Trak'dar (Radda)

Vulcan Starship Officer


Trak’dar began his journey into the sciences at the young age of seven. Son to a distinguished Vulcan Starfleet officer, he had some fairly big shoes he was expected to fill. Born on Vulcan, Trak’dar lived out his early years among his own. Between pursuing education and time with his friends as a child, he lived what he considered a normal life until late one morning when his father was offered a new position which would require him and his family to move to Earth. Trak’dar’s father took it almost without discussion (it was a logical progression), and Trak’dor was forced to say goodbye to his friends and old life.

A new chapter began in Trak’dar’s life, as he and his mother sought to find their way in a different society. Trak’dar’s father routinely was extremely busy with his new position, so the family was forced to adapt to Earth by themselves. Trak’dar made new friends as he resumed his education, but not many. He found it harder to connect with humans and there were few Vulcans around with which to associate, fewer still that he got along with. He picked up his nickname, Radda, to fit in easier with everyone.

A few of Radda’s friends introduced him to their computer club, which he was very interested in, and he quickly learned many different systems and programming styles. Surpassing most of his peers very quickly, computers became a passion. His savvyness for computers also helped in a lot of his classes, so he developed it into his main academic focus.

Radda tried hard to make his mother happy, and to impress the father that never seemed to be around. He got excellent grades, and came close to the top of his classes. Nearing graduation, his mother noted his father had not been leaving his usual messages or communications and had not visited home in months, which had happened once before, but which was very unusual.

One week before Radda was to graduate, two officers in crisp uniform arrived in the morning before he left for school, faces lowered as they relayed the news that Radda’s father would not be coming home, thanking the family for their sacrifice. He took it better than most would, but his mother was devastated, however little she showed it due to Vulcan emotional control. Details were not very clear on what had happened, but from what information the Federation had, his father’s crew had been in negotiations outside of Federation space. They were in the final drafting stages of their agreements when a local Talaxian merchant, one of two known in the entire quadrant, sold them out. Parties unknown boarded the ship, and all communication was lost, crew either missing or dead. No other details were ever released to Radda or his mother.

Despite the shock of loss and ever the logical Vulcan, Radda attended his graduation. Afterwards neither he nor his mother knew quite what to do. In an effort to give both himself and his mother something to do and hopefully take their minds off of recent events, Radda enrolled the two of them in local community service, but he never really knew if it worked.

A few months later, Radda began looking into the Starfleet Academy entrance requirements. It all looked so interesting, and was where his father had started his career, but the competition to get in was intense and most failed. Indeed, to get into the academy was to compete with millions for a shot at a few thousand seats. Surprisingly, Radda’s initial submission was accepted, and he was invited to write the entrance examinations. It was grueling; two solid weeks of intense examination on everything from science, history, ethics, strategy games, verbal reasoning, not to mention rigorous mental and physical screening. The academy only accepts the best. Two years later, Radda was enrolled in the program. A couple of his friends from school had also found their way in as well, a small comfort to him.

It was a quick transporter ride to the academy training facility, and Radda hated leaving his mother, but he viewed this as the best way to perhaps fill the new gap in both of their lives. He would visit her often as he could, easy enough as technology allowed someone to cross the planet in seconds if required, and take after his father as much as he could.

His courses were challenging, and Radda delved deep into subjects such as experimental biology, non-linear differential quantum mechanics, and his favorite: crypto-synaptic bio-gel programming. The schedule was demanding, and despite the fact that he was among the brightest, he still struggled to keep up with the material, but when he did have some time to spare, he tried to study subjects outside of the curriculum that were enjoyable. His visits to his mother with news of his training and education seemed to at least put a smile on her face, or the Vulcan equivalent at any rate.

Weeks faded into months, and months into years. His last year in Starfleet Academy was his most exciting. Classes were more intense, discussions more interesting, instructors more vigilant as they marked those destined for command positions, and the excitement of completion was upon all the trainees. On their final shakedown cruise, everyone aboard was as excited as could be. They had made it through as a team, and everyone was enjoying their final “class” together. About half-way through however, reports started rapidly coming in and alarms chirped on almost every station.

The cadets buckled down and went to their past years of training, the number of which was dependent on which track each cadet took, to figure out how to get through what everyone thought was another test. It quickly became apparent that this was nothing of the sort, as subspace eddies and gravitational sheering stressed the ship. Indeed many of the cadets had never seen anything like it before. While the command officers distributed throughout the ship shouted orders and tried to save the ship, Radda worked his way through his console readings and tried to decipher what was happening, quickly concluding that the warp resonance from the ship’s core was at odds with the subspace distortion they were passing through. His extra classes, jack-of-all-trades skill set, and immense computer knowledge came together in one moment.

With some mad scrambling and a bit of help from his fellow cadets, Radda kept a cool head and managed to preserve his ship and was credited with quite possibly saving the lives of those on-board, preventing what surely would have been a horrible disaster in Starfleet Academy history. He was awarded the rank of Ensign, which his companions all agreed he deserved, and was shortly given a posting aboard the USS Miranda. As Radda relaxed in the deep space transport and contemplated his future career, he studied what would soon be his new home. A quiet position on an older ship, sure to be a perfect slow start to a newly minted officer’s Starfleet career, and a chance to get the field experience he so badly needed for his rank. This is thus where Radda’s story truly begins.

Trak'dar (Radda)

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