This ship... this ship was her baby. Not only had she helped with the schematics, help build it, she maintenance it before it was even launched! Ever! This ship was built for what it was, transport. It was bulky, with large spaces with straps, and equipment for strapping what they need. The ship was large enough for a crew of twenty, maybe a few more would still fit comfortably. Though generally, the crew was made up of the Captain, no matter what role they were, three pilots, mechanical crew of five, medical crew of five, scientists, IT's and other misc jobs.
She caressed her gloved fingers over the engine she was checking.. again, for the sixth time. She gleamed with pride looking at it's perfect cylinders, the smooth movements of when she tested them. She checked things off on her automated clip board. Making adjustments manually, she hummed to herself. Nothing out of the norm. She did a full check of the engine once more, crossing over to check other parts of the transmission, the steering, etc. It was like an art to her.
Climbing aboard, the woman put her hat back on. She was a very attractive woman. Though she wore loose green clothes, like most military members, an orange band around her forearm with a symbol, showing she was a mechanic. The clothing was loose fitting, hanging off of what would be curvy hips, a fair bust and the sort. She wore grease-stained, fingerless gloves. Deep pockets were in her baggy camo-like pants, were she carried clothes for cleaning up grease spills and such. On her backside was a leather case, with a shiny, seems to never been used before firearm hung off her leather belt. Around the sides of her hips were... well... tools. Drills bits, wrenches, screw drivers, bolts, etc. Anything you could think of... was on her waist.
It was early morning according to their atmosphere on Mother ship A-12E, their 'home'. If you looked out of the 'windows' where there was fake, modified movies, early morning with trees and sun-up and such. With her conductor like hat secured on her head, her hair tucked up inside of it to be kept from her eyes and slipping the loose sweater like shirt over her torso she left a sigh leave her.
Emily Rolet was.. quite gorgeous. Even dressed like a man. Her vibrant baby blues were flattered with long black lashes, obviously painted as such, a small button nose and full pink lips, usually twisted into a tiny smile. She had high cheek bones and tiny round ears. She almost looked like a child. Very short, maybe five feet tall, she was ideal for the position, able to crawl into the tiny spaces and fix things as required. She was a generally a nice woman, very happy-go-lucky, clever, extremely sarcastic and able to make snark like remarks. Though lovable all the same. She was always called by her last name, since basic training. Her first was deemed to girlie for a mechanic. Mostly when she beat all of her buddies in the track.
Being the only female aboard this particular ship, only female in her particular job, she had lots of respect, but she also dressed like the boys. Tattooed like the boys, everything...
Tilting to her head, she heard the voice of her captain. She stood at attention an placed her hand in the salute pose. "Aye sir, I'm right here." She called back, from around the corner. Emily cracked a smile at him.. he was the only one who hadn't realized it yet.. not that she cared. "Something the matter, Captain?"
// So short compared to yours. x.x;; Hopefully it's still good. //