Interview: Baron Bin Bam Brono

[Baron Bin Bam Brono]

Tired eyes lifted upwards in order to take stock of the clock, the numbers of which had no meaning for someone who only a few hours before had landed upon Planet Manhattan, the law enforcement crew already prepared to take him into custody. He was perhaps not even close to being the oddest visitor to these cells, but every single aspect of his being was...out of the ordinary due to its sheer simplicity.

The man was that of, as the Bretonians might have called, a portly nature. Dark of skin, his figure filled out the chair with an astonishing ease, while the restraints upon his thickset wrists regained his attention even as his gaze seemed to pass right through them, staring at something light-years away.

The man's clothes were that of a regular Rogue nature - for there was nothing concrete about them. Pocketed combat trousers, thoroughly searched, sat upon his plentiful frame in a manner as if they had been fitted for him by a professional, even though the frayed edges of some of the pockets showed their age and heavy use. A simple turtleneck sweater, thin in its design and long-sleeved was otherwise accompanied by a simple cut-off leather jacket with a fake sheep-wool inlay - perhaps a size too small, for it did not seem that the front buttons were ever in use. The man's heavy gut spoke of his love for food - though it might have taken a much more astute man to note that he was perhaps somehow involved in the preparation of said food. His fingernails were the most tidy thing about him. Neatly cut, filed and kept remarkably short.

The rest of him, however, provided an appearance of a man who had gone through a lot of stress over a very short amount of time. His heavy cheeks and fat chin(s) were covered in a thickset stubble, which - again, for a more astute observer, told he preferred to be clean-shaven most of the time.

His ship, damaged as it were, was also thoroughly examined. The original owner seemed to be a high profile target within the Rogues. A target this man was clearly not. His own neural implant and corresponding database entries within the Sirian NN showed very little information about anything ship related within the last ten or so years. The fact that the individual otherwise known as Barot Brono was in his mid-fourties and, until recently, affiliated with a group of individuals where men of an older age were a relative rarity, was certainly a rather remarkable one.

If not for the utter unremarkable nature of Brono himself.

He was not someone anyone even remotely connected to the life lived by pilots and space-firers would have expected to emerge from a HFX. The story he had given during the moment of his first encounter with the Marshals had just enough truth to it, backed up by the ship logs. The last departure noted by the ships onboard computer had been roughly three days prior and combat/damage logs indicated attacks on, admittedly extremely low-priority, many Rogue and Xeno ships within the California system. Small freighters, rookie ships belonging to individuals who had not even been a blip on the lawful entity's radar. And yet, just enough were destroyed for the record of these actions to be there, regardless of the actual usefulness of the man's contributions. Enough to not list him as a Kill On Sight for regular patrols, at least.

Perhaps what he said before was true - had the ship not failed during his flight to Rochester, he might have been just another mercenary sitting in Manhattan's low orbit. And yet it seemed that Brono's luck had ran out just there and then.