There was a time when Sidian felt that he had it all figured out. He was only 19, but he had been a tender pilot, also known as a provisioner, for the better part of five years ever since he ran away from home. Provisioners, couriers, and emissaries are the only pilots trained to fly through subspace. It is the only flying done with the assist of an artificial co-pilot, as flying through the quantum realm can be quite tricky. Any mistake could cause you to blink from existence and no one knows what happens to these victims.
His father had been a highly skilled emissary and was escorting a high profile ambassador at the Battle of Goran Resh where both were killed by the cryon explosion. There had been a cease fire at the time to allow for talks, and many to this day still believe that it was an assassination with Sidian’s father being nothing more than collateral damage. There has been no evidence to suggest it.
For Sidian, it came at a tumultuous time. He was barely 13 and was exhibiting your typical rebellious behaviors of which his mother couldn’t handle on her own. They had had only a few months to deal with him leaving yet again, and although he won’t admit it without severe inebriation, it heavily traumatized him. He no longer had someone to look up to — when he was there — and his psyche was not ready for a leadership role, at least not in their household.
His mother had no skills with which to provide for them, and so their ability to obtain vital resources began to dwindle quickly after going through the money from the life insurance policy. It forced Sidian to try to find a way to make income, but at such an early age, he too did not have the necessary skills to do so. Fortunately for him, his father had a lot of friends among the emissary community and just before Sidian began to fall into the wrong crowd, a former co-pilot of his father’s came for a visit unaware that his friend had passed.
He felt for Sidian as he had lost his father around the same age. He had had someone take him under their wing and now he had the opportunity to pay it forward. It was obvious from early on that Sidian had talents that his father most likely passed down. It was his knack for flying through subspace and his tenacity for wanting to learn the ropes of his lineage that landed him the job as a provisioner. As tenacious as he can be, however, he does not have the heart of a warrior.
Fifteen years later, the post-Millennial War economy caused the need for provisioners to wane quite a bit, but in reciprocation, the need for couriers spiked. The job is essentially the same, but the risks involved with hauling materials other than your standard supplies can vary greatly. It’s also more common for a courier to be an independent contractor, which has given Sidian a freedom that he has never known. A freedom that has allowed him to develop quite a mixed reputation among the many worlds of Starbrood.
When Sidian awoke, he found it hard to breathe, and as he sucked in, the cold air caused him to cough. Each cough forced him to gasp for what little air was left in the cabin of his small starvessel. At the same time he was realizing that that foghorn sound must have been some kind of electromagnetic pulse. It was very dim inside with the only light being provided by the reflection of the sun in the rings of Kor’s Eye.
If he had had time to appreciate it, he would’ve noticed the shimmering quality of the light, vaguely similar to that of a disco ball. Instead, Sidian was forced to think about how to get some oxygen and fast. He managed to calm the tickle in his throat by breathing more slowly through his nose, but he could really feel the strain on his blood vessels as they all fought for oxygen in tandem. His vision would dim occasionally, but he forced himself out of the chair and began trying to walk to the cargo bay to get to a starsuit.
He was grateful that he had Zerk magnetize his deck. He has had a lot of problems with his artificial gravity generator, and it was cheaper to magnetize his deck than get it fixed or get a new one for that matter. Still, the lack of gravity only added to his current misery. If it weren’t for the metals in his clothing, he would have no bearings.
As though his knees were jelly, he crumpled to the ground with a grunt. The pain seemed ten fold as he gritted his teeth and began to crawl. The metal grated floor felt like it was bruising both his hands and knees. As he neared the hatch, he grabbed a handle of a cabinet along the wall, only to have it open causing him to spill to the floor along with some of the contents of the cabinet. He was not the best at keeping things stored properly.
He was really having to breathe hard and gasp for air through his mouth when his dimming vision caught sight of a can of air. A can of air from Nirvana Beach on the sylvan world of El’Uaa (ell-way-uh). It was going to be his first present for his mother to make her think that he had gotten nothing else, when in reality, he had procured a courier pass for her that would allow her to leave the Greddeck System.
Sidian felt like the blood vessels in his eyes were about to burst, and his energy was nowhere to be found. It was all he could do to reach out to it, but of course, it was out of reach. It felt like every gasp would be his last one as his vision had become very dim, and if it weren’t for the colorful display on the can, he might not have been able to see it. His muscles burned, and he could even feel the muscles in his fingers as he tried to pull himself closer using the grated floor.
Just as he felt like he would pass out, he gathered what strength he had left to use both arms to pull him toward it. The fall knocked what little breath that he had left out, but he was now close enough and quickly shoved the built-in mask to his face and breathed.
Once he had taken a few breaths, he began to laugh. He had been swindled. The can of air smelled like nothing, and it was supposed to be air from that beach. He laughed because he knew his mother would lie and tell him that it did smell like her favorite beach just to make him happy.
Sidian knew that there wouldn’t be much air in it, but he rested for a few moments. He felt as though he had run three marathons back to back. His trachea burned along with every muscle in his body. Even though he was breathing air, he felt like he had to yawn. He resisted it, and it further motivated him to get to a starsuit.
He began to shiver as he made it to where the starsuits are stored. Luckily for him, his outdated internal combustion style engine had kept his ship warmer than the other ships nearby. They both use a cryogenic engine that uses a freezing and thawing method to produce energy. An engine that never gets warmer than thirty-three degrees Fahrenheit.
Unlike most technologies that are becoming more digitally based, starsuits are simple and analogue, much like a diving suit. Without protection from the freezing cold of space with a proper shielding technology, electronics will not work. Because of this, the oxygen system relies on your body heat to maintain its function and must be donned first before the starsuit which is a bit like donning a suit of armor. With so many stars in close proximity, there are quite a bit more neutrinos on the loose, and the armor on the suit is designed to help deflect them away.
Sidian has never been a fan of spacewalks, nor does he like the claustrophobic feel of the starsuit. He wasn’t planning to walk in space, but he dreaded this process nonetheless. On top of that, he would have to hold his breath this time as there was no way to strap the can of air to his face, and the suit doesn’t start pumping oxygen until all the pieces are connected.
Often when he was younger, he would dip his head under the water while taking a bath and exhale his breath and then just relax for a few seconds before resurfacing to take a breath. He wasn’t trying to kill himself, but enjoyed that brief calming moment before the urgency of needing to take a breath would force him out of the water. Something he thought would never be useful outside of that, but with practice, he was able to go for longer, being able to resist those initial urges.
As he donned the suit, he was grateful that he had taken it that far. Thirty seconds, forty seconds, one minute. He lost count after hitting one minute but would later be timed by a friend at two minutes and forty-seven seconds. It’s been many years since he last did it, and he was pretty sure that he had passed that mark just as he was getting the helmet in place. However, he didn’t hear the familiar hiss of the oxygen. This sent him into a bit of a frantic panic to find where the suit was not connected properly.
He felt the strange pull of his diaphragm which desperately wanted to function involuntarily. He was getting frustrated as he knew that it had to be something so simple that would take him out. He then kicked the frame of the locker where the starsuit had been kept, and then he suddenly heard the hiss of air coming into the helmet. Sidian forced himself to breathe in slowly and it agonized him.
Only after several breaths was he able to feel calm again. He then let out a long sigh with his next exhale. He would now have to go through the lengthy process of restarting the analogue systems manually. It’s enough of an effort without a starsuit on, but he was concerned for the nearby pilots and had to see if he could rescue them, knowing that their digital systems would most likely not restart.
