Flip Flops

[CureZen]

 

I.D.

Name: Aaron "flip flops" Underwood

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Species: Human

Blood Type:O+

 

Notable Employment Factors

Bilingual: Gutter

Knowledge of a multitude of different standard ships and station's designs.

Excelled in tests pertaining to lateral problem solving.

"Lucky": Basic reactionary risk assessment test of "Higher/Lower" resulted in a factor of 67 cards guessed correctly; an astounding 12% over population standard.

Despite having no (valid) educational certificates, they scored a 90% or above in multiple aptitude tests (Given institutions denied ever seeing attendance or did not actually exist)

 

• [Employment history]

• 18 years "student" while in Underwood Orphanage on Mars

2 years freelance maintenance engineer

2 years unaccounted for due to "bluespace" incident

1 year small cargo merchant and transport

 

Psychological Evaluation

For a young lad with such an astounding backstory, he is remarkably plain. Abandoned at birth and remaining unadopted for the entirety of his childhood clearly left him with a "devil may care" attitude that has allowed him to survive his ordeals with little to no social deficits. He still acts the brash and bold that is common in his young age, and the knowledge of what he has overcome has served no less to slow him. Despite what his education may suggest he mostly enjoys discovery, and merely sees machine work as a means to an end. I have no doubt that were system cartography still a bountiful trade, legal or not, he would scoff at the idea of applying to plasma research.

Final evaluation: Young and brash, but exceedingly mentally equipped to deal with life on a technological frontier. Has more than proven his capability in his past. High priority hire. -Dr. Roland No.

 

Bibliography

Flip flops spent his whole childhood in Underwood Orphanage and left that orphanage his own man, choosing to carry the name of his home as his surname. His nickname was given to him by his friends, as his feet grew astonishingly faster than he ever did and the budget strict home decided giving him sandals with adjustable straps was infinitely more affordable than buying a new size of shoe for the young lad every few months. To this day he still prefers them over closed toe shoes. And in truth he always felt more attachment to the namesake given to him by his friends, than by the parents who abandoned him.

 

At the tender age of eighteen he struck out with what little education he had as a freelance engineer, and swiftly learned it was much easier to lie and be hired for a job he was woefully under-qualified for, than it was to tell the truth and try and convince people to put the trust of their lives into a 18 year old with a monkey wrench. Thus Flips studied under a long cherished methodology of "Kinda winging it" as he faffed about in engines trying to figure out what was broken and how to fix it long enough for him to get paid.

This would... remarkably, provide him living wages until his big mouth finally got him into a job he was far to small for: Fixing a blue space artillery gun. No one in their right mind would hire a 20 year old faff-about patchwork engineer to fix a BSA, but a "38 year old prodigal engineer who made the chokecherry courser™ go back on it's trade route in no less than three hours with a wrench, a fire extinguisher, and an all purpose epoxy" who would do the job for half price? Well that was a no brainer!

 

Know whats also a no brainer? What happens when you forget to turn off the power to a BSA that has been having issues with the safety protocols, and then short circuiting the emitters after accidentally engaging a calibration test. Flips was declared dead two days after an intensive forensic search produced only a hand. It was inferred that the BSA had fired with no real coordinates and had sent the body, if not the pieces of the body, to a remarkably far off uncharted section of space. And thusly when Flip Flops turned up two years later on distant Sol System radio chatter spurting expletives in seven different pidgin dialects to a group of Vox Scavengers; who were desperately trying to mag lock something that could only vaguely be called a ship, there was quite a bit of confusion.

 

After being arrested, to hear him tell his story he had landed on some sort of planetary garbage heap that was just inundated with vox, none of which were too happy to see him. He swiftly passed out from his Blue space amputation and recalls waking up on an undocumented abandoned trade depot with a badly cauterized arm and a jacket. He would spend the next two years exploring dead planets and ships, using what he could scavenge to bolster his odds of survival, and finding no small share of strange artifacts and trinkets. His travels eventually took him too close to vox space and thus his epic escape into the hands of the solar coast guard.

 

He would eventually be released with his possessions and "ship" where he would spend the next year trading and shipping his way into the radar of Nanotransen, who offered him a promising career on the frontier of science, where he was given the title of "anomolist" and used as a trump card to be thrown at anything that was to promising to trash, but to dangerous to be checked by anyone important.

 

[saywat_the_15th]

 

Uhh, this should be in the "Crew records" section I believe.

introductions is for introducing yourself to the community.

Nice story anyways

 

[CureZen]

Fuck shit, you are correct, can I get a thread shift?

[HereticChurch]

I got you bro.