The Complication

Captain, Simple Tailor, Romulan Spy

But for Sela, it was her refuge – something to focus on that was anything but the sound of the prisoners directly below them.

She had seen this particular experiment no less than half a dozen times already. And she had seen worse.

Yet on this particular occasion there was something Sela couldn't overlook. It wasn't the unbearable way in which the victims were fighting against the restraints nor the slugs that were expelled from their bodies, slipping out the ear and falling dead to the ground.

The victim in the third cot on the left couldn't be much older than twelve but that barely even registered with Sela because he was human.

And all humans were the same in her eyes. They were good for one thing and one thing only – labour.

But there were a handful of victims directly below the window that made Sela's stomach turn as they cried out, praying for death in a language foreign to the scientists and other personnel in the room.

Trocàirorm.

Mercy.

Commander Sela kept her eyes fixated on the sign on the far wall.

She stared. Unblinking. Stony.

A pillar of composure as the experiment progressed – just like she had been trained to do as a girl.

-X-

Fourteen Years Earlier

Sela tried to bury her head against the chest of her guardian. She didn't like the sight or sounds around her.

Her father was disciplining another one of their human labourers, making an example of him to the others.

And for a wee girl, it was frightening.

Sela was old enough to know that humans were bad. They were weak and could not be trusted. She was brought up to believe that her father was kind to the humans, showing them mercy and providing for them in spite of the fact they were unworthy.

General Morak's estate had many labourers - human, Reman, and Klingon. They were the spoils of war, captured by Morak during his numerous conquests.

He burned through them like fuel.

They were both forced slave labour that helped maintain the General's lavish lifestyle and entertainment. Whenever he was furious, looking to celebrate, or just bored, Morak took pleasure in tormenting his slaves.

And his daughter was raised to believe that her father was merely maintaining the natural order of things.

"Sela, you need to turn around," her guardian whispered.

Her guardian was a human.

When Sela was very young, this guardian saved her from an assassination attempt – an act that endeared this guardian to General Morak.

Sela didn't know his name. Nor did she understand why this human was so dedicated to protecting her.

She simply called him 'Lilo.'

And when her father was not looking, he called her 'Lala' and they would both giggle.

He was always present, carrying Sela around place to place and guarding her while she had her lessons. She was a pampered young thing – even in spite of the harsh upbringing that is the standard for Romulan children.

Tutors would come and go. But her guardian was always there.

Sela liked his wavy hair. Romulans didn't have wavy hair.