I was brought screaming forth into the universe on January 8th, 3286. My father was a high-ranking systems consultant that worked on many of Lave's orbital stations. Originally from the Federation, he immigrated to the Alliance for work after being blacklisted by a superior. My mother is a social activist and part-time educator who often works with different schools to promote healthy learning environments. Before escaping to the Alliance, she was an Imperial servant for one of the minor noble families on the edge of Empire space.

Given these two lucrative, yet demanding, occupations, they were prone to shifting from station to station for work. So one can imagine the rather chaotic childhood I had. Though I liked people, I didn't get to make a lot of friends that I would end up keeping, as eventually we'd be planets apart. So I turned to stories. Strangely, I often found myself drawn to the Old Earth classics. Star wars, Harry Potter, Marvel, Naruto, all these ancient stories spoke to me in ways that today's fids just couldn't manage, even though it made me the weird kid on the deck.

I think it was around the time I turned 15 that, after rewatching Star wars for the fifth or sixth time, I decided I wanted to be a Spacer. My parents were supportive, but made it clear that if that's what I wanted I would have to earn it through my own effort. So I got to work.

Years of scrimping, saving, odd jobs, and side hustles went by. Then my dad died. I had just turned 19 a few months prior when we got the letter. He was on a transport shuttle to conduct some system upgrades for a private organization, but it was attacked mid-transit by pirates. There were no survivors. The pirates were caught as expected, couldn't have been too smart if they thought attacking a ship in the middle of a system like Lave was a good idea.

Though Justice was served, it didn't take back the irreparable damage done. My dad is gone, all because some assholes decided that his life and the lives of everyone else on that ship were cheaper than the quick cred they could make with what might have been on it. I still wanted to be a Spacer, but the goal had gained a little more definition. Before I just wanted adventure, I still do, I just have to do it in between taking out the kind of people who took my dad.

It wouldn't be for another five or so years that I'd get my pilot's permit, but once I did I made a straight beeline for the center of the Bubble for training. It's been a few weeks since I completed the program, and since then I've taken into wandering from system to system taking out scum where it presents itself. But with access to the kinds info and resources that pilots get, I've learned a lot more about the Galaxy at Large; I can't say I'm all too satisfied.

So now I'm just a rookie pilot, disillusioned with the broken systems that have carved up our species. Wandering the cosmos, seeing all the wonder I can find, and lending a helping hand - or laser - to whoever needs it. All while looking for somewhere new to belong.