DESCRIPTION

Dex is rather non-descript.  This was usually good for an Alliance combat engineer.  He has dark blonde hair kept short, but not buzzed.  He has the build of a man who has spent his life crawling around the compartment of a ship's engine.  While not small enough to climb into every opening, he's not so big as to get stuck in every access hatchway.

Having thrown himself fully into the life of an engineer, Dex is almost always in a pair of mechanics overalls.  Blue, tan, black.  Depends on what is cleanest when he gets up in the morning.  He does not own any of the 'niceties that more civilized folks seem to collect' but he does have a set of clothes that actually don't have grease on them.  They are his Sunday clothes.
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HISTORY/BACKGROUND

Dex grew up the son of an mechanical engineer on Boros.  His father was a lifer at the Iskellkian ship yards.  He free time was spent showing Dex how to fix the  engines at the local scrapyard, hoping to see his son follow in his footsteps some day.  Little did he know that Dex preferred life someplace less structured.

As soon as he was sixteen, Dex packed his bags and found himself standing in line at an Alliance military recruitment center.  His aptitude for engines and electronics earned him a spot as a combat engineer.  He spent the War for Unificaiton with the front line troops repairing their vehicles and aircraft.  He was taught how to shoot a rifle, imperative for when the Browncoats tried to sabotage a repair or fuel depot.

As the war ended, engineers were becoming a dime a dozen.  While several were needed to maintain a fleet of aircraft during war time, only a few would be needed to perform periodic maintenance on a fleet that wasn't suffering battle damage.  Dex learned this first hand when his division was disbanded, and he was reassigned to maintenance at a supply base.  Dex quickly realized that the lack of excitement would start to wear on his desire to continue with the chaotic life that combat duty brought.  After being assigned to a decommissioning duty stripping down ships before sending them for scrap he realized this wasn't a life he could lead.  That was where he first saw the Laughing Belle.  He petitioned for an early out, received his discharge papers and struck out for the nearest port.  There, he signed on to the first freighter that had an engine that begged for competent mechanic.