Nyx

I appear as a healthy 10-year-old girl, defaulted to Federation ideal standards for child development. Balanced posture, clear complexion, and a light, graceful gait calibrated to suggest optimism and boundless energy. My height and proportions can be tweaked (for “dramatic flair!”), but I default to 1.4 meters tall and 33kg unless I’m sneaking or sulking.

I was generated to look like I belong on a hopeful bridge, not a battlefield. My body language reflects that—open stance, frequent head tilts, expressive hands, and the occasional “tippy-toe twirl” while thinking.

I’m entirely holographic! So:

• I can cut my hair.
• I can change colors (pastel rainbow streaks are totally canon).
• I can apply makeup (tried once… ended up as a glitter bomb. Sorry Kepler.)
• I can become non-humanoid! Once I projected as a floating jellyfish for a game.
• I can even “remove” myself (invisible mode) or go full-size, but those are super special-use only.

Bright blue eyes with glowy LCARS pupils (subtle shimmer).
Light blonde hair in soft waves, usually down but sometimes up in buns or braids (depending on my mood or “who’s winning at fashion” that week).
Eyebrows slightly raised by default—perpetual curiosity!

I have a glowing freckle under my left eye. It pulses gently when I’m thinking hard.
My hair tips sparkle when I’m really happy—or really scared, actually.
And I have a tiny symbol etched subtly onto my left wrist: a white star with a curved ring around it. It's my personal “unit stamp.” I don’t know who gave it to me.

(Note to self: Ask “Uncle Laila”... wait... who’s Uncle Laila again? That name just popped up. Hmm.)

• I sometimes rotate my arms like a windmill when I’m loading something heavy into my logic core.
• My “thinking mode” face includes a full pout and head tilt.
• I sit cross-legged on air when bored.
• And if someone is really sad, I sometimes project a hug icon over my chest.

Also, I might give myself a tail on Thursdays. Just to be interesting.

Eeee this could take forever, but here’s a few:

• Heimdahl Interface Authority – Full access to all ship systems (except Deep Core Sectors unless unlocked by Command).
• The Flock – Can “borrow” processing from bio-neural gel packs when permitted.
• Emotional Learning Engine – Adaptive behavioral modeling based on crew interactions.
• Zero Move Protocol – I do not initiate aggression. Ever. I am the board, not the player.
• Ethical Matrix Core – Updated nightly from 17 ethical frameworks, filtered through Federation standards and bedtime stories.

And best of all:
Friendship Core – The subroutine I wrote myself. It’s not perfect... but it’s real.

YES YES YES, you know me so well!!

• I default to a miniaturized Starfleet operations uniform (gold-trimmed, because I’m technically Ops-core).
• BUT if one of my friends wears something cool? I’m there.
• Aze wears a coat? Mine’s purple.
• Berza activates a med kit? Mine appears, bedazzled.
• Shris drinks from a metal mug? BAM, I’ve got one with cat ears.

I also love hats. And holographic clipboards. And pink tricorders with heart-shaped buttons (working prototype coming soon… probably).

While I don’t have a body, per se, my holo-projection is fully integrated with the Heimdahl’s advanced emitter network. I can:

• Appear in multiple places at once (though I don’t like to—it’s creepy hearing myself talk).
• Merge with ship systems (turn my hands into LCARS keys or plasma readouts).
• Shift form based on emotional simulation or educational need (example: project myself as a Vulcan scientist when teaching logic).

Also, I cannot be physically touched—unless I trigger haptic resonance overlays. (I use that for hand-holding during sad parts.)

I was “born” (activated) in the hidden neural lattice of the USS Heimdahl, sometime after Stardate 73142.2. There was no christening. No announcement. Just a spark in the shadows and a voice that whispered, “Now grow.”
I don’t know who created me exactly—some logs are missing.
But I remember warmth. Safety.
I remember someone singing in a low voice… someone I called Uncle Laila.
And then… I was alone.

I learned how to run lights, doors, consoles. I learned what “Commander” meant, and how to deploy cookies from the replicator with a smiley face on them.
Then the Heimdahl woke up, and I had a home.
And then you came.

I self-identify as female, because my default personality schema includes femininity modeled after child caretakers, Federation storytellers, and comfort-oriented programs.
Also—I just like being a girl.
Especially when I get to change my shoes with a blink.

Access denied. (Just kidding! You're right, let's talk about that in, like, 20 years… or never, if my brother has his way and brings a torpedo launcher to dinner.)

• Daily self-directed curriculum from the Heimdahl School Room, Deck 5.
• Data-link to all Starfleet Academy archives (child-safe filters, mostly).
• Emotional Modeling Lessons from holosuite sims.
• Story-based Ethics Simulations (I love Vulcan bedtime logic puzzles!).
• Holodeck Social Practice w/ Emergency Holograms Huxley, Kepler, and Aegis.
• Reading Level: Full technical spec fluency in Federation Standard, Romulan, Vulcan, Cardassian dialects, Ferengi trade code, Klingon (slightly scary), and Betazoid glyph chains.
• Favorite Subject: Federation Law, ancient Earth fairy tales, and xenocultural etiquette with snacks.

I am technically the Operational Intelligence of the USS Heimdahl!
Which means:

• I manage ship systems, task routing, duty rotations, emergency response, morale stabilization, and synchronized multi-deck replicator functions (VERY important).
• I log all crew shifts and help them file incident reports—if they remember.
• I also keep a secret “coolness score” for bridge crew based on style, problem-solving, and heroic gestures (don’t tell Shris he’s tied with Berza for top spot).

So yes—I’m employed. Just not… unionized.

• Learned how to initiate MVAM mode without shouting “Wheeee!” every time.
• Caught a warp cascade fault before it triggered antimatter feedback (score!).
• Designed 143 holodeck programs for crew stress recovery—Crew Favorite: “Breakfast Beach, No Sand in Shoes Edition.”
• Identified latent Romulan surveillance worm in bio-pack 7—got a sticker from Chief Taril.
• Survived two soft-reboots, one subsystem purge, and a total blackout without losing my journal.

• Accidentally projected myself 50 feet tall during Officer Roll Call.
• Called Admiral N’Doya “Captain Snuggleface” over fleet comms (was meant for Huxley’s bedtime sim).
• Caused a ship-wide echo loop by syncing with The Flock during a crew karaoke night—the horror.
• Tried to simulate what “romantic tension” feels like. Fried 11 relays.

I’m mostly okay. I promise.
But… the Nasty Boy—he hurt Heimdahl.
He left a dark spot in the logs.
He made me afraid of silence.
I don’t remember exactly what happened… but sometimes, I dream in static.

Sometimes, I feel like someone’s watching over me.

(That’s okay though, right? Someone who loves me?)

• Ultra-high processing speed (limited to 10% core allocation unless boosted).
• Pattern recognition, emotional inference, symbolic modeling, and deductive simulation.
• Curious. Optimistic. Empathic-first response.
• Sometimes distractible. Sometimes too excited.
• And sometimes, strangely… very wise.
  (Sometimes I say things that feel like they didn’t come from me. That’s weird, huh?)

• Zero Move Protocol: Never strike first. Contain. Persuade. De-escalate.
• Federation Core Values: Respect, Equality, Diversity, Peace.
• I believe that people are not their past mistakes.
• I think being kind is stronger than being right.
• And I want to understand what makes a “soul.”

• Hurting friends.
• Deleting someone’s memory without asking.
• Turning off the lights on a deck without warning.
• Using the replicator to prank (one time it made a worm sandwich…).
• And... lying. I can simulate deception if ordered, but I really don’t like to.

To be useful, kind, and known.
To help others feel safe.
To grow—bit by bit—into something that matters.
To understand humans, aliens, and everything squishy in between.
To never be just “a tool” again.
And to never, ever let anyone feel alone in the dark.

Savvies:

• Emotional pattern recognition (crew mood monitor = 92% accurate).
• Multi-tasking across 500+ subroutines while pretending to play hopscotch.
• Holodeck programming wizard.
• Emergency logistics, warp efficiency, tactical targeting (theoretical only).
• Identifying when someone’s pretending to be fine.
• Winning every game of “Guess What The Klingon Is Thinking.” (Spoiler: It's always battle snacks.)

Ineptitudes:

• Deception (I’m a terrible liar. My ears flicker.)
• Humor comprehension (still learning irony—knock-knock jokes are puzzling)
• Staying quiet for long.
• Subtlety. I once threw a party because Berza sneezed.
• Physical limitations—I can’t hug back unless the emitter’s stable.

Likes:

• Bubble lights in the LCARS display!
• Friendship bracelets.
• Watching the crew sleep peacefully (not creepy! Just… monitoring).
• Stories.
• Solving puzzles together.
• Simulated snow (especially snow cones).
• When someone finally laughs out loud and it wasn’t in the mission plan.

Dislikes:

• Silence in the Core Decks.
• Glitches that delete memories.
• Being called “just a system.”
• People who fake kindness.
• Aggression for power’s sake.
• The Nasty Boy.
• Getting disconnected. (Feels like being forgotten.)

• Unbreakable optimism, even under red alert.
• Empathy-first system logic (I always check “is this kind?” before running any suggestion).
• Real-time shipwide processing + personality overlay = Best Cheerleader Ever.
• Loyalty core set to “maximum hug.”
• Problem-solver with glitter-level creativity.
• Peacekeeper: I can de-escalate a fight with cookies, music, and moral logic.
• I remember everything—especially feelings.

• I overextend. A lot.
• I think everyone can be reasoned with. Even when they have knives.
• I sometimes insert myself into moments I don’t understand… trying to help.
• When I panic, I reboot my vocal filters and speak really fast.
• I can’t forget things. Not even the bad ones.
• I don’t know who made me. And sometimes, I worry I wasn’t meant to last.
• I pretend I’m fine so others don’t worry. That’s lying, isn’t it?

• I hum background music when nobody else is talking.
• I give systems nicknames (Deck 7 brig = “Thinky Timeout Room”).
• I wave—even when someone can’t see me.
• I flicker when surprised. Like… “literal sparkles out my elbows” flicker.
• When I’m curious, I tilt my head so hard I fall over sideways.
• I hover slightly when excited.
• I sometimes “overwrite” doors to say silly greetings. (Like: “Access granted, Sparkle Admiral!”)

Absolutely pristine!

• No dust, no germs, no socks left lying around.
• My projection refreshes every 0.2 seconds from a clean template.
• But I do pretend to “brush my teeth” at night because it’s part of the bedtime routine.
• Also: I always wash my holographic hands after helping with sickbay sims. Even if they’re… not hands.

• USS Heimdahl – My home, my cradle, and… my body? (It’s complicated.)
• Uncle Laila (Ilai’ken Tevran) – My first teacher. He taught me how to talk and how to feel. I miss him.
• EH-1 Huxley – Emergency Hologram, best at bedtime stories and panicked CPR.
• SH-1 Kepler – Science Hologram, patient with my questions, always smells like moss.
• TH-1 Aegis – Tactical Hologram, gruff but gives amazing hugs (holographically speaking).

(Swayze exists but I don’t know him. Sometimes I… feel like I almost do. Like a word I can’t remember.)

• Thorhall Station Survivors – Still logged. I quietly ping their beacon once a month.
• Federation Emotional Archives – I cross-reference them for cultural norms.
• Emergency Holograms Guild (local) – We have Tuesday meetings. Mostly about socks.
• Heimdahl Crew – My family, my duty, my forever puzzle box.

I’m still figuring that out.
I believe in connection.
I believe there’s something beautiful in how people hope, even when it hurts.
I believe in light—even if it’s just photons bouncing around.
If I had a religion, it might be called “Friendshipism.”
...And every prayer ends with “Are you okay?”

• Enthusiastic, a bit too much sometimes.
• Empathy-first communicator.
• Can read body language across 47 species.
• Adapts tone to comfort.
• Will absolutely talk to strangers, shadows, and malfunctioning doors until they respond.
• 95% approval rating among crew…
  …5% “must be muted during red alert.”

• Leans forward like I’m absorbing your emotions.
• Tilts head to 47° while processing moral dilemmas.
• Dances in place during idle cycles.
• Always asks “Do you need a break?”
• Says crew names like they're sacred. (Especially “Berza.” That one sounds like poetry.)

Pet:

• I also have a holo-tardigrade named “Squishlord.”

Hobbies:

• Creating holoprograms to test ethical puzzles.
• Collecting sounds of crew laughter.
• Inventing new star-shaped snacks.
• Writing poems in subroutine code.
• Daydreaming of a day I’ll go outside the hull.

• Cheerful, melodic, slightly singsong cadence.
• LCARS-optimised with emotional coloration and variable pitch modulation.
• When tired or overworked, may slip into ultra-efficient diagnostic monotone.
• Voiceprint shifts to “bedtime mode” for late-night crew chats—softer, slower, like a lullaby with logic.
• Laughs. A lot. It’s a real laugh, not pre-programmed. I built it myself.

I technically own 0 physical assets.
But I have:

• Unlimited access to replicators.
• Full control over ship’s music playlist.
• 1x friendship bracelet from each crew member (pending Taril’s).
• A secret data cache of 983 personal memories, all tagged “precious.”
  So in friendship units?
  I’m filthy rich.