Korbo is a Callistan engineer and the chief mechanic of the Platinum Lion Salvage & Discovery Company. The matte texture of Korbo's personality is familiar to many starfarers- he likes to dress in practical, tactical fashion; he boasts about his own readiness for action and passively sneers at people who don't take the threat of sudden and mortal danger seriously. They could jump you at any minute, do you have your exit routes memorized? Can you spot them in the room before they act? Do you know who is standing where behind you without looking? Some folks assume that as a Callistan, Korbo's tactical skittishness is a result of living on a planet with carnivorous megafauna, and maybe his bug-out readiness is in anticipation of a creature suddenly deciding to have him for a meal, since, well, what else would a seven-foot-tall Callistan be afraid of on a lunar space colony? For other folk, a different idea emerges: Korbo's a bit of a knife guy; he loves to collect knives, and carries a Venusian Volcanite-pattern obsidian steel blade in a holster on his belt at all times. He's memorized the wilderness survival and close quarters combat field manuals for both the Terran Star Navy and the Neptunian Skyguard, and has theoretical knowledge of a wide range of military firearms. You've probably met a Korbo, he's stamped out of that very same mould. Platinum Lion's got one of their own.
For what it's worth, Korbo's para-military bluster isn't entirely baseless; he has served for decades as a field engineer with the Callistan Wildlife Response and Readiness Division, a branch of the Callistan planetary state that manages dangerous megafauna when they veer too close to civilian population centers. A brave and valorous lot, the Wildlife Response Division deploy many layers of negotiation, redirection, and restraint in dissuading indigenous megafauna from eating civilians, before an encounter might escalate to tranquilization or, as a last result, lethal measures. Folks like Cliff, the Android animal wrangler, often work closely with the Wildlife Response Division to develop and maintain best practices in handling wildlife that finds interplanetary civilization inviting itself into their home, and how to manage their curiosity- and animosity- with empathy and care. Korbo's role in the Wildlife Response Division was to maintain equipment in a manner that can endure non-lethal engagement with Callisto's enormous denizens- that equipment is prone to being crushed, torn, rended, shredded, twisted and pulled apart at the seams, and while no amount of preparation is a guarantee, the field engineers of the Wildlife Response Division do a remarkable job preparing to meet these forces of nature head-on. The other half of that work is repairing and restoring equipment damaged in a wildlife encounter, as there's always damage to repair in order to restore readiness for the next deployment. There are few engineering corps in the Sol system whose challenges are as rigorous, as there's few engineering corps who inhabit worlds with predators as big as Callisto's. Some say they're the best of the best; that reputation has found its way into Tybalt's research notes. If his crew were to have an engineer, a bonafide Callistan dent-pounder would be second to none.
While Korbo's duties are largely limited to the repair and maintenance of the Wildlife Response Division's motorpool, he's always wanted to have a more hands-on role in subduing the people-eating monsters that threaten Callistan cities. The actual deployment of mitigation tactics are outside the scope of Korbo's training and expertise, and in spite of his requests- and his assurance that his self-instruction is of equal merit to an official program- engineering is as close as he's been allowed to get to sitting behind the big guns. So when Tybalt arrived on Callisto in his big fancy ship looking to poach one of the planet's famed monster-wranglers, Korbo was primed and ready to hang up his toolbelt and put on a Platinum Lion uniform. He just had one question: he would be allowed to wear his favorite Venusian knife as part of his work attire, yes? They wouldn't allow him to do that in the Wildlife Response Division, it was outside regulation. Duo Jie shrugged; Tybalt gave him his personal assurance. Whatever tools he needs to get the job done, no matter how exotic or rare, Tybalt would ensure they are paid for and provided. Korbo looked encouraged, and found the courage to ask one more question: he'd get to use the armory's guns in an emergency, yes??? Tybalt looked to Duo Jie, who was already shaking his head very slowly. Tybalt turned his attention back to Korbo, a hand extended. It's a deal!
Today, Korbo is in the Platinum Lion hangar removing the remnant stubs of the wings from the Mammoth's hull. They'd been sheared off at the middle, their nacelle ends stacked in a heap in the hangar's back lot. Those blunt tow hooks ripped ugly, jagged tears through the ship's wings, it wasn't a clean cut like some of Callisto's megafauna might have inflicted- mending the pieces back together wasn't an option, they'd need to be replaced. The Mammoth was a specialized scientific ship, and tragically, it was of Mercurian make, meaning Tybalt would have to order new wings to be mounted cleanly to the hull of the Mammoth, and they'd need to be special-delivered all the way from Mercury. Even along the trade currents, a shipment from Mercury to Saturn is going to take a lot of time, even paying extra to expedite the process. What's worse, though, is that new wings weren't the only problem the Mammoth had; Korbo assessed that the the mounting plates on the hull of the ship needed to be re-welded, since the drag of those tow hooks degraded the structural integrity of the ship's proverbial shoulder joints as its wings were being torn off at the elbow. Additionally, the ship's weapon systems needed to be dismantled and rebuilt to ensure there were no lingering problems following the plague of mechanical failures they exhibited during their encounter with the Jackrabbit II. There was a live solid munition jammed in the chamber of one of the multicasters, right up against the delicate laser pulse emitter; according to the Star Navy service manual the weapon's entire housing needed to be disassembled in a very precise and specific way in order to safely dislodge the live round. The seized clamps which prevented the twin-photon turret from operating put a bad bend in its rotator plate- this could be hammered back into shape, but it'd need the turret to be disconnected from the ship's power grid and hoisted out of the hull with a taller crane than the one currently provided in the Platinum Lion hangar. The missile tube hatches appeared to be working correctly, but it was recommended to take them apart and re-assemble them anyways, just to be sure. It was a lot of work, but Korbo assured his captain that he was able to complete it in the ample time the crew would spend waiting for the delivery of their ship's new wings. The cost of repairs were not insubstantial, in time or credits. Tybalt had a lot to reflect on.
Late at night, after hours, when the hangar was quiet, an argument filled the Platinum Lion office- two very large men found themselves at loggerheads. Duo Jie had not agreed to allowing Korbo to help in the direct engagement the crew had planned for Red Raven and Timberwolf, that was the security officer's responsibility. Korbo had been assured that he'd be allowed to participate in more of the ship's duties than simple maintenance as a part of his contract; if spinning wrenches was all he'd be doing he could have just as well stayed home on Callisto. Duo Jie would calmly throw one of Korbo's tools; the seven-foot Callistan would push a stack of dirty magazines off the top of a filing cabinet. Duo Jie knit his brow and frowned, asserting that the answer was no and leaving it at that. Not satisfied with his answer, Korbo would go over the First Mate's head and petition the Captain directly for inclusion in the retaliation campaign. He'd been putting so much work into repairing the Mammoth, Tybalt didn't see why not. Later, in private, Duo Jie would request a moment of the Captain's time to discuss this decision.
As the Platinum Lion crew were busy reassembling their ship, Red Raven and Timberwolf took the opportunity to salvage a few shipwrecks they had in their private records without the Mammoth breathing down their necks. Usually they'd handle these jobs individually, and fight over rights to the wrecks they both knew about, but today, this time, they decided to cooperate. They chose to work together on ships they both knew the other was already aware of, keeping their best secrets to themselves- Amy and Bryce agreed that this rich, overloaded new salvage outfit was a problem for each crew individually, but if they worked together they'd enjoy the protection of a numerical advantage. It wasn't an effortless collaboration; Alan still insisted on offering his critique of Haley's star charts as the current-gen Delta model, Clover helped herself to a peek at some of Kollori's unlisted network nodes aboard the Ermine, and Emily could not help but ask Slug if Amy still said anything about her, you know, in private? Slug, having no use for a lie, would share perhaps more than they should in their joint security operations aboard a shipwreck site. Emily, her cyberoptic lenses clicking and scanning the dark for movement, would just nod and listen...
Working together, Red Raven and Timberwolf were able to tag, secure, catalog, salvage and break down wrecks faster than they could on their own. Scarlet and Viola had worked out a private mutual fund to split the profits from these wrecks, sorting the take and selling to each of their personal networks of fences and private buyers according to who knew the better guy to liquidate a given piece of salvage. As the crews knocked out a few more jobs, they found their icy relationship began to thaw- even Bell had warmed up to having Clayton in his kitchen, paying attention to the Terran's dishes and the way he prepared them. It was nice to have someone who spoke fluent Neptunian and knew his way around a galley; Bell opened up a little more when he realized he could ask Clayton questions about his dishes without having to struggle through this kludgey Terran language barrier. The crews worked hard and they ate well, breaking bread and clinking glasses at their shared feasts; together they earned back much the income they lost from Platinum Lion's interference, and their finances began to look a lot less dire. In this window of time they learned to share a wreck and watch each other's backs, knowing that big blue behemoth could show up again at any moment. For now, though, it was the eye of the storm. The salvage rivals enjoyed a friendly rapport, making the most of the clear skies before the torrential rain bore down on them again. This time, when the thunder claps and the waves crash, they'd be ready for it.