[ frank slips in after the meeting is underway with a big, brown dog and sits at the back of the room without announcing himself. he already volunteered on the network as trashman, but he won't mind reiterating it here... once people cool it a little. he's an anarchist okay, he doesn't want a leader any more than the next high-strung loser in space, but there are jobs that need to get done here until they find a way home. so he waits through all the bickering and loudness until things begin to calm. max seems to be relaxing as well, his heavy head pillowed on one of frank's magboots.

he thinks of what wanda said to him, that he's suited for helping people. no one's ever said that to him before. it was always his skills killing them that mattered. but now things are different, and not just because his war is over. he thinks of alex's wedding ring, and of mako and raleigh. there are people here who need to get back. if he can help them do that, even do a small part - he's obligated to, isn't he? he stands abruptly and max reluctantly sits up at his side, looking annoyed at being woken up but trying to be a Good Boy anyway. ]

I'm Frank - Frank Castiglione. I posted to the Network about - trash. [ he shrugs a little helplessly before going on. ] I'm not a nerd, I mean a genius, or an engineer or anything. I'm just a dumbfuck Marine, but... I want to help out. Even if that's just, staying outta the way.

[ he lifts his hands dismissively, exposing the still-healing burns and his slowly-mending right palm, before sitting back down with his dog. no one can ever say he didn't try. ]