Neff grew up in the barrios of the 'Cheap Quarter', a ramshackle neighborhood butted up-against the downport's loading docks, at the eastern edge of sprawling New Aberdeen on Hellas (A-8898AC9D-N, Outer Rim, 0702). As a youngster, Neff did piece-work helping Marine crews load cargo. While accredited union-backed stevedores would have probably broken Neff's hands for unauthorized work had they caught him, the Marines, on the other hand, were much friendlier; paying him with a few Credits, 'Morkebla Morrabrod' cigarettes, or with bits of cast-off equipment. Once Neff's mother found out he'd been spending a lot of time with the Marines, she hit on something of a scheme, and soon Neff was selling them batches of his mother's homemade Fry Bread.
Not too surprisingly, Neff joined the ranks of the Imperial Marines. Private Ogawbayawnawquot took to the structure of Marine Life well, and exhibited quite an aptitude for his General Quarters assignment; that of gunner for the #3 port Laser-turret aboard IN Cruiser 'Blue Mountain'. Almost a decade later, Neff had risen to the rank of Captain. During the eighth year of his 12 years minimum service, Neff was seconded to Special Branch; his knowledge of the arcane and little-known language of the Ojibwa being noted as something of a desirable asset.
Meeting the stringent requirements for acceptance, Ogawbayawnawquot became an Operations Officer within a Combat Applications Group; and over the next dozen years was involved in a number of rescues, retrievals, counter-insurgency and other ops; being promoted to the rank of Operator-A along the way.
Neff’s team was involved in the much-publicized (and subsequent subject of the hit Tri-V feature and popular game) intervention at Tethis Highport, where a group of disaffected Miners were holding the customers and staff of a 'Galaxy Pizza' hostage in protest of the pizza chain's parent-Corporation, Nguyen-Baurhaus' recent purchase of the entire Tethis Asteroid Field, and the requirement that anyone outside of their own in-Corp mining concern working in the Field had to pay both a hefty registration fee, as well as a 20% cut on all finds made. When negotiations between the Starport Authorities and the Miner's leader, noted anti-Imperial separatist Nathaniel Rosen broke down, and he really started talking crazy, members of the team who'd entered the restaurant through maintenance access-ways, went into action.
When 'Trevor the Turtle' (with his plaid shell), mascot of 'Galaxy Pizza', stepped out of the apparently empty storeroom with a pair of his equally-cute 'Pizza-Eatin'-Pals', Rosen was heard to utter "What the Fu…?" (a phrase much-quoted since; usually by separatist-crank-types in reference to Imperial excesses) before a heavy DP gauss round, fired from an Operator waiting motionless a few hundred meters off the highport in zero-g for the last 17 hours in jet-black combat armor, made a neat, tiny hole through the restaurant's armorplast window and exploded Nate's head, while the inside team, still in mascot-drag, busily double-tapped any opposition.
As the air hissed out through the holed armorplast, and various iris valves went about their automated business of closing, Rosen's wife, Sarah, huddled among the customers and employees on the floor, threw the switch on the micro-detonator she carried after seeing her husband's head come apart. The charges the Miners had placed on the port's outer hull had been removed and deactivated in secret, but the heavy charges strapped to Rosen's body, and covered by his battered Vacc Suit, went off without a hitch.
The armorplast window, though badly spider-webbed by the tremendous blast, actually held; allowing Emergency crews to quickly get to and help the survivors, instead of the much-more unpleasant duty of trawling space for floaters.
Ogawbayawnawquot was frankly surprised to find himself alive and awake a few months later aboard the IN Hospital Ship 'Kahanamoku'. Superiors had apparently decided that, even dead, he was a positive asset to Special Branch; so Neff was repaired, improved, regenerated and returned to life; returning from the other side with a re-constructed torso encased in TL 14 Combat Armor-equivalent; protecting several bionic organ-analogs.
He returned to service with Special Branch a member of their 'Enhanced' unit, and served another 12 years, with a final rank of Operator-B before finally retiring from Military Service.
Former Imperial Marine Captain. Former Special Branch Operative (Enhanced). Currently working as a Ship's Gunner and Security Asset.
Homeworld Hellas, but currently knocking around the Galaxy.
UPP ACT*BB4 Age 57
AF 20 (on torso, if using hit locations)
* Several of Neff's internal organs have been replaced by bionic analogs; providing a hearty +15 END; giving a total of END 27(T). It also toughened him up with the equivalent of AF 6. This 6 AF added to his Combat Armor-equivalent’s AF 14, gives Neff a total AF of 20.
Turret Weapons-3, Tactics-3, Handgun-3, Leader-2, Recon-2, Intrusion-2, Combat Rifleman-2, Zero-G Environ-1, Jump-1, Stealth-1, Battle Dress-1, Linguistics-1, Brawling-0, Grav vehicle-0, Computer-0, Cargo Handling-0.
A tall human male, Neff is a descendent of Indigenous Peoples of Old Earth's North America. He is powerfully-built, with weathered copperish skin, and keeps his graying hair close-cropped. He is quiet and thoughtful, and usually keeps a distance from anyone new until he has gotten to know them.
Years of constant travel have pretty much ingrained Ogawbayawnawquot with a serious wanderlust, making it practically impossible for him to settle down in any one place for very long; hence, he'll usually to be found knocking around port, trying to line-up a gig as a Gunner or Security Officer in hopes of boosting out with some good people and get moving again. He'll only hire-on to a ship which either also hires-on, or allows him to bring along as family, his sharply-dressed Aslan companion, Quamm.
When not on duty, Neff remains quite the character; an insufferable prankster and, when he does speak, a bad-punster as well.
Neff is able to recognize trouble coming at a pretty fair distance, and will not sign with anyone appearing to be an ECM or someone of their ilk. Once he's signed-on, The Gods protect anyone who attempts to mess with "his" ship. Pirates get the old turret #3 treatment on approach; and should any be encountered who are still breathing inside the ship, they’ll be spaced ASAP. If there isn’t enough time to carry out this action, the pirates will be summarily executed. The same holds true of hijackers.
Neff will usually be found dressed in one of the heavy, padded, multi-pocketed and hooded, chocolate-brown ballistic body suits popular with members of the ISS. He carries an auto-snub pistol with built-in targeting-laser, loaded with homemade ammo in a shoulder-rig. In addition, he owns a chopped-down, stockless 11mm ACR with built-in targeting-laser which he usually carries in a satchel bag, with 4 magazines of ammunition, as well as a super-dense, folding trench-knife, a heavy monkey wrench, a roll of duct tape, a 6m roll of sticky-backed strip explosive, 6 magazines of 11mm ammunition for the pistol, a jumbo pack of 'Morkebla Morrabrod' cigarettes, and a large package of chocolate-covered coffee beans in assorted pockets.
Neff speaks Anglic and Ojibwa, and has learned his long-time companion Quamm's native Aslan.
With close to 40 years spent as a weapon, Neff doesn't give a second thought to casually and efficiently kill an enemy with a minimum of wasted time or action.