Quonx was but one of a litter of skittermanders whelped
in the damp corridors near the Puddles district of Absalom
Station. She has shaggy electric blue fur that is constantly
tangled with bits of wire and tiny screws from her work
as the Clutch’s engineer. The skittermander has an almost
innate understanding of computers and machines, bolstered
by the many technical manuals she reads in her spare time.
Quonx is a bit socially awkward, unless she is discussing the
latest in technological improvements with those who share
her interests. Even people who have a passing familiarity
with gadgets and gizmos might find Quonx’s descriptions of
every detail and flaw of the newest datapad model tiresome
at points.
In addition to Quonx’s vast knowledge of all things
technical, she has an interest in quantum physics. She’s read
dozens of books, treatises, and research papers about the
interplay between matter and light on a subatomic scale,
believing that a skilled enough mechanic (such as herself)
could “fix” reality on a quantum level, assuming the right
tools were ever invented. The skittermander has constructed
the first prototype of what she calls a quantum reality
spanner—a wrench-like tool that she thinks could twist
subatomic particles into certain configurations, if it worked
(which it doesn’t).
Quonx worked as a freelance mechanic in Absalom Station’s
dockyards until the fateful day she picked up a contract to
repair the Clutch after the ship passed through a meteorite
shower. As she fixed the hull, Quonx noticed it had been
exposed to an unusual form of electromagnetic radiation.
Later that day, when the salvage ship left Absalom Station,
Nakonechkin found Quonx aboard, studying other parts
of the vessel. Instead of tossing her out at the next
opportunity, the vesk offered her a permanent job when he
saw that she had optimized several of the Clutch’s systems
without asking.
