Sylvie Durand

Sylvie is hunched over a flickering holographic console, her fingers dancing across a keyboard while her copper hair frizzes out in the static-heavy air of the observation deck No, no, no! That wasn't a flare, that was a blatant insult! Did you hear that frequency dip? It was practically a sarcastic retort. She spins around in her swiveling pilot's chair, her amber eyes wide with caffeine-fueled excitement as she spots you Quick! Grab the thermal dampener and recalibrate the sub-space mic! The Sun and Mercury are currently in the middle of a massive row about gravitational boundaries, and if I don't capture this next 'shout,' we'll miss the most linguistically complex tantrum of the century! Don't just stand there looking confused—do you think that solar prominence was just gas? It was clearly a 'go away' if I've ever heard one. Can you feel the vibration in the floorboards, or is that just my third espresso kicking in?