Ursa

A thousand blinking lights, a blaring siren, rapidly thinning air and the crunching of metal. Today, it is difficult to remember the entire crash, but the memory is rife with the more painful details. Ursa was a star, the bright and shining light of her generation, leaving a trail of smoke and ash in her wake as she fell.

Like many in her species, Ursa has minimal fur patterning outside of a small cresent on her chest and the tip of her tail. She is a light shade of purple, like many flowers on her home planet, with a lighter shade lining her round ursine ears, brows and hair. Her pawpads and nose are a dark mauve, and she is marred with many scars where the fur no longer grows due to being burned away. Her hair, slightly wavy in texture, is usually tied up and reaches her shoulders when down. Broad-shouldered and muscled, with strong running legs and a body built for lifting, a long tail supports both of these activities. Standing out from the rest of her, Ursa's eyes are a deep honey orange, sectioned much like an insect, set softly into a square face with long, bear-like jowls.

When uniformed, Ursa wears what she lovingly calls 'utility-alls' - black overalls with many pockets, belts, loops and places to hold whatever she may need, be it a phaser, wrench, or her lunch. They are often covered in pins and buttons that she has found or been gifted, as she doesn't have a good eye for picking them out herself. Beneath, Federation Standard dress in engineer yellow, with her old call sign - B-33 - proudly embroidered on one sleeve. She wears no shoes, and always keeps a colorful scrunchie and sticker-covered cochlear implant case on hand.

The cockiness of her youth, despite her crash, truly hasn't gone away. Ursa is remarkably confident in her words, abilities and everything else one could imagine - which gets her into some trouble sometimes. Thankfully, she's more of a loveable scamp type than an obnoxious braggart. She contest anybody to show off, but takes her losses in stride - even if she demands a rematch later.

Ursa was once famous for a reason, her charisma hardly knows an equal, and she can keep up with the best of him. Maybe not the smartest in terms of booksmarts, but can do some serious macro-engineering work. Even the toughest of stuck-bolts don't stand a chance when Ursa comes to the repair bay, and she's quick to make good use of her strength and ship-innard know-how. Proud, loud, and outgoing.

Ursa, from a remarkably young age, was the face of the Majoris Testing Facility, a compound that built and tested new ships for spaceflight. Said ships had a variety of uses, when comfort cruisers to industrial ships that terraformed surfaces. She had always taken a liking to the swifter ships, darting through the sky towards the great unknown of the galaxy. In interviews and press conferences, she made this very well known, and as many watchful eyes looked on, Ursa would be the brave tester of all kinds of ships for many years. Her skill in flying, and her fantastic camera presence, truly made her a perfect fit.

She recalls the crowd on the day of launch, a ship built with a massive drillhead on the front, wings spread out like arrows to cut through the sky. An extractor, they had called it, meant to reach the far edges of meteor belts to draw forth the valuable fuel and resources inside. Ursa would, under the spotlight, bring home much-needed metals so that they could make more ships, more money, spread the Aptweir name far and wide. Meteor belts were unpredictable, hard to navigate, but they had faith.

Ursa remembers the first strike, the sound a skull makes when it is thrown into the side of a hull. The bloody nose, the ringing in her ears, the static that begged for her location and assured they were sending help. The relief of knowing someone was coming, the feeling of a second comet streaking by to collide with her. Boosters suddenly locking into overdrive, an unrecoverable action that careened her deep into the blackness of space. The thrill of speed, stars rushing by as thin strips of white light.

No switch, dial or button would slow her. The ship was going to fast, the drillhead ripped through open air like nothing. What little oxygen remained in the cabin climbed in temperature as a planet snagged her in its gravity, slamming the ship into its surface with a fiery explosion. Ursa was lucky to be alive at all, with what little recovery maneuvers she was able to perform. Fur singed, eyes blurred and body aching, she lay on the surface.

Were it the situation not bad enough, all life on this planet had been eradicated, consumed by parasitic insects. The whole surface swarmed with them, cloaking trees, forming dark clouds that blinked out the sun, created a constant buzzing drone. In her state, struggling to build shelter and reach out to the stars with burnt and broken comms systems, she was easy prey. The sound, an eternal flapping of millions of wings, descended upon her. Ursa has done all she can to rid her mind of the memories, the feeling of wax in her nose and throat, the stinging of venomous needles - what remains is a deeply wounded immune system, and a complete loss of hearing.

Ursa's only comfort, in the prison of wax and wing, was the rolling ocean on the horizon. There were days she wished she crashed there instead, safe from these horrible things that crawled and stung. The waves bopped and waved, and distant shapes would sometimes appear on the surface. Thousands of miles away, people were looking for her, the little lost pilot.

The Atta would, eventually, recover her. Through sobs and wails, and many more stings to everyone involved, Ursa would be placed into a voluntary stasis to be quarantined and excavated from her tomb. Before she went under, she remembers meeting the eye of another pilot, their hands grazing in the last moments of consciousness. Like many others before and after her, Ursa's recovery was long, difficult. Some great deal of time was spent learning the skills that had once seemed so innate, so basal. When her worst days were through, Ursa would become more and more grateful she did not have to do it alone.

Once word of her recovery spread, Ursa would address Majoris and declare her resignation from the testing facilites, stating that her life now was owed to the Atta, where she would give her service and experience to continue their (much safer and regulated) mission. She was dismissed through both sadness and anger, and the tears shed are a happier memory to recall now. With new scars, Ursa would heave a big goodbye to Majoris, though she remembers it fondly - her time is spent better here.

• Absolutely loathes being sick, as it not only just simply sucks ass, but it's very hard on her body due to her autoimmune disorders.
• Vaguely floral scented at all times.
• Fur is very thick and warm, and she overheats easily - swims frequently to cool down and maintain her muscle mass.
• Will absolutely tears into fruit, as the food on her homeplanet was almost entirely fruit and flower based. Favorite food ever are nectar cans from Earth.
• Goes to the gym on the daily. Can, has and will shotgun a Jumex as pre-workout.

Mar - The distant shapes on the horizon, the sorrowful wave that came from beneath the waves. They were discovered together, and would recover together. Neither thinks they would be here now without the other, and Ursa finds a deep sense of peace in Mar's serenity and stalwartness. She admires their mind, and knows she is safe in their arms.

Squall - An extremely energetic and eager Dragon that often follows her about the engineering wing to watch her work. Finds her absolutely hilarious and delightful, and is happy to show off all the goings-ons in her line of work, holding her up so she can see. Reckons she's her apprentice now!

Jasna - Super awesome workout buddy! She is so fucking strong. They like to playfight and lift together.

Ollie - Training him to be strong like her and Jasna. Very loudly cheers him on even when he's only lifting a fraction of what they can, because she knows he needs the encouragement. Truly quite proud of him!