T'Gan O'Sullivan

I'm Biba and I teach (math and science) and coach (basketball and softball) at a small high school. Though I've done cooperative writing before, this is my first foray into cooperative writing in the Star Trek genre and I've enjoyed it so far. I stumbled on this site quite by accident, just by asking one of your members (Lt. German Galven) about a composite picture he had created. Random facts about me? Worf is my favorite character, because I love how, not having grown up in Klingon society, he's pursued an idealized version of what it is to be Klingon, and from time to time, he has to deal with the idealized conflicting with the actual. My favorite actress/actor portraying either a regular or recurring character would be Whoopi Goldberg. I am an amatuer philosopher, and you might be able to deduce what subject I'm studying by whatever I might try to work into my sims!

"Temporary quarters are that way, Kay-det," the human Chief Petty Officer at the transporter console explained, pointing to a map temporarily brought up on a nearby control interface, "And the holodeck where ya'll will be taking your final exam is just a couple of turns and turbo ride down. Anyway, all that is accessible on your PADD or from your quarters, or Heck, you can ask directions from anywhere on the base. Don't be shy." "I appreciate your guidance, Chief," Cadet T'Gan replied somberly. The Chief Petty Officer grinned broadly. "Well, good luck on your final exam. I'm sure you'll knock him dead." With that pronouncement, the Chief returned his attention back to his transporter controls, leaving T'Gan to make her way to her quarters. If the dark skinned Vulcan noticed the glances she received as she made her way to her quarters, she didn't show it. Although it wasn't unknown for Vulcans to wear their hair long (T'Gan's dark hair was loosely braided and reached past the middle of her back), most Vulcans serving in Starfleet chose to wear their hair in a "bowl style." Of course, if those she passed had known that T'Gan answered to "Cadet O'Sullivan," or that she spoke with a hint of an accent reminiscent of an Irish brogue, she might have garnered more than just a few glances. But since T'Gan walked with the steady pace of "Vulcan purpose," she was quickly forgotten. The number of cadets who had reported to SB 118 for their final exam were so many, that one more cadet got lost in the parade. T'Gan quickly found her quarters and got settled in. Setting an alarm with the computer, she found an appropriate place to assume a meditative position.