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.
