They were a rough and ready, "come at me" space marine. They had seen quite a few battles and had the scars to prove it, and won them all. They'd also worked with dozens of races from the roughest deathworlders to the gentlest havenworlders, the perfect person you wanted aboard ship when exploring out on the edge. Yet, each meal break, if they had few other duties, they were unusually quiet. When they moved into their quarters, other than the tools of the trade, their weapons, their livesuits, and their clothing, there was very little outside the bare minimum they really had. Save for one case. One thing that they held close. They rarely ordered anything either other than the minimum requirements they needed for food despite best efforts to encourage them to treat themselves better. It was only when there was an accident, the special case they carried falling to the ground breaking open revealing colored pencils and beautiful drawings of many worlds and many races, did the inner soul of this otherwise gruff individual show. And it was breathtaking. -- Dreamer
Humans have a word for it, because of course they do. They call the collection lifestyle of Human Rye spartan. After a famous, historical tribe of warriors who were trained to need only the barest essentials. Human Rye kept to a routine of MRE's and lo-cost Nutrifood Mealbagz(tm) for food, only drank water, and owned the minimum mandatory clothing. Dress uniform, livesuit, casual uniform, Skins, and one regulation set of pajamas. She had no picture frames, no mementos, no tchotckes... only a relatively large case that was a vessel for an assortment of non-toxic chemical compounds, according to scans.
It was a case with a lock and, judging by the 'battle scars' on its exterior, it was a treasured item. It had been through a lot, and bore the marks. Nevertheless, Human Rye was not inclined to share any of its content with anyone else. Its purpose was a mystery to the rest of the crew.
Human Rye did make friends and pack-bond, but it was in the process of work. Everything was work, with no room to play. On their mandatory breaks, Rye would retreat to her room and, judging by the complete silence within, do absolutely nothing in there. They didn't question it, not twice. Human Rye was the kind of Human who did their job and did it well, but they weren't that big on talking.