You come from an academic background, and are a graduate from college or university. As such you hold a qualification (the equivalent of a degree or higher) in a specific subject, and are generally considered an expert in that topic.

What is your area of expertise? What was the learning institution like? Is that subject still your passion, or was your education more the choice of somebody else?

The void beyond is as thrilling to some as the seas were in the distant past. Some cross this black void so as to explore it, to find riches in distant planets, to brave frontiers. You know these people well—they’re your prey. Space pirates make a living of attacking other spaceships and taking their cargo (and often the ships themselves!) as spoils. It’s a crude life, but definitely an exciting one. You used to be a space pirate, but now you find yourself without a crew.

You’re a hard-bitten veteran accustomed to long voyages, short supplies, and hostile environments. A career as a voidrunner seems like the logical next step.

Were you a battlefield soldier in a war between worlds? A mercenary or security guard? Were you a front-line grunt, an officer, or a specialist such as a medic or an engineer? Did you retire with honor or in disgrace, or do you still serve?

Far from the tawdry confines of the limelight, you wield another form of social power. One ruled by bloodlines and good breeding and a complicated hierarchy of rules and manners you’ve lived among since birth.

Just how highly does your family rank among the rich and powerful? What secret societies and powerful friends can you call on? What lengths will you be told to go to in order to protect your family’s good name?

Salvager, picker, vulture, or treasure hunter, whatever you call yourself, you’ve made a living off of going through wrecked and decommissioned ships and structures and taking the best of it.

Did you choose this life, or were you forced into it by circumstance and hard living? Were you part of an organized crew of government contractors methodically breaking down wrecked crafts in space, a solo picker scrabbling over the best pieces, or a self-proclaimed treasure hunter looking for mysterious in long-abandoned ruins?

In an age of near-infinite interconnectivity, it is easy for the nuances of a particular culture to be lost, for languages to fall out of use, and crafting or foundry techniques to no longer be passed down in favor of a more generic, mass-produced version. Whether you have been given this responsibility by your people, trained for it by a mentor, or have taken it upon yourself, you seek to preserve features of your culture, (and perhaps that of others). Some who walk this path specialize in a specific facet, such as craftsmanship, dance, or literature, while others are generalists.

Whether you’ve been acing dogfights or dutifully lugging cargo, your working life has been spent strapped into the cockpit of a tin can as it blasts its way between the stars. You feel at home at the helm, and whether your particular tin can was glamorous or not you still have countless successful missions under your belt.

You worked underground, mining rare elements or energy. Life as a miner is hard, even with all the technology available today, and it rarely pays well. You feel at home beneath the surface, and have learned not to fear the dark.

What were you mining? Why did you leave? Who employed you? Did you witness any tragedy, and if so how was it handled?