“Way out here they got a name, For wind and rain and fire. The rain is Tess, the fire Jo, And they call the wind Mariah.
Mariah blows the stars around, And sends the clouds a’flying. Mariah makes the mountains sound, Like folks were up there dying.”
- from a Trebarrine folksong
Midshipman Mariah Cole cannot be much prevailed upon to talk about herself. The most that has been gleaned is that she is Trebarrine, from a large but otherwise unremarkable family, and that she received her education and pilot’s training at the Luftmeister’s Guild Academy. The swiftness of her transfer has raised a few eyebrows, but as yet no gossip has reached the crew about her previous posting.
The midshipman looks to be in her early 20s, with light brown hair, a great quantity of freckles, and bright hazel eyes. Her movements are decidedly graceful, and she might be quite pretty if it weren’t for that fault so common in young fleet officers – an excess of seriousness. Her salutes are prompt and crisp, her uniform clean and pressed, her boots shined and goggles polished. On her hips hang a pair of matched, rather odd-looking pistols, and the satchel at her side gives off the muffled sound of clinking glass with each shifting of the deck under her feet.
Eagerness for promotion almost radiates from Mariah as she goes about her duties, and with no connections that might secure her a more prestigious posting, she has only her own skills to rely on. The only thing wanting is a proving ground, a mission important enough or dangerous enough that she might properly exhibit her talents.