A former soldier from the Core Wars, now career Scrapjack captain. Direct, but not rude, Mao works the Scrapjack trade with those who will fly with him.

“I don’t like it,” Mao Tanner decided.

 

“What’s not to like? At least no one will be trying to put a hole in you this time?”

 

Mao Tanner bit the end of the rehydrated beef stick as if he had not eaten in a week. Still dressed in his ship’s coveralls and his captain’s jacket, the dark skinned man paced the room like a frustrated animal. After a few seconds of this and his beef stick, he fixed a stern scowl at the older man behind the desk.

“You said that last time,” Captain Tanner growled. He shook the remains of his beef stick at the older man behind the desk. “Just those exact words. I didn’t get one hole, I got three holes. And I lost an eye.”

 

Behind the desk, the large man leaned back with a placid look on his face. Mao knew Napoleon Foxx well. Sometimes too well. Mao had worked countless jobs brokered by Foxx over the years, both during the war and after. Foxx was a brilliant man, rumor had it a genius level intellect. Why he bothered being a scrapjack broker instead of working in some corporate think tank was beyond Mao. He once asked him and all he got back was ‘that gold had lost its luster’.

 

Napoleon Foxx gazed at Mao through heavy lidded eyes. He tilted his pale head to the left and considered Mao like a scientist would a xeno specimen.

 

“You got a replacement eye better than your natural one. You’re just irate because there’s no challenge.” Napoleon said it as if it was a foregone conclusion. “Mao, stop pacing like a confounded tiger and listen.”

 

Mao finished his beef stick and stopped in the middle of the expensive office. “Ok, fine. I’m listening.”

 

Napoleon interlaced his fingers over his broad chest. “The ship you’d be after is an older class. An Odyssey. Records are sketchy but she might have been owned by one of the corps that folded during the war. Streel-Cinar Corp. Got a big contract to make exploration ships to track down new resource systems. Trouble was, they couldn’t manage it fast enough. The packet I have has the beacon a prospector left on it and the system it in. All you have to do is get a crew and tow it back here to Calim Station for the client to take possession.”

 

Mao stared holes into Napoleon, not that it did much good. In the eight years he had known and worked with Napoleon Foxx, the man was impervious to being intimidated.

 

“Fine,” Mao said at last. “Deal. I’ll get a crew and get flying.”

Gender

male

Eyes

black/brown

Hair

black, usually in a crew "Belter" cut

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

medium brown

Height

6'

Weight

96 kg ( 211 lbs )