CHARACTER NAME: Arkady Velchin Sjet
PLAYER NAME: Sjet
REAL NAME: Andrew Wincott
RACE: Human/Russian
GENDER: Male
AGE: 31
DATE OF BIRTH: 8th of April 2137
PLACE OF BIRTH: Hebe City, Mars
RANK: Doctor
MARITAL STATUS: Widowed
HEIGHT: Five feet eight inches
WEIGHT: 168
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Brown
LANGUAGES: Russian, English, some French, a little German, and all the fun words in the Romulan language.
EDUCATION/QUALIFICATIONS: Demois University, Starfleet Medical Academy (Express Training), Starfleet Medical Academy (Remedial Training Post War)
SERVICE RECORD: USS Sheffield, Starbase Four, USS Comet, USS Essex
Decorations: Order of Lenin, Purple Heart, Surgeons Cross
Reprimands: Insubordination numerous counts.
FAMILY: No parents to speak of, product of the Martian Childcare System. Married for six months to Niakim Kojiro, then widowed.
LIKES: Russian poetry, the one thing that can make him sound like an intellectual whilst reminding everyone his voice sounds like gravel.
DISLIKES: Romulan’s and the arrogance of those that think themselves his better.
LIMITATIONS: Anger issues: he has a temper, the sort that sits and simmers and when it boils over lands people in sickbay. In his last caution he was asked why his superior officer had reported him for striking a superior officer. His reply was simple: “He did not report it, his lackey did. When I hit someone I am mad at they do not tend to get back for a day or two.â€
STRENGTHS: Expert combat medic best suited to the rough and tumble of war than for the quiet grandeur of the operating table.
QUIRKS: Apart from being a medic and a Romulan War veteran, Arkady is also a fully licenced and union registered Asteroid Miner. How this came about was due to the orphanages on Mars kicking out kids at 16 years old, and giving them the sort of menial labour jobs that makes thick callouses on the hands and rough attitudes. This means he’s very good with his hands, and with working knowledge of vacuum operations in a space suit.
FAVORITE OR DEFINING QUOTES: “If a man is willing to die, then he must be willing to live with the fact that he might die, and so continue to exist. I am told this is the definition of courage, and not merely a by-product of corporeal thinking.â€
HOBBIES/INTERESTS: The works of Tolstoy, the philosophy of Confucius, and the music of the Beach Boys.
AMBITIONS: To make it from one day to the next, and to try and be a better person than he was yesterday.
MEDICAL PROFILE: Borderline manic depressant with a co-dependent mentality prone to dissociative anger registration. In layman’s terms he is a broken man barely held together who slips in and out of the bottle when it suits him and finds it easier to blame others for his own short comings. Continuing physical recovery is hampered by this state of mind, along with the suggestions of PTSD following the events of the USS Essex’s destruction at the Battle of Mars (Romulan War). Starfleet Medical strongly suggests that any personal requests for this officer be denied for any ship board posting.
CHARACTER HISTORY:
Born on Mars.
Raised on Mars.
Nearly died there to.
When Arkady turned sixteen he was tossed out of the orphanage with nothing but the shirt on his back and hand on his shoulder promising him work. Mars is not Earth, it’s not even Rigel or Alpha Centuari: Mars does not care if you live or if you die. If you work hard, you get to breathe recycled air and drink water that’s never known a rain cycle. If you take your mind away from that work, and dream of a better future, Mars will slam its teeth down so hard on your throat you’ll never hear yourself scream as your blood boils into steam in the perishing thin atmosphere.
Mars makes a Russian winter look warm and friendly.
He worked the mines of Shalbatana Vallis for ten years, spending a third of his life cooped up in a armoured vacuum suit using a laser drill to seek out tritanium and exotic mineral for Starfleet’s growing fleet of star ships. When the Romulan War broke out he was conscripted by the Martian Draft to fight for the glory of a pale blue dot that only came out during the day on Mars. He was tested by the recruiters, and whilst he didn’t dazzle them with any particular skill set someone decided he’d make for an average medic. Perhaps they mistook the healed scars for a working knowledge of medicine?
Three weeks of training, a data slate with some instructional videos and anatomical diagrams, and Arkady was released for active duty and expected to split arms and knits broken skulls back together. It turned out Mars had raised a good son in Arkady, who translated the million ways his home world had tried to kill him into the hundreds of millions of ways that space could kill him and those under his care. A micro particle of space dust could slip past the deflector and run the ship through like a bullet hitting a melon, or the inertial compensators could switch off during the ramp up to warp and crush the crew into red jelly beneath a few hundred gravity’s.
He soon learned that disruptor bolts and plasma torpedoes could do far, far worse as well.
Over the course of the war he served on a number of ships and stations, going from conscripted medic to very nearly professional physician. Then came the Battle of Charon, one of the final big pushes the Romulans unleashed to try and destroy mankind before the end of the war. Even today it is one of the largest concentrations of military power ever seen, with its release of energy still warbling across the galaxy as an echoing bell to mark the deaths of many on both sides. The crew of the Romulan warbird that had attacked and crippled the USS Essex during the heat of the battle knew their side had lost, and decided there and then to make their revenge present to the surviving crew. The small nuclear power Comet class cruiser had joined the battle with a crew of one hundred, of which seven survived to see the end of the battle following the ejection of her core and its subsequent detonation by Chief Engineer Niakim Kojiro (See attached marriage/death certificate). The hazy nature of that ships status during the battle meant the crew were allotted the title of ‘active combatants’ instead of ‘prisoners of war’, so legally what happened wasn’t a war crime. Under that same definition pulling a fly apart by a sadist blade is not a war crime either, it’s just sick.
Currently Arkady Sjet is the only surviving member of the Essex’s crew remaining alive to this date, the others having found a release from whatever demons have plagued them and other R-War vets since the end of hostilities. What one friend suggested was that a vacation of sorts was needed, time away from the wreckage strew orbits of the Outer Sol System and the continual beating of the media in regards to the Romulan menace still waiting beyond the solar system.
And a nice long exploration mission will give him plenty of time to heal, and perhaps, forgive himself.
