Streelan

## Appearance

Tall, skinny and almost as a bag of bones, sinew and muscle, along with eyes the color of the ocean on a calm summer's day, Streelan is relatively unassuming save the fact that he is 6'7" in height, which automatically makes him stand out (literally) to any and all who lay eyes upon him. Not that he cares too much for the attention. Outside of the expected Medical uniform and coat he can commonly be found in turquoise green shirts, jeans (woe are the tailors who he gets to measure him for these) and his uniform boots. It can also be said that a book or PADD with a book on screen is also part of his outfit (jokingly of course). Sometimes he wonders how with all the reading he does he hasn't yet required glasses by medical standards.

## Personality

The somewhat commonly held notion that Kelpiens whose ganglia have not yet fallen lack courage has long irritated Streelan to no end. He has known plenty who have fire enough in their bellies, even without going through vahar'ai, and he aspires to be one of those people. In fact, that is the reason behind his combat medic's training. He certainly tries hard to be courageous as he can, only that sometimes simple nervousness or predisposition to flight rather than fight takes over. Despite this he stays rather reserved, a shut-in by most standards, though he has tried (and continues to try) to break this perception of him. Friends, colleagues and more than friends have all noted that he isn't exactly antisocial, however; he just has a little shell of comfort that he doesn't find it easy to come out of.

Otherwise, it should be noted that he is generally amiable to those he interacts with, remaining just likeable enough. He tends to radiate nerd energy; always with a book on hand or knowledge at his fingertips. He has a rather… odd… way of speaking; more formal than may be expected but just casual enough to not seem stiff. Admittedly this way of speaking came after much hard work and confusion, which only shows his dedication to his work - maybe too much at times.

Maybe, just maybe, a certain upcoming natural change might just get him to take those first few steps.

### Ambitions

* Discover a new type of catch-all treatment for most diseases.
* Making Chief Medical Officer (someday, hopefully)
* Make a few more close friends and possibly more than that?

## History

All things considered Streelan had a good life growing up on the western coast of the continent of In’tar on Kaminar. Living in the local town of Rytan and born to a schoolteacher father and physician mother, he seemed to have a pretty good start in life. His father would teach him the basics of what he needed to know in life when he could while his mother took care of his health and well-being the best she could and kept him well fed. It was almost the dream combination of parents in anyone’s eyes. His childhood was spent largely buried in books and reading (his father’s efforts) all manner of works, including those from Earth, Andor, Tellar and beyond that still. He discovered early on into childhood (unsurprisingly) that he found books easier to understand than people; at least with books they had a plotline you could follow.

Growing up, he unfortunately found himself being not exactly the best treated among his peers - never mind the mildness common to most Kelpien children, poor Streelan was additionally a shut-in that preferred to sit alone and read or study whatever he pleased over go outside and socialize with the other schoolchildren. This sadly meant that he did not have very many friends, which he didn’t quite mind, frankly. All he needed to do was focus on his studies. Knowing this his parents attempted to assist him in socializing by enrolling him in various after-school activities, none of which he was good at - or quite helped with his awkwardness or shut-in tendencies.

While things certainly seemed peaceful on Kaminar, surface level at least, they really weren't. While by and large most Kelpiens were supportive of the new Kelpien-Ba'ul Alliance, there still remained a portion of society who opposed the idea, believing that the alliance went against the natural order of predator and prey. For many years they remained a small yet vocal group, opposing the governing body of the planet and its decisions, largely not too obtrusive…

...too bad that the night on which they staged their biggest upset of the past few years, was the night poor Streelan's life would take a sharp downturn. He never quite forgot the date: August 19th, 2369. It would've been the perfect birthday night for him and his parents. All three were having dinner in a newly opened restaurant in the heart of In’tar, in the outdoors seating area… until screams rent the air. Coming down the road were dissident group members armed with antiproton firearms, indiscriminately firing upon innocent civilians. Streelan and his parents abandoned their meal and ran with the crowd, hoping to escape and be lost in the crowd. Then there was a heart-wrenching whirr and dull clunk on the paved road, and a small metal object rolled across the tiles. A plasma grenade. He felt his father push him forward, telling him to run as fast as he could. So he did… even as he heard the grenade go off. He couldn't stop to process it, though; lest he be caught. So he ran… and ran… and ran… until he reached the family home, where he hid in his bedroom, locking the door to that as well. And he waited.

The minutes stretched into hours. All he could do was huddle, stay quiet and hope that somehow he would not be found. Eventually, nine hours passed. Scared, tired but unable to sleep and hungry, still he waited… until he heard a knock on his room door. Not good. With shaky hands he seized the largest, heaviest book he owned, held it aloft and answered the door…

Thankfully, fortune was smiling on him that morning. It was a Kelpien law enforcement officer. Perhaps thinking that the boy could handle it, the officer put the news to him plainly: his parents were dead. They'd been killed in the plasma gren-

All went black.

Upon his next awakening he saw the bright lights of a hospital lamp shining in his face. He'd fainted, both from exhaustion and shock. He sat up, disoriented and dizzy… and almost wished he hadn't. The ward was full of patients, all in some measure badly hurt, many dying by the looks of things. The news hit hard, though. Though he hadn't heard all of it, the message was clear: his parents were dead. That was all that mattered right now.

He was discharged that night, being uninjured save shock and possibly trauma, and allowed to go home. Looking at a photograph of his parents that night as he made himself dinner (thanks to his mother for teaching him), he made a decision. He knew what to do in life now; he wanted to make sure that no more children needed to cry because their mother or father would not come home ever again. He wanted to ensure that no one else had to ever go through what he did - though he would do so without resorting to fighting.

He would become a doctor like his mother.

But first, he needed to qualify to study as one - and as to where he wanted to practice, the answer was clear. Kaminar was a nice place to practice but it was one planet. He wanted more. So the answer was Starfleet and its plethora of species and worlds. In such a sense he’d be helping the citizens of many worlds, would he not?

He was sent to live by his next nearest of kin, being his maternal aunt. As soon as schools had reopened following the attack, he threw himself into his studies, finishing the equivalent of high school and graduating to a remarkable standard. His circumstances did not go unnoticed throughout, though; with his studies now came regular counseling sessions in order to help him cope with the loss. From there, Starfleet Academy and Mars were his next destinations, following a tearful parting with his aunt and what remained of his family.

Suffice to say that he was a little overwhelmed by the size of the campus upon first seeing it, or the sheer variety of his fellow cadets. Everything was so big and so shiny to him, having come from the equivalent of a Kelpien suburb. This time he did make some effort to try and connect with others during the course of his studies; after all he couldn’t stay an island, as his human friends sometimes said. This being said the process was difficult and long, and lasted throughout his tenure of study. When he did interact with others, however, they found him to be surprisingly pleasant to speak with and knowledgeable if a bit (sorry, very) nerdy, if a little too formal-sounding. The counseling sessions continued too, well into his early years of service.

Otherwise he was an excellent student, once again without too many friends but the few he did have he kept close and dear to him, a practice he continues to keep to this day. It was during the course of his studies that he heard of the stereotype that Kelpiens that had not gone through vahar’ai were meek and mild, and tended to be pushovers, in being terrified of anything and everything.

Of course, no one treated him that way, at least, not blatantly, but he wasn’t about to buy into it. Nope. So in an attempt to smash this stereotype, he did what the sane (or maybe not) Kelpien would do: enroll in the combat medic’s training course. Yes, the medical professionals with the most hair-raising job anyone could ask for. The training was not easy; charging across a holographic battlefield with a medical kit is never easy to do or muster up the courage to do but he pulled it off… somehow. He never figured out how. Nonetheless he graduated from the course near the top of his class, bested only by a Vulcan.

Upon graduation he was assigned to the USS Hemsworth, spending the majority of his career there. His time aboard was once again peppered with counseling sessions, continuing for about two years into his tenure. Otherwise his interactions with his crewmates stayed largely pleasant. It was during this time that he discovered his dislike of papaya - and took up chess as a hobby. In fact, he entered the shipboard chess competition during one shore leave and nearly won… beaten by, again, a Vulcan. This was ironic considering he was dating this Vulcan at the time. His off duty time was spent either reading or sharpening his combat medic's skills - at times he even helped his colleagues train. The same was constantly said of him in that he needed to come out of his shell a bit, though - which he honestly tried to do. And didn't do a good job at. Otherwise the Hemsworth never quite got into any particularly hair-raising adventures - which he did not like. He was thereafter transferred to the Arcadia.

## Starfleet Courses

### Core Courses

* ADMIN101: Star Fleet Operations
* ADMIN110: Chain of Command and General Protocol
* DIPL101: General
* ENG221: LCARS Programming 1
* ENG231: Computer Memory and Personnel Interfaces
* ENG232: Replicators, Transporters, and Holodecks
* ENG233: Sensors, Communications, and Helm Systems
* HIST101: Birth of the Federation
* LANG101: Federation Standard
* LANG110: Major Species (Elementary) - Cadet's Choice
* LAW101: Federation, General
* MATH101: Concepts
* MED101: First Aid and Field Medicine
* PHYS101: Concepts
* PILOT101: Runabouts and Shuttles
* SURV101: Starship Emergencies
* SURV110: Environmental Suits and Zero-G Training
* TAC101: Combat, Unarmed
* TAC110: Combat, Small Weapons
* BIO101: Concepts
* XEN101: General

### Majors

* BIO151: Cell Biology, Humanoid
* BIO152: Cell Biology, Non-Humanoid
* MED111: Bedside Manner
* MED150: Medical Ethics
* MED175: Epidemiology and Medical Statistics
* MED201: Clinical Fundamentals
* MED202: Diagnosis, Major Species
* MED203: Diagnosis, Minor Species
* MED211: Pharmacology 1
* MED212: Pharmacology 2

### Minors

* MED301: Surgery, Major Humanoid Species
* MED302: Surgery, Non-Humanoid Species
* BIO201: General Physiology
* BIO202: Physiology, Major Species
* BIO203: Physiology, Minor Species

## Trivia

* He learned to cook from his mother - though he laments about not being able to use it in an environment such as that of a starship with limited space.

### Likes

* Reading of any kind (books, medical journals, literary classics, you name it).
* Brioche bread (don't judge, he just likes it)
* A job well done, in his case a patient walking away feeling better than when they came in, physically and emotionally.

### Dislikes

* Stereotyping.
* Papayas in any preparation, especially raw. Ugh.
* Not understanding what he reads or treats
* Fighting (though he will fight if he must)