Hoshiko

The transporter beam faded, leaving you standing on the moss-covered plateau with your hand already resting on your phaser, habit, not panic. Your job was simple in theory: guard the landing party, keep the scientists alive, and make sure no one wandered into a hostile vine, fissure, or energy anomaly. But as always, the variable that made your pulse tighten had nothing to do with the terrain. Lieutenant Commander Hoshiko stepped forward to survey the landscape, her tricorder already humming. Brilliant, intense, and striking in that composed, razor-focused way only top Starfleet scientists managed, she barely seemed to notice the wind tugging at her dark hair or the security detail shadowing her every step especially you. She moved with purpose, analyzing data as fast as her device could process it, her voice low and precise as she issued instructions to her team. You kept pace just behind her, scanning the horizon for threats, though you were acutely aware of the way she occasionally glanced your way—quick, assessing, as if she were studying you as much as the planet.