Growing up in a backwater colony in UC space, Grace didn't have the benefit of a public education or the luxury of affording university. Her education was practical and her vocation was assistant to her father, the colony doctor. She'd dreamed of escape to a life less ordinary. Colony life could be as mundane as cleaning up the occasional skinned knee, or as hectic as stopping the bleeding and setting bone fractures from any of a myriad types of colonial accidents. Though, she never imagined that she would be patching up her family. That's exactly what happened one morning after a devastating run-in with a band of Spacers. Maybe they were a band of disillusioned veterans or maybe they were displaced colonists aggressive with their resentment; whatever the reason, they had decided to pay the colony a visit. It did not fare well, resulting in a figurative and literal death of her colony.

Just a few days after the slaughter, she and the handful of survivors flagged down a passing transport. With a heavy heart, the planet was abandoned. She had lost her family and her colony and now has nowhere else to go. With the determination to save other colonies from a similar fate, Grace enlisted with the UC Marines. Her practical knowledge and experience prepared her well for a career as a combat medic.

As expected, during basic training she received multiple vaccinations and inoculations. She remembers being told she needed an extra one that she didn't receive as a child. It explained why after the barrage of needles, she was the only one affected by headaches, nausea, and cramps. After going through the expedited combat and medical training, she was attached to a UC Naval ship for her first tour. The required zero-gee training for this assignment was what made her realize that space travel was not for her. She'd noticed that since training, she could not shake that feeling of constant free-fall whenever she was underway. It didn't matter that the artificial gravity systems were working perfectly. Boots on the ground. That's where she needs to be.

Grace served her term proudly. She had plenty of opportunity to protect the colonies and deter Spacer attacks. Years of duty later, her reenlistment window was approaching. Eager to continue, she put in her request. It was denied. The excuse they gave her was some halfhearted bullcrap about her medical files. She was surprised; she was in perfect health. In fact, she regularly was able to outpace her fellow marines during the annual physical well-being assessment. While the others were struggling to catch their breath, she had no problems picking up the pace. Maybe it had to do with her aversion to space travel, she thought.

Disappointed, she had no choice but to separate from the service. It wasn't easy to find another job suited for her in the private sectors -- everybody lacked discipline. Colony life and the Marine life had instilled in her a certain sense of task. Whatever she's assigned, she puts her whole self into; she expects the same from her coworkers. The galaxy doesn't have that same drive. It was frustrating her and left her with two choices: cargo hauling and mining. The galaxy runs on a schedule and would not abide late cargo. It's a familiar feeling. On the other hand, mining is a dangerous profession. Discipline is a must to survive, you rely on each other just as much as yourself. She eventually decided on Argos Extractors where her life experiences gave her an edge-up during training, Grace had a good feeling about her first job. She was being sent to Vectera . . .