cmdrlaren

[cmdrlaren]

i'm still working on a carrd and such but go here for the rundown in the meantime

[cmdrlaren]

when i was seven years old, i was given a piece of sugar candy and i was led by a cardassian into a room where my father was sitting. and he looked at me with eyes i'd never seen. the cardassian began to ask him questions. and during the next two hours - as i was forced to watch - my father was tortured until he died. and i remember feeling... so ashamed of him as he begged for mercy. i was ashamed of him for being weak. i was ashamed of being bajoran. later i began to understand how misguided those feelings were, and... and yet somehow, they have remained a part of me. i don't want to be ashamed of my heritage any longer. i serve the federation. but i am bajoran.

RO LAREN of STAR TREK, by zanza.

[cmdrlaren]

extensive rehabilitation. that's what they'd called it, right? no, that's not even a question, because she's utterly certain that's exactly what'd been said... at least fifty times. part of her wonders silently if there might've been some less-than-discreet bet underway, promising whomever managed to utter those buzzwords more than anyone else some prize that surely can't be worth the sanity it's cost her. for a while she'd tried to pin down what it might be, simply to add a little excitement to her day, but that hadn't lasted especially long and before she'd known it the meeting had been over.

before she'd known it? laren had found herself on a transport ship, seeking out a corner with less chance of disturbance than the rest and settling in. that'd been more or less the spot she'd spent the last ten days in, when she couldn't get away with curling up in her quarters. luckily, most other passengers have been more than willing to leave her be and those who hadn't felt similarly? they'd learned quickly enough when she'd simply ignored them... with an instance of snarling and snapping once or twice.

finally they've arrived, and as keen as she might be to stretch her legs... there's an undeniable hindrance as she pauses just inside the station. bajorans. there are bajorans everywhere -- something she'd tried with considerable effort to pretend not to realize at the notice she'd be sent to ds9. there are bajorans everywhere, and if starfleet isn't fond of her... if they've sent her here only having realized that she might do them some good... how are her own people going to respond?

more importantly... what'd happened to the days where she'd been so easily able to pretend to be untouched by the thoughts and feelings of others? what the hell has time done to her, exactly?

no, no, that's territory too dangerous to tread upon, so she takes a deep breath and makes her way to operations -- to the station commander's office -- and she can only hope this either goes as poorly as she expects or... well, surprises have come her way before, but not a great many of them have been good, so there's no chance she's about to hold her breath that this might go well. the door slides open, she steps forward and waits until it's closed, takes another breath and addresses @colnerys with as much neutrality as she can muster, "ro laren, reporting as ordered, sir,"

[cmdrlaren]

i'm going iconless for the moment bc i have exactly zero energy for anything let alone graphics but uh... hit the heart for a starter lmk if you want it based on tng, ds9-era, my 'ro's first officer of voy' verse, or pic!