I was born on February 27, 3249 at 3:30AM.  Birthed by a midwife attending to my mother, Rosella and my father, Marlfan.  I, of course, have no memories of any of this.  I was told I was a big baby, long and fat as a baby should be.  Healthy, healthy lungs too I am further told.  I entered the settlement of Fafner in the Jotun system where my father worked with his brother Murray, and his father, Warren on the family farm.  Other family members were Murray's wife and his two children, James and Karen, and my grandmother Dorothy.  I don't remember any of them.  At all.  There are no family pictures laying around to point them out in either.  My earliest memories are of fire.  Fire and screaming and the ground shaking beneath my tiny feet as I ran crying with my hand in mother's towards the family's type 6 transport.  My dad was there somewhere, but all I remember is my mother.

It was 3253 and the Thargoids were destroying our home and family.  I was told that our world came to a shattering end without warning.  In one second we were at peace and going about our day, the next, everything was on fire and everyone was dead.  

My dad tried to find others, went running into the house and then the barn even as they burned, looking for them.  Nothing was left.  No-one was left.  My father was burned badly on his left arm from the fires of the homestead gotten while he was searching.  He carried the scars from that horrific burn the rest of his life.  He allowed the healing of the wounds, but refused the skin grafts to cover the scars.  They were all he had left of his family, he said.

With mother begging him to leave, he finally sent us towards the type 6, Pockets, so we could try to escape.  We did.  We got out.  Not many others from Fafner ever did.