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[color=9e0039][h2] Miora Sphere, Pilot and Ballbuster At Yer Service[/h2][/color]
Fastest pilot to graduate as a child of the Saturn Moon Mining Ships. That was what she was known as. No mining kid had ever beat the test, much less out flown every single applicant in her division. But flying fast was as easy as breathing for Miora. It was her one and only talent. And she'd fight anyone who tried to take something as precious as that away from her and treat her as some outsider who was beneath them.

Just ask anyone who had crewed up on a ship with her as pilot. She couldn't socialize properly with others if her life depended on it and she certainly couldn't back down from anyone who challenged her skill. It was all she had, her skills. With a family of miners, the bar had been set low since she was born, but it didn't make it any easier to claw her way up the ladder to piloting her own ships. Well, other people's ships. The direction-velocity command desk area was the one and only thing that she was able to stake claim of. And she had a right hook that almost alway landed in the center of her target to prove it. Bloody noses were not uncommon when she was at the helm.

Miora was on the shorter end of the spectrum, curvaceous and clad in tight but breathable pleather body suit, a chrome belt hanging tilted on her hips. When she walked, one foot in front of the other, she seemed to saunter like a shark swimming through the water. And in that rosy red mouth of hers a fat synthesized cigar balanced on her smirk, letting out threads of scentless smoke to follow behind her like enchanted ghosts. A hand on her hip, her Earthen fifties style was out of place and more than a bit odd. But that was how she liked it. Let everyone watch her, move to one side and stare. She'd show each and everyone one of them what a child of Saturn's mining ships could do.

Taking the cigar from her mouth between two slender fingers crowned with perfectly manicured nails, she grinned her wild haughty grin. [color=9e0039]"What ye pickerin' at, ladies? Wake yer a**es up, this ain't no pony show,"[/color] her throaty voice held every drop of dry amusement that her being was made of, dark gaze jumping between the three people already there waiting for the assignment to be debriefed. So far a girl and two soldiers. Well, this ought to be interesting, to say the very least. And if they had her as their pilot, they needed to get where ever they were going and [b]fast[/b]. Twirling her cigar between her fingers, she stood before the trio gathered like a leisurely cat staring at mice.

[color=9e0039]"Well, I doubt ye ken where yer headin', considerin' all three of ye put together make a brain and a half,"[/color] she chuckled looking over each other them, but her eyes taking on almost a glare as she looked at the solider types, [color=9e0039]"But ye can trust I'm the best te get ye there at breakneck speed."[/color] 

She gave them a wink then, laughing heartily and fit her fat cigar between her teeth. [color=9e0039]"Yer no' gonna' like me, so listen well,"[/color] she tipped her head back, [color=9e0039]"I'm yer pilot, Miora. Donna go callin' me nothin' else, less ye want me to rearrange yer face, a'ight? Now, what are ye stations, ladies?"[/color][/center]