starlit raven
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Aug 5, 2009
The ship doors slid open, a hiss sounding as the air escaped from the shipâs interior. Mira took a breath, and glanced around the foreign world. Sharp sapphire eyes gazed, inspecting the landscape. She wore a standard issue suit, plain black that hugged her lithe form. The materials kept her warm when it was cold and cool when it was hot. Her long sleek black hair was tied back into a ponytail, a few strands hanging loose. Pale slender fingers brushed the hairs back, tucking them behind her ear.
Stepping out of her ship she reached for her belt, pulling from it one device from a plethora of objects that clung to her waist. It was her navigator, currently showing her direction relative to the planetâs North Pole, and displaying the single step she had traveled. Among the objects her belt held was a device to monitor radiation and atmosphere content, ready to warn her of danger, various pouches, a machete to cut through vegetation, a rock hammer, and a gun, for obvious reasons. The planets she ventured to were nowhere near safe. A final object, lovingly hand made by her was a pouch, held by a strip of leather than crossed over her shoulder and across her chest, like a mini messenger bag. In it was a field book with empty pages, and a pen. The oldest tools used since the science of geology began
That was what she was, a geologist, and why she was here. Her task was to seek out the rarest minerals of the galaxy, map their locations, and call the mining teams in if she found anything of value. She was perfect for the job, her records and collections thorough and precise. She was young, but in the dangerous conditions she exposed herself to, that made her better able to deal with unknown situations rather than weathered old men. And she was fearless. Each new planet was a new opportunity to make discoveries, and of course, profits. She pocketed a percentage of the revenue made from the minerals she found. In a few years, she could retire before her old professors had probably finished their schooling.
Stepping out of her ship she reached for her belt, pulling from it one device from a plethora of objects that clung to her waist. It was her navigator, currently showing her direction relative to the planetâs North Pole, and displaying the single step she had traveled. Among the objects her belt held was a device to monitor radiation and atmosphere content, ready to warn her of danger, various pouches, a machete to cut through vegetation, a rock hammer, and a gun, for obvious reasons. The planets she ventured to were nowhere near safe. A final object, lovingly hand made by her was a pouch, held by a strip of leather than crossed over her shoulder and across her chest, like a mini messenger bag. In it was a field book with empty pages, and a pen. The oldest tools used since the science of geology began
That was what she was, a geologist, and why she was here. Her task was to seek out the rarest minerals of the galaxy, map their locations, and call the mining teams in if she found anything of value. She was perfect for the job, her records and collections thorough and precise. She was young, but in the dangerous conditions she exposed herself to, that made her better able to deal with unknown situations rather than weathered old men. And she was fearless. Each new planet was a new opportunity to make discoveries, and of course, profits. She pocketed a percentage of the revenue made from the minerals she found. In a few years, she could retire before her old professors had probably finished their schooling.