Lieutenant Reginald Hawthorn
Name Reginald Madison Hawthorn
Position Chief Engineer
- 15 Mission Posts
- 1 Personal Logs
24 Jul 2018 @ 2:27pm
|Birthplace||Montana, city of Land Fall.|
|Physical Description||Tall, firmly built, if a poet was about they might ponder on the nature of the oak to withstand the howling of the wind. Reggie would say his head was made for knocking on bulkheads.|
Personality & Traits
|General Overview||Easy going, a good listener and always one for a good tale. He seems the sort of man willing to help dig a hole and fill it in, just to spend the time of day. That attitude only lasts until you cross a line. Once that's been done you ain't worth spit. Loyal to his friends, and weighed down by the almost religious fanaticism that is the Montanan Honour Code: Loyalty To Kin, Guard To Your Enemies.|
|Strengths & Weaknesses||He’s a problem solver: hasn’t met a problem he’s not being able to get his head around with time and questions.
“Ain’t no problems ‘cept the ones stopping you from solvin’ the first one. Big old reactor like this, why it ain’t nothing but a ball of math. Man counting with his toes can get his head around it with time. Solve that problem, then the next, and before you know it you’re breaking the laws of physics and seein’ things that are downright fantastical.”
He’s from Montana…
“This ain’t steak. Oh, you can address me on the topic of matter just being protons and electrons and all their bonds and what not. But this here reconstituted matter from a replicator ain’t no side of Montanan prime steer. You want me to talk about the power of a divine being, you just find me an open flame and a good piece of flank steak, and I’ll write up a sermon for you and the crew.”
He also has a deathly fear of spiders and other animals with more than four legs and skitter. He has said, on occasion, that they are also proof of a divine being: and that it hates us dreadfully.
|Ambitions||To see more than his fair share of sunrises on strange alien worlds. Sure it might look odd, what with most worlds not having the Montana procession of a half dozen of the things floating in the sky. But that can't be helped.
But really, if asked, it's to be himself. On Montana, Reggie is his father's son, heir to the Hawthorn Freight & Shipping company and all it entails. An easy life, hard-won for by generations of Hawthorns breaking their backs to get them where they are today.
Not a thing there to say he existed or put his mark on the world.
Now, building a spiffy new quantum space hole or some such contrivance of science? That's how one gets into the history books in style.
(When asked if he meant to make a space hole in the future, his answer was 'Or cause one'. This has barred him from all research and project teams devoted to advanced propulsion. ((Addendum: this Montana likes to make things go faster. I know there's a joke out there about the Vulcan's letting us strap two warp cores together to make them go faster, but Reggie might do something that crazy! I attach the following flight log of the USS Husker, a Danube class runabout from the Moth Ball Fleet. It's unmanned, fortunately, and should make planetfall in the Delta Quadrant sometime in the next ten years at its rate of travel. Sincerely Chief Designer, Bueure For Advanced Ship Design, Antares Very Large Fabrication Facility))
|Hobbies & Interests||The fine and convoluted process by which malt barely can be teased and transmogrified into as fine a liquid as the Maker put in the hands of mortals. He's talking about whisky. There's always a rumour that a fleet engineering department has at least one still on every ship.
Reggie was horrified to find that this was a rumour and not fact and is trying hard to bring it back to the land of the living. So far his excuse that he's developed a fascination with the process of sterilisation when his equipment has been found has had mixed results.
A new lie will be created, and stress tested shortly.
|Languages Spoken||English. What? Universal Translator people. Besides it's all part of the joys of discovering how strange alien do-dad's work: random button press until something happens. (With a tricorder to hand making sure what you're fiddling with isn't likely to rise up and cause the aforementioned Quantum Space Hole.)|
|Personal History||Reginald Madison Hawthorn was not born on Earth.
In fact, the light from Sol would take nearly seven hundred years to reach the land of his birth. Montana was settled during the early days of warp travel, and so in current times is a well established and charter member of the United Federation. Settled by a mix of Thai and Chinese colonists, there had only been seventy Texan’s in the original colony make up riding herd on a hundred head of cattle.
The accent and mannerisms of the Lone Star State turned out to be viral, and within three generations the drawl of a Montanan doesn’t match with their appearance.
Montana is known for its business in cattle, as well as exporting minerals and precious metals from the Montana systems lucrative asteroid belts. It is also a planet steeped in tradition, from a work ethic of honest exchange to its elaborate tea ceremonies. It biggest cultural faux pax is its honour code, a piece of Montanan heritage taken as seriously as Klingon Warriors.
That and many other mannerisms make Montana’s good friends, and powerfully frightening enemies. It has also led to numerous blood feuds, skirmishes, and in the founding years of the colony nearly wiped itself out in a civil war called The Unsettlement. Vulcan philosophers suspect that the darker aspects of mankind’s past were excised from their homeworld, and deposits on Montana as a survival strategy. A Montana would say they’d just matured like good sipping whisky.
Reggie ‘Mad’ Hawthorn was born to one of the founding families, and little was expected of him save to take on his father’s legacy and run the family ranch (Minor interstellar trading house that it was). But Reggie wanted more to life than spreadsheets, the refined company (Well, refined by Montana standards) and the docile life his father had enjoyed.
He wanted the stars.
Starfleet Academy, academically speaking, was easy enough for Reggie to handle. His mind was keen, his enthusiasm for every aspect of his chosen field of study evident. But his temper, when riled, got him in more fist fights and brawls with fellow classmates than was deemed healthy. His graduated near the top 10% of his class, but with his black marks weighing him down he was not assigned the most plum of assignments.
But he was in space, which was the win had been looking for. Not bad for a farm boy from the ranches of Montana.
But it was the rustic background of still untamed Montana, and his skills as an engineer, that would see him go further still.
|Service Record||Starfleet Academy
USS Sally Ride
Antares Very Large Fabrication Facility
USS Black Hawk.
|Brother(s)||Jake, Billy and Glen.|
|Sister(s)||Alice, Anna, and Chastity.|
|Other Family||A whole mess of uncles, aunts, grandparents and what have you. If its only thing the original colonist of Montana got right the moment they settled down, was populating their brave new world.|
|Quarters||Deck 9, Room 09|07|
|Data Access||Level 6|
|Security Clearance||Beta Two|