I was a goner. That much I knew.

It was all over, all the metals on the walls, all the honors. All of it was over and impossible now. I had failed, I would return to earth an utter failure. I didn’t have the proper tools to be this far away and as I drifted toward the homeworld of the Ceron, I knew I had no chance of survival. I would do what I could to prolong my life but, I knew somewhere, deep, deep down, that I would never live to see my children or my wife. My hands shook as I forced them into the sidebag that we astronauts were supposed to carry. I had held my breath long enough- I didn’t take walks as seriously as I should, especially routine mission walks- and slid the mask over my bearded chin. The fuzzy hair above my lip rejected the mask’s suction at first, but as I pressed a button on the side that hooked up to my tank, I knew that soon I would be able to breathe. Inside my headset I heard the buzzing of the men in the comms section back on earth, I heard the pilot, the spotters, I even heard people on Retin. They were all extremely concerned for my wellbeing.

Before all of this, I reflected as I closed my eyes and prepared for the slight jabs in my sides, I was a war hero. A damned war hero. An idol to a child, a model husband. I was what we wanted back on earth. I was a fit man, an honorable one too. My wife and child had everything in their horizon. This would devastate Martha, she would cry and find comfort in my brother or even her work, she would work herself to death as a distraction. Brandon would do exactly the opposite- he was too young now to really understand what death meant. There was a part of me, now that I think of him, which made me want to live. Suddenly, I was infuriated. I hated everything, I hated the hand that I was dealt, I hated myself above it all. I deserved to die; I deserved to suffocate in the vacuums in space. This was something I didn’t want but needed.

I remembered the war as I floated even further and further away, everything became a little bit tighter now, my suit especially. It grabbed at my neck and the mouthpiece on the mask was digging into my lips. This was not a comfortable or glamorous way to die. I still deserved it, though. That wouldn’t change anytime soon. Even if all my deeds had been good and I had successfully saved millions of lives with my military planning and actions of diplomacy. It didn't matter now, I would asphyxiate the same way as a war criminal or a murderer who no longer fit in the jails. It was fair this way. Life was fair in this fashion. It was only right that I would die alone, though. I had been alone the majority of my life. It was fitting with the rest of my story. But the war. The war was what freed me from the chains I had placed around myself. I became a soldier in the spring of 2280 and in 2290 I was qualified enough to be a space marine. It was pretty amazing, especially the first flight (of many) to Retin. The Ceron were the first race I encountered. They were a beautiful and intellectual people. But the Ceron as a whole were survivalists. Their care lied with themselves and progress and they didn't mind the humans or Quiox who seemed interested in their planet. After settling a war between the Retin and Quiox, we were able to move to trade with the both of them and space finally seemed to pacify. My final tour, however, involved traveling to deep space to meet with an ambassador of the Elid people. The Elid were ancient and had progressed past the point of the Retin or Quiox. Meeting with the ambassador, who was called Ela'diah, was essentially talking with a dream. The Elid use mental waves to convey messages rather than words. Ela'diah new some words of English and was hardly able to pronounce them in her mind rather than speak them.

All of it was interesting and spectacular. The Retin had sent us on the mission to speak to the Elid and we had just arrived to their warp when one of the side panels fell off during the quick travel. Going back through the warp would be stupid and all the boys on this ship protested walking on the side. I was the only one with the gall to even attempt placing the piece of metal on the ship. But, I didn't take it seriously enough and will now die for it.

I finally felt it, a sharp push into my ribs. I knew it would come soon. The oxygen was running low, our tanks weren't filled for long term space walks, only for short repairs. I should just...

I should just let it go. My fate's already sealed, why try to fight anymore?

I felt around for the latch on my back, finding it, I let the latch for the tank. It was freed now, with the wires and all, it floated far away and crumbled in the pressure. I put a hand on my mask, forcing a few final breathes before I yanked it off and held my breath and nose.

I closed my eyes.
I kept my mouth covered.
And I got ready to just... die, I guess.

I kept my mask in my hand; I just needed something to hold onto. I kept it close to my chest, which now felt swollen in the suit. I felt weak in the head and decided to just let go. I stopped holding my nose, stopped covering my mouth and took a hard breath in, prepared to die... I knew it would end this way...

I took a deep breath and coughed hundreds of times. I threw myself off the table, grabbing at my throat and chest. I cried for a few seconds, I scratched at my neck and screamed at the discovery of my own voice. I dug nails into my skin and fell forward.

"You are mad." A small, familiar voice struggled. Her fingers touched her lips. Ela'diah. I looked at her with wide eyes and grabbed for my chest, it felt like a baseball bat had just struck me. She moved forward and I finally got a good look at her. She had dark green skin, with a slight undertone of purple. Her fingers were not fingers, just appendages with claws. Her eyes were catlike and the color of sunset. Her lips, plump, were pressed in a strict line. Her claws touched the side of my face, her legs slowly setting her to the ground. I watched her and felt drops of sweat trickle down my nose and chin. A thumb pressed against my nose and wiped away the sweat. A curious hand touched my cheek. I coughed until worn down, my lung gasping and begging for air. I rolled onto my back, away from her, my shoulder pressed against the strange material that was the table. I screeched for air again. She simply watched.

“Humans. Strange.” She said, her voice as cold and indifferent as it was when I first met her. She watched me suffer, her hand pressing on my chest and applying twice the pressure already there.

As I struggled, I made eye contact with her. Convulsions began and I had little control over my body or my being. My brain needed oxygen, my whole body needed oxygen. She sat stone. At this moment I hated her. At this very second I wanted the strength to reach forward and kill her and make her pay for watching me suffer.

I’m assuming she heard me.

With her hand off my chest, she uttered something completely foreign and stood. She threw a hand into the door, which slid open and stormed away- like an angry child after not getting what they want. I continued to convulse and felt my fingers going numb. My toes would be next and then my whole body would be entirely cold.

To my surprise, she came back. With a mask. She fumbled with the buttons, her claws struggling to find the proper mechanism to turn it on. After an antagonizing few seconds, the mask beeped loud and air pushed out of the nose and mouth piece. She fell to the ground, pushing the mask hard into my mouth and nose.

Another came in, all dressed in white. Even more followed. I was finally able to breathe. I watched them with lidded eyes and felt myself fill with life once more. She saw my eyes and where they went, her claws wrapped the mask around the base of my neck and she turned around after doing so.

A man, just like her, dressed in a long white gown, pushed the others aside. She spoke quickly, something unintelligible to my uneducated ears and he lunged at her, a clawed hand slapping her across her cheek and knocking her to the ground. “I failed.” I heard this, barely audible next to the movement of feet from a crowd and an array of voices.