Adrea Seo

Adrea was born on the cusp of a tragedy aboard the USS Bohr. The science vessel was boarded by Breen, killing much of the crew before being repelled. As her mother Evoras lay dying, Adrea was delivered and passed to her father Myung who held his wife’s hand as she passed away from injuries incurred during the attack. He raised her as a single parent, often calling on friends at the embassy and fellow officers for guidance to show her as much of her mother’s culture as she could without sending Adrea to her grandparents for long stretches of time. He never remarried, instead he focused his time on helping Adrea grow into a well rounded person.

And she did eventually. Even in space Adrea had been the wild child running barefoot through the ship laughing or finding new and interesting places to hide that she really shouldn’t have been. She hated having her hair brushed, was in love with the word ‘why’ and learned like a sponge. Adrea had always read well above her age level- argued like a tiny lawyer- and had a million hobbies and side interests that rotated by the week. By the time she’d hit her preteens the constant flux had narrowed down to a few very strong interests. Then in her teens pared down even more. By twenty two she was ready to enter the Academy after much coaching from her father and his fellow crewmates to come join them amongst the stars.

Though a very good student, Adrea was all over the place, piling on extra classes, activities, clubs. The access to new mediums and new people was a heady thing that took her a bit to get control over. When she graduated it must have been a relief that she was unleashed on some other responsible party who could shape her down into a quieter, tamer medical officer than the passionate and exuberant officer that left. It hadn’t been managed during her first tour aboard the Delaware. Or her second aboard the Vincent Rossi. It wasn’t until she was contacted by one of her father’s crewmates that he had passed away in his sleep, and they were investigating the why.

They got what they wanted: Adrea became the quiet, studious, focused crewman almost overnight. She withdrew to deal with her loss that took over a decade to get over. All of her outlets and interests had withered away. Work was her singular focus. It was her existence. She weathered raids and skirmishes and border duty and long hauls with the same quiet introspection and drive for perfection until one random day in the beginning of the year of 2400 Adrea snapped. She trashed her own sickbay then sat in the middle of the chaos and wept bitter, soul wrenching, inconsolable tears that no one could figure out why.

A specialist was called in who promptly swept Adrea off to Vulcan to help her regain her self again. Several months were spent in long discussion and sleepless nights. Her emotions were continually prodded and questioned. She was pushed to pick up a paintbrush, clay, verse. Taken on tours of museums and bombarded with music from dozens of cultures, not just vulcan. She wasn’t treated like a vulcan she was told because she wasn’t one, but that didn’t mean that she could deny either side of her biological makeup and all of the traits and tendencies that went along with it. Eventually she was released back to Starfleet with a clean bill of mental health and reassigned to a fresh start on Outpost Houtman.