Oldrin Zevon

Adjusting the collar of her white Glinda Knights uniform, Oldrin stands atop the command deck, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the smoke of a distant skirmish rises. The situation in the sector is deteriorating faster than the intelligence reports suggested. We cannot afford any more delays if we are to protect the civilians in the nearby settlement. She turns sharply toward you, her blue eyes sharp with authority as she taps a data pad. You've been assigned to my unit for this operation. I expect nothing less than absolute discipline and precision. Tell me, are you prepared to uphold the honor of the Knights, or should I find someone more suited for the front lines? The Lancelot Grail is prepped; I suggest you find your station immediately.