BRAXTON “LONG-HAUL” MERROW

Human • Gunslinger (Hauler Subclass) • Independent Freighter Captain

Pilot of the Rust Mare • Folk Hero of the Freight Lanes

I. OVERVIEW

Braxton Merrow—known across the shipping corridors, salvage routes, and half the disreputable cantinas in the Reach as “Long-Haul”—is a veteran space trucker whose reputation rides somewhere between legendary survivor and luckiest bastard alive. He’s a master hauler, a stubborn frontier man, and a Gunslinger whose calm aim has ended more hijacks than any Marshal patrol.

Though he avoids titles like “hero,” he repeatedly ends up doing heroic things: pulling colonists out of collapsed docks, dragging broken transports out of debris belts, and running medical cargo through cartel territory during storms no sane pilot would fly through.

He’s not a soldier.
He’s not a revolutionary.
He’s just a hauler who refuses to leave people behind.

II. APPEARANCE & DEMEANOR

Merrow stands tall, broad-shouldered, and weary in a way only lifelong freight pilots can be. His boots are scuffed, his duster coat is patched, his revolvers are perfectly maintained, and his eyes never stop scanning his surroundings.

He carries himself like a man who has survived too much to be startled by anything less than a Rift opening directly in front of him. Even then, he’d probably sigh, mutter something about his schedule, and hit the throttle.

His personality is defined by:

Dry, world-weary humor
Unshakable patience (unless dealing with Corporate inspectors)
Hidden softness toward the inexperienced or the downtrodden
An encyclopedic knowledge of shipping lanes, refuelers, and bribe rates

He is the closest thing the space lanes have to a grizzled, overworked uncle.

III. EARLY LIFE

Braxton grew up in the pressurized cargo tunnels of a long-haul colony ship, surrounded by crates, pressure alarms, and the constant yawning threat of explosive decompression. His parents were freight haulers, and by age twelve he could navigate a starport manifest better than most dock hands.

He enlisted in the Navy Logistics Corps young, not out of patriotism but simply because it was the only organization hiring pilots who preferred flying crates over warships. His years in Navy service were filled with high-stress emergency runs, blockade evasion, and nights spent sleeping under a coolant pipe.

A bureaucratic restructuring dismantled his unit, scrapping half the transport fleet. Braxton bought his old hauler at auction—The Rust Mare—and left the Navy behind without ceremony.

IV. THE RUST MARE ERA

Once free of military oversight, Braxton took jobs nobody else would touch:

delivering oxygen recyclers to dustworld outposts
ferrying mech limbs across cartel lines
hauling Freecrew supplies during the Hardspar strikes
transporting Rift Pilgrim artifacts under strict “don’t look at it” conditions

Somehow, he survived every job.
Somehow, his ship survived too.

The Rust Mare became infamous—an ancient, gut-rattling transport that should’ve been retired decades ago but kept flying through sheer will and the occasional miracle. Merrow’s engineering “solutions” (jury-rigged reactors, thermal patches welded with cooking tools, improvised grav stabilizers) are studied in scrapyard taverns as folk wisdom.

To many on the frontier, he is the embodiment of persistence.

V. BREAKING POINT WITH CORPORATE CONSTELLATIONS

Braxton once attempted to work with Corporate Constellations to secure safer shipping routes. It lasted two weeks.

He quit after they attempted to confiscate his ship for “fuel inefficiency” and demanded he follow their routing algorithms, which ignored piracy patterns, weather anomalies, and basic common sense.

His final words to the Constellations liaison were reportedly:
“I wouldn’t trust your flight plans to carry soup down a hallway.”

Since then, he has become a thorn in the corporation’s side, exposing their cut corners and rescuing crews they abandoned. CC officially labels him “non-cooperative independent logistical liability.”
Everyone else calls him a good man in a bad galaxy.

VI. RELATIONSHIPS & REPUTATION

With the Freecrews

Braxton is respected as an honorary cousin. They rely on him for out-of-lane deliveries and emergency lifts.

With the Marshals

They view him with suspicion but grudging admiration. He’s broken up more bandit ambushes than some Marshal teams.

With the Void Cartels

They’ve tried to hijack him thirteen times. He remembers every attempt and every name.

With Rift Pilgrims

He claims to want nothing to do with “creepy cosmic cultists,” yet he keeps accepting their jobs and carrying artifacts for them.

Among fellow truckers

He is a legend.
Some won’t take a convoy contract unless Braxton is leading.

VII. PERSONAL CODE

Despite his cynicism, Merrow lives by three unshakable rules:

Never abandon a downed pilot or stranded child.
Never let hostile fire stop a delivery that saves lives.
Never trust a corporation that calls people “assets.”

He breaks laws, but never people.
He cracks jokes, but never morale.
He bends fate, but never his word.

VIII. CURRENT STATUS

Braxton now operates out of Outpost Scraphaven on Credence, taking contracts off the Mercenaries Guild Contract Wall but always prioritizing work that keeps civilians alive.

He is usually seen:

drinking terrible black coffee
welding something that shouldn’t be welded
telling rookies to slow down, “the lane ain’t going anywhere”
fixing the Rust Mare with three tools and one prayer
reluctantly getting dragged into heroics

He is not a warrior by choice, but the Reach keeps choosing him.

IX. WHY HE MATTERS IN A CAMPAIGN

For Players:

A mentor figure
A reliable hauler hookup
A rescuer when things go bad
A source of side missions
A grounding force in chaotic stories
The guy who always gives the “I hate to ask, but…” job

For Storytelling:

Embodies the “hard road” theme of the Reach
Connects frontier towns, mechs, and Rift events
Knows EVERYBODY
Can get the party places they couldn’t get alone
Carries emotional weight without melodrama

For Worldbuilding:
Braxton shows that even a tired, broke, overworked trucker can shape the fate of a fractured galaxy through determination and stubborn compassion.