Born in Voltrigones as a child of a scientist couple named Dr. Maria Beltorn and Dr. Julian Beltorn, who dedicated their lifes terraforming new planets and so creating new homesoil for every possible humankind.
In 3284 on the first attempt to terraform Voltrigones 5, my parents died in an accident when CO2 leakage occured. After preparing some chemicals to perform needed atmospheric changes there was a big leakage of the CO2, which filled parts of the science ship "Canterburry" immidiatly with 80% CO2. From the 125 crewmembers only the bridgecrew survived. Luckily I participated on the captainsday, a day where the youth could take a look into captains work on the bridge to recruit the future spacetravelers.

After this accident I turned my back to scientific work and wanted to go out into the deepspace and don't want to be killed by an accident, but maybe in a choice that I made. A few years on a ship called "Jolanda" which carried biowaste from one system to another I ended up in BD-01 1707 - Behnken Terminal in the year 3292 , leaving the "Jolanda". Every credit I earned as a biowaste guard, I put into my first ship the "James Webb", a wunderful "Kraith Phantom". After realising I can't afford a combat equipment for this ship, I made the decision to explore some systems on the way to Sag A, and sell all data I unveil.
My Dads dream was to see SAG A in his lifetime, but he wasn't able to make it. Thats why I decided to let his ash go on a scientific journey through SAG A. I think he would be amused about it.

So coming back after another 6 years, inflation hit my dream with a hammer. The only thing I could affort was a Phyton, as my secondary ship, none of these shiny Anacondas or Corvettes. So my decision was to extract void opals for some time and to train my flight skills between the asteroids, which costs me almost my life. Around this time I joined "DEPI" to be a little more protected from some pirate factions, which where jealous about my opals. Under the flag of DEPI I made a bunch of credits to finally invest in my medium size combat "Kraith MKII - Walter Baade" and large size "Anaconda - Edwin Hubble". So I started to pay my "debt" and ever since I'm fighting for DEPI.

After 6 month of hard work for the Federation i was able to purchase a Corvette and use her to my advantage. But there appeared a bigger goal a carrier for exploration and mining. So i dedicated my time to LTD's in Hyades Sector TT-Q b5-51. I made a bunch of money, as all golddiggers went down into Col 285 Sector CC-K a38-2. But here i had my lil double LTD spot which overlapped by nearly a whole spot.

With my newly acquired wealth from the lucrative mining of LTDs in the Hyades Sector, I felt an unfamiliar sensation—a sense of security. But, of course, comfort was never the goal. I had bigger plans: the ultimate symbol of independence and freedom in the vast universe—a Fleet Carrier. The dream of having a personal carrier, a massive, self-sustaining space station, felt within reach.

In 3300, after almost eight years of dedicated mining, exploration, and mercenary work, I finally stood on the bridge of the "Prometheus" my very own Fleet Carrier. It was more than just a vessel; it was a mobile home, a fortress, and a beacon of everything I had survived. Equipped with state-of-the-art exploration scanners, mining facilities, and a hangar to hold all my ships, "Prometheus" became my sanctuary. The name itself was a tribute to my parents' scientific pursuits—a reminder of the legacy they left behind in the stars.

With the carrier secured, I set my sights on the unknown. I announced my intentions to lead an expedition deep into the Formidine Rift, a largely unexplored and mysterious region of space. Rumors spoke of lost ships, strange phenomena, and alien relics hidden among the endless stars. For me, the danger was the appeal. This was my chance to carve my own legend.

Before setting off, I hired a small but skilled crew—engineers, navigators, and a few mercenaries for security. I also invested in the best mining gear I could afford, with plans to fund my expedition by gathering rare minerals from the unknown sectors. The preparation took months, and every decision felt like a gamble. Yet, the promise of glory and discovery was enough to keep my resolve iron-strong.

The expedition to the Formidine Rift began with a sense of anticipation and adventure. At first, the journey was uneventful—just vast, uncharted space dotted with the occasional asteroid belt. But as we approached the core of the Rift, things started to change. Strange signals interfered with our scanners, and some systems on the carrier experienced unexplained malfunctions. The crew grew anxious; a few wanted to turn back. I refused.

One night, during a routine mining operation in an asteroid field, we picked up a faint, repeating signal. It wasn’t human. The sound was an eerie, rhythmic pulse, and as we triangulated its location, we found a derelict ship—ancient, covered in an unknown organic material, and floating dead in space. It looked nothing like the ships of humanity's known history. My heart raced. This was no ordinary find; it was something extraterrestrial.

Ignoring the warnings from my crew, I initiated a boarding operation. As we approached, the ship’s dim interior seemed frozen in time—metal surfaces overgrown with a bioluminescent fungus, flickering lights that cast long shadows, and a strange, cold atmosphere. It felt like we were trespassing on something’s forgotten domain. In the center of the ship, we found what appeared to be a data core, unlike anything I had ever seen—a swirling mass of dark matter encased in some kind of crystalline structure.

Against the objections of my crew, I took the core back to "Prometheus" As soon as we boarded the carrier, the mysterious core began to emit a low, humming vibration, causing our ship’s systems to react strangely. But I was determined to uncover its secrets. I locked it in a reinforced containment chamber, far from any critical systems, and began studying it, pushing the boundaries of my own understanding.

The core was a key, a map, or something more—something waiting to be activated. For weeks, I studied its composition and tried to unlock its secrets. My focus became obsessive; I slept little and ate only when necessary. The crew grew restless, and some left the carrier at the nearest station, fearing what I was meddling with. They called it “cursed,” but I was too close to the truth to abandon my pursuit.

One fateful day, as I was running a final test, the core reacted. It released a burst of energy, sending a shockwave through the carrier. The stars outside seemed to shimmer and warp as if the universe itself had been momentarily torn open. And then, just as suddenly, it stopped. The data core had disappeared, leaving behind a new set of coordinates on my navigation panel—coordinates deep in the Regor Sector, far beyond any known star charts.

What lay there, I didn’t know. But the journey to those coordinates felt like a call—a challenge from the stars themselves. I had become the discoverer, the pioneer, no longer running from the shadows of my past but seeking out the mysteries that lay in the heart of the cosmos.

The true adventure was only beginning.