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Nadiya, née Надежда (Nadezhda), was born in Voronezh, Russia, on the 1st of May, 2007.

After 5 months of rigorous training, Nadiya's first space mission was scheduled for the 14th of September, 2007.

She was sent to space in a satellite, sealed inside a container on board, and returned home on the 26th that same month. Back on Earth, Nadiya gave birth to 33 beautiful baby bugs (fortunately, none fathered by Jimmy).

Pony Express hired Nadiya as a janitor 6 months later, thus beginning her career as the most succesful cockroach in space - an accolade that has a shocking amount of competition - and she became a beloved member of the Tulpar.

Here's what each crew member had to say about Nadiya:

Captain Curly: "I had a dream we were laying under a sea of stars, and she whispered something incomprehensibly beautiful to me just before the red sun rose and scorched the Earth - then I woke up. Turns out, it was Jimmy talking in his sleep. Something about 'that damn horse'"

Jimmy: "Nadiya knows all my secrets :)"

Anya: "It's nice to have another woman on board, even if she is 1 inch tall"

Swansea: "Not the worst bug I know"

Daisuke: "Why is there a cockroach wearing a suit in the vents? This I gotta see!"

your style is really unique, as someone who doesn’t often work with oil/chalk pastels, or, that’s what i assume your primary material is, i see a lot of talent.

i don’t mean to absolutely sugarcoat it, but i just wanted you to know i appreciate your work, and i can feel a different emotion looking at each piece. they all have these little details that make it all the more interesting, like the smaller noose hanging from the blue one in corporate punishment. it’s dramatic and heavy, but they’re so, so captivating to me.

<3

You knew that I didn't want to hurt you, but you made sure to leave me scarred.

Until I met you, I didn't know cruelty could look so kind. Now I can't help but see cruelty in places there should be love.

Did you mean it when you promised I wasn't a burden, or was I just a pedestal to help you get what you wanted?

Being in pain is a nightly routine. My eyes are glued together by exhaustion as viscous as tar. I writhe anxiously on my bed while nightmares close in on all sides, sealing me behind my eyelids, but as desperate as my body is for rest, I can’t find shelter – neither while awake nor asleep.

A vague danger stalks my every thought. My nerves are prepared for ambush yet the predator lurks out of sight. Each twitch of movement in the air pricks the hair on my neck, and the drumming from my heart pounds in my ears as I’m herded closer to the edge of sanity, but when I look around, nothing is behind me. Nobody else is here. The claws of darkness are inside, waiting for a chance to hook into my skin and tear themselves free from my dilapidated prison of a body.

I want to escape from myself, but hope is a pitiful old dog, dragging its weakened body through each day to the beckoning calls of friends, family and doctors. The parade straggles further all the time, begging me to catch up – begging me to move away from the shadows tailing behind - but I know it’s futile. My soul is emaciated and I don’t want to go on.

I’m tired of crawling to the next goalpost only to find it gone, along with the crowd that promised to be there. I’m tired of being told it’s going to be OK - that living is worth the bruises and tears and “things will get better”. I keep reaching where “better” is supposed to be only to find myself alone, exhausted on the side of the road. Old and bloodied like last week’s roadkill.

I didn’t know you were going to leave. I didn’t know a part of my heart would be ripped out in complete silence. My deepest fear now a sudden reality. I wake up every day pretending the wounds aren’t agonising, but inside I’m dying a little more each day with the distance that grows between us.