I was born to the Gene and Heather Fox on Ortiz Moreno City. My mother was quite the explorer in her day, and my father was known by many commanders as a bit of a MacGyver of critical ships' systems. It's one thing to have the chops to engineer the crap out of a ship, but it's another thing altogether to keep those modified systems functioning when you've beat them all to hell in the black. Gene had been hired out at Amundsen Terminal, part of the Colonia Highway, to fix some corporate fleet ships that had been suffering similar malfunctions after the fleet had received the same upgrades from Marco Qwent. Heather was on her way from a trip to Sag-A when she lost her fuel scoop somewhere between Attenborough's Watch and Amundsen. The famous Fuel Rats had no vessels nearby, so Gene mounted up his Cobra with some fuel limpets, shot out to her location and escorted her back to Amundsen. A romance started up while he was working on her ship and the rest, as they say, is history.

My name is an odd combination of a variation of my father's name and my mother's fixation on notable stellar landmarks. Growing up I much preferred how my middle name sounded with my surname, as opposed to my first name. Sounds even better with "commander" in front of it. Not that I'm much of one, mind you. I spent most of my life doing things other than my parents' chosen professions. Until now.