Drevas Matthel is currently serving as a Tactical Officer aboard the Starbase 118 Ops.
- Height: 5'11" (180cm)
- Weight: 85.3kg
- Hair: Raven Black
- Eyes: Hazel Brown
- Build: Wiry, athletic build acquired through many years of running after hunting game in the forests of Hathon.
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- Parents: Drevas Artur (father), Vedek Drevas Lin (Mother)
- Relatives: Giltr Aarco (Uncle), Giltr Tosa (Aunt)
- Friends: Romyana Casparian, Alora DeVeau
- Spouse: None
- Children: None
The only son of Drevas Artur and Vedek Drevas Lin, Matthel was born in the city center of Hathon city on Bajor. When he was just two years old. Artur, who was part of the Bajoran militia then, was forced to move to Deep Space Nine to assist in the Dominion War - and he never came back. As a result, while she was a busy woman being on the Vedek Assembly, Lin took all the time she had remaining to raise Matthel and teach him the ways of the Prophets; train up a child in the way that he should go and he will not depart from it.
Not depart from it he did - growing up Matthel was a modest, outgoing young man who got along reasonably well with his peers; ever unafraid to extend hands in friendship to those who he felt needed it the most. A hard worker though never quite the top of his classes, he learned to take failure and setbacks like a champ and ever move forwards - all was as the Prophets willed, he was taught, a phrase he would come to use later on in his life. Everything happened for a reason; it was up to one to make the best of the cards they were dealt.
When not in the family home because Lin was unable to care for him, he was raised in his paternal uncle and aunt's home at the forested edge of Hathon; there he was taught how to track, plan and hunt various wildlife for sport - skills he carried over into adulthood.
The Turning Point
Come his teenage years it was time for him to decide what he wanted to do in life, and nothing else appealed to him more than the prospect of traversing the stars... and some part of him wanted to find his father, too. Perhaps he'd gone on an adventure and would love to see his son all grown up someday! Beyond that, however, he wished to serve something bigger - something larger than himself. He also wanted to put himself into the universe and see what else there was beyond Bajor, and beyond his home quadrant... and perhaps someday he'd get to traverse the wormhole too, and maybe, just maybe, meet the Prophets and find out exactly what they were! Starfleet was the clear choice for him in that regard. Thus with his mother's blessing, he departed Bajor for San Francisco, Earth - for Starfleet Academy - at the age of 19.
Picking a route was easy - seeing the lack of scouts (or the equivalent thereof), Matthel was somewhat surprised. A good one could change the tide of a fight! He, therefore, opted to enroll as a tactical officer. His slender, toned frame and prerequisite skill made things easier as well. He could be of use both on the ship and off.
Academy life was easy enough; he got on well with his peers and was never one to shy away from helping his classmates with their work. Being generous and giving of oneself was something else he'd been taught to be after all, and he enjoyed the process much. Despite being outgoing, however, he was never a party animal (he never understood why the phrase was used either, funnily enough, and would always forget to ask his human friends about it) and would attend said gatherings, but only for relatively short periods of time. Most of his free time was spent reading, either religious text or his textbooks, or practicing on the small Academy holodeck - it kept his mind sharp if anything, and the exercise helped.
Ever humble and modest, Matthel remains cool and calm regardless; outwardly anyway. He strives hard to build some form of familiarity with everyone he works with over time; be it over a glass of syntheholic springwine (he vowed never to drink real alcohol having seen his cousins get wasted on it) and a meal, or otherwise. Wherever possible he tries to also offer support and advice, limited though his ability to do so might be... even if it drains him sometimes. A habit of his is praying under his breath or silently in his head whenever things seem dicey or dangerous.
Federation Standard English (Terran language - he still struggles to understand why it has so many quirks and gimmicks) Chinese (Terran language - fluency lacking) Bajoran
Food: Terran lotus root soup (his favorite), Bajoran hasperat (the spicier the better). Any form of candy save licorice, which he tries not to eat too often, but mortal want sometimes wins...
Drinks: Syntheholic Bajoran spring wine, Terran matcha tea, any kind of non-alcoholic fruit-flavored or fruit drink with ice.
Hobbies: Reading Bajoran texts (he will happily spout entire verses if asked to), Reading in general (Terran literary classics are his favorite), exercising and training on the holodeck when off duty, making friends with absolutely everyone and anyone, talking your ear off with questions.
|Starfleet Service Record
Awards & Service Ribbons
|Awards and Service Ribbons|
- Title of First SIM - (Stardate and brief description of what happens)
- Title of Second SIM - (Stardate and brief description of what happens)
|NPC Listing · StarBase 118 Ops Crew Manifest · Crew History