A cruel wind cackled at the cavemouth, stretching long talons into the mediocre sanctuary that raked at the loose stones. Rana sat alone, huddled in the shadowed corner with her knees pressed to her forehead, her floral dress dripping with tears. Beyond the wide stone maw, the sound of a crackling fire filled the valley as the wide orange boughs cried out in suffering; the scent of burning wood thick on the vicious wind. Her throat ragged from crying, chest tight from running, Rana looked to see the form of Brynn standing in the cold white light.

“The whole valley?” he whispered, his throat cracking. 

“And more.” She wiped the tears away, only for more to rush in to take their place. A long silence filled the small cave, the air thick with unspoken sadness. “I never saw another Sisrex after that day. My entire family…” she choked once more on the last word. “I have been alone ever since.”

“Your friends on Daedalus?” Brynn probed.

“Are kind and loving.” She paused, an painful statement hovering on the tip of her tounge. “But they will never understand what happened to me. They are friends by our proximity. Nothing more.” A long silence of an uncomfortable confession pressed against her temples. 

“These Jem’Hadar seem terrible, a plague unleashed by uncaring gods.” Brynn continued to stare out into the smoking valley. “You must hate them so much.”

Rana stood, steadying herself against the cold stone wall as she pulled her blouse close to her, the mocking wind swiping at her barely clad skin. “The Jem’Hadar aren’t anything. I spent many years thinking them cruel, sadistic creatures from far beyond civilised space. I would dream of bashing in their skulls and wearing a crown of their horns as I hunted across the stars. I would wake filled with rage.” She took a deep breath at the memory of the deep set fury; the recent incident in the Deneb sector had allowed her to re-asses a great deal of her previously held beliefs about the Dominion. “But I’ve come to realise they are like a force of nature.” She crossed to Brynn, laying a hand on the back of his waist as she looked up into his eyes. “I cannot hate them more than I could hate the river that breaks its banks.” 

Brynn turned to look at her, his own eyes filled with tears, collecting in nook of his ocular implant. “They took everything from you.”

“They didn’t even know I had anything to take.” Her own tears continued to flow. “They did not even know we existed.” They shared a quiet moment as he attempted to stem the endless resevoir of her sadness. She motioned outwards into the valley, “This was all just collateral damage from the raging river.”

She turned her head to follow her bruised and dirt covered arms, expecting to see the scarred landscape of burning orange trees, which for almost 30 years had hung large in her subconscious. Instead she found an unfamiliar landscape, a wide circular depression in the landscape of pale brown rocks criss-crossed with weapons fire, a ragged bowl where the very ground had been torn from the planet. Around the artificial valley the skeletal remnants of homesteads clung to the cliff face, once busy squares and market places now shattered against cold unforgiving titanic walls. Beyond the edge of the bowel lay the ruins of towering skyscrapers and icons of utopia, gleaming silver mausoleums that caught the light and cast it out in a thousand directions, delicate rainbows criss-crossing the ghostly city.  High in the blue sky a great black geometric shadow hung, slowly moving away from the planet surface into orbit.

“This is not Betazed.” Rana whispered, realising the pain in her chest was not entirely her own.

“No.” Brynn felt the lump in his throat swell as he struggled with the truth. “This is the Brunali homeworld. This was the day I was torn from everyone I loved and I watched through the eyes of the collective as they ended my life.” He continued to look out on the smoking bowl that had once been his home, backdrop to days of chasing friends through green fields and nights spent around the table with his mothers sweet, delicious poma. “We are both victims of uncaring storms Rana. The Jem’Hadar, The Borg, the great dust storms and unrelenting monsoons. The uncaring universe sought to keep us alone.” 

Rana took his hand in hers grasping it tightly, her fingers interlocking with his as they mentally shared their bittersweet memories of home. A vision of a smiling mother as she lay down her festive dinner following the harvest, a congratulatory clap echoing around the busy, family filled room. The hysterical laughter of sisters as they fell about on silk cushions, throwing candy and sweet treats into their mouths as they giggled secrets of their genetic sorority. Their father’s silent hand on the shoulder as they buried the family pet far out in the fields, the small mound of dirt rising gently from the land that was now further nourished with love.  The calming heartbeat of their mother as she carried them to bed, having fallen asleep on the veranda in the warm summer air, charting the movement of stars and planets. The quiet whispering of twin brothers who ingeniously hid behind the large water pot at the far end of the garden, unaware that their shuffling feet were visible through the gaps in the frame. The touch of cold metal beneath your feet as you danced wildly across the kitchen, singing full throated to the radio with an eccentric aunt. The sound of your father crying into this brothers chest when he found his own father had died.

“The universe was unsuccessful.” She squeezed his hand once more. 

Between heaving breaths Brynn squeezed her hand in return. “Indeed it was.” 

Silent tears rolled down their cheeks as their minds raced through memories, long held close to heart to fend off loneliness. 

“Come Rana. I wish to show you something.” He began to walk, pulling her still entwined hand alongside. 

As the two rounded the corner, the vision of the broken valley passed away in favour of green light filtering through obsidian bulkheads. The bitter taste of burning happiness gave way to the cold scent of filtered air and whirring machinery. 

“Here.” Brynn began entering a code on the wall a panel, causing several large locks to slide back into the wall, the layers of the door peeling away with each password. As the final lock fell away, silently clicking into its recess the door slid aside revealing a long room, dimly lit by the central flickering row of dim lights. Along each wall dark vestibules fell into the dark bulkheads, green arcs of light skittered across the shadowed room, illuminating armoured bodies recessed into rows of alcoves along the wall, their pale skin casting them as stone gargoyles along the long parade. 

“I have a new family for us.” Brynn offered, smiling as the two of them looked out on the endlessly curving room, filled with silent inactive Borg drones.