[Backpost] Idris Oren, Part 2

Posted on 30 Nov 2014 @ 8:46pm by Lieutenant Oren Idris Ph.D.

1,956 words; about a 10 minute read

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The first time Oren saw another child that looked like him was the day his little brother, Dejen, was born. It was also the first time he felt like he finally wasn't alone in the world anymore.

---

[Bajor, 2320]

"Why does he look like a red lizard?"

"Oren!" his father chastised, putting his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud after Nomula gave him a pointed look.

"What? He does!"

"All babies look like this when they're born, Oren," Riaan explained, but the little boy just gave him a dubious look.

"I didn't look like this. If I did, I wouldn't look this pretty now," Oren argued instead, shaking his head at both of his parents for having such delusional ideas.

"Well, I can't argue with that logic, can you?"

Nomula shook her head in response to her husband's question, trying to keep a straight face before looking down at the bundle in her arms. Hours old, the little boy was staring up at his mother with wide, blue eyes while his older brother stared down at him with the same fascinated expression.

The small family remained together, chatting quietly for another hour or so before Nomula finally felt herself beginning to nod off. Riaan placed his hand on Oren's shoulder, nudging him towards the door. "Come on. Let's leave mom and Dejen to rest," he whispered, watching both his wife and his new son struggle to stay awake. Gently, he took the baby from her and placed him in the crib nearby before giving Nomula a soft kiss that soon became much more passionate than either expected, all the love and pent up frustrations of the past few days making their way into it. Breaking away to catch their breath, the two lovers pressed their foreheads together briefly before Riaan kissed his wife's cheek with a soft goodbye.

Turning to the side of the bed, he caught Oren staring down at the baby once more. Smiling at the boy, he made his way over before kneeling down next to him to look at Dejen together.

"What do you think? Ready to be a big brother?" Riaan asked, running his fingers through Oren's hair.

Not looking away from the baby, Oren just nodded. "When can I play with him?"

"Not for a while."

"Oh," Oren frowned, pursing his lips. "That's alright," he finally said after a moment, shrugging his lips in a 'What can you do?' gesture. "I can wait. We're gonna be best friends, so it's okay to wait."

"I thought Kala was your best friend."

"She is," Oren admitted. "But she's not like me. I can't talk to her the way I can with you or mom. And now I can talk to someone else." He looked down at his little brother again.

Riaan just nodded understandingly. He knew it was hard for his son to live with children so different from himself. Despite their best efforts to fit in, it always felt unnatural, being away from your own kind, even if you were never with your own kind. It was like a genetic memory telling you that where you are isn't where you're supposed to be and your own nature could never quite synch up to that of the species around you. It was just what being El-Aurian was like, now that the homeworld was gone. Riaan was just happy Dejen was with them now, and neither of his sons would have to grow up completely alone.

"He's not sleeping in my room!" Oren argued once they left the room and entered the corridor leading to the hospital's exit. Riaan laughed, shaking his head.

"I wouldn't think of it," he reassured him, running his hand through the boy's hair once again.

---

Months passed and Oren's captivation with his brother didn't waver. If anything, he seemed more taken by Dejen after a year than he had been on the day of his birth. He carried him everywhere, insistent that it was his duty as big brother to teach the little boy about everything, from the right dirt to built sandcastles from to how to properly pose in one of his mother's new creations without getting impaled during careless tacking.

"See, Dejen? You just twitch before she tacks you then she's more careful," Oren babbled on to the toddler, who was staring at his brother, as if hanging on every word. At one year old, Dejen had a curly mop of red hair growing wildly on his head and large, baby blue eyes set it an pale face otherwise covered in a mass of freckles. He was an oddly quiet child, as if he was trying to cancel out his brothers incessant droning.

"Stop moving your arms around, Oren, or I'll tack you on purpose," Nomula told the restless boy who was standing on an elevated area in her studio. He calmed down for only a moment before going off on another tirade. At the last moment, before he began waving his arms again, Nomula managed to temporarily stick together the last part of his outfit. "There," she said finally, moving away to get a better look at him.

Jumping briefly in excitement, Oren twirled around at his mother's insistence a few times, letting her see the outfit from all angles.

"I like it," she declared, nodding at her creation.

"Can I see?" Without waiting for a reply, the child jumped off the platform and made a mad dash towards the floor length mirror. Standing in front of it, Oren looked at himself for a long, quiet moment, turning and posing the way his mother taught him.

"What do you think?" Nomula asked from her place against the wall.

He turned to look up at her, reaching up to push his bangs out of his eyes.
"I like it," he said, mimicking his mother's expression from before. He glanced at his little brother. "What do you think?" The baby said nothing, naturally, just smiled at his brother the way he always did when spoken to.

"He agrees," Oren said to his mother, nodding before looking back at his reflection, his hand still in his tousled hair. Noting his struggle, his mother took one of the starry hairpins from her own red hair and went to him. Shooing his small hand away, Nomula twisted one of his long, blond locks away from his face, pinning it above his ear.

Standing back, she watched Oren suddenly stand a little straighter, admiring his new look. Leaning in towards the mirror, she watched him touch at the hairpin delicately, as if it would break from being mishandled. He smiled up at her.

"It's pretty," he said softly, looking up at her almost shyly now. Smiling down at him, Nomula kissed his hair soundly before going over to gather her supplies. In the meantime, Oren walked up to his brother and sat down next to him. Turning to look at them, Nomula saw Oren lifting Dejen out of his playpen.

"What are you doing?" she asked, fighting the urge to run over and make sure Oren was being careful with his sibling. There was no need, as Oren seemed to handle Dejen with a delicacy she wouldn't have imagined possible by a seven year old.

"I'm going to see Kala," Oren said, settling his brother onto his feet. Or trying to.
Walking over to them, Nomula helped steady the baby of the two. He'd only begun to walk a few months ago and was still getting used to being stable for long periods of time.

"I wanna take Dejen with me," Oren explained before she could ask.

"Why? Don't you want to be alone with Kala sometimes. Didn't you say she didn't like you spending so little time with her lately?"

Oren frowned. "That's why I'm trying to fix it."

"Well, maybe you should leave Dejen here," she suggested.

"Why?"

Nomula was at a loss, unable to find a reason for the baby to stay home. He'd already eaten and had his nap. And Oren knew it.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head.

"Kala's sad, so I'm gonna go over and play," Oren explained, taking off the modeling outfit.

"Her daddy went away to work in the capital," he added.

Nomula frowned. She knew what that meant - the Cardassians were an ever evolving presence on Bajor and it was a public secret that people who questioned their intent sometimes disappeared. Going away to work somewhere far was a way to let the children know without really letting them know what was going on. Nomula immediately felt sorry for Kala, having to grow up without a father. Her mother had already died giving birth and now she would have to be taken in by her grandmother, a bitter old woman who spent more time peeking through her drapes at the neighborhood and praying than taking care of anyone.

But, such was life.

"Mom?" Breaking out of her thoughts, Nomula looked down at Oren's confused, young face.

"Are you okay?"

She forced a smile on her face. "I'm fine, sweetheart," he assured him.

"Where are you three going to play? By the school?"

"No." Oren shook his head. "There's a new girl there. She's mean."

"Oh?" Nomula asked, intrigued. Bajorans were always so mild mannered, she couldn't imagine their children (or adults, for that manner) being purposefully cruel. It was one of the many reasons she and Riaan had chosen Bajor to raise their family.

"Yeah. She's...Cor...uh..."

"Cardassian," Nomula supplied, voice cool.

Oren nodded. "She looks scary," he admitted, looking down as he played with the buttons of his shirt.

"How is she mean?"

"She calls everyone names and pushes us around."

"Did you tell the teachers?" Nomula knew it was a stupid question, but she had to ask. The teachers wouldn't have been able to do anything. Few pushed back against the Cardassians. The Bajoran mild mannered nature had its downfall.

Oren shrugged noncommittally. "No one does anything. I once argued with her, but everyone told me not to," he admitted after a few moments of silence. Nomula's eyes widened.

"Why would you do that?" she asked, shocked.

"No one else was saying anything! She called Kala names, and then pushed Mirah into the sandbox, so I told her to stop."

"Oren, that's no way to behave. You could learn a lesson from everyone else."

"What? To just shut up and take it?" he shot back and Nomula felt something tug at her insides and the reminder that, no matter how much time Oren seemed to spend with Bajorans, he wasn't one. He was a fighter, and a survivor, just like the rest of their people. It shouldn't surprise her that he would wish to fight back. But it didn't mean she had to approve. Maybe there was a way to fix this.

"Oren," she began, kneeling in front of him. Dejen waddled his way over to her, holding onto her knee for support.

"Sometimes, you need to pick your battles. Arguing with the Cardassians won't make anything better. You should look to what the Bajorans are doing. Don't let someone's bad words bring you down." It was a weak argument and even Oren knew it. Even at such a young age, he was incredibly perceptive for an El-Aurian.

"Okay," he just said in agreement. "I won't argue anymore."

"Thank you." Leaning over, she kissed his forehead. "Now go. Both of you."

Lifting up the baby, she handed him to Oren. Smiling, Oren kissed his brother's chubby cheek before carefully settling him onto the floor and taking his hand before leading him out of the studio.

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