This file is background information regarding Lo'ren T'Vof. Refer to her main profile for current information regarding her status in Starfleet. The following stories are recollections given by Lo'ren and her parents at various times.
All the following material are the intellectual property of Lori Winterhoff.
Ari Sia of Bajor and Dr. Tarven of Vulcan
Ari Sia in the Mines
"Keep working!" Glinn Demak yelled at their backs as he stalked the line. Ari Sia swung her tool at the tunnel wall again and again. The Cardassian was fuming, the quota had not been met for weeks and the Legates from Cardassian Central Command were badgering him.
Demak glared at the Bajoran workers, seeming to make it their fault that the dilithium was not coming. Sia knew - just as well as he did - that this mine was now dry, but Central Command didn't care about that. They wouldn't let the work stop long enough to find a new deposit, that would give the Bajorans time to start a revolt.
The officer marched along the line, slowing behind Elis Tam. Tam stumbled and Demak's face warped into a sneer that could only be described as evil. Ari Sia watched the weapon go up. She couldn't stand to watch another beating and do nothing.
Demak stopped with his arm high above his head, startled. In the intervening lull - with the whole work team watching - Ari Sia placed herself between the Cardassian and Elis Tam, pushing her work mate well away.
Demak locked eyes with her. "Move." That one word, hissed as it was, was as menacing at it could get. She trembled, but she held her ground. His eyes flashed fire as he screamed at her defiance.
Demak resumed his swing, adjusting the trajectory of his weapon. Sia heard, but somehow didn't feel, her knee blowing out and her leg shattering. Blow after blow rained down, pulverising her leg and cracking ribs. Just as she blacked out after a blow to the head she saw a Gul come around the corner and catch the weapon in mid-swing.
Dr. Tarven the Medic
Outwardly to anyone who looked, he was calm. Inwardly Tarven was feverish as he worked to save the woman on the table. As thouroughly shattered from top to bottom as she was, it was almost impossible, what with the tools he had - outdated as they were. If he could allow himself to feel anger, Tarven would get very angry that they wouldn't allow new equipment.
The angry Cardassian who had dumped her with him had stated that equipment had fallen on her. Tarven was in doubt of that. "These wounds appear to have been caused by repeated strikes with a blunt object." The Vulcan Doctor spoke aloud, there was no one to respond to him and therefore he could not be harmed for stating his opinion in such a way. It would obviously be construed as a slight on the Cardassian who had inflicted the damage, quite possibly the one who brought her in.
Many times since his arrival on Bajor had Tarven come across such excuses. The Cardassians didn't really care about the Bajoran workers, they only cared that they worked, and to work they needed to be healthy... enough. The call for outside medical help had come and Tarven had responded. He had not been allowed on the planet until it was verified that he was an indepedant - not affiliated with any governing body such as the UFP. Since that time, several months ago, Tarven had worked, alone, in primitive conditions.
The woman squirmed under his hands. She was unconscious, and her body was acting involuntarily but he understood how uncomfortable she must be. He applied a dose of painkiller with his outdated hypospray and continued his work.
Weeks of Recovery Become the Foundation.
Ari Sia watched the thin, sandy haired man as he worked. After several weeks being under his ministrations, she could see in his face what most could not. The worker who had come in had walked in under his own power and the wound was minor. Tarven was relieved, he was also tired.
"Miss Ari, please get me some bandages. I require some for this wound." Sia smiled slightly. She knew his aim was to get her to walk, stretching the muscles in her leg and get her blood flowing where the medical equipment couldn't quite reach. She nodded, limped across the room, and retrieving the bandages, she brought them to the Doctor. She placed them on the table beside him.
"I also require a healing salve, not one for burns however." Some people thought he was brusk in his manner, Sia could hear the kindness underneath though. After all, he was a healer.
She was reaching the end of her flagging strength as she brought him the container. His fingers touched hers as he took the salve. Sia felt a slight jolt. ~Must be my imagination.~ She thought to herself. ~Or perhaps I'm making too much of my own feelings.~
Tarven of Vulcan let his mind wander slightly as he tended the minor wound. He was thinking of asking the Cardassians to let him train a nurse. Ari Sia was of little use in the mines now, with the amount of injury she had sustained. She would be ideal; also, she seemed to be able to work past his logical exterior, saying or doing things that helped him more than one could guess. He, if a Vulcan could be said to appreciate, appreciated her manner with the patients and with himself.
"Dr. Tarven, I'm spent." Her voice, as tired as it sounded was still alive, and it could bring him nearly to break his emotional barriers. Tarven finished his work, nodded at the tired Bajoran worker, indicating that he could leave, and turned to Ari Sia.
"Perhaps you should sit then, I believe there are no more patients today and I am able to locate the rations. I requested an extra supply of rations as your recovery has become far extended from what I predicted."
Sia smiled a little, "Thank you Doctor Tarven, I suppose I will sit for a while."
Love Runs Hot
Tarven was sweating. He felt wild. He struggled to maintain his composure. He had to maintain discipline lest he fail to serve the Bajorans who now trusted him to care for them as they would one of their own.
"Good Morning, Doctor." The voice broke through the haze of emotions boiling beneath the surface. He faced her, chest heaving. Ari Sia - he was now fighting to maintain decorum- let alone discipline.
Sia stopped, something was strange about Tarven today, in fact he had gotten increasingly odd over the last few days. Her concern for him overruled the unspoken commitment of professionalism they shared "Tarven? What is wrong? Are you all right?"
The Vulcan shook his head, almost afraid to speak. She continued, taking a step forward, "What is it? Can I help?"
Tarven's eyes flashed - she was dangerously close to being taken by him without her permission. He grabbed a writing tool and hurridly, violently wrote [I am experiencing Pon Farr, the Blood Fever. I must mate or die. I would choose you. Would you choose me?] It was as much as he could give her - he would have her by force if necesary. Tarven did indeed love her and he wished her to be happy in this, not forced.
Sia read quickly the note shoved at her. Her heart leapt, she had wondered if her feelings were reciprocated, but the barriers had been too complete for her to even think to broach the subject. "Tarven," her eyes glistened with tears as her voice sunk into a whisper, "I have worked with you for a long time now. I have come to care for you deeply. I love you and don't want you to die. Am I truly the one you would choose?"
All he could allow himself was a nod. His voice would not work. She could see tears in his eyes, could see his barriers crumbling in the fire of this Blood Fever.
Her voice strained with worry, fear, and love she blurted the question, "I do choose you! What must I do?" They locked eyes and in that instant they both knew they would forever be husband and wife. The official ceremonies could take place later. He lifted his right hand, two fingers extended and held his left hand out to her. Sia understood, she limped forward and let him guide her fingers to touch his in the correct manner. His face flooded with relief, Tarven moved closer letting his fingers move instinctually, tracing her hand and bringing his other hand to touch her face.
He croaked out the words until his voice was in her head and they spoke as one. "My mind to your mind. Your thoughts to ::my thoughts. We are together. Our minds are parted but never apart. You are my Telsu pudvel-tor (Chosen Mate). My k'hat'n'dlawa (Other Half-Soul/Heart). We are one::
Ari Sia felt her mind expand to include Tarven's in this most intimate of touches. She reached out with her heart and cooled the fires that coursed in his blood, cooled him long enough to survive the day. At the end of the day they would come together again.
A new life before it's begun.
Sia wiped tears from her eyes, He had found a way. She had begged him for years for this.
"K'diwa (Beloved), it will be dangerous." He held her eyes with his. Held her soul with his heart.
"I know." She whispered, unable to bring herself to speak louder, "I still would choose this, husband." She leaned her head against his chest. Being alone at night had it's advantages.
He nodded, "I will prepare us both for this. It will not be easy, but we will make it successful. The child must be within you for longer than you would be prepared for. Vulcan children gestate for 10 months, Bajoran children for 5. We must attempt at least something between the two."
She let out a breath, "I don't care about that Tarven. I'll do whatever it takes." Sia wanted a child and she didn't care how long it would take for her to give her husband a baby. If she needed to have the child within her for longer, she would do it.
He was tender as he brushed his hand across her face, letting his mind ghost into hers a little more firmly than the usual mental link they shared. ::Rest now, my love. It will be done.::
She only drifted off to sleep herself when his breathing was deep and even in sleep.
Working under the Cardassians.
Starting with a New Supervisor.
Her nose itched, the ridges itched terribly and now there was a bead of sweat running down her cheek. She dared not fidget though. The new snakey would catch her in the act and cuff her good. Like the others in the group she moved nary a muscle, but stared at nothing while Glinn Hesth paced in front of them.
“You are children, and I, a celebrated veteran have been assigned,” He spat out the words at them, “to keep guard over you.” He stopped in front of Lo'ren and sneered. “The half-breed.”
He grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her to front and centre before the remaining 11 children. He spun her around, “This one is smaller than the rest of you. She is not Bajoran, but she is here with you. Why? Because her species is superior to yours. Bajorans are nothing! This half-breed is two years your junior and still has the capacity to work as you do.”
Hesth shoved her and she squawked as she felt to the ground. Hesth laughed at her distress as she whimpered, her knees bleeding from the stones that had cut into her knees at the impact. Shoving her with a boot, Hesth ordered her up. “Stand half-breed. You are not exempt from that because you scrape your itsy bitsy little knees.” His disdain for his position curdled the air around him as he smirked at her.
Lo'ren wobbled to her feet and tried to still her sniffles, green smearing her legs. Hesth looked over the line of Bajoran 6 year olds and back at the 4 year old half Vulcan child. He chuckled menacingly. He knew he was under orders not to purposely injure the child. The off-world medics were watched and catered to – to a degree. Instead Hesth vowed to break her spirit.
He menaced the group, saying “Each of you will come and spit on this half-breed. Her people are arrogant and you will teach her a lesson. She is worthless – even to you.” Hesth hefted his disruptor, making clear his intentions should any of them refuse.
The silence was palpable and as each child came before Lo'ren, they exchanged a look that seemed to say, “I'm sorry.”
Tears brimmed over as she stood there, spittle glistening on her cheeks. She understood enough to know that Hesth would beat her if she moved her hand to wipe away the muck. As it was, her knees throbbed and she could barely stand. ~Mama. Mama.~ Lo'ren trembled as she cried inside, wishing for her mother to be able to rock her.
Eshen Joser was the last. He stopped in front of her, and instead of spitting on her as haad every other of them, Joser reached out with a sleeve and wiped her face clean. Lo'ren, shocked did nothing but blink back with her mouth open in mute reply.
She felt the disruptor blast wizz past and the concussion as it hit Joser, spraying her with crimson blood before disintegrating the boy at the molecular level. She screamed.
Another Day of Pain.
Warning: The following scene may offend some readers. Discretion advised.
The ugly, slimy Cardassian was right in her face. His breath stank of kanaar and Lo'ren fought against wrinkling her nose, knowing it would only bring her worse than what she would receive otherwise.
"You know... I like you girly." His words were slurred as he drew her closer, roughly handling her in all the wrong ways. Lo'ren continued to stare at the floor. She deserved her treatment and he would exact what he wanted. Lo'ren had learned not to fight when Tark called her to his rooms.
"It's your ears, they're so... exotic." He chuckled as he tugged on one, trying to get a reaction from his little subject. Lo'ren made no move, knowing that her heritage, that she was at fault in this.
She spoke blandly, no emotion colouring her words - either with fear, disgust or acceptance. "Yes, Gul Tark. I am too tempting because I am different." She spouted the words that had been brain washed into her for several months.
He punched her in the side of the head for that. "You didn't have permission to speak!" he growled at her as he spun her around. He held her by the neck as he prepared to meet out her punishment. Bile began to rise in her throat but the 7 year old girl swallowed it before it came up. ~Dear Prophets, it's my fault.~ Her mind shut down as Tark started into what he felt was his right.
Glinn Hareth glared at their backs as they worked. He was always in a foul mood. He had been relegated to supervise a children's work group and felt he was being punished for some unknown discretion.
Lo'ren kept her head down and worked diligently. She didn't want Snakeface to notice her again.
Hareth watched the children, including the one with the ears. he didn't trust any of them and suspected them to be terrorists. He stalked behind them, watching for anything out of line. A Gil came and whispered in his ear. More equipment had broken down.
"Half-breed, get over here." Hareth never called Lo'ren by name, prefering to degrade her by calling her half-breed or mongrel.
She placed her tools carefully and moved in front of the Glinn. He watched her every move. "Go with him," Hareth shoved a thumb at the waiting Gil. "You're the smallest and some equipment needs repair." Lo'ren was the smallest of the group, the rest of the children were 7 or 8, Lo'ren was 6 but very smart and made to work with them.
She followed the Cardassian out of the workroom and down the hall. He stopped in front of a large peice of excavation equipment and pointed to the access hatch. Peering in she saw the snapping electric charges and grasped the danger. As there was no other choice, she climbed in, pushing a tool kit before her.
As she worked the wires snapped and sizzled around her, she reached for another tool. Just at that moment a wire dislodged itself, dropping its end onto her toolbox. The plasma charge leaped up her arm, running from her fingers up to her temple.
She screamed, dropped her tool and blacked out.
Safe in Daddy's Arms
She whimpered, not wanting to open her eyes. She feared the nightmare and could still feel the plasma rippling up her arm. Lo'ren tried to burrow herself further into the warmth and safety that encircled her.
"Is she waking up?" Her mother's concerned voice filtered through her fuzzy head, the strain present in her voice belied the danger Lo'ren had been in and the heat of her motherly anger at the Cardassians who would force a child to work. The only things that kept Ari Sia from actively joining the Resistance were Tarven, Lo'ren and the thought that more people would die if the Medic's Hut shut down.
"She is." Her father's deep voice didn't come to her ears, but rather she felt its rumble, balled up against his chest as she was. His heartbeat filled her senses, comforting her. His warmth was a welcome relief from the shocking cold of electric blue plasma.
She startled awake and clutched at him, "Daddy!" She was in a panic, fearful of the pain, fearful of the death that could have claimed her. A six-year-old mind shouldn't be subjected to what she had just gone through.
The tall, quiet Vulcan doctor whispered to her as he held her close, "You are safe, little one. They brought you to me, you are safe." The strong, clear, calm voice reached past the fear that was making her fight for her very life against even her father's touch. He repeated the words until she had calmed and then Tarven brought their daughter over to her mother.
Ari Sia rocked her daughter and sang a rare lullaby to her, tears following freely in thanks to the Prophets for saving her life. Through the touch of her mother, Lo'ren could still feel the whispers of her father's mind, she could sense the concern that he would show no one but his chosen wife and his daughter.
As Lo'ren drifted off, she heared her parents talking about her bandages and the scar that would be left. Lo'ren could feel those bandages pulling at her skin from her hand all the way up her left arm to her temple.
Starfleet has Arrived
Something Strange About to happpen
Lo’ren was running in the dusty flat space between the houses. It wasn’t fit to be called a road, but it was the main thoroughfare in the camp and was loosely regarded as “Main Street”. It was a strange thing to be outside and not have to avoid the scowling Cardassians. There were a few brave Paghs who were out like Lo’ren, though most were more cautious than she.
Lo’ren flitted about in a perfect imitation of her mother’s nickname for her – Little Bird. Occasionally, another child would come up and they would play for a few minutes before the child’s parents would come and drag them back inside, worried that somehow the Snakeskins would be back and take them all away. Set them to work again.
Lo’ren’s parents had no such qualms. Her father didn’t have much in the way of communications systems but he did know how to rig up a medical scanner to sound the alarm if there were any life signs other than Bajoran – he had input his own and Lo’ren’s life signs individually to eliminate them from the scanner.
Now Lo’ren was free to roam and explore in the way a child ought to be allowed. She was twirling in the middle of the open area when she felt something very strange that could only mean the Snakeskins were coming back. She stopped her playful spin and ran headlong into one of the few bushes able to conceal her properly and watched. She could still feel the ozone feeling crawling on her skin.
Lo’ren blinked. She rubbed her eyes. She stared. This was no Snakeskinned Cardassian back to harass the Bajorans, but she didn’t know who it was.
Eric Larson looked around. ~Another dismal camp. Bleak and dusty – those Cardassians really did a number on this poor planet.~
He spotted Aresh down the way and nodded, keeping the silence required by their training. Eric would have felt better if they`d been allowed phaser rifles, but the big wigs didn`t want to scare the Bajoran people. The only reason Eric and his team had any kind of weapon was the anomalous readings of two Vulcans on the planet – and one of them was hazy at that.
He tapped into the comm system, “This is Lt. Larson, report in.” He heard the momentary chatter over the open comm as his team checked in – all reporting no activity. Just then he felt a tug at his pant leg. Lieutenant Eric Larson looked down into the quizzical eyes of a Bajoran child, but there was something odd about the slight figure staring up at him with large green eyes. ~Upswept eyebrows? On a Bajoran?~ He stared, taken aback by the exotic combination.
“Hello, who are you?” The child chirruped at him, both cautious and buoyant in her speech.
Contact and Meeting
Lo`ren watched for a couple of seconds. This “Lyoo-ten-ent Lar-son” sounded friendly enough. She exited her hiding spot and quietly came up beside him. He didn`t take any notice of her and so she tugged at his pant leg as she stared up at him. ~He looks like Father – but he doesn`t have ears like father.~
When he looked down at her she almost didn`t say anything, but then she realized that she had been the one to tug at his leg.
“Hello, who are you?” She kept her voice clear and happy, not letting him know how frightened she truly was.
Eric Larson knelt down next to Lo`ren and stared at her. Lo`ren started to squirm. Then he smiled and in awkward Bajoran said, “I`m Eric Larson. I`m from Starfleet. Can you take me to see your parents?”
Lo`ren looked at him, she had heard her father mention Starfleet once or twice in her life. She wasn`t sure if they were helpful or not but she figured Father would know what to do. She nodded and tugged his hand so that he would follow. Lo`ren took off running, but then remembered herself and waited for Eric Larson.
The man in the gold uniform got up and followed her, she set out again at a slower pace. She hadn`t even reached the Medic`s Hut – they lived behind it in a small two room house – when Father came out and looked at her quizzically. “Daughter? Who is now in the village?” At that moment Tarven of Vulcan saw the officer strolling up.
“Greetings Lieutenant, I am Doctor Tarven of Vulcan. May I assume your presence means the Cardassians have given up all claims to the Bajoran system?”
Introduction to the Conservatory
For a more detailed listing of songs Lo'ren has sung, refer to Music by Lo'ren.
Lo'ren had never heard anything so beautiful. She stood completely still and let the wind whisper beauty to her. The leaves spoke to each other, the branches danced and laughed with the wind - as if they were being tickled - and a Haren bird sang out joyously.
Ari Sia smiled down at her daughter with the alien ears. There were so many things denied to all the children of Bajor for so long, it was sheer joy to watch Lo'ren sway and dance with the wind. Sia walked with a distinct limp - a gift from the Cardassians - but still she took the moment and danced with the graceful child, her movements fluid with music.
Ari Lo'ren T'Vof cha'Tarven and her parents had come to the fledgling - brand new, in fact - Rakantha Music Conservatory for a concert. The first major one since the Cardassians had left. Ari Sia was to be one of the main performers and Lo'ren would sing with her mother in one song. Lo'ren stopped for a moment, watching the uniformed Starfleet officers milling about, politely making conversation amongst themselves and with the Clerics and other Bajorans present. Her eyes followed the gold uniforms. ~They came to help us, they saved us after the Cardassians left.~
"Well, daughter, are you prepared?" The stern-faced Vulcan looked down at his daughter, interrupting her thoughts.
The willowy girl smiled up at her father. "Yes, Father, I am prepared."
The tall, intelligent Doctor Tarven of Vulcan had the whisper of a smile on his face. His stoic discipline had eroded slightly in his long time on Bajor, and he allowed his daughter to read the pride in his face. Lo'ren T'Vof let her smile grow wider in response. She may have been T'Vof to her father and Lo'ren to her mother, but they never let her be without the knowledge that they loved her deeply.
Ari Sia briefly touched her finger tips to Dr. Tarven's, "Husband, I and our daughter must go now." Sia had grown used to this formal way of speaking over many years. She understood how much it meant to him, especially now that Starfleet had come and Vulcans were a bit more plentiful.
Dr. Tarven nodded and moved to speak with an officer in a blue uniform as Ari Sia beckoned Lo'ren to follow her to the rehearsal hall for a warm up.
After the Concert
Lo'ren climbed up a tree. The branches were perfect for a ten-year-old to climb. She was compelled to do it, no child faced with a tree like this would turn down the opportunity. She found a branch and settled herself. She saw those Gold uniforms again and watched them. ~Starfleet... they are heroes. They helped us.~
Lo'ren had seen her father in the crowd as she sang. He had been proud of her, she could tell. She had kept her eyes on him most of the time, too nervous to look anywhere else. She had noted every time he had adjusted his glasses - an ancient device he prefered over the corrective procedures he could choose from for his distance vision. Momma had been very proud too, she had clapped the loudest as Lo'ren left the stage after their duet.
Lo'ren had enjoyed the musical portion of the evening, but when the conversations started, she found herself bored and had gone exploring when she discovered the tree she was now perched in. She sat back and listened to the Haren birds calling to each other. They sounded like the lullabies her mother sang to her. Lo'ren asked to be sung to every night, she loved the lullabies - a rare luxury, all too often missed during the Occupation. Now, Lo'ren asked, just so she could go to sleep feeling safe and knowing the Cardassians wouldn't come back.
"Lo'ren, come down." Her mother was at the base of the tree, looking up at her. "Come, I want you to meet Master Tesel."
Lo'ren clambered down the tree and followed her mother, off to meet a man who would become her guide and compatriot in passion for music.