Underspace Trainer Work

If you have the nerve, the patience, and the psychological fortitude to teach others how to survive where no light reaches, then look into underspace trainer work. The abyss is waiting—and it needs a teacher.

It isn’t.

Every trainee gets a "tether word." It is usually something mundane. "Coffee." "Sock." "Brick." When they lose the plot, when they start to merge with the Sponge, I lean into the mic and say the word. Not loud. Intimate. It acts as a splinter of reality. You would be amazed how many salvage runs have been saved by a grown adult whispering "Doorknob" into a headset. underspace trainer work

I have spent fourteen years as an Underspace Trainer. That is not a pilot. That is not a navigator. That is the person who sits in the jump seat behind you, pumps tranquilizers into your neck when your eyes start to bleed, and forces you to unlearn the laws of physics before the laws of physics un-learn you. If you have the nerve, the patience, and