Name: Yalane (Pronounced "ya-LAH-ne")
Call sign: Predator
Current Assignment: Fighterpilot, USS Lancelot
Age: 26
Species: A feline of the Catassan race
Gender: Female

Height: varies between 5'11" and 7'1"
Weight: 125 kg
Eye Color: Green
Hair: White

Physical Description: Yalane is tall, with a very strong build. Her feline nature gives her a set of unique outward characteristics. Most notably her feline ears, her face in the shape of a muzzle, and covered with a very soft, very short white fur. Her half-long hair is dark grey, with some lighter grey highlights. Her tail is long and moderately prehensile, also covered in the same soft white fur. Her hands are slightly larger than a human's, in comparison, with long and razorsharp claws. Her legs are double-jointed, and if standing perfectly straight, she would reach a height of over seven feet. In her normal stance she reaches just under six foot, though her striking physique still makes for an imposing presence.


Personal History: Yalane was born almost 26 years ago, on her home world of Catassa, home to a race of pre-warp, spacefaring felines. Her mother and father were scientists and colonists, and whisked her off on many adventures, in their interplanetary sleeper-ship. This ship however developed technical difficulties when she was about twelve, and most major systems shut down. Both her parent's cryotubes failed, killing them. Yalane's tube, however, remained operational.

After being adrift like that for god knows how long, she was picked up by the USS Freedom. She was revived from Cryo-stasis, and brought to Federation space, where she spent several years in a scientific facility, as the Federation scientists tried to learn all they could about her race. Eventually she made that place her home, having nowhere else to go anyways.

She has come to terms with her parent's deaths by now, and has moved on beyond that. She applied for Federation citizenship and after this was granted to her, she enrolled into Starfleet Academy. One day she met a pilot who told her about the new fighters being under development, and a spark ignited in her, as she realised what she wanted to be. A Fighter pilot. The best, the fastest, the most lethal there was. And she would do everything she could, to get a post on the best, the fastest and the most lethal fighter there was, the Razor Interceptor.

She had to overcome many obstacles though, to get where she wanted to go. Most people didn't know what to make of her - her fiercely competitive nature combined with her feline, almost child-like desire to play and explore has caused many, many scenes of embarassment both on her part and on the part of others.

After this, she had to move heaven and earth to even try out on a fighter simulation, because of her unique physique. Her elongated, double jointed legs, and large, clawed hands meant that the simulator needed to be re-built to fit her. But the moment it started, they saw that they'd found a natural. Her keen feline sight - though colorblind - her natural agility - her predatory instincts and her competitive nature made her quickly into one of the most lethal and feared pilots in the sim, racking up high score after high score.

Then came the day that - with the backing of the scientific facility she had grown up at - Starfleet by measure of experiment, modified a real fighter for her use - stretching the cockpit, rearranging some of the controls, and custom-designing a flightsuit and helmet to fit her unique body structure. When she piloted the training craft out into the black and engaged in her first real combat excersize, she just about blew her competition away - only her teacher managed to defeat her.

She passed flightschool with flying colors, even though she never Could defeat her teacher in a direct training duel. She always felt that she could have tried harder, should have done better, and never really forgave herself for not being The Best Of The Best, but 'merely' second best. She applied for a custom-tailored cockpit to be fitted into a high-performance Razor interceptor, as well as for a post on the USS Juno, as fighter pilot. No brighter day in her life, than when she was awarded both.

However, life turned very sour, very quickly. Although she blew away friend and foe alike with her tenacity and raw deadly skill in her Razor, she made a few very deadly and very, very powerful enemies - becoming a target for S31 as well as the Zarnac empire, through her exploits. These enemies have staged several attempts on Yalane's life - and even though she survived them all, each attempt further damaged her spirit, her soul and her body.

However, through all this, she also found some very close friends, and even a boyfriend. Her closest friend, a man she would come to see as a brother, was Lieutenant Commander Johnston, Chief Engineer of the Juno. He personally supervised various refits and performance-enhancing upgrades to her Razor, as well as personally designing her robotic replacement arm as an assassination-attempt took her right arm.

However, tragedy would follow the feline everywhere she went. When she was pregnant, another attack on her person took the lives of her four unborn children, and she mourns them still.

But the biggest blow came when - during a massive fleet-battle between the Federation and the Cardassian and Kzinti forces, the Juno was lost, with all hands. In one blow, Yalane lost all her friends, her boyfriend, her wingmen and her home. Picked up by the USS Lancelot, she slowly started to walk the path of recovery again, though she knew it was a long and difficult road to travel.

And it was only a matter of time before her enemies caught up with her again.

Personality: The queen of moodwings, vocal and loud one moment - introspective and quiet, the next. Prone to stare out a viewport, mind wandering the blackness of space. She is still very much a cat, though - complete with built-in God complex, wryly detached and wickedly viscious sense of humor, a complete lack of regard for other people, and as changing as the weather.

She is fiercely loyal though - one of her rare un-feline traits - and will fight kill and die for those whom she develops a bond with, her comrades in arms, her fellow pilots. Even during her loud and - some might say - obnoxious moments, she will always realise when she might go too far, and contain herself. She will notice when someone might need a kind word, or a shoulder, or a pat on the head, and will usually provide it, in her own unique way.

Yalane loves to play - be it out there in the deep black piloting her Razor, or during off-hours, on the holodeck. As with most felines, she can entertain herself for hours with simple games with a ball of yarn, she will purr and meow, or hiss and scratch. If she's not in the bay polishing her Razor, she is in the holodeck, hunting, and if not there, she is in her quarters, sleeping, in her custom made basket. But whatever she's doing, there will always be a hint of darkness surrounding her.

Ambitions: To be The Best of the Best.
Likes: Flying, hunting, catnaps, staying in shape.
Dislikes: Losing, dogs, Klingons
Strengths: Agile, fast, strong
Limitations: Reliance on 'creature comforts' - performance would suffer noticably without them. Needs to have a measure of independance, dislikes authority figures who rub their authority into her face. Has a temper. Mostly colorblind.
Languages: Federation Standard, Feline
Hobbies and Interests: Anything physically competitive, be it tests of strength, speed, agility or skill.
Talents and abilities: Has excellent hearing, can see in the dark better than most races. Can run much faster than most humanoids, can leap higher and further. Excels in acrobatics.
Quirks: Her temper sometimes gets the better of her. She can be quite fickle and has sudden, and unexplainable moodswings. Is not by any means a very intelligent being, and her superiority-complex has gotten her in more trouble than she cares to remember.