K`rilim Nsslano
Male

Place of Origin: Cait

K`rilim is tall and leanly muscular, with a deep baritone voice. His fur coloring is predominantly coal black, while his eyes are bright amber with flecks of gold, giving him the appearance of a large bipedal panther. The dark markings of his coat are broken along his arms, where the fur lightens to gray, and ultimately to white as “gloves.”

K`rilim is aggressive, cunning and ambitious – not altogether uncommon traits for a Caitian when it comes to duty. Always moving and energetic, K`rilim is never at lack for motivation. Not one to have a flare for dramatics, K`rilim can often be blunt and very direct in his interaction with others, though he does show empathy as needed. He does not often go by the established “checklist,” and prefers to do things his way; often times he improvises, adapts and overcomes with different angle approaches.

K`rilim is often at odds with his two (2) older sisters who went into StarFleet as Officers [gasp] as opposed to his choice of Enlisted. He is not completely sensitive to his own situation, however and staunchly supports the role of the Enlisted as the backbone of the Fleet. To that end, K`rilim seeks to stay away from the politics of it all, and wishes only to do is his duty with a crisp “aye, aye, sir.”

K`rilim can be shrewd, cunning, and patient while performing his duties, however can also be distracted by “squirrels.” A constant titer of movement, K`rilim is often pacing, moving or just merely fidgeting while performing tasks. He can often be viewed as impatient by those who do not know him, however he merely moves at his own speed, and expects others to move with him to perform the tasks at hand.

A bane and a boon, K`rilim often looks more to the ends rather than the means, and has the capacity to see the “end game.” A burning curiosity which extends from “why?” to “what happens next?” plagues K`rilim from time to time, though he learned long ago to curb his outside voice; if Fleet wanted him to have curiosity, they would have issued it to him.

K`rilim shows a distinct want to be a “go-to guy,” and show his ability to be a reliable asset. Perhaps the driving force in such is his personal need to prove to his older sibs the fact that the Enlisted are the true force behind Fleet, and not just the Officers who tend to grab the limelight.

K`rilim’s younger years were pretty much the same as your average Caitan, without anything worthy or note or remark. Born the youngest of three siblings and the sole male child, K`rilim has often been at odds with his two (2) sisters. That being said, family ties have always been close in Caitian society, so the competition and rivalry had always been more juvenile bickering.

As both of K`rilim’s parents were involved in realm of medical sciences [his father a medical doctor specializing in xenomorphology, and his mother a xenobiologist], it was little wonder that both K`rilim and his sisters were steered in some manner towards such. K`rilim’s fancy turned more towards the practical aspects of the medical field as opposed to the more academia bound territories of scientific study. Always the willing assistant, K`rilim would often assist either his parents or his elder sibs in their studies. Though he held interest in the medical field, his exposure towards the applied sciences, and politics displayed in both the academic field and “professional” medical associates led him early on to wonder if such was for him. As a Cait that saw himself in a support role throughout his young life, he often saw how credit went to those with letters in front of their name, or after as opposed to the dirt-under-the-claws folks that put forth the hardest effort. K`rilim was ambitious, but he was also humble, and recognized that he found pride in the manner in which he assisted others in their work rather than taking supreme credit for a job well done.

It seemed only natural to K`rilim to join StarFleet as his elder sibs had done, however he did so by Enlisting instead of applying for the StarFleet Academy. His choice was something of surprise to the rest of the family, however K`rilim paid little heed to the scoffing by his sisters who were attending the Academy and would ultimately go onto become officers. Regardless, K`rilim went on with his enlistment and Basic Recruit Training (BRT) with an eye towards becoming a Hospital Corpsman. BRT was a fair experience for K`rilim, and he learned a great deal during those many weeks as such is the design. As before, K`rilim had no designs on being posted “shoreside” in a facility, and wanted to be in the field and doing something he saw as worthwhile; he early on sought the coveted billet of FMF, and strove to prove himself as a capable candidate. Furthering his path, K`rilim breezed through his “A” school studies, and prior to his first command was sent off to Field Medical Service School (FMSS) and was selected for a FMF billet. K`rilim’s time at Parris Island was something he would always remember, with a masochistic form of nostalgia. The DI’s were unrelenting, the sandpits intolerable, and the constant push to do it better, do it faster, and do it THIS way not THAT way made for a dreary life. In the end, he knew it was all worthwhile. The time spent instilled the faith that given any situation, he could improvise, adapt and overcome any obstacle in order to accomplish the mission; or he would die trying, and die for his Marines so that they could continue the mission. The point, of course, was to NOT die, but have the poor fool on the other side die to complete your mission.

K`rilim’s first orders attached him to SFMC 3rd Division, 5th Battalion (3/5) on the USS Tasmania where he was assigned as a light patrol platoon’s corpsman. Not an outstandingly exciting post, K`rilim found himself bouncing back and forth between Independent Duty assisting in sickbay, and attending to his other duties as his Marine’s corpsman. Regardless of his feelings towards shipboard assignment, K`rilim settled himself into a routine which made the day-to-day monotony bearable. Throughout his duty post on the USS USS Tasmania, K`rilim found himself relating more towards the Marines he serviced, and spent a great deal of time with them. The typical nom de guerre of “Doc” was bestowed upon him, as well as a shortening of his name to simply “K”; his Marine associates apparently found it difficult to properly pronounce his full name, and thus shortened it in typical fashion, which quickly followed him as an acceptable address.

The routine of shipboard life was changed when the USS Tasmania received new orders to deploy along an otherwise routine survey of a youthful nebula [designated J5536.6] which was just starting to spit out even more youthful star clusters. It was during an orbital pass through a colorful arm of gases and seething radiation that an ambush was sprung against the Federation vessel by an unknown assailant. The fierce storm of radiation from the nebular clusters had caused numerous blind spots for the sensor arrays, and in one of those blind spots the first volley of fire struck the USS Tasmania in a broadside. Shields overwhelmed by the mixture of phaser fire, torpedoes and the fluxing energies from the nebula, the Federation ship roiled under the barrage. The ejection of debris from the damaged hull, as well as escaped atmosphere from numerous compartments formed a billowing halo around the wounded starship. Badly damaged, but not crippled, the USS Tasmania came about in an attempt to locate it’s attacker as well as to plot a viable escape route. Too slow to reestablish the shield array, enemy combatants had already begun to teleport aboard to take the ship.

K had been spending some time without duty in the squad bay, chatting idly with a few of the Marines from first squad and participating in the age old practice of scuttlebutt, when the deck skewed and the weakened alert came down. With practiced ease, the Marines and K donned their M3’s and took up positions for defense around the ship. In the end, fighting was fierce, and “Corpsman, front!” rang out consistently. K found himself flitting across firing lines in efforts to reach his downed companions and patch them up as well as could be done; some he could save, others he could do little but place them in psuedo-stasis for later retrieval. In the end, the Federation crew came out on top, repelling the assault and limping away from the nebula. The engagement came at a heavy cost, with many wounded as well as deaths. K himself had not escaped injury either, having been wounded when he was attending to a downed Marine in a dangerously exposed corridor. He had been heedless of the numerous glancing strikes against his M3 armor which had thankfully displaced and absorbed the bulk of the energy from the snapping beams as he raced across an open expanse and dragged a downed PFC whose armor had been holed just moments before. His M3 armor did nothing, however, when a bulkhead next to his improvised cover ruptured, exploding outward with a shower of debris and sparking conduits. K was able to shield his patient with his own body from the initial shower of debris, but both were thrown in a tangle across the corridor and into the far bulkhead. Unfortunately, the Marine PFC was irretrievable, but K survived with a few broken bones, a concussion and a healthy respect for HE energy transfer.

Once the USS Tasmania made it back to normal space, K was transferred to the nearby Starbase 45 to have some minor medical leave, and after his brief stay was issued orders for his next station aboard the USS Arbitrator. He feared that his performance on board the USS Tasmania had otherwise nixed his chances with FMF and he was doomed to a mere Fleet billet performing menial sick call duties on Starbase 45, however was pleasantly surprised. As luck would have it, he apparently showed promise and reliability under fire, and impressed a Senior Chief somewhere along the lines; K just hoped he could live up to it. His duty station on the USS Arbitrator was a foray into something more than a standard IDC deployment while riding herd in FMF, and numerous jaunts across interstellar distances brought armed confrontations. There were skirmishes along the border sectors, a few dicey sneak-n-peaks, and even a close call when a new hatched LT decided he knew better than his SNCO. Seemingly in the midst of such, it came time for K to decide whether or not he wanted to re-up his contract. He found the decision almost humorous, though even with his own thoughts pointed towards being a ‘lifer’, he gave the contrasting view a thought for perhaps half a moment. The contract extension also brought in a nice bonus as well as some inducements which did sweeten the pot just a bit.

With his re-enlistment in place, K ultimately received orders for SAR “C” School. In a practical sense, SAR was not a difficult classification for the Caitian given his natural instincts and heightened senses. It was very true that the issued equipment for a typical SAR HM would match the same, however K was able to perform such feats without augmentation. His Mark 1, Mod 0 body was well equipped to scour areas in search of “prey.” Overall he enjoyed the year of both practical and didactic training which was both a pleasant refresher and indoctrinate of new materials. Upon completion, K fully expected to be transferred back to his old posting with the USS Arbitrator as he hadn’t essentially finished the tour. He was somewhat curious when orders never really came down, and he was placed essentially in a holding Medical Support Company. When his orders came, K had mixed feelings; he was to be transferred to Camp Falkirk which was essentially a shoreside tour. He had misgivings about such, however scuttlebutt had it that a billet out at Falkirk would be vastly worth it.

Service Record
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2384 – Enlistment.

2384 – Entrance and subsequent graduation from SFBRT, orders for “A” School. Upon “A” School graduation, promoted to HA.

2384 – Received orders for FMSS.

2385 – Graduation from FMSS, qualified for IDC. Received orders for Recon IDC “C” School.

2386 – Graduated from Recon IDC “C” Schoo. Qualified for Recon FMF. Received orders for USS Tasmania.

2388 – Incident at J5536.6. Transfer to SB 45 for medical rehab. Received orders for USS Arbitrator.

2389 – Re-upped enlistment. Received orders for Recon SAR “C” School.

2391 – Graduated from Recon SAR “C” School. Qualified for Recon SAR.

2393 – Received orders for Camp Falkirk – Corpsman