Frank Shelby
Too muscly to be lanky, too soft to be wiry, Frank appears to be just the right size to fit into all manner of tight narrow spaces where things are bound to go wrong in your average ship, and plenty tall enough to reach the rest. The lines on his face have both sad and happy angles on them, and frame dark eyes that are usually cheerful, except on the worst of days.

Most often dressed in a long-sleeved t-shirt stained with grease and a pair of cargo trousers just as stained, he rarely ambles around the ship without his boots on (never know when an emergency will strike, and bare feet are mincemeat to a recalcitrant machine). In addition he usually has his old canvas mechanic's jacket on, the one from his mining days, with a few tools tucked into loops and pockets here and there.

He wears a carved jade ring around his right middle finger, and somewhere on him--whether on his work belt, or around his wrist--he has a set of worry beads made from proper beads, as well as washers, nuts, and drilled bearings, all held together with surplus optic cable.

Frank has an almost insatiable desire to help. It's not a self-destructive drive, certainly, but he's the kind of man who will offer up an open hand far more often than a closed fist. Cheerful and friendly, generally easy-going, it's only rarely that the shadows of his past color his mood.