Born to a single father whom worked the dockyards of space, Blythe learnt to fend mostly for himself. Using his quick wit, sharp tongue and roguish charm he managed to get his way in or out of most hazardous situations.

With a love for all things mechanical, fast and pretty, he set out to make his name in the stars; a better life for himself than his father could muster on his own. His Minmitar heritage is mostly lost to time, and what his Father did speak of, was mostly whispered or de-railed.

Although full of larrikinism and childish slang, Blythe is a handy, enthusiastic member of any team; if controlled and moulded by the right leader.

Lost in a galaxy of less than forgiving cretins, this "live wire' dreams of nothing more than fast ships, and faster women.

"I wish I had a hole in my throat, So I could spit on you whilst smiling"