Ensign Sophie Bishop
Name Sophie Bishop
Position Operations Officer
Rank Ensign
Character Information
| Gender | Female | |
| Species | Human | |
| Age | 23 |
Physical Appearance
| Height | 5' 8" | |
| Weight | 135 lbs | |
| Hair Color | Dark Brown, dyed blonde | |
| Eye Color | Hazel | |
| Physical Description | Sophie stands at 5’8” with an athletic, quietly graceful build shaped by a childhood of riding and an adulthood of long hours on the deck. Dark brown hair—often dyed blonde—frames hazel eyes that brighten when she’s problem-solving. She carries herself with tidy professionalism: crisp uniform, sleeves squared, tools where they belong. The overall effect reads “orderly and approachable,” a junior officer trying hard (sometimes too hard) to meet the standard she sets for herself. |
Family
| Father | Captain Finlay Bishop (54) — CO, USS Inverness A “quiet-standards” captain: praise is rare, an arched eyebrow says more than a lecture. Loves ship models, expects checklists; Sophie chases his calm precision. |
|
| Mother | Lucy Bishop (52) — Elite tennis coach Morning-texts hydration reminders at 05:30, believes discipline is a love language. Warm hug, razor feedback; Sophie inherited her routines and her steadiness. |
|
| Brother(s) | Lieutenant Travis Bishop (29) - Security, USS Chimera Boots polished twice, jokes that “regs are written in phaser fire.” Protective to a fault; treats Sophie like a cadet off-hours, then brags about her on duty. Jacob Bishop (27) — Propulsion engineer, Daystrom Applied Tech Brain like a warp field calculator, vibe like a hammock. Deadpan funny, late-night fixer; Sophie’s pressure-release valve. |
|
| Other Family | Evelyn Bishop (82) — Retired Starfleet linguist. Wry and twinkly; trades idioms for life advice. Weekly subspace calls that end with, “Say what you mean, dear.” Michael Bishop (56) — Utopia Planitia designer. Grease under nails, big-heart uncle energy. Slips Sophie prototype schematics “for educational purposes.” Diane Carter (50) — Journalist/political commentator. Espresso and sharp takes; wrote that nepotism op-ed—family dinners got… lively. Secretly proud of Sophie’s grit. Emma Carter (21) — Xenoanthropology student, Daystrom. Curious, kind, collects cultures and questions. Sophie’s closest-age confidant and holodeck café partner. |
Personality & Traits
| General Overview | Service-first and systems-minded, Sophie is the kind of junior Ops officer who makes a starship feel smoother without drawing attention to herself. She anticipates needs, keeps tidy checklists and clean handovers, and stays steady on the loop—triaging power, people, and priorities without drama. The Moore bombing stripped some naïveté and left quiet steel; she’s learning to trust her read and to separate competence from chasing approval. Off duty, the edges soften into a warm, dry wit and small-circle sociability—cards at the DMZ over crowds, thoughtful check-ins over grand gestures. Rituals ground her: a travel tin of tea, a holodeck trail ride that mirrors Oklahoma plains, a single well-tended plant, and chargers labelled because order brings calm. She collects alien idioms for fun, leaves friends “phrase-of-the-week” notes, and cooks simple comfort food when someone’s homesick. Romance is low-drama—light flirting, clear boundaries, feelings kept tidy—while kindness runs quiet: remembered birthdays, handwritten thank-yous, and a holo of her childhood cat, Newton, on the desk. | |
| Strengths & Weaknesses | Strengths Sophie is a predictive thinker with a knack for spotting operational snags before they ripple. She’s orderly without being rigid—checklists, clean handovers, and clear comms that make everyone else’s job easier. Under pressure she stays steady and practical, triaging power and priorities with a calm, collaborative bias. She learns fast, takes feedback well, and carries quiet loyalty to ship and shipmates; when things go sideways, she becomes the reliable center who keeps workflows moving and people focused. Weaknesses Her drive tilts into perfectionism and people-pleasing, which can mean over-preparing, taking on too much, or apologizing for ordinary mistakes. In deep diagnostic dives she can narrow her field of view and miss peripheral cues; in unstructured situations she sometimes hesitates until she’s sure of the “right” approach. Delegation is a work in progress, as are boundaries—especially with senior officers she admires. After the bombing, she’s harder to rattle but still prone to post-event self-critique and late-night replays that edge toward burnout if unchecked. |
|
| Quirks | Carries a tiny tea kit (tin + collapsible infuser) and brews a cup before long shifts—part ritual, part timer for thinking. Leaves “phrase-of-the-week” notes with alien idioms on friends’ consoles; light word-nerd mischief. Unconsciously straightens misaligned panels, coasters, and frames by a few millimetres; order calms her. Taps her stylus twice before logging into a terminal—a quiet “ready” signal to herself. |
|
| Ambitions | Sophie wants her work—not her surname—to speak first. Near-term, she’s aiming to earn her gold pips the hard way: become the Ops officer you page when the board goes noisy, lead a duty section without drama, and complete advanced certifications in Damage Control and Crisis Resource Management. She’s drawn to systems integration and Strategic Ops, with a quiet goal of becoming the Moore’s point person on Prometheus-class quirks (multi-vector readiness, power routing under split-section loads, cleaner dashboards for handovers). She’d like to mentor a cadet or two once she’s steadier on her own feet, paying forward the calm guidance she’s benefited from. Long-term, she pictures Assistant Chief Ops on merit—professional, sustainable, and with boundaries that keep her steady rather than burned out. | |
| Hobbies & Interests | Sophie’s downtime is anchored by a quiet tea ritual—she collects blends, keeps tasting notes, and brews a cup before long shifts. She reads widely (operations journals, Federation history, historical fiction, a little philosophy) and trades books around the Moore. For a reset, she loads holodeck trail rides that mirror Oklahoma prairie; on social nights it’s cards at the DMZ, logic puzzles, or a cooperative holo–escape room with a tight circle of friends. She has a soft spot for animals—volunteers in habitat sims and keeps a holo of her childhood cat, Newton—and she cooks simple comfort food for homesick crewmates. A low-key language nerd, she collects alien idioms and learns conversational basics from shipmates, usually with old Earth music playing while she tidies her quarters. |
| Personal History | Youngest of three in a close-knit Oklahoma family, Sophie grew up measuring herself against two bright beacons: Travis, the stoic pathfinder into Starfleet Security, and Jacob, the effortless tinkerer who would chase propulsion problems for Daystrom. Admiration and pressure arrived as a matched set; she learned early to translate love into precision and approval into checklists. Home life ran on her mother’s steady routines and her father’s quiet standards, with grandmother Evelyn’s subspace stories—war-era linguistics and odd idioms—slipping in like bedtime folklore. Out on the prairie she found a calmer gear: long, looping trail rides that taught patience and attention, the kind of noticing that later made diagnostics feel natural. Animals were a soft spot (there’s still a holo of Newton, the family tabby, on her desk), and order was a comfort—school binders labelled, chores sequenced, projects finished cleanly. By the time she aimed at Starfleet, Operations felt less like a choice and more like a shape she’d already grown into: systems, service, and making things run right without making a fuss. Starfleet Academy (2383–2387) Operations & Systems Integration fit Sophie like muscle memory. She lived in the Ops labs overlooking the Bay, happiest with a diagnostics board lit up and a stylus between her fingers. Her favourite modules were Power Routing Under Load, Crisis Resource Management, and a capstone practicum where her team rebuilt a starship handover dashboard from scratch—Sophie’s contribution was a tidy “bottleneck early-warning” pane that quietly impressed her instructor. She wasn’t the loudest cadet, but she was the one you wanted when a sim went sideways: calm voice, clean checklists, and the knack for seeing two steps ahead without grandstanding. Academy life gave her shape beyond coursework. She ran morning loops on the Presidio trails, brewed tea in a dented dorm kettle that somehow survived four years, and volunteered at the xenobiology habitat sims because animals still felt like home. She joined a low-key study circle that met on Thursdays in a corner of the library: notes exchanged, idioms traded (her idea), and a standing rule that no one left without a clear plan for the next week’s workloads. She also found her people. T’Lara (Vulcan, systems logic prodigy) sharpened Sophie’s thinking and accepted her tea with the faintest lift of an eyebrow. Threx Vonn (Bolian, exuberant and brilliant with EPS math) taught her to laugh at a failed sim and try again. Aanya Patel (Human, Martian colony kid, flight-track) dragged them all to shuttle simulators and forced “comm brevity drills” that Sophie still uses. And Dorem Kelea (Bajoran, security-track) became the late-night confidant with a gift for blunt kindness. Together they survived disaster drills, shared playlists, and learned the quiet relief of handing a problem to someone who’d carry it with you. By graduation, Sophie had the grades—but more importantly, she had a way of working and a crew-shaped sense of self that she carried straight onto the Moore. USS Moore — Trial by Fire Posted to the Moore straight out of the Academy, Sophie slid into Ops with tidy relentlessness: clean handovers, quiet anticipation of bottlenecks, and a bias for making other people’s work easier. Early on, she traced a pattern of micro-anomalies through the comms lattice and uncovered a cloaked listening device tied into the ship’s array—an incisive diagnostic win that earned trust beyond her rank. The real shock came on Brighton Colony during First Contact Day: coordinated blasts ripped through the docks, the Romulan settlement, and the colony centre. Sophie was at the concert area when an adjacent structure blew; the blast threw her and left her injured, one of many crew caught up in the attack. The aftermath hardened her habits—redundancies got sharper, checklists cleaner, voice steadier in crisis—without dimming her underlying warmth. Amid the churn, a gentle, complicated bond formed with the ship’s Executive Officer, Commander Steven Greco—mutual respect and easy humour that never crossed the line he set for the sake of the job. The boundary stung, but she folded the lesson into her growth: keep admiration from tilting into attachment, keep the work first, and keep showing up as the officer others rely on when it matters. Since then she’s leaned into Strategic-Ops-adjacent tasks and the unglamorous glue work of a starship—making the Moore run cleaner, steadier, and more human, one handover at a time. Boundaries, Growth, and Focus A collegial rapport with the Moore’s XO, Cmdr. Steven Greco, clarified into a clean professional boundary that Sophie chose to honour—trading people-pleasing for steadier confidence. Post-Brighton, she bakes contingencies into handovers and runs crisp pre-evolution huddles that lift the whole section. She partners across Ops/Eng/Sec to harden comms workflows and surface bottlenecks early. The through-line: sustainable pace over heroics, calm center when the board goes noisy. |
|
| Service Record | Starfleet Academy - 2383 -> 2387 Strategic Operations Officer, USS Moore - 2387 - PRES |