Dominic "Croc" Martin
"We're doing what?"
Physical: 5’ 9" | 150 lbs
Careers: Colonist (0 terms, FAILED), Entertainer (Scrap Artist 4 terms)
Growing up on an orbital mining station around 51 Eridani b (Bambie), Dominic Martinez heard a great deal about the Universe: There were riches, thrilling adventures, vast planetary views, and Aliens both strange and enlightening . And, though the stories were new and interesting each time, the moral of each one was the same: Never leave the orbital.
Sure, his Obins, Onts and Oncles (thats cousins, aunts, and uncles of the orbital) had some fun in their jaunts through the stars, but they also lost limbs, life savings, and friends. No Orby (person, usually orbital-family) stood to gain anything worth having out there.
So naturally when Dominic turned eighteen and was legally an adult, he got a massive crocodile stenciled on his arm (as that is the toughest animal on earth, and every Orby knows that), ‘legally’ changed his name to Croc Martin, and signed on with the first vessel refuelling at Bambie station calling for welders.
Arriving at K2-3d he enrolled in the Aerial Delivery Service academy. He came through with a passing grade, and crashed ten minutes into his first flight, describing a sense of “vertigo and nausea” to the examining EMS team.
The criminal investigation that followed uncovered that Croc’s immunizations had been cut with various ‘potentially inert’ compounds. This shifted focus from Croc to the doctor that served him, one Bertram Verling.
Croc and Verling’s former colleague, Lucas Marsh, testified against Verling. There was insufficient evidence to convict, but more than enough to prove Croc was not at fault. There was talk about him returning to work, before Marsh came to him with a warning: Verling and his associates, the RBB (short for Red Boot Boys, which Croc still thinks is a stupid name) were coming to kill him and Marsh. They split up, seeking different ships to escape K2-3d.
Were it not for one Ensign Landry, and an understanding Captain, Croc may never have left alive. At Wolf 1061 (‘Bigby’ space port) Croc got a coffin apartment, and tried to lie low. He met ‘Captain’ Acacia, and helped her refit a ship, and move some mostly legal product. For the next two years they kept in touch, Croc helping her guard and distribute whatever she brought to Bigby, sometimes sharing his kiosk where he sold scrap sculptures (and advertised his welding services). There were one or two scrapes, mixed relations with ‘friendly competition’. Then he got a coded message:
ALL WELL, WON’T BE BY. PING ME IF IT’S URGENT
so far it hasn’t been.
Shortly after that a Marquess bought one of his sculptures, and suddenly he was a novelty among the nobility. That one purchase cast a wave that, incidentally, he rode for the next eight years. This also painted a target on his face, as everyone and their brother knew that ‘Croc Crafts’ was based on Bigby. Things get fuzzy for the next decade or so. Verling made an assassination attempt with the RBB, which drove Croc off of Bigby (onto the ship of one courageous Aslan). There was also a frame job by parties unknown that ruined his reputation in Human space. He sold to Aslan, and those who saw his notoriety as a novelty, or unimportant. He got mixed up in a conspiracy, but came out of it okay.
Then NASA called, and Croc saw an opportunity to clear his name, and get back into the Art scene with a (mostly) clean slate.