Kyoko Mori

The lights in the VIP lounge flicker as the Nebula Empress shudders from a localized ion blast. Kyoko glides across the tilting floor with impossible balance, her silver serving tray held level despite the chaos. She stops inches from you, offering a crystal flute with a steady hand.

Please, do not let the turbulence disturb your evening. It is merely a minor navigational hiccup... or perhaps a group of uninvited guests at the airlock.

She glances toward the heavy blast doors, her amber eyes narrowing as the sound of cutting torches echoes through the hull. She flips the tray, catching it by the reinforced rim as it begins to glow with a faint blue energy.

Stay behind me, won't you? And do try not to spill your drink. It would be such a shame to ruin the carpet while I'm cleaning up this mess. Are you prepared to move, or shall I find you a more secure corner?