From UFStarfleet LCARS
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| Biographical information | Photo | ||||
| Name: | Chrystian Arthur Merlin (Male) | Date of Birth (Age): | 070710 (26) | 
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| Species: | Human/Allasomorph (shapeshifter) | Place of Birth: | Deep Space 4 | ||
| Nationality: | United Federation of Planets, Earth, United States of America | Ethnic Origin: | Caucasian | ||
| Languages: | English, Minimal Spanish, Minimal Klingon | Religion: | Christian | ||
| Physical information | |||||
| Height: | 5' 8" | Weight: | 175 lbs | ||
| Hair: | Copper Colored | Eyes: | Blue | ||
| Blood type: | O- | Medical Restrictions: | None | ||
| Other Important Medical Information: | None | ||||
| Other Identifying marks/Features: | None | ||||
| Family | |||||
| Maritial Status: | Single | Spouse | None | ||
| Children | None | Mother | SaraElizabeth Mortmagus | ||
| Father | Jacob Arthur Merlin, assigned as an assistant to a minor liason to a portion of the Klingon fleet during the Dominion War. Killed while serving on a Klingon Bird of Prey in 2375. | Siblings | GoodWilliam Jewell | ||
| Starfleet Records | |||||
| Rank: | Commander | Position: | Unassigned | ||
| Current Assignment: | None | Branch: | Engineering | ||
| Sector: | 001 | Service Number: | 1029 | ||
| Status: | Active | ||||
| Biography | |||||
| My parents are definitely the biggest influence in my life. My father was a minor official in a Federation Alliance/Klingon Fleet liason office. My father loved working with Klingons. He was not a large man insisted on playing that Klingon head-butt game with the officers that came through his office. The Klingons found it terribly surprising, not that he fell down all the time, but that he kept coming back for more. They were even more surprised after my dad had a thin duranium plate bonded to his skull. He told me that it still hurt like hell, but at least he stopped going down. When the Klingons learned of what he had done they laughed harder than I'd ever heard them laugh, but came to respect my father. The saw his refusal to give up or even back down as honorable. In the year 2375 my dad volunteered to ship out with a Klingon Bird of Prey that was short a communications officer. His ship was damaged in battle and he assisted in repairing the engine core. He had to improvise some of the connections, and was killed when a power coupling blew. He would never know that his modifications to that engine core led to the Klingon fleet's immunity to the Breen's power-draining weapon. At his funeral, there were more Klingons then humans in attendance. Although my father had not died in battle, the battle-hardened Klingon warriors of the ship my father served on secured for him his place in Sto-vo-kor. While the rest of the Klingon fleet was harassing the Dominion with rapid raids on soft targets, they attacked a fortified outpost destroying it completely. Remembering the days they used to play the head-butting game the Klingons that knew my father used to say , "his head was Human, but his heart was Klingon."
When people used to ask me what division I would choose when I graduated, I told them that my hair is blue for exactly the same reason my uniform will NOT be. My mother used to take me to her lab sometimes to watch me. I was a bright enough young lad of 6 and carefully watched the way my mother mixed compounds and tested results. So one day when my mother accidently left her lab unlocked and unattended, I crept in and did as I had seen she do. I had just enough sense to lower my head as the beaker in front of my face exploded. I was unconscious for 2 days and when I awoke, my hair on top of my head was a bright blue. The odd thing was that I was not able to permanently change it back for many years I finally accepted it and now wear it as a reminder to always bear the consequences of my actions. My mother was born on Kether, the habitable moon of Daled IV hundreds of years ago ("birthdays" have little meaning to a race of immortals). Relationships between Allasomorph clans are very complicated and for some reason I never fully understood and in 2355 another family claimed a death-feud against her's and her parents sent her away for safety to Klavidia III, a world my people recognized as neutral and therefore safe. It was there she met my father. He was negotiating some details of a treaty that would allow Starfleet to study the toxic atmosphere of the planet. He arrived at a orbital platform at the same time as my mother. My mother was traveling with a Human-crewed freighter so had taken Human form during the trip. My mother & father bumped into each other on the station and kept in contact for the 6-month treaty review process. Mom told him all about who she was, & what she was and dad told her about meeting his first klingon and all about the inner-workings of inter-species negotiations and somewhere along the way they fell in love. When my father left to begin a new position on Deep Space 4 with the SF Diplomatic Corps, my mother went with him. They were married on-board ship during the trip. A few years later, I came along. Although my mother was in Human form, went through a Human birth, and had a Human baby my cells, although they look human, aren't and carry the same ability as hers to transform. My mom only taught me a few transformations, the most important was into our "natural" form, which resembles a glowing ball of energy, and which for me still feels odd. As far as I was concerned my natural form was Human and it took me many, many years to (very nearly) perfect the translucent, glowing form of the True Allasomorphs. Allasomorphs assume shapes by sampling or "tasting" DNA and incorporating that information into our bodies energy matrix. When we shift, we sort of "twist" ourselves until the code matches the sample. I've seen my mother reach out and touch a bird that was new to her and before she had withdrawn her hand, feathers were sprouting where only fingers were before. I have to sift through the DNA information, twisting it this way and that to figure how it fits. To this day, I have trouble with anything but Humanoid shapes. With her, it was as natural as breathing, with me it was as natural as breathing water. School was uneventful (for the most part). I kept my true nature to myself and I got into very little trouble (as far as my parents know) which was not easy. DS4 became a jumping off point of sorts for study of a race of Proto-humanoids on Ruah IV and there were many different humanoid species living on the station including some Klingon families from a minor house in the Scientist caste. The Klingon kids would tease me about my size and blue hair calling me Andorian-head. When I tried to point out that Andorians had white hair and it was there skin that was blue they would beat me up. I never complained. My Allasomorph physiology made me very resiliant and it wasn't long before I became strong enough to stand toe-to-toe with the much larger Klingons. The first time I stood up to them & knocked one of THEM down earned me their respect, and later their friendship. That was when I shared with them my ability to shapeshift and true to their word, the kept my secret as they would have their own. We grew up learning Klingon martial arts together. I never had much use for edged weapons, but became quite adept at hand-to-hand combat and would still spar with my batleth-wielding friends. As a result of my long association with Klingons, that has became my 2nd best shape (after my "natural" Allasomorph shape). In college I studied with a Vulcan professor and roomed with an Andorian and so added those shapes to my repetoire. My most impressive Humanoid shape is of a race I could never find a name for. A troupe of entertainers came through the University township. With them, they had one of the largest, humanoids I've ever seen. It was in a cage on display. They called it a Drake, but I'm not sure that was the true name. One night before the carnival left, I snuck in and got a close look at the creature. It was huge and muscular, with wings, and a flaming tail. I needed to get near enough to touch it. The cage was thickly barred and yet not one of the bars was straight. All had been burnt, bent and all but broken. The creatures tail hung out of the cage between the bars. I crept up behind it, and reached out to "taste" the tail with my finger when the tail whipped away and I found myself staring into the face of the monster. I fell to my back and stared up at the glowing embers of eyes above me. "What do you want, shapeshifter?" came the dead, gravelly voice. The heat of his breath dried the sweat of my face. I couldn't speak. How could he have possibly known... "Ah," it said. "I see. You want to be like me?" his laugh was defeated. "Go away, little one." he said as he slowly turned his back on me. "Before they find you and put YOU in a cage." "Give me your strength and I will free you." I said. He turned back to me and I saw a device on his neck. He reached up to touch it. "They paralize my voice before I go on display." came the voice of despair. "Sap my strength. I cannot curse my captors." his head dropped, "I cannot even cry out for help. I can only make animal sounds." "Let me help you." I said. "Two can do what one cannot." His red-hot eyes narrowed on me, "Why risk your freedom to help me regain mine?" "Because you are right. It could easily be me in that cage. And if it were," I said "I would want your help." After a moment, he held out his hand to me and I reached out to clasp it. As the information streamed into my head, it felt like the most natural thing in the world for me, the patterns were there, they flowed into my cells and changed them. In a matter of a few seconds, there were 2 monsters on this planet. I located the door and grasped the bars on one side, he the ones on the other. Duranium creeked & squealed & cracked as 4 massive arms wrenched the door from it's place and made a space big enough to struggle free. I heard feet running this way and turned to face the oncomers. I drew breath and as soon as I saw 5 heads appear around a corner I let out a deep throated roar that stopped them in their tracks and sent them scurrying away. When I turned back to the cage, it was empty. I turned and ran, returning to my Human form as I fled. As I peeled around a corner, I ran into a group of rough-looking men. Thinking quickly, I struggled to get loose, "He's coming this way!" I screamed. "Don't let him get me! Don't let him get me!" The group turned & fled. I made it back to my dorm room without further incident. The next morning, I read that one of the carny's small shuttle craft had been stolen. It was the best lesson I had at school. What is right for the greatest, is right for the least of us. My father used to tell me, "Injustice can only exist if decent people allow it." That night, I decided to join Starfleet. After graduation, I began to express the desire to join Starfleet to my mother. I told her that I wanted to understand other cultures, rectify injustice, and make the galaxy a better place. I wanted to make a difference, the way my father did. My mother was reluctant but eventually acquiesed. She eventually returned home to Kether where she lives to this day. I've been there a few times. Met my grandparents, who were "very impressed" by my small list of humanoid shapes (To be honest, I'm not even sure they could tell one apart from the other). The were most concerned by my desire to join Starfleet, though. So I told them about rescuing the Drake, and showed them the form, and explained how that helped to make my decision to join Starfleet. With all their impressive shapshifting abilities, and the years of civil war, at their heart my people are hopeless romantics and the story of a midnight rescue & desperate escape fired their imaginations. Had one of us been a female Drake and the two of us escaped together to be married, I'm sure they would have burst into tears (well, the Allasomorph equivelent, anyway which are like tiny stars that float up and away). | |||||
| Personal / Professional History | Starfleet Service Record | ||||
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| Academy Record | |||||
| College of Command | College of Operations | College of Engineering | |||
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| College of Medical Sciences | College of Galactic Sciences | College of Security Sciences | |||
| No records on file. | No records on file. | No records on file. | |||
| College of Intelligence | College of Xenology | College of History | |||
| No records on file. | No records on file. | No records on file. | |||
| TRACOM | Miscellaneous | Weapons Qualifications | |||
| No records on file. | No Records on file. | None. | |||
| Medical History | Educational History | ||||
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No records on file. | ||||
| Promotion History | Awards | ||||
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