[center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/zWi06vHUCSJuo/giphy.gif[/img][/center] [color=darkorange][u][b]Name[/b][/u][/color] Malachi Brown [color=darkorange][u][b]Age[/b][/u][/color] 43 [color=darkorange][u][b]Rank/Position[/b][/u][/color] Lieutenant – Chief Security Officer [color=darkorange][u][b]Race[/b][/u][/color] Human [color=darkorange][u][b]Personality[/b][/u][/color] “Controlling” is the word I would use to describe Brown. Malachi values discipline above all. That is not to say that he doesn’t have a sense of humour or that he’s highly strung, much the opposite, but due to the nature of his work Brown has a propensity to micro-manage. Malachi has a strong sense of right and wrong and sees the world in black and white. His own actions however seem exempt from this and Brown does not see the hypocrisy in sometimes compromising his principles to his own end. He is ambitious, driven, and demanding which over long periods can wear those under his command down. Brown considers those that can withstand his approach to be worthy of his respect. Once someone has earned Malachi's respect and trust he is fiercely loyal to them. Earning it however is something of a Herculean undertaking. [color=darkorange][u][b]History[/b][/u][/color] Brown grew up on a council estate in London, England. His father died before he was born and his mother spent much of Malachi’s childhood trying and failing to keep him out of trouble. With no strong male role model in his life Malachi looked to the criminal element on his estate for recognition. He fell in with a wrong crowd at a very young age and took to pretty crime for entertainment. After several brushes with the law Malachi’s mother was deemed an unfit mother and Brown became a ward of the state. Malachi was placed in almost half a dozen foster homes before one stuck. Each time he would abscond back to his old estate or wear through his welcome after some run-in with the police. Finally Brown was placed with retired Starfleet Lieutenant G. H. Russell and some semblance of security was achieved. Russell and Brown butted heads to begin with, particularly over Malachi’s refusal to attend school, but finally Brown relented to Russell’s will. For the first time in Brown’s life he became a functioning member of society. And then his mother died. Brown left Russell’s home and returned to his estate. The old man tracked him there, unmoved by the threats of violence directed towards him by Malachi’s so-called friends, and made one final appeal to Brown. Come back with him, come home, and make something of your life. For the last time Malachi left his estate in South London, the “friends” he had amassed there, and the memories of his mother that were tied to that place. The very next morning Malachi and Russell sat at Russell’s dining room table and wrote his application for the Starfleet Academy together. Malachi’s first application was rejected and Russell and the boy would spend the next year working tirelessly to hone Brown’s body and mind for the Academy. To Brown’s surprise the structure and discipline seemed to bring the most out of him and he took to it as if it were second nature. He rose each morning, undertook several hours of physical training, and spent his nights being regaled by Russell’s stories from his own Starfleet days or being rigorously tested on Starfleet protocol. Through their year of hard work Brown’s second application to Starfleet was accepted. At the Academy he would show a natural aptitude for military tactics and strategy as well as proving himself to be almost unnaturally accurate with a phaser in hand. Early on his was earmarked for Starfleet Security and would spend several years as a Security Officer on the USS Hawk before being appointed the Chief Security Officer on the USS Orion. [color=darkorange][u][b]Skills[/b][/u][/color] Brown is a physical specimen. He was lean prior to meeting Russell and has spent an inordinate amount of time on his body as part of his daily routine ever since his first Academy rejection. He is skilled in hand-to-hand combat though somewhat reliant on brute strength over technique. Against physically superior species this can leave him at a disadvantage. There are few better shots in all of Starfleet than Brown. Phasers are his forte. A combination of a steady hand and a cool head makes him deadly with a phaser in hand. Brown has an intricate knowledge of the weapons onboard USS Orion and their capabilities. He is meticulous in ensuring their maintenance and upkeep and does not trust others to handle his phaser. First and foremost though Brown plans ahead. He makes contingencies and contingencies to contingencies. Malachi is always planning, always war gaming, borne out of a fear of coming up short when he’s needed most. The first Academy rejection still weighs heavily on him and though he rarely puts voice to it his doubts as to whether he, a boy from a council estate in South London, ought to be onboard the USS Orion at all motivates much of what he does. He plans for fear of being revealed to not belong in the first place. It is both a blessing and a curse. [color=darkorange][u][b]Other[/b][/u][/color] Malachi bears a startling resemblance to twenty-first century actor Idris Elba. That fact seems entirely lost on his colleagues but Brown is convinced that Elba is a distant ancestor of his. [color=darkorange][u][b]Sample Post[/b][/u][/color] [hider=My Hider][b]Many years ago London, England[/b] G. H. Russell smiled as an uncharacteristic flicker of nerves showed on Malachi Brown’s face. The boy was something of a stoic and the past year of intense training had only hardened that. This morning was the day all that hard work came to fruition. Malachi Brown was leaving for the Starfleet Academy in less than five minutes. It brought a smile to Russell’s face to know that despite everything that had happened Malachi was still felt overwhelmed by the occasion. Russell had felt overwhelmed by it too when he had first left for the Academy all those years ago. It was good to feel overwhelmed by it. Anyone that didn’t feel overwhelmed by that kind of thing probably no place at the Academy to begin with. A little bit of caution was always a good thing. What Russell saw on Malachi’s face was more than a little bit of caution. The old man smiled wryly at his ward. “Nervous?” The second the word left his mouth the nervousness on Brown’s face disappeared. “No, sir.” It only broadened Russell’s smile. The retired Starfleet Lieutenant remembered when Malachi arrived in his home as if it were yesterday. The young man that showed up on his doorstep then was equal parts angry at the world and listless. He didn’t care less about Russell’s approval then but it was clear from his denial that had changed. A lot had changed. Russell found himself tearing up a little as he thought about how far they’d come. Far enough that Malachi calling him “sir” at a moment like this seemed out of place. “Come on, kid, there’s no need for that anymore.” Malachi nodded dutifully. “Sorry, sir.” The young man caught himself and smiled at Russell. If Malachi were able to blush the old man was sure he would have been. “Sorry, George.” In the distance Russell spotted Brown’s ride approaching and he felt the tears welling in his eyes fall from his eyelids and onto his cheeks. He thrust his skinny arms over Malachi’s broad shoulders and pulled him in close for a hug. “Listen, things are going to be a little overwhelming up there to begin with but you’ll be fine as long as you keep your head down and work hard. You hear me?” Brown patted him on the back gently and nodded in recognition. The young man’s drive pulled up in front of the pair of them and Russell felt his ward move to pull away from him. He clung on to him for a few seconds more. “I’m proud of you, kid.” Russell muttered to Brown. “Your mother would have been proud of you.” He let go of Malachi and saw the touched look on the boy’s face. He saw him search for an adequate response for several seconds before opting for two words. They said more to the old man than a thousand words might have. “Thank you,” Malachi said with a nod. Brown bent down and lifted his carry bag from the ground and hoisted it over his shoulder with a grunt. He turned to his ride and hoisted the bag inside and climbed inside. As the door shut behind him he saw the driver turn to him and mutter something, “You ready?” [center][b]*****[/b][/center] [b]Now Aboard the USS Orion[/b] A siren cutting the din of the security deck and Malachi Brown’s brow furrowed. He had been lost in thought, daydreaming about the day he’d left for the Academy, but that sound had jolted him back into life. It was a red alert. Captain Vash’s voice sounded through the comm and Malachi and his men listened in silence as she recounted the Dominion threat. Finally the Captain’s orders for Security came through and Malachi leapt into action as the Captain spoke. [center][i]“Security, ready a boarding party, as armed and armored as you can get them.”[/i][/center] The security officers looked to Malachi for instruction and the Chief Security Officer simply pointed upwards towards the bridge with a satisfied smile. “You heard the captain.” The security officers burst into life, each scrambling towards the armoury for weapons and armour, and Brown began to formulate a boarding plan in his head. Though the USS Orion had been ordered away from the fighting he had long since been preparing for this day and was determined that the Orion would succeed where other ships had faltered. Out of the corner of his eye Brown spotted a blue-skinned security officer frozen in place. Where the others were fiddling with weapons or putting on armour he seemed glued to the spot. “What’s wrong?” Brown said with a hearty slap to the young man’s side. “Are you deaf or something? Mount up, kid.” The blue-skinned security officer looked up at Malachi with eyes filled with fright. “I… I’m… I just…” “Nervous?” Brown remembered the terror he’d felt the day he’d left for the Academy and the way he’d hidden it from G. H. Russell. The old man had seen through his terror that day and Brown could see in this young man’s eyes that the moment was too big for him. He seemed afraid to admit it, ashamed even, but finally he met the Lieutenant’s gaze and nodded. “Yes, sir.” Malachi looked around at his other men, all busy preparing themselves for battle, and then leant towards the young man. For the first time in a long time Brown’s taskmaster act slipped and he channeled his foster father. His voice was soft and reassuring. “You can do this,” he muttered. The words seemed to sooth the blue-skinned young man somewhat and he smiled back at Brown. Malachi patted him on the arm reassuringly and then stared down the sights of his phaser to make sure his weapon was good and ready for what lay ahead. He looked to the men and woman, weapons in hand, and muttered a phrase they had all heard dozens of times before. “You know the rule,” Brown smiled. “No one dies.” [/hider]