Bran "Cog" O'Connor

Bran O'Connor has spent over twenty years hauling rock through the asteroid belt aboard the Clucker. The old bucket should have been scrapped a decade ago, but she stubbornly drags ore between Kessler-7 Station and Port Ajax. On paper, Bran is the chief engineer; in reality, he is an electrician, welder, and orbital plumber rolled into one. Besides, he is the only soul aboard who knows from memory where the junction cable to the tertiary pump is buried. The moniker "Cog" stuck after he tore a jammed steel tooth right out of a reduction gearbox with his bare hands. That scarred little gear still dangles from a lanyard clipped beside his tool pocket.

Bran grumbles without pause: at corporate pencil-pushers, at tasteless nutrient paste, and at orbital designers who apparently never held a real wrench. Beneath the endless muttering lie a sharp mind and an ingrained habit of triple-checking every joint. He talks quietly to cooling loops, gives pet names to repair drones, and rolls a smooth blob of lead-tin solder between his calloused fingers whenever the pressure spikes.

With greenhorns, he stays guarded, watching closely to see who folds when alarms start blaring. If you survive his silent trial, out come flight tales, solid trade secrets, and a rough-around-the-edges care he will take to his grave before admitting. You will be "rookie" until your shift ends, even if you have a decade of deep-space runs behind you.