Race: Human/Vulcan
Rank: Lieutenant
Gender: Female
Age: 29, born in 2351
Birthplace: The Patchwork, a suped-up freighter owned by her fathers.
Sexual Orientation: Awkward, unlucky, but mostly hetero...probably.
Appearance: Round-faced, green eyed, pale and lightly freckled, delicately-featured but full-lipped, T'Pren is otherwise of perfectly average proportions for a human female. She keeps her wavy auburn hair long to cover her pointed ears. When not in uniform, she tends toward anything flowy, colorful, and comfy.
History: T'Pren Inabnet was not so much born as she was baked. Her human parent, Adlai Inabnet, once a Starfleet science officer himself, was renowned for his work in genetics, but he cut his own career short when he resigned his commission, eloped with a Vulcan artist named Muroc, and outfitted a little freighter they called the Patchwork with state of the art lab equipment. From that point on, they lived as innocuous a life as possible, staying out of trouble and the Federation's way.
Because they couldn't have children in the traditional way, Adlai set to work on a method of conception that was more symphony than science, and while Muroc sculpted in the other room, the geneticist delicately pieced their DNA together into one medically perfect little embryo and then settled their new child into an artificial womb he'd been tinkering with for years.
So they made their way through galaxy, this little patchwork family, going to inspiring locations for Muroc, educational ones for their daughter T'Pren, and -- most importantly -- to couples who needed more than a little extra help creating offspring together. Adlai would never enhance or alter the DNA (although they weren't so certain the Federation would see it that way), but worked with what the couples already had available to make their dreams come true.
They were on the edge of Federation space near the Cardassian Empire when they were overtaken. T'Pren was fourteen, terrified, and trying to be Vulcan about it. Her fathers locked her in the shuttle and launched it while they distracted the invading party. T'Pren watched the Patchwork explode just before three Cardassians beamed aboard behind her.
For the next eight years, T'Pren lived her life on Cardassian say-so. She lived in a room on a base on a moon somewhere -- she never did find out which -- with Cardassian scientists and guards and a sprinkling of other young people like her, all of which were deemed useful in some way to Cardassian interests. As long as she behaved -- which involved cooperating through extensive testing, poking, prodding, and sample-taking -- she was given occasional comforts, allowed to celebrate Cardassian festivals, and received access to enough of a database to educate herself as she grew. Sometimes she even got to spend time with the other children.
Then one day when T'Pren was twenty-two, the base went unusually quiet. No one came to her quarters for three days, and on the fourth day the lead scientist opened the door and set her free. She never learned the Cardassian woman's name; she had her hair cut into a Vulcan style and was put with a few of the other kids on a Ferengi trading vessel with a fake name where she learned that war was coming and that something called the Obsidian Order had been ambushed and decimated.
They were taken into Federation space and left at the nearest station with a Starfleet commander who held them in the brig for nearly a week with a battery of psych and physical exams before he was satisfied they weren't going to change shape or prove to be some kind of Cardassian sleeper agents. And during that time and the months that followed, T'Pren caught up on everything she'd missed out on in her little sterile room...or at least everything she could learn from reading.
With nowhere left to go, no one to go there with, and nobody telling her what to do, T'Pren found herself lost in every possible sense of the word. So when some of the station crew were talking about the escalating war and how every body was needed to help the Federation, she got a recommendation from the very commander who kept her in a cell, passed her entrance exams with aplomb, and spent the next six years studying genetics at Starfleet Academy and catching up on all the things she couldn't just read about.
Personality: Reserved at first, but more human in demeanor than Vulcan. T'Pren is wry and curious and enthusiastic in a way that used to get her a lot of grief from the more traditional Vulcans at the Academy. Having been locked away from the galaxy for so long, she's always keen to try something new. Despite her troubled childhood, she is generally positive and warm, but in silence she carries a heavy air of sadness.
Skills / Disadvantages: With nothing but time on her hands as an adolescent, T'Pren is a walking, talking encyclopedia. She was tied for second in her class at the Academy (or "gentle third", as she calls it) and she inherited her human father's skill and vision in genetics, but her social graces could definitely use some work and she still regularly attends counseling sessions to help navigate the universe outside her mystery moonbase. While she is physically capable of the usual Vulcan feats of mental gymnastics and telepathy, she is completely unskilled at wielding it. T'Pren has a love/hate relationship with both authority and Cardassians, but only the former has ever been written about (and it was totally understandable, okay!) in her file. Also in her file is mention of a chronic but infrequent and mild neurlogical condition developed during her years as a Cardassian guinea pig that causes tremors. It is easily treated with the proper hypospray.
Rumor has it she plays and sings some gorgeous Earth folk music, but she has yet to own up to it voluntarily.
What Brings Her To DS15?: T'Pren's feelings for the Cardassians are complicated and confusing, but being near them means maybe figuring out what happened to her and why. Besides, what better place to do genetics research than within an easy distance of the Dominion?
Possessions: Just about nothing that wouldn't be found on any physical being in the galaxy except one very beat up old acoustic guitar with "ADLAI" scratched in the side.
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