This article was a featured article in the August 2012 issue of Freelance Traveller magazine.
Mindy Loon 3AA9B6; 3 Terms, Age 30
ex-Imperial Navy Ensign
Pilot-4, Navigation-1, Ship’s Boat-1, Ship Tactics-1, Commo-1, Pistol-0
Body Pistol, MilStd Vacc Suit, Cr 10,000
Mindy is a redhead of willowly build. She is attractive, though her demeanor, accent, dress and mannerisms in an off-duty setting scream “bimbo”. She is currently unemployed, and spends her time hanging around various bars favored by flight crews, especially military pilots, but is very careful not to select one that offers what are euphemistically called “other services”. She will flirt with a male pilot who seems sure of himself, and inexpertly challenge him to an “ORduel”. When the duel is accepted (more often than not), she will take the Rampart she wears on a chain, and make a show of fumbling to get it into the cradle of the ORbox before using the challenged pilot as a plaything; it is a rare pilot who can best her. This old act of hers from the navy is now the centerpiece of her job search. Once she reels in and trashes one pilot, she will take all comers. In such a setting, an equal or even better pilot is likely present, but may take a few rounds to step up to the challenge. Once she has been bested, she will let on to the victor that she is looking for a job, and give him or her a card with her contact information on it, and beat a hasty retreat. She has gotten plenty of offers, but all so far have been boring commercial affairs.
Mindy comes from a naval family, of enlisted technicians in her father’s and grandfathers’ generations. She is the first to achieve officer rank, and perhaps felt the weight of their expectations of greatness; her brother and only sibling is a dissolute drunk who flunked out of high school, and her two minor cousins swear a loathing for any government service. Despite making honors in the Naval Officers’ Training Corps at Mora’s prestigious Spinward Technical University, and doing well in Flight School, Loon’s assignments in the Navy amounted to training, patrols, and shore duty. She became bored and even a bit burned out on paperwork; she also chafed at the assumption that as a wispy redhead with a name like hers, she was some sort of lightweight. Her last job was as an instructor in the classroom portion of Flight School, which was the last straw for her desire to continue in the navy. Mindy is looking to land a flying job with some excitement, and have some fun. She’s not a bimbo, she just plays one on the weekends. It appeals to her somewhat dry, but slightly vicious sense of humor to use the macho pilots’ egos against them.
Mindy has mixed tastes. She has an intense, and very private, interest in classical and obscure folk music. She will neither talk about this, nor even share her music with others. She has a peculiar interest in Vargr military history, though she dislikes Vargr and historians alike. In another manifestation of her perverse sense of humor, Mindy is fond of telling overused jokes in a deadpan style, as if talking to herself, cocking her head and pausing briefly after the punch line to briefly flicker a half-smile before plunging back into whatever task is before her. She is both quietly confident in her ability as a pilot, and realistic about her limitations elsewhere. She is rated as a more-than-competent navigator, but will avoid using this skill without some supervision or support. She will avoid dirtside scraps if at all possible. She carries her body pistol in a discrete rig, but only if the situation unavoidably calls for it.
If she ships out, she is all business; the copious bright orange curls are all spartanly bound up and tucked into a bun that appears bombproof. She will typically only smile on the job if someone says or does something stupid enough. She is sharp enough, but quite close about her abilities. She is an expert pilot, but does not act cocky or take unnecessary risks on the job. That’s not to say she is faint of heart; far from it. She is looking for a dangerous job, but she will approach the risks this job as a surgeon approaches cancer, knowing a professional’s job is to coolly excise every possible bit, partly because she knows lives depend on it, but partly because—and she would never admit this—she fears ‘freezing up’ if she got into a situation and things started to ‘go south’. She knows she has never been ‘in a crunch’, and has great admiration for those who have proven themselves capable of handling it, especially those who have faced it in battle.