Kim Jung-soo

Kim Jung-soo was born in the coastal city of Hamhung. Once an industrial stronghold in what was known as North Korea, it is now transformed into a thriving regional hub. Nestled between forested hills and the Sea of Japan, modern Hamhung became known less for its past struggles and more for its role as a quiet trading port. Freighters and research vessels moved goods between the Korean Peninsula, the Pacific Rim colonies, and the Federation’s northern orbital lanes. It was a city of modest ambition but proud traditions.

Jung-soo’s childhood was shaped by discipline and duty. Her parents ran a small cargo brokerage business. They coordinated transport manifests for Federation-aligned vessels passing through Hamhung’s orbital depot. Her mother was an atmospheric flight controller. She taught Jung-soo how to read air traffic patterns before she even learned multiplication. Her father was quiet, stern, and often exhausted. He trusted her with routing codes and storage schedules at any early age.

Her older cousin, Moon Mi-yeong, first introduced her to the stars. Mi-yeong would sneak Jung-soo into orbital maintenance bays and point out freighter class silhouettes as they coasted silently above the planet’s curve. She told Jung-soo stories of warp drives, subspace physics, and of crawling through plasma conduits just to fix a coolant leak no one else could trace. Jung-soo listened with rapt attention and a yearning in her chest she couldn’t quite name.

While Mi-yeong pursued a formal engineering track, Jung-soo found her path in strength, speed, and clarity of mind. She studied martial arts in the city’s modest Starfleet-aligned training center. Hand-to-hand combat was drilled alongside tactical thinking. Her instructors noted her knack for situational awareness and her strong command of non-lethal suppression techniques. “She doesn’t overpower,” one mentor observed, “she outpositions.”

After high school, Jung-soo applied to Starfleet Academy but didn’t make the first cut. Instead of giving up, she spent a year working as a civilian security liaison for a Federation customs checkpoint near Busan. She honed her skills in boarding protocol, scanned for contraband, and dealt with hot-tempered freighter captains twice her size without normally even raising her voice. Her file grew. She aquired commendations, reports, and letters of recommendation from ranking Starfleet officials.

When she was finally accepted into the Academy, she committed herself fully to the Security track. She specialized in shipboard interdiction, boarding defense, and internal tactical support. Her instructors often remarked on her coolness under pressure and her preference for concise solutions to complex threats. She became interested in roles similar to old Earth’s naval boarding teams. or small This included fast, tactical insertions and high-stakes defense within confined shipboard environments.

By the time she graduated, her cousin Mi-yeong had already secured a posting aboard the USS Brawley. With few open assignments and no high-profile opportunities available, Jung-soo accepted a position aboard the same California-class ship. At first, it like a compromise. She knew the ship’s reputation. She also knew every crewmember mattered. On ships like the Brawley, junior officers could make a name for themselves quickly.

Now Ensign Kim Jung-soo serves as a Tactical Readiness Officer. She’s an internal security and interdiction specialist focused on small-unit response and compartment lockdown protocols. While some joke about her role being “just another hallway guard,” her calm precision and compact lethality say otherwise.

She doesn’t plan on staying in the shadows for long.