The broad shouldered older man, no one mistakenly applied gentle to him, with an oft broken nose, and intense dark green eyes wandered past the doorway into sickbay. While he appeared a man not used to waiting, he seemed perfectly capable of doing so. He was not a handsome man, not in any sense of the word, solid, rugged, those might apply, but he was just north of homely, and about twenty minutes south of average. His eyes conveyed, implacability, conviction, and intelligence, that was at odds with his bruiser’s build and appearance. The five o’clock shadow that coated his cheeks and jaw, gave him a more disreputable appearance. If not for the collar pips and uniform it might be easy to mistake him for some enforce from an Orion Syndicate Cartel, or other Nefarious occupation. Horace just stepped to the side and waited to complete his on boarding physical.

MCPO Horace Harkness, Chief of the Boat