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"Arrival at StarBase 118" (Introduce your character here!)

FltAdml. Wolf

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Let's get down to business! This is an open thread to introduce your character. Don't worry about formatting -- just be creative and write in a way that's comfortable for you. You'll learn how to use our official format once training starts. For now, let's just have fun!

Here's how it works: your character has just finished four years at the Academy and has arrived at StarBase 118 for their "Cadet Cruise." (i.e.- your training program!) Your transport has arrived a few hours before you're due to report to the holodeck for the briefing. Maybe you want to wander around the massive commercial sector, or something else entirely?

You'll want to start with your character. Be creative about showing us who they are -- species, name, and perhaps a description of what they look like. Think back to the fiction books you've read, and recall how authors introduce you to the main character of the story. You might find this tutorial "How to introduce a character" to be useful.

Ready to go? Just click the black button that says "reply to this topic", or just start typing in the box at the bottom of this page!

Edited by FltAdml. Wolf
Fixing links.
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Jack smiled and nodded approvingly. He ran a hand through his black hair and paused on the back of his neck. He had finally arrived. Jack Mancuso, unlikely cadet was about to embark on his cadet cruise. And he was early no less. Jack considered that it was probably a strange sight, this tall awkward looking cadet, with the dark hair, hazel eyes, and distinguished nose, standing here grinning like a fool. However Jack was very pleased he had even been chosen for this. He hadn't done bad at the Academy mind you. He had even excelled in some subjects. But he had struggled with others, and had barely managed to balance his grades enough to stay near the middle of the class.

Mancuso stopped for a moment, considering the voice in his head that sounded terribly like his mother telling him to be careful. But Jack was also overwhelmed with a sense of pride and the thrill of it all. Ever since he had been a little boy, Jack had stared at the night sky and dreamed of all those far off worlds. It was certainly a far cry from his simple upbringing in the Tennessee hills where his father was a veterinarian and his mother a school teacher. But Jack had wanted so much more, and against the best advice of his parents he had signed up for the Academy. And now it was almost over. Jack had studied Counseling and Science, History to be precise, mainly because they interested him. Even if he had no idea yet which role he would be assigned into, Jack knew that this was exactly what he had dreamed of.

Jack looked down at his pale, slim hands. They were almost shaking with anticipation. He desperately wished for a cup of coffee right now, and wondered to himself if there were anywhere close enough to grap a cup before the breifing. If this were Earth, there would certainly be be no shortage of locations for a warm cup. Mancuso was impressed with the size of the station as he looked around. It was massive. Perhaps he would even be lucky enough to be assigned here once he was done. Jack so wanted to one day visit New Scotland. Mancuso chuckled to himself. He only wished his father could see him now, dressed in his uniform, looking like a child on Christmas, and yet equally nervous. But of course his father would have merely chastised him, yet again, about his decision to join Starfleet. His father had sought out a peaceful, meager life, but that hadn't been enough for Jack had it?

Jack picked up his pack and began to walk. He hadn't been an athlete or a genius. Simple a bright enough young man with a sense of wonder. A dreamer. And good with people. So what had they expected him to do back home? He wasn't mechanically gifted or an outgoing sort. But he did have a way with people and a desire to see more than just the stars from a pasture in Tennessee. And so, here he was. Jack Mancuso. About to embark on his cadet cruise, and who knew what adventures after that? And as he checked the time, about to be late if he didn't hurry.

Cadet Jack Mancuso

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Doree stepped off the transport and onto the arrival deck of the starbase. She glanced around at all the hustle and bustle, the different species, the different lifestyles, and was struck with a mixture of awe and trepidation. I guess we're not in Kansas anymore, she thought to herself as she took in the sights. This is, of course, what she had wanted for as long as she could remember: to escape her small, country upbringing on Earth and see the universe. Her parents had never understood her desire to leave home but they were proud of her accomplishments. She glanced at a chronometer and realized she had some time to kill and decided she might as well explore, so she set out to see what she could find.

Doree was a small, young woman with strikingly green eyes and shoulder length, brown hair that she kept pulled tightly back into a pony tail. Her face was young, and there was a slight hint of freckles across her cheeks that had never quite gone away, a fact which was a constant annoyance to her. She moved with purpose in her steps but also a somewhat graceful nature which came from years of dancing. She was typically quiet and reserved, preferring to sit back and study her surroundings, though her friends back home would be able to tell many stories about her wilder nature.

She found a small cafe where she could watch the foot traffic passing by and sat down at a table with her bag. Doree looked up and smiled as a waiter arrived at her table.

"Hello there cadet. So are you coming or going?" he asked motioning to her duffel bag.

"I'm just arriving here for my cadet cruise," she replied.

"Ah, well welcome aboard! I'm Jarett, friend to all cadets here. What department are you in?"

"Thank you Jarett, it's very nice to meet you. I'm Doree Greene and I'm a medical and science cadet."

"Well Dr. Greene, it's nice to meet you as well. Judging from your accent I'm thinking you might like a nice glass of sweet tea?"

She nodded with a smile and went back to watching the steady stream of people walking by the cafe. The tea, it turned out, was delicious and exactly what she needed after her long transport ride to the base. As she slowly sipped it, she thought about the days and weeks ahead of her. The final test to see if she was really cut out to be a Starfleet officer was at hand. Admittedly, she felt a certain amount of anxiety but she was confident that she could handle whatever she was presented with. After another glance at a chronometer, she finished her sweet tea, and stood up from the table. She called out her thanks to Jarett, "friend to all cadets," picked up her duffel bag, and set off toward the holodeck and her future.

Cadet Doree Greene

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CAIT - Four year ago

The spires of the Temple of Felinas, one of CAIT’s most prestigious religious structures, stretched with grace and majesty towards the heavens. Since the first time Elan had laid eyes upon them, his heart and soul had long to follow their led and venture into the vast unknown that could be found out there amongst the stars.

Having had an affinity for engineering and problem solving, the Caitian took every course available in this field of expertise with the hopes that one day he would earn enough recognition to be accepted into Starfleet. The endless dedication and undying determination soon paid off and the young Caitian found himself bound for EARTH to begin his training and hopefully join the ranks of those fortunate enough to explore the universe under the banner of Starfleet.


STARBASE 118 – Present day

Four years of intensive training, endless hours of work, training and simulations had brought the Caitian here, to STARBASE 118 for the final step in his journey to become a Starfleet Officer. The moment the towering being stepped into he open walkway of the Commercial Sector, all eyes diverted onto Elan, a reaction that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

With a gentle bow of his head, the 32 terran years old Caitian greeted some of his stunned onlookers as he ventured onto he starbase’s Commercial Sector with an hour to himself before having to report for his final training.

At almost 2 meters tall, Elan had been difficult to miss or even ignore, and his 130 kilos of imposing musculature only insured that no one, not even the station’s own security personnel would stand in his way.

“Elan?” An attractive humanoid woman with long flowing red hair called out as she easily spotted the Caitian in the crowd. “What are you doing here?”

The imposing engineer quickly turned in the direction of the voice that had beckoned him, and it was with not small amount of joy that he recognized Amber Satori, a woman with whom he had spend a many hours studying back on EARTH. Despite the fact that she had not been a Starfleet Officer or Cadet for that matter, the woman had possessed an uncanny knowledge of Starfleet and its ways. The fact that she had managed to eluded divulging her actual origins to the Caitian had only further deepened his admiration of her.

“I am here for my final training,” the gentle giant replied, his tender, soft voice a sharp contradiction to the impression the Caitian gave by his simple form. “I am happy, although somewhat surprised to see you here,” Elan added having half suspected that she had already known that he would be here and that her presence here had not been a coincidence.

“The universe is full of surprises my dear Elan,” Amber cooed back as she took one of the Caitian’s skilled hands into her own delicate ones. “That said, it is unwise to question he universe when it presents you with a gift,” the redhead added with a beaming smile. “After your training you and I will have to get together so that I can once again listen to your magnificent flute playing.”

Elan could not help but smile at the thought of playing his silver flute for her. Many evenings back on EARTH during the last four years the two of them had spent long hours together, her listening to hi playing, and him feeling inspired in a way that he had never thought possible.

“It will be with great pleasure that I shall be looking forward to this,” Elan announced with a smile that matched that of mysterious crimson haired woman. “I can only hope that this final training will not leave me in a condition that will make it impossible for me to play my flute.”

Amber chuckled. “Elan, I have yet to see anyone throw you into a situation or give you a problem that you can’t find a way out of without compromising your ethics and beliefs,” she affirmed without hesitation. “I have the utmost faith in you my dear Elan. Believe in the universe, because it believes in you,” she added with a playful wink before leaving the Caitain giant to his own thoughts with now less than 30 minutes before his final training.

Cadet Elan Talak


Character Summary –

Elan Talak

Race: Caitian

Age: 32 terran years

Height: 6 feet 8 inches (198cm)

Weight: 285lbs (130Kg)

Appearance: Tall and muscular, Elan easily comes across as someone that would best be befriended or avoided entirely. Light beige base fur color with dark brown stripes over the shoulders and arms, and spots over the rest of the body. His fur is relatively short and exceptionally soft to the touch.

Although imposing in size and appearance, Elan is a “kitten” at heart, unable to harm the smallest living creature. Because of this he has often been given the nickname of “teddy bear” although he is quick to point out to those individuals that his race is feline in origin. The fact that he is an extreme pacifist has also created a few unique situations where fellow classmates have assumed that because of his size and general muscular appearance the Caitian would not have any problems getting into some sort of brawl along side fellow Cadets. They are alas quick to realize that this is not so as Elan will avoid any type of confrontation.

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Guest Shawn Aarons

Cadet Shawn Aarons stepped off the transport, hopefully for the last time, and looked over the view. Starfleet Academy standing in front of him, a congregation of many massive buildings, and behind him, the pristine view of San Francisco Bay, with the Golden Gate Bridge behind it. He loved that view. It allowed him to take his mind off of things for a while and just dream. Dream of things that could be, dream of things beyond the atmosphere of Earth and the Terran system.

He was so busy gazing off at the bay and the bridge that he didn't realize he was standing right in the middle of the path. Most everyone missed him, but there was always that one who wasn't paying attention, and that one found him and ran into him at a brisk walk. Aarons stumbled to the left, but managed to keep his feet. The crash of PADDs and such was audable over the bustling crowd.

"Dammit, I'm sorry!" the cadet who'd hit him said frantically as he stooped to collect his PADDs.

"Not a problem," Aarons said. "I'm as much to blame as you, if not more. I was daydreaming." He stooped to aid the cadet in retrieving his things. Upon completion of collection, he handed them back to the cadet, who took them greatfully, thanking him profusely. With that, Aarons said good day and took his leave, heading for the docking yards for his cadet cruise.

'Great,' he thought. 'Maybe I get to seem some for-real action.' He had majored, if you could call it that, in Tactical and Security, but had also taken some classes in Engineering. He was ready to get out there and kick some alien [...]. In all reality, he wanted to go after some of the rogue Dominion vessels that sightings had been reported of to avenge his parents and brothers. But for the moment, that would most likely have to wait.

'Well,' he pondered. 'Let's see what's out there.'

(OOC: I hope the use of the A word wasn't uncalled for? Please excuse me if it was and let me know, so that it doesn't happen again.)

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Perhaps it was the way that the shuttle jolted into the docking bay, or the way that his classmates cheered as they arrived at Starbase 118, but Brian awoke with a sudden rush of adrenaline. He stood up from his seat and began to gather his duffel. Well, this is it. This is what he would have wanted... He stood in front of the hatch and awaited what lie beyond: his future. The doors slid open and a new realm of wonderment was laid before him. the vastness of the Starbase was something he couldn't have imagined. Certainly a change from back home.. he thought. Slowly he stepped out onto the tarmac and gazed about. Crew members of all types wandered about, appearing to all be on some sort of personal mission. He stepped forward and moved towards what appeared to be a lounge area of sorts. Briefing wasn't until 0730, and he certainly had some time to gather himself in his new surroundings.

Brian wasn't necessarily hard to spot in a crowd. Standing at nearly 6'3 with a fairly large and muscular build, he towered over most. His face appeared hard and weathered even only being at the age of 25. His Acamarian cleft upon his forehead was easily distinguished. He had his father to thank for that. The darkness of his eyes and facial features were typically misread, as well as the vertical scar over his left eye, which only led to others giving him an uneasy approach. He was used to it. Cautiously moving about the floor, he found a place to sit. He seemed to zone out for a moment, but was focused at the same time on something outside the space station.

He was transfixed upon the one thing that he had longed for: The USS Discovery. The "C" model bird was floating gracefully near a docking wharf appearing to be refitted for its next voyage. He stood for a moment and placed his hand upon the glass. He had always dreamed of not just being on that very ship, but even commanding it. His trance was broken by a voice...

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

He turned to see a young woman, most likely of his age, standing beside him gazing upon the same space craft. "Indeed. I've always dreamed of being on that ship."

The young woman appeared to have no insignia of any kind, and was dressed in plain civilian clothing. "I never once thought I would be aboard it, that is until yesterday."

"I see, were you lucky enough to be assigned to that craft?" He could see a her expression turn from wonderment, to that of trepidation.

She turned to him and looked him in his cold dark eyes, "My world was obliterated yesterday. The Federation had dispatched a few vessels to assist. As the other vessels were leaving, under fire, the Discovery stayed until every last man, woman and child was aboard. To them, I owe my very life. To be on that ship, is to be everything the Federation is."

He turned back towards the window, "And that is precisely what I'm here for..."

Cadet Brian OcQue



Name: Brian OcQue

Race: Acamarian / Terran

Age: 25 years

Height: 6'3

Weight: 225 Pounds

Identifying Marks: Acamarian Cleft in center of the forehead, long vertical scar over the left eye.

Build: Muscular, athletic.

Appearance: Brian is a large individual, whose appearance commands the opposite of what he stands for. As a mostly benevolent being, he appears quite the opposite. His face is worn and dark with deepset dark eyes that appear to be cold. His skin is not quite pale, but is lighter than normal.

Brian was a standalone for most of his life. Favoring negotiation and diplomacy over violence, he had plenty of experience in avoiding potentially life threatening situations. Cadet life was an experience that changed him. It added a sort of vigor, a sort of purpose to his being. It brought out a side of him that he hadn't known existed. he knew that this future was going to be a bright one. But only time will tell.

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Addendum to Star Academy Cadet profile #[edited]


TO: SF Acad. Council

FROM: A. Rowan, S. Psych., UPP, Leeds MA

In response to your request for information about SAC Harold Foster I have little to add to the data in Cadet Profile, except for some observations, that I made during my counseling years (2372-2380) under authority of British Board of Special Education (BBSE). Harold Foster came under BBSE supervision in 2372 because his parents applied for Special Education Curriculum for in-house/isolated schooling. Such procedure was usual during that time for all children that would not attend common primary or secondary schools and/or boarding/preparatory schools. The reason for application as indicated by H. Foster’s parents was “restricted mobility”, which usually meant not some sort of student disability, but rather the fact that family resided/worked in some sort of isolated area. These included faraway research facilities, some special military installations and suchlike. I do not have more information on the place of Foster family residence, as it was – and I believe still is – confidential.

During first several years of my contact with H. Foster I did not observe any significant behavioral deviations or other psychological problems. Foster was a good student, showing above average aptitude in most subjects with a special interest in history, sociology and natural sciences. My communication with student was very limited though, because we were not allowed to use holographic devices – just flatscreen audiovisual comms and/or text messages. Another problematic aspect was that I could communicate with his parents using text messages only. Holo, video or even voice communications weren’t permitted. I should also note, that at no time during my sessions with student I was able to observe the family together. In fact, I have never seen William H. Foster or Natalie Foster on the vid screen nor was I able to meet them in person, despite many repeating requests.

This, however, did not seem to be alarming, as the child was active, curious, lively and seemed happy. I do believe that he rarely saw his parents himself, since his own descriptions of them often strangely confused mother and father, shifting in narrative from one to another as if they were somehow immaterial for Harold.

Problems surfaced later, around year 2379. My usual rapport with my student started to evaporate, Harold became more estranged and non-communicative. I ascribed this to an effect of early adolescence, but doubts remained. For one, there never was any tension between us when we were discussing any subject besides his studies. While talking about his leisure, games, creative projects or entertainment shows/music the relationship remained very close and sympathetic. Only when we discussed his studies, Harold usually became nervous and close-lipped. His grades remained generally good, except in one broad area – information sciences and applied mathematics. This was unexpected to me. I thought my student demonstrated sincere interest in the subjects, especially during introductory courses. But later he failed most tests and his grades became worse and worse.

I wrote to Harold's parents, but got nowhere. They reassured me, that Harold never said he dislikes any particular topics he studied. "It might be transitory, related to the adolescence and hormonal changes", their reply said. The lack of direct communication frustrated be greatly at that time.

Some years later, unhappy because a lack of progress in Harold's education, I decided to get a second opinion and sent my student's test data to mathematician, professor Norman Mellig, who also happened to be BBSE Council member. He returned the documents a week later with a short note, that said: "All false results are false by deliberation. Very cleverly done. Computers wouldn't catch him."

Taken aghast I tried to confront Harold with his deceit, but it was a disaster – he terminated all communication with me. BBSE couldn't do anything, because Harold passed A level exams successfully and was out of their supervision. He was fourteen then and definitely out of my reach.

I've set up permanent search request for any data relating to Harold Foster, but received very little from the databanks ever since. Either he entered some higher school pseudonymously or didn't continue formal education at all.

The only message from Harold – I assume it was from him – I received some years later from an anon relay. It said "Sorry, Miss Rowan. You were too smart. Happy birthday, H." (It was sent on my birthday).

Right about that time prof. Mellig showed me an anonymous message on his comm, that he received just after he presented the results of latest research in Shifted-Quant Computing, that promised to transform quantum computing and unleash vast new processing power by shifting the first quant of any dataset processed. The message said "Why don't we shift them all?"

"This reminds me your smarty-pants student", professor said, "the one that cunningly failed all tests proving at the same time that he knew the subject matter perfectly". "This is no simple prank, this is challenge," Mellig told me, "It was sent from our first SQ computer. It's in the Special Foundation Lab, inaccessible to unauthorized personnel. And bloody logs do not show any trace."

I have no proof neither that both messages are related, nor that they were written by my former student, but I was somewhat amused by reading Foster's Cadet Profile aptitude test results and list of academic achievements. Amused by their regularity and exact correspondence to the statistical average (you can check the data, it's available publicly at FAC-Databank). Maybe it also contains message?

Very cordially Yours,

Dr. Adele Rowan, Psy. D

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Gah, I changed my character name lol. Viktor Lanius is the name lol.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Personal Log:

I am about to arrive aboard Starbase 118, where I have been assigned to complete my final year as a cadet aboard a ship. Some cadets get real assignments out in real space, but not us. We're being sent aboard a simulation vessel on the starbase's huge holodeck platforms. I suppose it's good that we cannot do any real damage there, but a year cooped up in one place does not really stir my sense of adventure, no matter how much virtual space we might traverse. I've already had three at the Academy's satellite campus on Betazed.

I just keep telling myself that one day it will all be worth it. And even if we're boldly going nowhere, at least I'm far away from home.

Mathilda clicks off her PADD, saving the log entry. She looks up in her seat as the starbase engulfs the viewport, the maw of a huge hangar swallowing the shuttlecraft. Her red hair reflects in the glass, making her cringe at her own awkward reflection. Scowling at her own face didn't help. Of course, her hand is on her leg again, rubbing that long-suffering sore spot. She lets it drop to her side. The last thing she wants to do when coming aboard a new base is show weakness. Or worse - attract questions.

The shuttle set down softly on the deck and in a moment she was up and heading out at the end of a line of cadets, each toting their big grey bags and scratching at their tight grey uniforms. They said ships and starbases today could simulate an ambient Earth atmosphere to within 0.04%, but Mathilda could feel the difference. She just knew it. The air was dry and for another year she'd never feel the breeze on her face of a planet's surface. Unless she were assigned to an away team, she supposed, but then that breeze would just be simulated all over again.

With a little limp in her step and a lot of thought in her head, Mathilda realised she was trailing behind her classmates. Well, old habits die hard, and if she had not been much of a social butterfly back on Betazed, or even her favourite Earth haunt of Cork, what were the chances she would stay in step with her fellows here? At least keeping her distance helped with the headaches...

Name: Mathilda O'Hara

Race: Betazoid / Terran

Age: 24 years

Height: 5'3

Weight: 125 Pounds

Build: Slim, compact.

Appearance: Every bit the Irish rose, Mathilda has (she would say suffers from) hair of flaming red and a smattering of freckles across her face. They're not nearly as extensive as she believes, but she tries to avoid her own reflection anyway. Born with one leg slightly shorter than the other, she has adopted a slight limp as her right thigh muscle has grown aggravated by the constant imbalance. This sets up a bitter metaphor she is acutely aware of - balancing her mind is something this half-Betazoid finds difficult in the cacophany of thoughts and feelings that echo around a ship or a starbase.

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Adam slowly made his way through the "New Orleans" area of Starbase 118, his pale blue eyes taking in each piece of the facimile of the Earth he had only recently left. He didn't know why, but for some reason he always found himself...pulled towards the distant dark, towards places that dripped of something atavistic and primal. Towards old things.

But this place wasn't old. It was new, made to look old--like theater stage makeup. He walked by a small alleyway, where he saw shadowy figures crouched over a small prone form.

His body tensed, like it always did when he prepared for conflict. It was something like fear, but without the emotional content--just the body preparing for something.

He coughed loudly, something he had picked up at the academy. He had observed in these situations, a flair for the dramatic was sometimes more effective than a simply "What are you doing?" though that would have been his response before he entered the academy, and the variety of personalities that he encountered there.

The figures in the alley looked up, seeing his tall, athletic form, and the Starfleet uniform. They scattered. The small prone form moved slightly and groaned. Adam went into the alley, and picked up the small form, carrying him to the artificially sunlit walkway. It was a child, around 9 or 10, and he suddenly realized he was being carried, and he started struggling.

"Get off me, get off me!"

Adam quickly set him down.

"Are you all right?" Adam asked, in a soft voice, almost too soft, as if he were worried he would break something by talking too loud.

"I was handling them all right." The kid brushed himself off, and looked defiantly up at Adam.

"It looked like you were being beaten."

The kid tried to save face a little, and then gave up. He sat down on the front steps of a building by the alleyway. Adam looked down at him.

"I wish I was in Starfleet. Then nobody'd mess with me."

Adam looked around the area, calculating. He didn't really know what to do. He knew what people were supposed to do, but he didn't feel, one way or another. He said the only thing he could think of.

"I envy you. If that's the right word. I don't feel envy, I don't really know necessarily what it is. I only know it by description."

"What are you talking about?" The kid said, raising an eyebrow.

"You have a childhood, you have a reason to want and be the way you are. I simply do what I am capable at. I have no motivation, other than action itself."

He felt he had said enough, and turned to leave. Then he thought of something else, something others were always telling each other.

"Don't be afraid."

Adam left, feeling something akin to satisfaction, and the kid watched his tall form until he was out of sight.

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Don't Know if this is the right place for this but here goes.

  • STATS:
    • Full name: Michael Horatio Hunt
    • Date of birth (Age):236712.30 (21)
    • Species: Terran
    • Gender: Male
    • Hair color: Red
    • Eye color: Blue
    • Height: 6’1 (185.42 cm)
    • Weight: 215 lbs (97.5 Kg.)


    • Parents: George Lee Hunt (Occupation: Farmer) DOB:233212.05 (56)

Janet T. Hunt, nee Tallant (Occupation: History Teacher) DOB: 233704.27 (51)

    • Siblings:

Douglas F. Hunt (Occupation: Farmer) DOB: 235705.01 (31)

Sybil A. Hunt (Occupation: Professional Soccer Player FC Dallas) DOB: 235901.14 (29)

Niles Hunt (Occupation: Doctor) DOB: 236101.11 (27)

Judy C. Hunt (Occupation: Aide Bajoran Embassy) DOB:236112.19 (27)

Clair G. Hunt (Occupation: Shop Keeper) DOB: 236303.22 (25)

Nelson Hunt. (Occupation: Student Engineering University of Oklahoma) DOB: 237001.15 (19)

    • Spouse: N/A
    • Children: N/A


236712.30-M.H Hunt is born in Rusk Texas

238505.16-Graduates High School 21st out of 100 students

238507.04 -Converts to the Bajoran Religion from Mormonism citing a wish to follow an unbroken line of prophets

238708.15-Enrolls in University of Texas (Major Bajoran Studies Minor Physical Therapy)

238901.10-Transfers to Starfleet Academy Virginia (Major: Security)

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Michael -- check the original post in the thread. This is where you introduce your character in a vignette :) Feel free to post again with your addition to the thread!

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  • 2 weeks later...

The airlock doors slid open to admit the passenger’s from the shuttle onto Starbase 118. As the passenger’s filed out, a few Starfleet cadets stepped out. At first or even second glance, you wouldn’t notice Cadet Micheal Cell, as it seemed he just faded into the background. His brown hair, grey eyes, average height, all seemed to meld together to allow him to not stand out in any regard. Which was just fine for him, since most of his teenage years had been spent trying not to be noticed.

“Welcome to Starbase 118,” said a young, female officer to no one in particular as the passengers moved through the corridor. Micheal made a note of the time behind her as he continued behind the other cadets. He wasn’t really with them but felt that being unknown to this station, it couldn’t hurt to see where they were going. As they stepped onto a lift, one of the cadets entered the destination of the Promenade. Being as it was still many hours before Cell was supposed to arrive for his training, that destination fit him just fine. Cell listened in on the cadet’s conversation but it wasn’t particularly interesting to him, just some small talk about the academy and their new assignments. Small talk always had seemed trivial to Micheal, having grown up on a cargo ship where you only talked when required.

The doors to the lift finally opened and the cadets stepped out on what seemed to be the Promenade. The other cadets started walking to the right but Micheal was in no mind to continue following them, he didn’t like to stay in groups for too long. Cell travelled along the Promenade for a while, looking at the different shops, restaurants, and bars that filled it. Finally having his fill of walking, he stepped into a bar that caught his eye, called Keal’s Pub. Spotting an empty seat at one end of the wood bar, Micheal set his lightly packed duffel down. He didn’t carry much with him, just some uniforms, usual grooming supplies, and some small personal effects.

“What will you have?” asked a woman as she came round to get his order.

“Scotch, single malt, on the rocks,” came Cell’s usual reply to that question. He had ordered that same drink so many times that he didn’t even need to waste a second thinking about it. The woman smiled at him as she jotted it down, but Micheal didn’t reciprocate, which didn’t seem to faze her. Cell’s normal expression was very neutral; it couldn’t be considered a smile, a frown, or anything else really, just neutral.

After a couple minutes, the bartender returned with the drink. Taking a sip, Micheal noted that the scotch in this pub seemed a bit weaker than what he was normally used to. But he was used to much seedier places than this one, so it didn’t surprise him. After four years at the Academy, he had grown used to the weaker alcohol. Looking around the pub, Cell figured this was as good a place as any to waste his time before he had to report in.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Cadet Sterling Knighthorse stepped off of the transport fresh from 4 years of Starfleet training with full honors. His confidence levels were at a all time high just as if he had just completed his rite of passage among his native Seminole tribe. He had already been considered a man among his people for many years, but now was his first step in becoming a Starfleet officer.

As he collected his gear, he looked around at the faces of others that have come from the academy and noticed that some seemed overwhelmed as they attempted to grasp where they actually were as if they were surprised they made it to this point. One such Cadet was a Ferengi. In the middle of the hustle and bustle, Cadet Knighthorse made a cordial introduction and offered his hand in order to offer some peace of mind.

Cadet Knighthorse: Has the experience been everything you have expected as of yet?

Ferengi Cadet: I have not come with any preconceived notions, so my expectations have no ruling in the matter.

Cadet Knighthorse: ...but you have to have some sort of idea or thoughts on what was to take place...

Ferengi Cadet: ::Turns to Cadet Knighthorse:: I am a Ferengi. I am short, slow in speed and whose race is considered the cowards of the universe who will sell their mother for one silver pressed latinum. We are not trusted and are not considered a physical threat to anyone. We are looked upon as a waste of cells. People look on me as what the Earth people call a circus freak. Now you ask yourself what it is I may be contemplating my stay will be like.

Cadet Knighthorse: I am a tall, lighter skin Seminole Indian whose lineage is traced back to always being at odds with whatever ruling body was in power and now I just finished 4 years at the academy, so your in great company. We can only control our attitudes and what energy we put into our careers at SF.

Ferengi Cadet: Wise words. Very wise words cadet. I spend too much time dwelling on what my race has been instead of what my race can become. I hope we have the time to meet again sometime.

Cadet Knighthorse: As do I. My name is Sterling Knighthorse.

Ferengi Cadet: I am called Kog.

::Cadet Knighthorse shakes the hand of Kog and walks off in the direction he was given of the holodeck he will be briefed at. As he begins his Trek, he starts to collect his thoughts and press his personal feelings of homesickness to the back of his mind for he will soon embark on a career that will take him boldly where no one has gone before in just a few hours::

Fast Facts:

NAME: Sterling Lee Knighthorse




HAIR STYLE: Retro Caeser Cut


TATTOOS: Bear as a representation of his clan within the Seminole nation applied to chest over heart



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Would T'Mynn's introduction be placed here when she gets a posting after graduation? (Is in simulation training now, I guess that represents Academy training.

No need :) This is just for preliminary introductions!

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Alright thanks Admiral.

Here is the introduction.

Name: T'Mynn Ah'mygahn from t'Orien. An ensign on USS Tiger until moved elsewhere or I meet my Maker. :) Young whipper snappers running around space like a buncha' crazies, someone'll get hurt. :)

Oh yeah has a sense of humour,and taste. Loves to cook anything. Especially. Terran curries.

Ensign T'Mynn Ah'mygahn


USS Tiger-A

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Thrakar K'Zin looked all around to take in all of Starbase 118's interior. The size of the place was staggering. He thought back to one of his last Engineering courses at Starfleet Academy before he switched to Security, where the professor had referred to a certain class of structures as "Big Dumb Objects". Starbase 118 fit the description of a BDO perfectly.

The Commercial Sector was an exercise for all of the Caitian's senses. The sounds and smells of all the various sentients milling around would have been sensory overload of most humanoids, but for K'Zin it was incredibly exciting, a promise of the variety of adventures ahead of him.

True, he missed his family, his parents and littermates. He was the only one of their family to feel the attraction of space, the "final frontier" as a teacher had once described it. The decision to work in space wasn't that bad for his family, but choosing Starfleet had been a bit of a shock. He had a choice to make those years ago, be a big male in a small pride in the Ferasa Defense Force, or leave everything behind and join Starfleet. The thrill of the unknown had been too strong to resist, so despite his family's admonitions, off he went.

And now, here he was. He briefly saw his future unfold before him. What would his next step be?

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  • 3 weeks later...

To: ufop-sb118-ops@yahoo.com

Subject: Cadet Tanneth Lyre, M.D. - Arrival at Starbase 118

Message Body:

(( Commercial Sector, StarBase 118 ))

::The sensation of being a very small fish in an enormous ocean affected different people in different ways. For Dr. Tanneth Lyre, the press of minds engaged her mental defenses so solidly that she might as well be a Ferengi instead of descended from Betazed on her mother's side and Vulcan on her father's. It was not merely psychic defenses that were on red alert either. The 5'4" slightly-built counselor stood with her back against a storefront window, her left arm snaked around her ribs as if she were hugging herself. The noisy crowd seemed to pulse around her, some hurrying, some deep in conversation as they strolled. Some were even gazing about as if actually *trying* to drink it all in instead of trying to push it all away.

For the next week or so, until she was assigned to her first real posting in the fleet, she and her classmates would be tourists on this galactic beehive. 'I do belong here,' she reminded herself with a barely perceptible hardening of her delicate features.

Having pursued an undergraduate degree in Health Sciences, then medical school and internship before joining StarFleet, Tanneth was a decade older than many of the young cadets that had made the journey with her. However, her size and lineage belied her chronological age; and in fact, more people were surprised that she was 32 than were surprised she was a cadet.

The suppression of her Betazoid features tended to enhance her Vulcan discipline. It was relatively easy to lose herself as she analyzed each group of people in the wandering mob, allowing her training as an observer notice the gestures that gave clues to their immediate pursuits and relationships. Two women walking together drew her interest. The younger was immaculately dressed, her older companion in a comfortable, well-worn jumpsuit. They positioned themselves closer than casual friends usually would, and as Tanneth fell into step behind them, she noticed that their gaits were extremely similar. Mother and daughter then, she speculated. The daughter appeared taller, but was also wearing high-heeled boots. She also seemed to be doing most of the talking and almost all of the gesturing. Perhaps familiarizing her mother with the shopping center?

Some minutes later the twosome and their observer came to an establishment boasting hair and skin treatments from over one-hundred worlds. The glass front gave window to a mirrored interior broken by fabricated stone and animal hide furnishings. The lighting was multidimensional, with pot lights bringing objects d'art into stark focus, and hidden light sources ensuring that every reflection was indirectly but perfectly illuminated.

The two women spoke to a garishly dressed young man and took a seat. Without consciously intending to the curious blue-clad cadet had followed them inside, drawing the gregarious receptionist's attention.

Receptionist: Ah! The fresh meat has arrived.

::Tanneth's head tilted as she tried to mesh his friendly tone to his words, which she had in the past heard delivered with sarcasm or derision. Unable to decide if he was truly glad to see her she chose to remain silent, forcing him to address her again or ignore her. If possible, he seemed to grow even more friendly as he glanced at his terminal.::

Receptionist: You report in at 1500, right? We have just enough time to tidy you up a bit after your journey. Want to be perfect for your first impression, I'm sure.

::Unaware until that moment that she was less than perfectly groomed, Dr. Lyre turned toward her reflection, her hand automatically going toward her hair. It was still smoothed neatly into a French twist. Her make up looked as freshly applied as it had just when checked it before disembarking the transport.::

Receptionist: We'll start with your hair. A wash and trim to start?

::When she turned her attention back to the receptionist a young woman came from the back and called the mother and daughter back. Recalled to her earlier investigation, Tanneth agreed to the personal services.::

::Two hours later she walked out of the 118 Salon, chocolate brown hair washed, trimmed, and set into large soft curls hanging down her back in a style she would never bother arranging for herself. Though still uncertain, she had decided to take the flamboyant stylist's word for it that the 'softer' look was the correct impression she wished to make as a fresh StarFleet psychiatrist.::

With half an hour before they were expected to report, she joined the queue of cadets eagerly waiting at near an auspiciously placed vendor.

Tag! Anyone.

Cadet Tanneth Lyre, M.D.

StarBase 118

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((docking bay))

::a young vulcan male with remnants of Borg implants walks out from the docking bay and walks up to a lcars display taps a button and says::

"computer can you direct me to the commercial district"

::the screen then displayed arrows. as he walked the corridors a cadet approached him.::

cadet:"I see you are a cadet too. My name is sam winet"

Ter'dal:"my name is Ter'del."

sam:"Are you reporting in at 1500."


sam: "so am I. are you heading to the commercial district?"


sam: "May i join you?"

Ter'del:"Its a free federation"


((commercial district))

::Ter'del walks to map looks at map, sam follows::

sam:"looks like there's is a klingon on restaurant just over there."

Ter'del:"why are you telling me this?"

sam:" do you want to go?"

oOit seams logical to have an Allie in trainingOo

Ter'del: "very well."

::walks to restaurant sit at table::

klingon waiter:"what will you eat?"

sam: "gagh"

Ter'del: “nothing for me”

::waiter walks off::

Sam:”so I couldn't help but noticing you have Borg implants.”

Ter’del:” you observed correctly my parents, both vulcan were on a federation ship uss buran during wolf 359. I was severed from the collective subsequently by the star ship firebird in 2388.”

Sam: “interesting.”

Ter’del : “Enjoy your meal I am going to report to the hollo deck early.”

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There was a jerk as the shuttle attached itself to StarBase 118. As soon as he heard the familiar hissing sound of the airlock, Christopher leapt up from his seat and grabbed his bag from above. He had been anticipating arriving for so long now.

Starfleet Academy had been a long journey for Lenar. He was glad to be finally on the other side, finally so close to his dream. Now, if they'd only put him on some starship, he'd be happy. He ran his fingers through his brown hair as he walked, making sure it hadn't gotten mussed on the flight.

Lenar dreaded the possibility of a desk job on the station. He couldn't stand the thought. But surely, with his Academy record, they'd put him on the deck of some vessel?

Chris shook his head. He was getting a little sleepy, but there was no time for that now. He pulled out his PADD and checked again when his cadet cruise began. "Cannot be late," he muttered to himself, quickly pulling up a map of the massive station so he could find his way.

As he walked, the thrill of the moment began to overtake him again. He was finally here, not in the Academy; he was far, far away from the Academy now. A smile spread across his face, and he quickened his step.

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The transporter doors opened in a quick rush, swiftly rustling Lai Jo'rek's hair. Even though his hair is longer than most Romulans and kept in a small pontyail, the rush from the atmospheric stabilizers still managed to mess up his jet black hair slightly. Another thing that distinguishes him from other Romulans is that he has two grayish, almost white, lines starting from the point of his V-like hairline all the way down his head in the same V-like manner. Other than that, at first glance most would assume that he was a rather odd looking Vulcan, but then they would notice those recognizable ridges that extenuate his cold hard stare that he learned from the Vulcans.

Jo'rek exited the transporter in a hurried fashion, knowing exactly what he needed to do. Keeping his arms held behind his back, he even gave off the appearence that he was in a hurry and seemed upset about something. The passengers who arrived with him looked at him with some disgust.

"Well what's that guy's problem?" one asked a nearby passenger.

"Didn't you notice? He's a Romulan. Probably thinks he is better than everyone else. Pompous elitist!"

Jo'rek entered into the commercial sector, his destination: the security office. The people that he walked past looked at him with a rather puzzled look, most of them wondering what's eating the Vulcan. As he passed them however, the patrons gave him the same disgust looks as they noticed his phenotypic Romulan traits. Every person he passed, Jo'rek wanted to lash out at them, wanting to teach them a lesson in respect. However the rigid training in Vulcan principles that he had been taught since he was youngling overpowers all the extreme emotions that he naturally experiences without restraint. His family made it very clear that the way of the Romulans would not be the path of any sort of prosperity or fulfilling life, only pain, death, and destruction.

After the deaths of his fifteen brothers, all high-ranking members of the Romulan military, the Jo'rek family decided that in order for their name to survive the unforgiving dilution of time and to have their last son propser and to live a long and happy life that were to move to Vulcan much earlier than when they had planned. His family was a part of he movement that began with many Romulans wishing to learn the ways of the Vulcans and hopefully reuniting with them. But after the deaths of Lai's brothers in quick succession, they had no choice but to leave Romulus earlier.

As Lai rounded past the corner outside of a Ferengi-owned bar, a human Starfleet offical was literally running after the briskly paced Jo'rek. "Sir! Sir!" the offical yelled out in a worn-out higher pitched voice.

Jo'rek stopped his stride and the official ran into him, falling hard to the ground and not even budging him. Lai turned around and looked at the offical with his signature cold and intellectual yet inqusitive stare. "What is it that you desire?" Jo'rek said in a seemingly harsh tone though he didn't mean to come off that way. The official, feeling hurt that this odd-looking Vulcan didn't even offer to help her up, she jumped to her feet and flattened out her uniform. "I'm sorry sir but I'm a Starfleet official that welcomes newcomers to Starbase 118. I saw you and I didn't get to officially welcome you so I would like to say-"

"Where is the office to your security personnel?" Jo'rek interrupted, feeling pressured to get to the security office in time.

Coming off as rude and arrogant, the official responded with an equally unpleasant tone: "You turn this next corner, follow the hall and turn right. The security office is the second door on the right."

"Thank you." Jo'rek expressed in a voice he had hoped to give off as appreciative and grateful. He then turned back around and continued his lightining fast path, well to a human.

The offical watched as Jo'rek walked away, the official thought about who she had just met and instantly realized that this impolite and abrash individual was actually a Romulan as ahe remembered seeing those distinct ridges and the V-like hairline. The official then scoffed that this person who she didn't even know. "So he was a Romulan? Hmph, no wonder." She then went back the opposite way to continue her greeting duties.

Jo'rek thought about this quick and random encounter all the way to the security office. Although he was taught to always do what he was commanded and to not relfect with great, let alone any, effort on anything considered uimportant, pointless, and tangical to the overall goal, Lai began to feel guilt, a lot of guilt, about how he seemed to be a total imbecile towards this person who was only trying to greet him to the Starbase. He started to reflect and think about it, almost becoming the forefront of his mind. I should have handled it differently. Those in Starfleet wouldn't act the way I did. But then his Vulcan thinking returned to domination in his mind. "I have to do what I must. I can't ponder upon such trivial moments." He spoke to himself reassuring, feeling like he knew what he was doing.

Edited by JustinMcGov
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Jerk's gonna get his own back...in full.

Yes, revenge was sweet, even sweeter for some, and when it was a punk like Samuels it was even more enjoyable. Daine, 'Dee' in her own mind and to her closer friends and family, had a sly grin on her face as she stepped out of the shuttle behind her tall, lanky foe. Having endeared himself to her by talking down to her and assuming that she was Vulcan in nature and not just appearance, Daine had granted him the honour of being her first blacklisted individual on her first day of training. He would be the one she would not want to be partnered up with, and would, such as he was about to find out, receive the brunt of her frustration.

The sly grin was a rarity on this trip. Samuels had quickly labelled her as the straight laced logic defined Vulcan of the Voyage, whereas she was as far from Vulcan in outlook as any other human could be. When he had started into his assumptions, she had tucked her blonde wisps of hair behind her elven ears and taken on the dry tone she was so well practiced at faking. Yes, she had taken on the persona he had assumed upon her. Of course, this was all the plan.

"Cadet...your ID?"

The words broke Daine out of her thoughts by the question. Good. It wasn't her that was being talked too, but the 'enemy' in front of her.

"Yes sir," he said, but seemed to be becoming increasingly agitated.

"Cadet? Are you missing something?"

Samuels was obviously rather worried now. It was time for the 'Vulcan' to step up to the plate.

"Sir...I believe he left this on shuttle," she said stepping forward and handing over the young man's personal PADD on which were contained his credentials and orders.

"Thank you, Cadet," the Ensign said to Daine.

"You are welcome," she said with a beaming smile, which was seen by Samuels who now stood wide eyed.


"My grandmother was Vulcan," she whispered, before granting him a wink. Revenge had been served, he was mildly red in the face, and surely more embarrassed than that indicated. His eyes looked up and cast a quick glance about those behind Daine and found all those that had heard his earlier words were trying hard to suppress laughter.

"Excuse me," Daine said, to get him moving.

"Oh, yes...sorry...uhm...sorry," Samuels replied.

"You are welcome to move on Cadet Samuels," the Ensign said with a subtle gleam in his eye. Apparently he understood that Samuels had just received his comeuppance for some indiscretion.

"Why yes sir, yes sir," he said and then moved on.

"Cadet...Arnst?" the Ensign now said as he looked over Daine's PADD.

"Yes sir," she said with a triumphant expression.

"Don't enjoy it too much," he whispered before stepping back a bit and speaking a little louder, "you are clear to proceed."

"Yes sir," she said before walking away, and casting Samuels a cursory glance and whispered, "understood."

It was time to explore.

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Cadet Talya Robins stepped out of the transport, and took her first breath of Starbase 118's air. It was crisper, cleaner, than the air on board the transport; she'd booked an earlier flight on a commercial transport so as to avoid the rowdy mass of cadets streaming from the Academy. And she'd made the right choice, too - even if she did have to suffer the stench of two slightly drunk Klingons who obviously hadn't seen the inside of a sonic shower in a few weeks.

As she looked around at her new surroundings, her crystal blue eyes flicking from area to area, she tried to make a mental note of which direction everything was in, just in case she was to spend any length of time here. Even from her position next to the docking bay, she could see markers pointing towards Sickbay.

Soon, that's where I'll be. Soon.

She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, a sudden thought flitting through her mind. Why wait? She had several hours to kill, and it seemed the best place to spend them would be in her prospective post.

Making her way along the corridors, almost completely devoid of crewmen at this time of morning, she was glad to be here. She'd spent almost her entire life in the city, and although she'd spent holidays in the country, Talya always felt more comfortable and at home when surrounded by Starfleet-stamped walls. And there was nowhere more so 'stamped' as here.

She rounded a corner and saw directly ahead of her Sickbay. As she plowed on, determined to step inside before she thought of food, she tucked her dark curls behind her ear, revealing even more of the dark spots that lined her forehead and sides of her face.

Upon entry, she saw a man leaning a hand against the bulkhead while he studied a PADD. He didn't look entirely too pleased at what he was reading, and Talya decided that maybe it was best to come back later, if she had spare time.

But the doctor had seen her.

"Are you alright, Cadet?"

Now she felt embarrassed, having interrupted his domain. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you, sir. I just came to look around. I hope you don't mind."

His face cleared and he smiled warmly. "Not at all. As you can see, this place is rather empty. You may as well have a ganders while you can. You certainly won't get chance once you begin the Cruise."

"Thank you," she said, but she remained rooted to the spot.

He must have sensed her unease, for the next moment she knew, he was beckoning her to follow him around Sickbay.

"You don't mind my asking, but you're not a complete Trill, are you?" he asked kindly, and without sounding at all accusing.

She nodded to confirm his suspicion. It wasn't generally something she talked about often. "My mother was human. My father died soon after my youngest sister was born, and then mother remarried. All of us kids are missing one spot," she said, gently touching her right temple, where there was a distinct lack of Trill markings.

"So where were you raised? I ask this from a purely medical perspective, of course," he said, holding his hands up in defence. "I've been cursed with a case of insatiable curiosity where it comes to hybrids."

She grinned. "As have I, Dr. I was raised on Mallus IV."

"I'm not sure I know where that is, Cadet."

"No reason you should, sir. Mallus IV was one of the first colony worlds. Shortly after colonization, though, our leaders decided to opt for independence from the Federation. Our traditions are somewhat...different to those of Earth. My people don't exactly welcome newcomers, but when my father rescued my mother - well, he obeyed my people's traditions."

The doctor nodded but made no comment. Instead, he held out his hand with a smile. "Cadet, come see me when your training is finished, if you have time."

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Jack leaned on the railings and looked over into the dockyard below him, watching the pretty young cadet with long, waist-long black hair as she walked away from him and towards his best friend. He knew her name, had known it for the last three years: Annabella Deanna Riker, daughter of John and Maria-Seirra Riker. His heart ached for her; he was in love with her, he knew that, but he knew that she didn't love him.

She loved his best friend, and he couldn't hate either of them for that. In truth, he was happy for them. He smiled as Bella took Jim's hand and reached up to kiss him before they turned and headed for the shuttlecraft that would take them to their ship for their Cadet Cruise. He stood up and headed for the stairs, following his two best friends at a distance.

He's tall with ice-blue eyes and chestnut-brown hair. He's human.

She's small with coal-black eyes and Midnight-black hair. She's Betazoid.

They're in love.

They're Imzadi.

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  • FltAdml. Wolf changed the title to "Arrival at StarBase 118" (Introduce your character here!)

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