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A stately man of forty-five, well-proportioned, a thin black beard tracing the line of his jaw and a faded scar running from his shaved scalp to the edge of his left eyelid. Captain of the Typhon — and a man carrying a grief named Sonya.
Dairll Gwenson commands the Typhon with the bearing of a man long used to being obeyed and long past needing to prove it. Forty-five, well-proportioned, a thin black beard along the jaw; a faded scar climbs from his shaved scalp to the edge of his left eyelid, breaking the symmetry of an otherwise composed face.
There is an old sadness in him. When Zara stumbles on the memory of Sonya — one of the finest people he ever knew — the captain only nods, the familiar grief surfacing without complaint. He is the still center the rest of the crew orbits, and the one who decides who the Typhon takes aboard.
Captain of the Typhon. The authority aboard — and the man who chose to take Zara in when the manifest had no place for her.
From scalp to eyelid, it breaks the symmetry of his face. He never explains it, and the crew has learned not to ask.
A name that brings the old sadness up at once. Whoever she was, she is the wound the captain carries under the command.
“It's a shame you never met Sonya.”
The unplanned passenger the captain welcomes — Dairll’s favorite ghost, as Jett calls her.
The tooling engineer who, by his own account, is the reason the old man still has his wings.
The chief mechanic who runs the Typhon’s guts and its rescues.