Ly'Andra yelped with pure bliss and adrenaline as her hover bike whooshed toward her destination, skipping over or bobbing and weaving around obstacles that mattered little ... like other vehicles and pedestrians.  Her platinum white hair resembled the tail of a comet as it rode the wind, whipping around behind her, and her glittering aqua eyes sparked even more than usual from the adrenaline rush.  Speed was just so<em>freeing</em>!  And her freedom was something Ly'Andra valued highly.  She didn't like others thinking for her or dictating her actions.  It was probably also the reason she found herself getting into as much trouble as she had on her last mission, which also happened to be her first mission.<br/><br/>She'd made the reluctant decision to join up with Fersarlik when business seemed to be waning.  Sure she'd still get the odd assassination job or heist, but hired gun was what was most in demand and the blasted merc companies just kept taking her business!  Deciding that survival was more important than pride in the long run she signed up up with<em> the</em>company.  If she had to work with an organization it was damn well going to be the best.<br/><br/>In short order they'd assigned her to a team and subsequently a mission.  It was one suited to her particular attributes, the royal house of Finelle required some extra protection that didn't look the part, able to be disguised easily as handmaidens or servants.  And she'd done her job well, thwarting an assassination attempt and taking the attacker down with extreme prejudice and pleasure on her part.  Really it wasn't her fault that those daggers caught her eye when they were in the temple and called out to her.  They<em>begged</em>for her touch, for her to use them for what they were truly meant for.  In her eyes it was a waste and verging on cruel to keep such beautiful weapons merely for display and ceremonial purposes.  That wasn't respecting the weapon or the craftsman.  In effect it was her duty to free them, she had had no choice.  And they matched her eyes perfectly, who could question something like that?!<br/><br/>Apparently the brass could.  Of course they had no evidence that it was her, she'd never be so careless as to leave any trace behind.  Everything was purely circumstantial, she happened to be there at the same time that the heist occured.  She had a taste for expensive weaponry.  That was all they had, suspicion.  How dare they, really?!  Accusing her just because she'd happened to be a thief previously!  The fact that she actually<em> had </em>taken the battle daggers really didn't matter, they had no proof so they had no right.  And under this 'suspicion' of theirs they 'reassigned' her.  That was code for 'we can't punish you because we have no real evidence but we can sure as hell make your life miserable and get you out of our hair.'  It didn't much matter to her anyway, having to work under someone else's command would always chafe her regardless.<br/><br/>What<em>did</em>matter were those shiny glistening pairs of pure unadulterated art tucked away in each respective black boot that she wore and the mere thought made her full lips curl up into a smile.  She had what she wanted, they could send her to the ends of the galaxy for all she cared as long as she'd get paid.  Snapping her mind out of that train of thought her brilliant eyes set onto her destination and swooped into the hanger.  The rather un-sleek ship that was apparently her new 'home', as if such a thing existed, lay before her.  Speeding up she whipped into the docking area, doing a complete 360 before her bike finally howled to a rest.<br/><br/>Her smile was wide as she pushed her thick white hair out of her fair silver face and looked over at three males, part new team she was supposed to buddy up with.  Swinging her leg over the bike she hopped off gracefully and walked with the same feline air toward them.  Her long shapely legs were clad in a dark gunmetal pant which appeared to be leather, though leather usually wasn't that tight of flexible, and was tucked into her black shiny boots which came just over her knees and flanked at her upper thighs by two mismatched guns.  A pale silver flat abdomen was exposed in sharp contrast to the darker colors and then was swiftly cut off at the rib cage by a dark purple top.  The top was cut off the shoulder and had a number of slashes across the arms and chest, displaying the cleave of her round breasts.  Not standard issue to be sure but fatigues just weren't her and Ly'Andra avoided them if at all possible.  She tilted her head to the side in gentle greeting, tumbling her long locks, as she got within a few feet of the small group.