[quote=@Raid]
For your pleasure:
[hider=the Dead Crew Member][b]Name:[/b] Dakho Choo

[b]Age:[/b] 48—[i]deceased[/i] 

[b]Appearance:[/b] [hider=Someone’s gotta look good][img]http://i1078.photobucket.com/albums/w496/williamfaulkner1930/85d267a2-2e2c-4e96-9089-6d810a57122b_zpsqkjej6cs.jpg[/img][/hider]
Dakho did his best to stay classy after the war. He liked looking good and enjoyed spending what money he earned on clothing. Nothing ridiculous, mind you, he’s no peacocking Zaetarian. However, he joked that he dressed as he did just in case the [i]Brightburn[/i]’s clientele demanded to speak to [i]someone[/i] who didn’t look like they just emerged from a dust storm on Fu Ho Kaun.

[b]Personality:[/b] Dakhon was a peaceable person. He didn’t like arguing and didn’t like people arguing around him. However, he wasn’t about to try to negotiate and solve every squabble the crew of the [i]Brightburn[/i] was in. He has more dignity than to stoop to the level of trying to convince Camden that she could use a little more sleep or that Iikka ain’t fooling him. Let alone who’s turn it is to go grocery shopping—he just walks away. However, he took great pleasure in twisting people’s words around. Embarrassment, he believed, was the most attractive expression on a person’s face. 

Through and through, Dakhon was an anthropologist. Observe, note, theorize, test. For him, the Leaning Gale was a superb place of study. He loved it here. Complete adrenaline junkie despite his tendency towards self-preservation.

[b]Biography:[/b] Dakhon fought for the Union. Okay, wait, don’t freak out. Up to that point in his life, Dakhon was able to talk himself out of everything—getting married, going to pilot school, helping his mother move across the solar system—so when everyone was suddenly jumping to go to war, he was taken aback that he was expected to do the same, too. Since when had he showed any inclination for shooting. He likes talking far too much and if you shoot someone, who was there left to talk to?

Thus, it was Dakhon’s absolute pleasure when his yammering landed him as a transmission technician on the [i]Sovereign’s Grace[/i]. He survived the war. Obviously. It took too long, in his opinion. Wasted resources, lives, and soon enough no one wanted to talk to him in the Union because of his so called blasphemy. When some Confederate stumbled on to the empty ship when the rest of the crew was off celebrating the Unions victory, Dakhon naturally assisted in the commandeering of the newly baptized [i]Brightburn[/i]. It was his absolute pleasure to finally have someone to talk to again. And listen! What a treat.

Dakhon never got to send a transmission to his Mum about everything he experienced in the Leaning Gale. Five years after the war as he laid dying from pancreatic cancer he refused to get treatment for in a hospital in some fueling station that housed too many Zaetarians to make his passing truly comfortable, that was his one regret. 

So he gave decided to do what made sense at the time:free the first slave he found mildly attractive, bequeath his entire music collection to her, and promptly die. Perfectly poetic. 

[b]Additional Notes:[/b] [list][*]Especially fond of American singer/songwriters from the 1960-1980s.
[*]Carried no weapons. He had faith in his crew members to keep him safe.[/list]
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[/quote]
I love him! Very tastefully presented.