba'el to Deep Space Nine and back into Worf's life.

Chapter 2

Ba'el wiped sweat from her brow and stretched her back. She'd spent most of the morning foraging in the hills outside the compound. There were wild berries that grew there and she wanted to make something special for D'Laria's 70th birthday. Her baked goods were famous amongst their small group and this had become somewhat of a tradition. It was a good thing D'Laria didn't like the pie to be too sweet because Ba'el wasn't sure she'd have enough of the other ingredients that she'd need.

For as long as she could remember, a Romulan supply ship orbited their small planet once a month like clockwork to deliver whatever food and materials they needed. Then, about two years ago, the visits started becoming less frequent. Her father Tokath said there was a war going on in this part of the galaxy and that they'd have to conserve their resources. Ba'el wasn't sure if she should believe him or not; this wouldn't be the first time he'd made up a story about a war to pacify her. But as time went on, the supplies were running dangerously low and Ba'el noticed the elders speaking in secretive, hushed tones, she began to realize that something must really be wrong.

She brought her basket of berries into the dining hall and placed it on the table. Each one of the remaining residents of Carraya IV were gathered there, huddled around the table where Tokath and L'Kor sat.

"If what you have told us of these aliens is true then we cannot trust them."

"I know," Tokath said gravely.

"Can we get help from the Romulans?"

"No," Tokath shook his head, "They would never get here in time. And honestly, their forces are stretched thin as it is with fighting the Dominion."

"What is going on?" Ba'el asked.

They all looked at her, then back to Tokath. "Thank goodness you are back," he began, "There is an alien vessel in orbit, a Jem'Hadar vessel. They just contacted us; they want to take over the compound as a base of operations and have promised to spare us if we cooperate."

Ba'el's eyes were wide, "I do not understand…"

Gi'ral looked at her daughter and truly realized what a disservice they'd done to her by sheltering her from the world. She came to her side and gripped her hand, "These are the people we have been telling you about, the ones at war with both the Romulans and the Klingons. They have given us half an hour to prepare for their arrival," she paused, "But when they get here, they are going to kill us."

"What? But you just said-"

"It is a trap to lure us into a false sense of security so that we don't try to resist," Tokath said, his voice heavy with defeat. He couldn't even look at his daughter, "They will kill us. They have no doubt scanned us and realize we don't have the capacity to fight back."

L'Kor stood, "But we will fight back. If they kill us, so be it," The other Klingons nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps you have forgotten that not everyone here shares your desire to die in battle," Tokath replied.

Gi'ral continued to hold her daughter's hand, which was trembling now, "You and Ba'el will go into the jungle. Take a comm unit and a couple days provisions. We will stay behind and hold them off. You will contact the Romulans and get our daughter off this planet one way or another. She has been here long enough."

Tokath stood. He had no idea if this was going to work but there really were no other options, "Yes," he said quietly.

"The rest of you, find whatever weapon you can," L'Kor's eyes lit up; he'd been waiting for something like this since they got there, "We will hold them off as long as we can to give Ba'el a chance to escape. She has sacrificed herself for us, and now it is time to repay that debt.

The other Klingons scattered, all of them old and horribly out of practice, but eager to finally have a chance to redeem their dishonor from a lifetime ago. The only ones left were Gi'ral, Tokath and Ba'el.

Gi'ral embraced her husband, "Thank you," she said to him sincerely, and he knew her gratitude was not just for this last deed, but for the life they'd shared.

"You do not have to do this."

"Yes, I do. I need to do this. Just promise me you will get our daughter to safety."

Tokath had no idea if he could, but he also knew his wife was about to die and what she needed to hear was that he would, "I promise, I will."

Ba'el was in shock. Five minutes ago she was prepping for a birthday celebration. Now her world was crashing down around her. She stood there paralyzed as her father gripped her arm, "Come, daughter, we must go."

"Mother?" she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

Gi'ral took her face in her hands and looked into her eyes, "It is time for you to go, time for you to live your life. Never forget, you have the heart of a Klingon and you are strong. You will know what to do. You will survive."

"But what about you?"

She smiled, a peaceful and contented smile, "It is time for me to go as well."

The hum of the Romulan vessel kept Ba'el up at night. She wasn't used to constantly hearing engines rumbling beneath her, she was used to the sounds of the jungle as it came alive at sundown. She was used to the animal calls, the birds, and the wind through the trees, not this. It had been three days since she'd seen the sun and she thought she might go insane.

There was a beeping sound coming from the door to her quarters. Ba'el had learned that meant someone was trying to come in. She'd never heard anything but knocking on door before now, "Come in."

It was her father. That didn't surprise her seeing that he was the only person on this ship that would speak to her. The rest just gave her odd looks, or avoided looking at her altogether.

"We are almost there," he said gently.

She nodded.

"How are you feeling? Have you eaten?"

"No, not today."

"You have to eat, Ba'el. Do you need help with using the replicator? It took me awhile to remember some things; I haven't been on a ship since before you were born."

She shook her head.

"You know, my offer still stands. You could come to Romulus with me."

That got a response out of her, "Oh no. If the stares, or lack thereof, on this ship are any indication of what life will be like on Romulus then there's no way."

"Our surgeon can have you… altered," he said gingerly, motioning to her forehead.

Ba'el touched her ridges, "No, I can't do that. Mother would hate that."

The mention of Gi'ral made them both quiet for a moment. Tokath sat next to her, "Alright then. You are sure you want to go looking for… for him?"

"Yes. I have told you Father, I have to find Worf. I have to," she couldn't even begin to explain to her father how much finding Worf meant to her. Ba'el had spent the years since Worf left Carraya IV thinking of nothing but him. She wondered where he was, what he was doing. She filled her days thinking about what their life would have been like if she had gone with him and her nights dreaming of one day reuniting with him. Worf would have missed her just as much as she missed him. She would apologize for not going with him and he would understand. He'd take her in his arms and they'd be together, just as they had on his last night, but instead it would be every night, forever…

Tokath sighed, "I told you I would look for as much information as I could about Worf," he began, "And we were able to use our intelligence to find some basic biographical data."

Ba'el perked up, "Then you know where he is?"

"You know, the colony where everyone went years ago, Pheben III, will not take long to get to at all. Just one transport ship and you could meet up with Toq and all the others. I bet they would love to see you."

"Father, I know you were never fond of Worf but after everything that has happened you have to let it go. I bet he has."

"It's not that, Ba'el. How much do you even know about Worf? You are putting a lot of faith in someone you only knew for a short time."

"I know his heart and he knows mine. Now please, tell me what you found."

Tokath was trying to protect his daughter as he always did. But he realized maybe that was the problem; he tried too hard to shelter her. Some things she'd have to learn for herself, even if it hurt, "Now keep in mind, our intelligence might not be up to date. The most recent information we have on Worf is that he is a Starfleet Officer, he holds the rank of Lieutenant Commander and he serves on a space station called Deep Space Nine."

"Is that far from here?"

"Yes. It will take you at least a week by transport vessel, maybe two. Pheben III is only a day or two away."

"I'm enjoying space travel so far, a week on a transport ship sounds fine," that was a lie, she hated this ship but she'd do anything if it got her to Worf, "What else?"

"There's not much else you would need to know, just one more thing," Tokath paused, "Worf is married."

Married? The word hit Ba'el like a ton of bricks. She felt as if she'd been slapped in the face or punched in the gut. She gasped, and then could barely catch her breath.

"I am sorry, Ba'el. I did not want to have to tell you. I was hoping to convince you to go elsewhere so you wouldn't have to find out."

"You cannot keep lying to me to protect me," she managed to say.

"I know. That's why I told you," Tokath stood, "I'll let you have a moment to yourself to process this. I'll go see if we can rendezvous with a transport vessel heading towards the Pheben System.

"No," she began, "I told you, I need to see Worf."

"Did you not understand what I told you?"

"You said the information might be incorrect…"

"Incomplete perhaps, but if it says he's married I doubt someone would add that erroneously."

"I need to see him," Ba'el said definitively, "I very well might end up on Pheben III soon after, but I need to see Worf first."

Another sigh from Tokath, "Very well. I will arrange your passage to Deep Space Nine."

After twelve days and three transport ships, Ba'el dock at Space Station Deep Space Nine. Her father had given her a litany of advice before they said goodbye on what would quite possibly be the last time they ever saw one another. Her story was that she'd lived her whole life on a remote farming colony and that if anyone asked about her ears, she was to tell them she was half Vulcan. Neither of which were complete lies.

She kept to herself, listened to much yet said very little, and by the time she got to the space station, Ba'el began to feel a little more comfortable being on her own and away from Carraya. She'd even met a friendly woman, a Bajoran, on the last leg of the trip. The two waited together for the ship to get docking clearance at the station.

"Is this your last stop?" Ba'el asked the woman.

"Almost. I have to catch another transport to Bajor, but that only takes a few hours."

"Have you ever been to this station? I need to find someone and I don't know where to begin."

"Oh, yeah, all the time. Head to Quark's. Anything, or anyone, you need on DS9 you can find at Quark's."

So that's what she did. As the passengers rushed off the ship Ba'el walked slowly, her newfound courage began to drain away with every step she took in this foreign place. It didn't look like any of the transports ships, the dark gray, odd angles and imposing arches seemed ominous to her. As she walked, Ba'el passed a pair of Klingon women in the corridors and wondered if one of them was the woman Worf had chosen to mate with. She'd forced herself to not think of Worf's wife but now that she was here she couldn't hide from it anymore.

What a fool she'd been, all these years thinking Worf would wait for her. He'd moved on, he lived his life and understandably so. Ba'el chose to stay behind and this was the consequence. Would Worf even remember who she was? And what would she say to him? Would his wife be with him or would she get to talk to him alone? Naively, none of the daydreamed scenarios of reuniting with her one true love had ever involved his wife.

Just as she began seriously consider turning right back around and heading for Pheben III, she came upon Quark's Bar and Restaurant. Her mother's words resonated with her, "Never forget, you have the heart of a Klingon and you are strong. You will know what to do."

Ba'el entered the establishment, her hands tightly gripping the strap of her pack. The room was filled with people, some eating, some drinking, and some playing games. She looked up and could see a second floor where more people congregated. There was a bar near the entrance where several men were serving drinks to people who requested them. She'd have to start somewhere. Ba'el took a deep breath and walked to the bar. She sat on one of the stools and patiently waited for several minutes. No one came to her.

"Excuse me? Um… excuse me?"

One of the men stopped. Like many people on this station, he was a species she didn't recognize, "Sorry, it's always busy when a transport ship docks. What can I get you?"

"I, I'm looking for someone. Perhaps you can help me?" Ba'el stammered nervously.

He seemed annoyed, "Then you don't want to order anything?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just don't know who to ask. Should I ask someone else?"

Quark sighed. She was awfully nice and polite for a Klingon woman so he figured he'd help her out, "No one else on the station knows people better than I do. Who are you looking for?"

"Worf. I mean, Lieutenant Commander Worf."

That's not the response he was expecting. "Now what would a pretty lady like you want with him?"

Ba'el frowned, "I don't understand what you mean by that."

"Eh, forget it. He's probably on duty, that's all he does. Though I think he's got a holosuite reservation later on and he never misses that. You can wait here if you'd like."

Ba'el was relieved to know that she was in the right place and Worf was indeed there, "Thank You."

Quark looked at the Klingon woman for a moment. She was looking around at everything like she'd never been in a bar before and clutching her bag as if someone would take it at any moment. If he didn't know any better he'd say she was terrified. Something was going on here and Quark made it his business to know everyone else's business. He placed a cup of raktajino in front of her, "Here, you look like you could use this."

"Thank you," Ba'el took a sip and frowned, "Ew, um, what is this?" she tried to be polite but it was obvious that she hated it.

Quark laughed, "A Klingon that doesn't like raktajino? Let me guess, you want a prune juice?"

Ba'el was confused, "Prune juice?"

Quark was just about to ask how someone could know Worf and not know what prune juice was, but he was interrupted, "Ugh, what a day. I need something strong Quark."

His eyes went from Ba'el to the woman who'd just walked in and then back again, "We have someone new on the station, a friend of Worf's apparently," he said, waiting to see what kind of reaction that elicited.

Ba'el turned to look at the woman the bartender was addressing. She had fair skin, much lighter than any Klingon or even Romulan for that matter. Her hair was dark brown and her eyes were a piercing shade of blue. Her face and neck were framed with intricate spots. As was with most things these days, she'd never seen anything like it and It was hard for Ba'el not to stare.

"You know Worf?" the woman asked.

"Yes, but it has been a very long time since we've seen each other."

"I think he's in ops right now, is he expecting you?"

"No, we have not spoken in years" Ba'el replied, "But I've traveled a long way to find him. My name is Ba'el."

The woman with the blue eyes looked at Ba'el for a moment. She racked her brain trying to remember if Worf had ever mentioned that name. He hadn't. "Well welcome to Deep Space Nine, Ba'el. I'm Dax."

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