Reaver Company Inactive Associates Database

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File No.: 8008246-L-001
File name: Sepia Reaver Dossier
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Classification: RI-S - EYES ONLY
Attached picture:

Name: Johnny B.
Known aliases: The Merciless Watermelon Stabber, Sepia
Height: 1.7906534098723 meters
Hair color: Brown
Eye color: Brown
Age: 45 (minus whatever's needed to impress the nearest drunken female)
Birthdate: 774 A.S. (plus whatever it takes to impress the nearest drunken female)
Birthplace: Downtown Manhattan, Planet Manhattan, New York, Liberty
Parents: Dick and Jane B., living peacefully above their megabakery in downtown Manhattan
Relatives: None living, besides parents.
Marital status: Against his parent's vehement pestering, single
Children: None

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'€¢ Family history:

> The Short and Long of it. Wait. Just the short.
In short, there is next to nothing all that remarkable about this man. Born to perfectly decent, acceptably loving parents in the middle of one of Manhattan's quieter districts, he performed decently throughout his years of schooling and, after two years of university which he considered "bland and salty", he dropped out and amassed a considerable amount of funds by picking up spare credits out of the begging hats of crippled hobos.

During this time in his life, Johnny had many near-run-ins with the law, mostly due to complaining hobos and that one baby that he took a lollipop from and then threw into a river. However, in all of these cases (including, somehow, the baby incident), his lawyer was able to convince judge after judge that what he had done did not technically count as illegal acts. Even more miraculously, the lawyer never even asked for proper payment - simply lengths of corded rope and disposable socks.

After months of what did not technically count as thievery, he finally had enough to buy a used CTE-750. This was quickly destroyed by pirates. However, through some ridiculous, tired, and cliche'd circumstance, he somehow managed to survive the explosion and landed his escape pod directly in front of the insurance office where he had taken out a 5 million credit insurance policy on the crappy little starflea. Using this money, he bought a somewhat-properly equipped Kingfisher-class fighter, and began doing proper merc work in and around Libertonian space. Over time, he branched out, and after about ten years and 15 ships (and 15 insurance policies), he managed to land a job working for the Reavers.

Incidentally, he is also heir to one of the largest bakery businesses currently operating in Sirius. With a gross profit of over 20 billion credits per year, he stands to make an absolute buttload of cash. That is, he would be in such a position, if it weren't for the fact taht he refused a position in the company years ago. You see, this is why his parents barely talk to him anymore, the ungrateful little fully-grown brat.

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'€¢ Further notes:

>Hates the color AuroMetalSaurus
<Heavy sleeper.
>Carries a flask the size of a basketball. Only flatter.
<At first thought that the control sticks in fighters were "special toys". Avoided using anything but the autopilot for 3 years due to this false belief.
>Regularly barges into random people's houses and sleeps on their floors. No explanation has been given. Ever.
<Steam engine enthusiast.

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'€¢ Notable possessions:

>A Sabre-class fighter
<A hat he stole from some hobo

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'€¢ Crime Record:

-none-

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> Current employer:
< Reaver Mercenary Company
> Current location:
< Can I crash at your place?
> Risk factor:
< Moderate at best. Doesn't go around shooting small children, and therefore hasn't gained the ire of the majority of the public.
> Diplomatic usefulness:
< Ha ha, what's a diplomacy?
> Knowledge usefulness:
< Somewhat there. It's not like he doesn't know his way out of a maze that doesn't involve fire. Or something.
> Practical usefulness:
< Average. He can kill things and hold a drink or 20.
> Overall rating:
< 5/10

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