Uhr’assa

## Appearance

Rather than the usual tan brown of her father and fellow countrymen and countrywomen, Uhr’assa’s skin is a light greyish-bluish color; a result of her House Mo’kai heritage. She has been bullied, called out and mocked upon it for years and years of her life. The House of Mo’kai is a clan of backstabbers, assassins and betrayers after all and that is what people automatically assume of her at times by the color of her hide.

Otherwise she is a powerfully built woman, certainly, muscular and tough-looking and standing at 6'2", in stark contrast to the profession she has chosen for herself which one might associate with gentler, more subtle species. Several scars cover her body, most notable of which being that on her left cheek and she is proud of every single one of them. Her eyes are an unusual shade of yellow, too, adding to her already atypical appearance. Her lips constantly carry a warm, inviting grin, especially so when others come to talk to her in her botany lab or at her shop down on the promenade.

Uhr'assa is always found in sleeveless shirts and jeans or some other such long-legged garment tucked into boots - it doesn't get in the way of her work after all. That and they show off the numerous scars she has sustained over the years; these are her medals of honor and are proof of the many battles she has fought and won. She can usually be found in brightly colored albeit plain-ish clothes; green and yellow are her usual colors though she has been known to wear red as well.

## Personality

Uhr'assa is loud, from her volume when talking, booming and full of cheer to her boisterous laugh to even her clothes (bright red Hawaiian print shirts, anyone?). She loves to party and drink and maybe, just maybe, have a little fun of her own. Many residents of Deep Space Nine know her to be cordial, boisterous when she wants to be and unfailingly spirit-lifting - no one walks away from her presence feeling blue, at least according to them. In fact she has been known to, in typical Klingon fashion and with all the candor and directness within, to unapologetically tell others to simply punch their woes in the face and defeat them as a good Klingon warrior would. Grades falling? Battle them till they get better. Is your crush not noticing you? Well, bring them flowers (if you want) and be absolutely up front as to how you feel. After all, according to her, any obstacle can be overcome if you attack it hard enough; that is, to simply persevere and forge on until things do get solved. For this reason she is well liked by all… well, almost all.

Uhr'assa knows who she is descended from. She knows well the name which has forever stained her name and skin, and what it means to have such blood flow through one's veins. It has therefore been her goal in life to cleanse her name and make it burn as brightly as that of any of her fellow warriors'. Too bad all her hard work came crashing down seven years ago; she has since attempted to cleanse the name through small acts instead, hence her new chosen occupation.

Speaking of seven years ago - warrior though she acts like and still is deep within her being Uhr'assa harbors plenty of personal guilt and trauma over the one incident that toppled her chances at redemption and possibly ground them under its heel. It is because of this that she has vowed never to pick up a weapon or purposefully fight and hurt another living thing again. Who knows when she'll sink the next sharp object she picks up into someone's chest? As much as the battlefield may call to her, Uhr'assa has learned to make herself deaf to it. For the most part, anyway.

### Ambitions

* Redeem House Mo'kai, however she can.

* Escape her tainted past with the KDF. She thinks that she's done this already, but has she really?

### Morals

* No unnecessary fighting when you can solve things rationally and with a good present and talks instead. Many Klingons think that this makes her weak.

* Have a problem? Attack it until it's solved, simple.

## History

Uhr’assa was not born into a proper life - raised in the slums of Qo’nos’ First City by her mother T'Karina, who worked as a waitress at a nearby seedy Orion-run bar. They were a strange pair of mother and child; anomalous blue-gray skin rather than the tan brown of their countrymen. This was, of course, due to the blood of the House of Mo'kai, clan of usurpers, assassins, backstabbers and spies, everything the Klingon way of life abhorred. Her father was a lowly freight captain of normal tan brown skin and as such was never home; he found that sometimes the risk of being lynched for association far outweighed the need to spend time with his wife and daughter and as such seemed to take pains to only come home as rarely as possible. As such Uhr'assa grew up with little memory of the man; only the scar that ran down the right side of his face and blinded his right eye, the vaguest warm touch of a hand and the remaining good eye looking down at her.

Growing up on Qo'nos was not easy. Uhr'assa and her mother were hardly warriors; the young girl herself could barely learn to carry a miniature bat'leth without assistance. Being educated in the Klingon Empire meant facing great discrimination among her peers and from her teachers; it does not take long for Klingon children to pick out the obviously very different and avoid them; learning about the actions of House Mo'kai only deepened the chasm that slowly formed between herself and her peers as she grew older. Few children associated themselves with her; those that did usually received admonishment from their parents for affiliating themselves with the daughter of a traitor and coward. As such she spent most of her time alone, studying or training with her mother's old, rusted bat'leth and dagger, often under the burning light of a brazier in a remote corner of the city, doing the latter as a break from the former when her mother worked late into the hours of the night or sometimes didn't come home at all.

It was a depressing life, all in all, one that might’ve turned her into a much, much less social woman with an equally sour attitude towards her fellow Klingons had it not been an elderly Klingon farmer by the name of Pevohk. Pevohk was content to simply tend his fields and supply grain and fruit to the local market; whoever bought what he sold was irrelevant to him. Seeing that Uhr’assa and her mother could often not even be able to feed themselves, he took it upon himself to show them that some measure of kindness existed in Klingon society even for those whose blood tainted their names. He would let Uhr’assa and her mother join him for meals sometimes, memories Uhr’assa continues to treasure to this day and shall likely do so til the day she dies. He would sometimes show her how he tended his crops and have her help him in the fields (thankfully located on the outskirts of the First City where she wouldn’t be noticed) - which was what first ignited her passion for plants in the first place.

This being said Pevohk was no ordinary farmer - he was a retired Defense Force veteran as well, and he spent no small amount of time sparring with Uhr’assa, correcting her technique, stance and teaching her what he could from his younger days. It was at his urging that she decided to look towards Klingon Academy and a career with the Force; perhaps then she’d earn herself some recognition of the good kind then. "Do not let the tint of your skin hold you back!" He said, "Show them that the blood of House Mo'kai can be redeemed!" Those two assurances Uhr'assa took to heart, and that was exactly what she made it her life goal to do thereon.

The examining warriors at Klingon Academy were highly suspicious of her; they mocked her commoner's status and bloodline. As far as they were concerned she was no warrior. Uhr'assa proved them otherwise: she seized a bat'leth, slashed the table in front of them in twain and pointed the tip at one of their necks and demanded to know if seeing that display their atittudes had changed. They had - in spite of that little show of aggression the examiners liked her spirit and admitted her anyway. That hardly meant that her Academy tenure was easy; she could feel judgmental gazes on her everywhere she walked. She paid them no heed. In time she learned to puff out her chest and declare, "I am Uhr'assa, daughter of Kh'anor, blood of house Mo'kai! And I will redeem my bloodline even if it costs me my life!" Uhr'assa had few friends; most distrusted her at best, some openly mocked her. She was therefore forced to work and fight to earn their respect; she retains several scars on her body from such skirmishes even now. She was no stellar student; in fact she had to work thrice as hard as her classmates to get the same grades. Others mocked her for being slow; she mocked them back when she graduated ahead of them with honors as a science officer.

The I.K.S. L'Kuvak was where she first earned her stripes. Despite being part of a woefully tiny science department, a department usually forgotten about due to their relative uselessness in the face of battle, Uhr'assa received plenty of attention. When her captain wasn't looking she received many judgmental stares from her fellow crewmates and open insults - many open insults. Once again she was mocked based on her bluish-grey skin and lack of much proper prior training prior to the Academy; traits they said hardly became of a true Klingon warrior. This being said if her tormentors thought that this would break Uhr'assa, they were wrong. She was swift to meet their challenges head on (sometimes literally) with all she'd learned and with as much spirit as ever had been expected of her. To say she won all the challenges and duels she ever won would be a gross overexaggeration; she won and lost her fair share of those, definitely.

This being said she hated seeing that her crewmates who had nothing to prove, unlike her, did about half the work she did and seemed lazy or unwilling to put effort into their work. Chief among them: the L'Kuvak's chief scientist. He was a Nausicaan man who loved to get drunk on the ship's bloodwine stores and hardly did any work save the bare minimum needed to keep him in his position. She did not like that. She knew she had to take things into her own hands and set precdent, not only for the rest of her department but herself as well. So she took a dagger to his small office on the ship in her third year aboard and, after a short but fierce duel, the lazy Nausicaan lay dead with her dagger in his chest at last. It is in fact from this battle that she earned the scar on her left cheek. Her first task: sort out the other scientists. Serving under her was simple: treat your work as a battle for your life. Be thorough, work hard - or die. Of course she never had anyone put to death, but she was always sure to put the lazy in their place, even if it meant using an unhealthy amount of force. Through her efforts the ship's scientists, the few of them, improved greatly; the rest of the ship began to see them in a better light then - which pleased Uhr'assa greatly.

Three years into her tenure aboard the L'Kuvak the Klingon Civil War broke out. Many of the crew accused her of supporting the Duras sisters, saying that traitors' blood sympathised with the same, when the truth was the exact opposite. Even when she declared fiercely that she stood on Gowron's side of the battlefield others labelled her a spy. Why? "Spies' blood runs in her veins." They sneered. Things only got more difficult for her thereon. Uhr'assa's life aboard the L'Kuvak became a daily affair of looking over her back to ensure that there was no dagger in her spine while fending off the challenges and duels that others sent to her face. When she woke in the mornings she counted herself lucky to have done so in her quarters aboard the L'Kuvak and not in Koth - especially so when she brought the odd fling back to her senior staff's quarters.

Not long after she was reassigned to the IKS Duvbrumal - as chief scientist. Her ethic remained the same: treat your work as a battle for your life - or die. She was one of the most driven of the senior officers, determined to prove herself and hardworking. She didn't need to wait long, however, because the Cardassian-Klingon war broke out again in 2372. Now a lieutenant, she earned herself glory once more by saving the ship when it was beset upon by a Cardassian warship. She marched from her office and marched below decks, weapon in hand, and drove off what remained of the Cardassian boarders armed with only her bat'leth and a disruptor pistol. The Klingons who initially saw her were astonished at first - but they soon fell into step with her and with their collective efforts purged the entire deck of Cardassians. Many were astonished that a warrior with traitor’s blood and a science officer could be so fierce in battle - and it earned her some measure of respect, though not much. Nonetheless she considered it a small victory and that was all that mattered to her.

Following the Cardassian War the Duvbrumal remained docked at the new Federation station of Deep Space Nine for a week and a half. Uhr'assa, scientist by training, took her sweet time exploring the station and interacting with the residents; the sheer diversity of ths people that came and went through it was simply staggering to her. The best part of it all, though, was that no one really knew or cared who she was. She was just another passing-through citizen of the Alpha Quadrant and that was all that was needed for her to be accepted without question - even when she explicitly told others of the blood that flowed through her veins. For the first time in her life she truly felt safe. She felt accepted. So much so, in fact, that she was loath to leave the station when their shore leave time came to an end. This feeling of belonging, of unconditional acceptance, would be the driving force behind her return and permanent residence later on.

Shortly following her promotion to Lieutenant Commander and Second Officer following her slaying of the one before her, the following year, the Dominion War broke out. Uhr'assa liked this war less than the previous: not only was she having to battle Cardassians, again, they now had their uglier, scalier, all fight and no play Jem'hadar and Vorta allies in the Dominion at their side. Ugh. As much as she and her fellow officers aboard the Duvbrumal thought they were prepared for this new threat, their ship was unfortunately not. It was aging and unprepared for the much faster and more maneuverable Jem’hadar attack craft that rained polaron fire on its hull. The cruiser's shields soon buckled and she along with the rest of the crew ran for the escape pods while her captain stayed behind. She never reached the ship's escape craft, however; she found herself and her crew transported into the brig cell of a Jem'hadar attack vessel with her weapon gone. They were prisoners of the Dominion - and she was helpless to do anything about it.

Having accessed the ship’s computer and possibly having extracted what information they could from it, the Dominion instantly knew who she was - and the position of authority she’d been placed in. Out of the Dubrumal's crew the one who received the most questioning and the most abuse when she refused to answer any of their questions. Electric shock, physical abuse, having her own bat'leth and dagger used on her, disruptor and polaron fire and other methods best left unspoken about - Uhr'assa endured them all and gave no information. Perhaps that was one thing the blood of house Mo'kai lent her: being able to keep her mouth shut. For two whole weeks she and her crew endured such torture and abuse - until their saving grace came in the form of the U.S.S. Gancelot and the I.K.S. Kh'alor, who liberated the crew in a raid on the prison colony they were housed in. Uhr'assa herself ended up in the Kh'alor's cargo bay and was tended to at once. She was even more surprised to find that the battlecruiser's commanding officer was Pevohk - Major-General Pehvohk. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and as such the Klingon High Command had summoned its retired veterans back to duty, as long as they were fit to carry a weapon and fight or command. The old Klingon himself was eager to return to the field and fight on the Empire’s behalf - and to win.

The battle raged on fiercely. The Kh’alor and Gancelot were both fiercely attacked from all sides by Jem’hadar vessels. In the process Pevohk’s first and second officers perished when they left the bridge to secure the decks below. The old flag officer knew that he needed to pick a new first officer at least - and he knew where to find one. He summoned Uhr’assa to the bridge. There was something he wanted her to do, and that was for her to fight at his side. She received a field promotion to Commander on the spot and appointed to First Officer. If there was anyone he knew would fight fiercer than anyone else he knew, it was she. Uhr’assa did not disappoint. She hated not being on the battlefield, and she especially hated the Jem'hadar and their Cardassian allies for what they'd done to her and as such was quite ready to tear them from limb to limb. She took up a disruptor rifle and bat'leth and stormed below decks, wading through the Jem'hadar boarders with a team of warriors at her side. She did not stop until she was covered in wounds, both major and minor - and the last soldier lay dead at her feet. That was the easy part. Now she had to get the Kh’alor and her crew away. She and Pevohk ordered the ship cloaked and away from battle - a difficult endeavor breaking through the Jem’hadar ships ahead of them but they managed, though not without a few close encounters.

Liberating the Duvbrumal's crew was a small victory, but there was the rest of the war to be fought. Uhr'assa remained at Pevohk's side throughout, steadfast and fierce. Klingon High Command initially baulked at the appointment, believing that having a woman of her stock in the position was far too risky. Pevohk, however, stood by her side throughout. Why deny a warrior who had, time and time again, proven her mettle and ability to fight with great honor and command the respect of fellow warriors, the opportunity to do the same? Perhaps High Command decided to let this bumbling old fool have his way in the end - Uhr'assa stayed where she was, as first officer to the Kh'alor until the final battle of the Dominion War. The crew distrusted her at first, but times were desperate. If the General deemed her worthy of her place on the ship so be it. If she wasn't, she would be struck down, plain and simple, and Pevohk with her for his shortsightedness. Uhr'assa did not give them that opportunity. She fought fiercely and led her fellow warriors with dignity, quelling most if not all doubt that she was trustworthy.

The final battle of the Dominion War came soon enough. The Kh'alor was once again beset by Jem'hadar attack vessels and boarders. Uhr'assa once again vanished below decks to vanquish what was left of their attackers. When she and her assault team had finished with that task, she picked up her bat'leth and nearly spent rifle and sped back up to the bridge - where the old general was in fierce combat with a Jem'hadar First. Pevohk was an excellent commander, but old age had dulled his reflexes and strength, and he was clearly losing. The rest of the bridge crew was dead or too injured to fight. Uhr'assa raised her bat'leth and charged - and was swiftly batted aside by the Jem'hadar. She lay stunned against the first officers chair… and could only watch as the Jem'hadar proceeded to bat Pevohk's bat'leth out of his hands and run him through with a kar’takin, ripping the elderly Klingon in two as the weapon sliced downwards - and was pulled out. She did not have time to mourn his loss or to scream to the heavens as herald of his entry into Sto-vo-kor. She struggled to her feet and, with all her strength, hurled herself straight at the First. The two grappled for many minutes, a battle that raged across the entire bridge, smashing several large holes in the walls and consoles alike. Right at the peak of battle, she managed to run the brute through with her bat'leth - even as the very same kar’takin that'd slain Pevohk ran through her side. A grievous stab wound to be sure. With what remained of her strength she broke the weapon in two, collapsed in the helmsman’s seat and plotted a course away at best possible speed, lolled back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Somehow she didn't feel angry that her death had come this way. In that moment she hoped that, at last, the blood of House Mo'kai had been redeemed in this small way. In that, at least, she'd been successful. Here was to hoping she'd end up in Sto-vo-kor along with Pevohk…

All went black.

Perhaps it is unsurprising that when Uhr'assa next awoke she was noticeably not in Sto-vo-kor. It was too bright and far too gray to be Sto-vo-kor.. No, she was in the sickbay of the U.S.S. Caligula, and she was being tended to by Andorian doctor Ullan'shar ch'Harathvi. The Caligula had chanced across the ship travelling at a measly three quarter impulse and beamed the survivors off. Several broken bones, a cracked spine, stab wound to her side, numerous cuts and bruises - in his opinion she was lucky to still be alive. The rest of her crew was alive, some less so than others, grievously injured but they'd live to fight another day. Which didn't matter, because the battle had been won. The new peace treaty had been signed at Deep Space Nine. For now, at least, Uhr'assa and her crew could rest.

As much as she and her crew may have wanted to go back into the field, Uhr'assa knew that he was right. She would need to rest so that she would one day properly die in battle and make her way to Sto'vo'kor - so she did, on Deep Space Nine, for the next three weeks. During that time she got to know Ullan'shar, or Ullen as he called himself, better: a former Imperial Guardsman, he'd left Andoria seeking new life out among the stars like her. He'd fought countless battles in his youth, growing up a boy with little parental support on the freezing streets of Andor. It was with this bridge that the two connected well. Ullan was a warrior and had never let others' perception of him put him down; quite the same as her. Ullan had, before the War, taken up botany as a hobby, something she could lend to having been tutored (albeit informally) by Pevohk on the subject. Soon enough the two began to spend so much time together that both crews speculated that they'd fallen in love - to which Uhr'assa merely smiled, saying that he was unfortunately born into the wrong quarter of Andorian population. This, however, did not detract from their friendship - strong, deep and lasting it was and remained so for years.

On the final day of her recovery period, Uhr'assa was summoned to Qo'nos - to High Command headquarters. Having had time to review her record, in both wars and in peacetime, and with much reluctance of many members of its ruling body, they had decided that she was ready for more. Their next ship, the Negh'var class I.K.S. Pevohk, needed a captain. Uhr'assa was not the kind of woman to say no to such an offer.

How good it felt, how liberating, to step aboard the Pevohk for the first time. This was the fruit of a lifetime of labour for her - working, fighting, pushing so hard to finally redeem the name of House Mo’kai. Now she could pass among her crew, her very own starship crew, with head held high. Sure, some looked at her with stink-eyes, others snarled and averted their eyes from her but did not complain, but it was better treatment than she’d gotten in a very, very long time. Early captaincy was more difficult for her; now that she had an entire ship to run and about two hundred crew to manage she found the tasks ahead of her daunting. For a start now she had to manage the full brunt of spats and disagreements with the crew - along with diplomacy, exploration, daily commanding officer’s logs and so on. Honestly, she had no idea how any of her previous captains or Pevohk himself had ever managed all of it and not gone insane. Learning to do so was a slow curve for her, made even slower by the considerably less ‘open’ other captains she worked with. Many called her a mutt, though they worked with her entirely out of necessity. Some seemed to look at her with distasteful light in their eyes. Just because she’d earned the respect of the crew didn’t mean that she’d necessarily earned the respect of her fellow captains, after all. She would sometimes return to her quarters late at night with headaches and a biting sense of doubt that perhaps she wasn’t ready for all of the work she was now doing.

Oh, how she wished that things would only go up now that she’d finally attained one of the best positions in the fleet. By and large she got her wish; for six years she served as the Pevohk’s captain without much incident. Standard exploration, combat and the occasional joint mission with Starfleet. For all that time it looked like things would finally be ‘normal’ - normal as normal could be for a Force vessel, that is. In 2381, however, things were about to change.. On the 28th of August that year, the Miranda-class USS Caligula was attacked by a Borg sphere - the former being a rather easy target for the latter considering they were limping home following a small skirmish. In one last desperate attempt to save itself the ship sent out a distress signal - attracting the attention of Uhr’assa and the Pevohk who were nearby. She was excited. This was a chance to prove herself and her crew worthy of an opponent such as the Borg! How exciting! This would be a most momentous day for the Empire! The Pevohk and what remained of the Caligula managed to destroy the sphere, but the battle was not yet won. Ship’s sensors detected that there were still drones aboard the Starfleet vessel - and so Uhr’assa took up her bat’leth and pistol and beamed aboard with an away team. She knew that Ullan was on board, possibly being overrun. And she intended to return him the favor he’d done her all those years ago.

Surprise, surprise! There weren’t very many drones on the tiny Caligula - but what few drones there were were clearly making rather short work of the Caligula’s somewhat underprepared crew. All the more reason for Uhr’assa and her crew to step in for aid. The Klingon was having the time of her life. These drones were resilient! Good opponents! Then there were only a few drones left - Well, that is, until she rounded a corner and plainly baulked in horror at what she saw. The drone coming down the hallway had paling blue skin, antennae, a short white beard…

Oh, by the gods, the drone that was coming towards her and now had its mechanical arm pointed at her was Ullan. She couldn’t fight her friend. She could not bear to. All the talking down and backing away from it was to absolutely no avail. The drone advanced towards her, proclaiming the inevitability of her assimilation. The thing in front of her simply wasn’t Ullan’shar ch’Harathvi anymore. Uhr’assa could’ve begged and pleaded all day, but at the end of it all she knew what she had to do. She ran her bat’leth through the drone’s stomach, taking ‘it’ offline. She held the limp body in her hands afterward. It was cold, metallic and definitely weighed far more than what an Andorian chaan Ullan’s age should have. She looked down at his face, or what had been his face before the Collective claimed him and his individuality, and she cursed the wretched, evil race that’d wrested him away from her, away from his colleagues and friends, away from the universe.

All present could hear the screams of anguish that split the air and echoed down the hallways next. She didn’t care that he didn’t believe in Sto-vo-kor and would probably never end up there. Uhr’assa gave him the send-off she thought he deserved.

Taking care of what remained of the drones was one thing - handling the loss of her dear friend was yet another. For her bravery in that battle she was promoted to Brigadier-General and allowed to remain as commander of the Pevohk, Uhr’assa could hardly find it in herself to accept the promotion and flag officer’s cloak with much of a smile, however. The loss of Ullan - at her own hands to boot - weighed greatly on her shoulders and it showed throughout the ceremony.

Cruelly enough, one’s loss is another’s gain - as was the case for Uhr’assa’s newest first officer, who wanted her out of the Force, or better, dead. He knew that she was grieving and was therefore vulnerable. He knew that it would make her weak. But he also knew that she held the confidence of the crew despite everything else. It was time for a rather different approach. Mo’kai tactics for a captain of house Mo’kai, he called it. Back on Qo’nos, he had her mother, now aging and living alone in her home in the First City, captured and killed in an ‘accident’ - and allowed the news to be delivered to her. Of course, upon finding out Uhr’assa mourned - and mourned hard. Her mother had been the only other Klingon aside from Pevohk that’d ever treated her as family in the harshness of Klingon society. She was already mourning the death of Ullan. This was far too much for her. Slowly she began to spiral downward so to speak. She begane irritable, quick to anger and resorted to yelling to get things done out of her crew. Perfect. There was just one more step to accomplish in his plan.

Just one week after her mother’s death, during a meeting with Uhr’assa herself, he took the opportunity to question her ability to command and fight: had she not been back home where her mother was, had she not cared more for her own family, would her mother now be dead? How about her friend, the Andorian? How foolish was she think that he could be saved? Was she simply growing soft? Or was the house of Mo’kai really quite so unfeeling?

Big mistake.

Uhr’assa flew into a blind rage. Mourning and insults don’t go well together at all, and at that very moment she was a prime example of that fact. She and her first officer spent many moments grappling in her ready room, dagger against dagger. She didn’t even stop to notice that he hardly fought back against her strikes. Only when he lay dying across her ready room desk did she at last come to her senses. The man, in his dying throes, was grinning with elation. It’d been what he wanted all along: to prove that even now the blood of house Mo’kai could be just as dangerous as it had been a century ago. And she’d just proved his point.

Klingon High Command was furious. She’d needlessly killed her first officer over something as small as insults - never mind that he’d started the incident in the first place. And Uhr’assa knew that. Following a trial it was decided that for that incident, she would be expelled from the Klingon Defence Force. Once again, she did know better. She, an honorable flag officer, was supposed to know that.

She could feel her cheeks burn as she stepped off the Pevohk for the last time the following day. Not one of the crew looked her in the eye as she passed them on the way to the starbase in orbit. Not even the new captain who took over the ship from her. Sneering, thrown items including hard objects, insults. Not a single drop of mercy or sympathy was given to her that day.

Now that she was out of the Force, where could she go? She had no family on Qo’nos. Her mother was dead and her father was missing as he always damn was. Surely no one on Qo’nos, having heard what she’d just committed, would employ her. She’d be shunned. So clearly there was nowhere in the Klingon Empire that would welcome her. That left the Federation… ah, yes. The Federation. She knew of one place that would accept her in spite of all else, come what may. So she caught a transport leaving for Bajor - and Deep Space Nine.

She was right about the acceptance; the residents and crew were glad to see her again after all those years. Thanks to the efficiency of the starbase’s operations crew she was able to settle into civilian quarters within the hour. Question was, though, now what? She needed to find some gainful way to keep herself occupied. Working at Quark’s as a waitress was far beneath her standards. A few residents asked her to help teach their children hand to hand combat. She refused. No. Never again. She didn’t want to risk any more rage-induced killings. She took the next few days to think about it - and then she hit upon an idea. Perhaps she could draw on something old Pevohk had taught her in her youth....

The residents of Deep Space NIne were astonished when she announced her intentions to try and manage a florist’s business on the promenade. Not that it wasn’t an honorable goal, ,mind; a Klingon? Tending to and selling plants? It was unheard of. Nevertheless they were very supportive of her goal; many soon came forward with help. Suppliers, expertise, buyers, some even offered to lend their time to help her set up and run the shop as assistants. “Who cares what you’ve done?” many said, “Doesn’t matter what you did, that’s in the past now, so let’s focus on what you can do from now on instead!”

Focus on what you can do. That’s what Uhr’assa did, and continues to do to this day. The subsequent years of recovering from her loss and disgrace were by no means easy; it took plenty of effort, meditation and outside help to get her back to a state she at least felt normal in. She put what little Pevohk had taught her to use well, bolstered by her own Force training and the other residents’ expertise. After the first two years of business, she decided that perhaps there was some room to grow, so to speak. So she had her shop space on the promenade expanded to include a small garden located in the back, sure enough, things began to look promising. Sometimes patrons would come by simply looking to enjoy the peace and quiet. That was fine by her, so long as they were happy doing so. All she could do now was to simply sit by, watch - and smile to herself. Hopefully, even in this little capacity, she could make a difference in this cruel universe.

For a brief time Uhr'assa was a Florist on board Deep Space Nine, but has since left for Bajor, and freeing up the shop space.

## Trivia

* She loves Bajoran jumja sticks. No, really. Especially when the shopkeeper found a way to make them in gagh flavor.

* That being said her favorite food is a tie between crusted salmon and rokeg blood pie.

* She is a huge fan of Terran comics. Why? She refuses to say.

### Likes

* Happy customers. Many have come back to her saying that some difference has been made, whether with her advice or smile or the flowers she sells. She relishes these times; they are proof that those of her bloodline can do something good after all.

* Targ steak. Too tough for you? Pah! You were unlucky enough to get it undercooked. According to her, anyway.

* Plants. Flowers, fruit, grass, you name it.

### Dislikes

* Other Klingons. By dislike, read avoids - she doesn't dislike other Klingons per se; she believes that the KDF officers who come to Deep Space Nine probably know who she used to be and why she lost that, and will mock her for it.

* Plants improperly taken care of.

* Jem’hadar and Cardassians alike. Both races can die screaming in the fire pits of Gre’thor for all she cares.