Nijil
| Starbase 118 Ops | ||
|---|---|---|
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| Nijil | ||
| Position | Chief Medical Officer | |
| Rank | Lieutenant Commander | |
| Species | Rekarian | |
| Gender | Male | |
| DOB | 235210.31 | |
| Age | 49 | |
| Birthplace | D’da Vallia, Rekar III | |
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Lt. Cmdr Nijil is the CMO for Starbase 118 Ops. He majors in Combat/Field level medicine. And minors in Pediatrics and Chiropractics.
‘’Adults… Adults deserve tough love and a kick in the butt… Kids on the other hand, they deserve candies, gentle words, and to have their fears wiped away.”
Stats
- Full Name: Nijil S’Tolan Aehkhifv
- Race: Rekarian
- Gender: Male
- Telepathic status: N/A
Appearance
- Height: 6’3”
- Weight: 215 lbs
- Hair Color: Dark Brown
- Length of Hair: Short, somewhat spiked in the front
- Eye Color: Blue
- Skin Tone: Pale
- Birthmarks, Scars: Scar going across his nose. Scar on his inner high leading up to his groin
- Build: Medium build, wide shoulders. Healthy.
- Face: Oval, hidden cheekbones, masculine, rough around the egdes
- Eyes: Observant, but kind.
- Mouth: Charismatic grin. Thicker lips.
- Arms: Muscular but not large. Long hands and fingers
- Legs: Athletic. Scar on his inner thigh.
- Carriage: Casual, Relaxed or ridged as a board
- Poses : Hands on his hips or arms crossed. Leaning against door frames and nurses station
- Taste in Clothing (when off duty): Clothes… Doesn’t matter what kind. Something comfortable. Prefers pants to shorts and ¾ sleeves to tees or long sleeve
- Shoes: Boots or no shoes
- Voice: Tenor
- Handedness: Left. But throws right handed.
Family
- Marital Status: N/A
- Children: N/A
- Parents: D'Amarok and S’harien Aehkhifv
- Father:Deceased - D'Amarok - Pilot of a Romulan Warship, crewed by Rekarian’s
- Mother: S'harien - Singer
- Siblings: 3 Sisters: All Younger than Nijil
- Oldest Nijil - Starfleet
- Second Born Nalah - Singer
- Third Born S'Tarleya - Junior Officer in Rekarian fleet
- Baby D’mora - Local Elementary Teacher
Pre-Starfleet Background
Nijil was the first born to D’Amarak and S’Harien, and only son. He was a baby born on the move. Ready to get into trouble, create messes and havoc and exploring beyond what was safe. He pushed the limits from the get go never afraid. Though having been such a hefty handful, his parents questioned having more. Even after getting hurt, dinged up or into trouble he was attracted to more.
At the age of 4 he walked into the deep end of the pool, and sank to the bottom. He hadn’t learned to swim yet and the adults weren’t paying close enough attention to catch it right away. He held his breath, having studied and each other’s and listen to the computer read about the functions and lessons of swimming. Those crisp blue eyes opened to see the swirl of light as it danced through the waves to the bottom of the pool. Ever so slowly it seemed, he floated up as the body will do. His dark matter hair clung to his face as he bobbed above the water. He swished his legs and threw out his arms and began to swim… when someone finally caught a glimpse of him, all were shocked. His dad jumped in to help give him support and make sure he was okay. To which Nijil grumbled at, trying to push away and do it himself.
His home town was none to special. A small area surrounded by the thickest black woods you’ve ever seen. D’da Vallia was one of a series of timber towns. Their main trade were the specialty wood they produced and custom crafted into things. So many were woodworkers or people that worked well with their hands. This was his father's hometown too. His mother was from the big city, known for its music scene and high living. Which made living in D’da Vallia difficult at times for her.
His parents met while his father was on military tour and his mother was entering the height of her music career. The crass young man, who said exactly what was on his mind made her swoon. She was willing to move in with him on the condition she was allowed to continue singing and visit the city often. Which he agreed too, of course.
Nijil was into literally everything. He could listen to people talk for hours but tended to move around a lot or tried to listen to too many at once. One of the biggest things that made him sit and be still was drawing. No grand artist, and barely shared with anyone. He could focus on the art, the lines and shading. He tried landscape, but found it not flawed enough. And so, he sketched people. But not just their faces that one saw in passing. But the layers that seemed to be hidden just beneath the surface. He drew their darkness and gray cloud. And also their beauty and joy. This would be something he would continue doing, though his time to do it less and less. This would also start his interest in anatomy.
Whenever he wasn’t in school, getting into trouble, or drawing, he would join his father on the old war ships D’Amarak piloted. They were worn Romulan Warbirds, kept, modified and revamped from when the Romulans were there. He would visit the men and women who fought and sailed through the stars. It was here he got his first taste of the unique freedom of space. The vastness and wonder. To see his worlds which had seemed so huge before, look so small. It put a lot of things into perspective. It made him reconsider how he felt and how he thought. And listening to the stories? There was unquestioning interest mixed with morbid fascination. Such stories of blood and gore, war and hatred. The medical officers especially, whose perspective were scewed past recognition. He marveled at the lines they crossed, morally and otherwise. At their internal battle to save lives but also destroy their own souls and bodies. Most were drunks. When Nijil was 14 his first sister, Nalah, was born. At age 16, S'Tarleya, was born. and finally at 17, D’mora was born. He wasn't very close with them, being so many years apart in age. They were whiny, screaming things with such strong personalities to begin with. All of which seemed to clash against his. He was… less than thrilled to have siblings, though he’d never admit it. But he didn’t have much say in the matter.
He moved from home at 20 to follow his dream of becoming a doctor. More specifically, a military medic. He left for his mother’s home city to the medical campus. It was there he he realized his tolerance for people was slim. Well stupid people anyways. He started at one end of the medical spectrum with lofty goals of doing them all.
Things would change drastically though when D’Amarak was killed in action. A petty border skirmish that didn’t have to end in bloodshed. His mother, though finally settled down some, didn’t handle the stealth of her husband. For how different they were, it was a unique case of true, everlasting love. Nijil was nearly 22 and only a chiropractic degree under his belt so far. He didn’t want to come home, but did so. Not showing that he was anything but generous and willing to help. His mother suffered from depression, which made raising three girls nearly impossible. Nijil stepped up as best he could, taking over most household chores and general care of the baby girls. He learned to be gentle, caring and it was then he began to truly care for his siblings. Though, he’d never admit it, it was also then the idea of having his own kids seemed more a desire and less and far fetched idea. Growing up in a house full of girls taught Nijil many things about the opposite gender. None of which was helpful in the act of flirting or dating. But in understanding and being helpful. He learned very quickly how to clean and cook. And even how to style hair and make minor adjustments to clothing. He refused to learn to knit and sew though. But his mother would always say, any man who can take care of themselves will be able to take care of others better.
When his sisters became old enough to take of themselves, he would finally make the decision to go back to medical school. But rather than complete his school on Rekar III, he made the choice to join Starfleet.
Starfleet Academy Background
Starfleet Academy would be something different, new, exciting and completely out of Nijil’s element. He was almost 30 when he joined. His youngest sister was 12. The age gap was instantly noticed, as most were younger. Now granted for his people, who had the lifespan of Vulcans or Romulans, he was still fairly young. But while many were off to parties, clubs, and out to get to know a variety of people, he was there to accomplish something. Because up until this point, everything seemed incomplete. Half started and stopped when something else came up.
During this time, he would begin a long desaaterious journey into addition to prescriptions. While on a survivalist tour, something field medics, marines and the like were required to be certified in, there would be an accident. Nijil and anything were being up the rear while scaling lose rocky cliff sides on Brikar. One of the officers above them slipped, sending him, rocks and boulders down towards Nijil and the other officer. Timstin was his name, a agile up and coming marine. There hadn’t been time to react, to move, to help. Only tackled by unforgiving stone. Nijil has been sent flying, only to crash against the earth with immense force. It felt like what an egg being dropped felt like. Bones crushed and muscle screamed in agony. At least he lived. Timstin hadn’t been so fortunate. A crushing blow to the head.
The back still hurts, that much was true. He pushed his body to hard and was unforgiving at the best of times. But drugs helped. Pain relievers and strong opioids, anything to dull the ache or pinch. Anything to make it so he could keep going. And for the most part that’s true. He could never sit still as a child, and now was the same. No way he could be confined or without work. But back problems create more problems, and didn’t go away, even if you wish really, really hard.
There were classes he enjoyed, and ones he dreaded. But all in all he did alright. Friends weren’t something he walked away with either. To crass and unusual sense of humor scared some while his overall morbid fascination made the rest go running. He did get along with the teachers. Even kept in touch with a few. He had been the same age or closer to them when he was there. So it was much less teacher/student.
There had been one though, an older woman. And by older - meaning made him seem like a spring chicken, still wet behind the ears. She seemed to fancy long talks with him. Which was nice, seeing that he was about as socially capable as a new student in a new school. Only all of the time. It wasn’t until he was stationed that he realized the only reason he passed her class was being she liked his company…
Starfleet Background
Nijil never stayed in one place for very long. He learned everyone’s name and immediate medical file and would be transferred to another ship overnight. Something that became just a lifestyle he accepted. It did keep things challenging and changing.
His first posting was on a Chimera class ship, the USS Day’s Dawn. It was left in Bojorian space, meant to help pick up the pieces left behind from the war. They chased down a few war criminals, but mostly spent their time planetside or running in circles. A very opinionated Rekarian mentioned more than once the lack of actual work they did. His captain at the time was looking forward to retirement and chose to not dangerously engage anyone. It meant a lot of downtime for Nijil. A good and bad thing. Luckily the Bojorians felt free to call upon his skills from time to time.
Next a Luna class starship, the USS Fredrick. Who ever came up with these names tended to focus on Terran ones. He was transferred there six months after the Day’s Dawn. Apparently he had pushed the captain enough that he got rid of him. The Fredrick was moderately more interesting. They scored the boarder between the federation and the Breen. The eccentric people were known to push the limits, constantly checking for weakness. They had licked their wounds but seemed unphased by the Dominion war. The Fredrick would come to blows, where a portion of the crew were killed or captured and the rest barely escaping in escape pods. Nijil was one of those captured. Drugged to oblivion, to spill some top secret. Or at least that was the idea. He wouldn’t remember much from his time aboard their ship. Sometimes, after a long day, he would close his eyes and see minuscule flashbacks. Always hazy and disorienting. He does, however clearly remember waking up planetside and stumbling about in the dark and falling… luckily there was a small pond of deep water. It was was connected to greater oceans through underground canals. What made it not so lucky were the carnivorous eel like serpents that decided to take hefty chucks from his torso and legs. In fact, one bit so hard that it tore open his inner thigh. He was worried it was going after his junk. After a desperate swim and underwater fight, he made it to land. A few days later they were all picked up. Apparently courtesy of the Breen giving their people a call. With no ship now, those remaining of the crew were forced to relocate.
Next Olympic class, the USS Britannia Petite. An name suiting the captain, not the ship. A dwarf of a Terran, well two inches above. Captain Lucy Endymion. She was a good captain with a good ship, who took in stragglers from across the fleet. And made it her personal mission to get to know all of them on a personal level. He respected her greatly, but unmercifully teased her about her height. When she became a captain, people seemed intimidated by her, and unwilling to treat her like any other person. Him, being one of the few exceptions, despite being only a LtJg. They became fast friends and still keep in contact. When he left, after being reassigned to a ship in need of medical personal, she had offered to write a letter of recommendation. Or better yet, ask to let him stay. A sweet sentiment, but he was needed elsewhere, and where he was needed he went.
The Nebula class starship, USS Mazak, was probably one of the most uneventful ships he’d ever been on. They touched base with their outstanding colonies, and met up with allied worlds - the ones not apart of the Federation. But ran drills all day because the captain had some kind of fetish for them. As soon as he could he jumped ships. This cargo running diplomatic ship was simply not for him.
Next was an Intrepid class ship. The USS Ingersoll. There he met germs, and dangerous fungi and all the things that could go wrong when scientists were aloud to run amok. The science based ship seemed to be the most notorious for getting into trouble. Either because they went somewhere they weren’t suppose to or did something they weren’t suppose to. It was the most … comical ship he’d ever been on. As if it were a never ending run of the Black Adler. The captain and majority of the crew were scientists - mad ones at that. With two medics - including him. And a handful of engineers looking to make a breakthrough in warp drives. Which roughly translated to they nearly blew the ship up regularly. Nijil have to fend of viruses and diseases. He got pretty sick a few times. One things caused temporary blindness and sweaty palms. Another gave him Crohn's symptoms. Once he was laid up with something like the chicken pox - imagine someone covered in green spots- only it burned instead of itched with a fever so high he should have been in a coma - others where. But drugs, caffeine and enough alcohol to burn back, he managed to limp through. Even found how to cure it.
Constitution class, the USS Constitution- A. He managed to get away from the crazies after two of the Scientists were arrested for attempted genocide. This is where he met a CMO who could be a cratankorous as him. He got along well with Wyn, they both were no bull kind of people. More interested in fixing things rather than listening to excuses. Nijil appreciated that greatly. Also where he met Alize Sorenson, an incredibly attractive mortician. The ship was incredibly fond of relationships of all kinds. Bonds, friends or more. Probably the most caring ship he’d even been apart of. Though, he never felt like he fit in. To dark, to unforgiving. With a severe lack of patience and bedside manner he was seen as more of a jerk then anything. Granted that was what most people thought of him. It was just more noticeable there it seemed to him. Though Alize countered that. And awkwardly they danced around each other, neither making the first move. But of course, they were both black sheep, awkward ducklings.
Starbase 118 was the first Starbase he’d been stationed too. And for all the ones he could land on, it was the largest of them all. A conglomerate of cultures. He wasn’t sure what to expect, an unusually Captain and even more so CMO. When he came, he found Ezo to be a light hearted woman and reasonable to work with. Of course there was the night she made fun of his beard… But she was very admired by those around. So when she left, there was a noticeable missing part of Sickbay. Something he wasn’t any good at filling. But he was more than a little pleasantly surprised when Alize showed up, in all her glory. A fine posting for a fine woman, mortician and forensic science. Here he found lots to do. Working with the marines as emergency medical response teams, to learning about different worlds. Specifically Klingon - which was a fancy of Alize. He liked what he’d seen and was more then willing to delve in deeper with her. Although the night his mother and siblings came… forever grateful for slipping away with Alize to get rather sloshed in a local pub. After much griping about no CMO, Captain Taybrim surprised him with the position...
More coming soon!
PNPC's
Hopper, Penny - Weapons Repair officer
O'Grady, Pepper - Science
Rustyy Hael - Base Engineer And civilians consultant
Snezhana, Masha - Security
Cecil - Retired officer, owner of "Shorty's Sweets"
Ari Shennar - Trauma/Recovering Therapist
Gard, Jack - Engineer
Gard, Tabitha - Civilian
Solek - Diplomat/Cultural Advisory Consultant
Attikus Rundstrom - Scientific Statician
NPC Listing · StarBase 118 Ops Crew Manifest · Crew History
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