Trina Mannsfield

Born Trina Mannsfield, Trina is a single mother who lived on the planet Vegastar working as a burlesque dancer, model, waitress, or any other employment she could find that provided for her and her son. Street smart and hardworking, Trina has lost more jobs based on her willingness to speak her mind than many people have ever had in their lives.

Slight and waifish, Trina makes up for her lack of physical prowess by a total lack of fear, hard charging attitude and dedication to provide for her family. Working 2 jobs at a time, this work horse of a woman is always on the hunt for whatever opportunity came her way that could better her or her sons life.

When her son was just 15 years old, Trina took the first shuttle off Vegastar leaving behind most of her worldly possessions behind and following a vague job lead. There is some speculation that she was escaping a failed hustle. Though this has never been confirmed, it is clear that more than one large cash reward has been placed on her return to Vegastar by Angelo DePaulma, a reputed gangster.

Arriving on the planet Primus, Trina found work operating one of the many huge earth movers used by the mines to clear debris from the refining process. Enduring herself with her male coworkers by being both bold, and showing no fear.

Her supervisors, impressed by her hard charging attitude and intelligence promoted her rapidly from a simple machine operator to the foremen of a large team of operators. She continues to work at the mine to this day, home schooling her son and hoping for him to one day have a better life than she did.

                Machinery roared to life as the metal bucket of the loader dug into the pile of loose rock dirt and gravel. Cutting into the earth like a hot knife through butter, the loader lifted the earth up, swung it with easy to its left and deposited it into the empty bed of the massive dump truck.

                Standing well away from the controlled savagery of the machinery Trina, arms crossed, watched with a satisfied smirk on her face. Her crew was well ahead of schedule digging the anti-tank trench around the city. It wasn’t the kind of work they were used to doing, but with Trina at the helm of the job, they would get it done.

                “Looks good.” Captain Hunter Johnson commented, dropping his spent cigarette to the ground and rubbed it out with his boot.

                Trina said nothing, but nodded, she was proud of the work her crew was doing. Her satisfaction was short lived however, watching through increasingly narrowed eyes, Trina began to scowl. Reaching across her breast she clicked the radio clipped to her orange vest.

                “St. Micheal!” Trina bellowed. “What the fuck are you doing!” Her small frame hid the sudden and powerful outburst. Red hair flashed under her helmet.

                “What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, unsure as to what he was seeing.

                “I swear that kid is retarded.” Trina shook her head, not really answering Hunter. “He’s moving past an empty truck and going to one at the other end of site, fucking wasteful.” Trina waited for an answer from the operator, her cheeks flushing with frustration.

                “Yeah boss?” St. Micheal responded, he voice crackling over the radio.

                “Stop, just stop, I’m coming down there.” Trina marched quickly down the small embankment toward the now stopped loader. Other vehicles began to slow as their operators tried to catch a look at the ass chewing that was about to happen. Sensing this Trina got back on the radio.

                “Oh no, you kids get your asses back to work, we aren’t being paid to gawk, I’ll come visit the next idiot who slows down.”

                Hunter followed a few feet behind Trina, smiling to himself at the power this slight woman carried. She would have been a hell of an officer. A humorous image entered his head, the idea of her being deployed from a larger soldier backpack, like some kind of wild weapon system.

                St. Micheal exited his loader and landed with a menacing crunch as he hit the ground. Hunter had never seen a bigger man. He was at least 350lbs, at a solid half a foot taller than Hunter. The man looked like he could eat a cow for a snack.

                “You stupid bastard.” Trina had to jump to strike the man in the side of the helmet. “Closest truck, closest truck, if you’re going more than a few hundred feet, you’re wrong, you got that!?”

                “Yes ma’am.” St. Micheal answered, hanging his head. Looking down at the little red head as she jammed a finger into his face.

                “Now get back up there and do the job you know how to do. You goofy bastard. “ Trina laughed and slapped St. Micheal on the ass as he ascended the ladder back into the cab.