The Horrible Adventures Of Sunsun And Moonmoon

[prisonpastthestars]

>The crash

[prisonpastthestars]

>There is no air in space for sound to travel through. Thusly, no one would be able to hear your screams for help.

[prisonpastthestars]

>3 minutes before the crash

It was no problem, absolutely no problem that Solari couldn’t find her supervisor.

Star had used a certain code thrice on their last ship together. She remembered because it was a security concern. According to the handbook, you used a different code on each door and changed them twice a month.

Star clearly either didn’t read that section, or, more likely, didn’t think it that important.

6-2–9-9-9-3-2-9-9-9

Solari had it drilled into her brain by now. And thank the walls for it, she might’ve fainted from stress if it hadn’t worked.

Seeing a nihilist clad in alabile though? She might faint anyways.

The Monoist, for that is the only thing the figure could be, stands at the ship’s controls, their movements obscured by their hulking armor. As the door hisses closed behind Solari, the figure turns to look at her, fiery hair blazing around their shoulders.

As they make eye contact, Star stares at her, eyes wide.

“… Solari.”

Solari’s eyes looked glassy. Because of the bridge’s bright lights or the thin film of tears beginning to form, but neither would be able to tell which.

“… Star.” She looked through the Monoist figure, barely registering their existence. “The autopilot’s not functioning correctly, and there might be a nihilist in the main bridge. Do you know anything about that?”

“Don’t worry, Solari.” Star licks her lips, fear radiating through the alabile. “Everything is alright. Everything is going to remain alright. Don’t worry.”

“Star, I…” her body tries and fails to choke out a laugh. This is all a bad joke. Surely. “I dont think I quite understand.”

“No. No, Solari, I don’t think you do, but you don’t have to worry. It’ll all be fine. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

"I-I want to! I really want to!" She laughs under her breath, terrified. "You can just, engage the autopilot, and this can all be behind us as some, some dumb prank. Okay? Just—Just ENGAGE THE FUCKING AUTOPILOT, STAR!" She didn't catch when or why her voice raised, but the yelling didn't feel right in her throat.

“Come on, Solari. You know I can’t do that. But you trust me, right? I need you to trust me.” Panic rises like bile in her throat as she speaks, blinking back tears.

Her breath quickens. She eyes the wall behind the shadow previously known as Star. There, an emergency bladiator behind an incaglass window. Maybe she could... no. No.

She wasn't stronger or faster than her supervisor. Why did she have to be between Solari and the damned controls?

Solari forces herself to take a step forward. She tries her best to look through Star.

“We will be fine. Everything will be perfect, I promise, and you know I wouldn’t promise anything I don’t know I can deliver. Everything is going to work out…” the Monoist’s voice is almost pleading, echoing coldly in the darkened bridge, “in the Next Eternity.”

Solari makes two sudden actions. For one second, she is frozen, in process or contemplation. The next, she lunges past the Monoist, elbowing the emergency incaglass, making a large crack through the window.

While Solari is occupied, the Monoist reaches back to the control panel, slamming down on the most important button: accelerate. At this angle, the ship will glide cleanly through the Plummet, through Sothera, and into the World to Come.

Solari punches the incaglass window until it gives way, bits of dissipating hard light cutting up her hand. The blade comes alive with an unnerving whirring sound. Sunstar weapons are made to cut through meters of tungsten; the image of what one could do to a person was drilled into the heads of every trainee. She swings at the Monoist once called Star, who flinches back enough not to be hit, moving away from Solari and away from the controls.

“Solari! Stop! Please.”

“You—” The axe-like bladiator hits the controls next to the Monoist's body. “You don't have the right to use my name, nihilist scum! None of it was real, huh? How long?! How long have you been planning to kill us?!” Error and warning messages from the shattered control panel illuminated the two with crimson light.

“No one is going to die, Solari! Don’t you get it?” There’s panic in the Monoist’s pleading voice. “In the World Without Walls, everything will be perfect! We’ll be together, forever!”

“Together forever with you? What a nightmare!”The warning blares were getting loud enough that they could barely hear each other. “Fuck, fuck the ship’s goi—”

The last thing Solari sees before the gravity of the supervoid drags consciousness from them both is pain in the eyes of her former superior.

[prisonpastthestars]

>15 minutes before the crash

Maintenance. Nothing unusual, even if Solari wasn't privy to the specifics. Even if she was dismissed from working for the night. Running basic ship diagnostics helped quell her anxiety. Her heart beating in her throat, trying to think of the right things to say to Star. She wouldn't focus on that. She'd focus on diagnostics.

Strange though. Even with the viy down, autopilot should be charting a far straighter course than the one they were on. No debris, potential impact or otherwise, was showing up on the scans. Just a quick pop into the bridge and—the passkey was wrong.

Part of maintenance must've been changing it. It was fine, no need to panic. Just got to find Star, open the bridge, and troubleshoot the autopilot. No need to panic.

[prisonpastthestars]

>1 day before the crash

The all-ship announcement Star makes is simple. The ship’s viy will be down for two nights, allowing for routine debugging and maintenance checks. All basic features of the ship will remain active and available, including the autopilot and, more important to some, all food service. This should be almost exactly like any other night. The bridge will, of course, need to be empty for most of tonight for the same maintenance and upkeep. As good of a tecnic as Solari is, she’s been assigned to the far fringes of the ship for most of the time the viy will be down. The reasoning is simple, in a time that carries heightened risks, it only makes sense that the two best tecnics would be far apart, to cover as much of the ship as possible.

Star takes a moment to gaze into a mirror, half-dressed, and breathe out a brief prayer. This can only go well.

[prisonpastthestars]

>3 weeks before the crash

The Sagisttar is a larger vessel than she’s used to, but she made it a point to familiarize herself with the layout. While the rest of the crew was busy with a voyage party, she saw little appeal in mingling. Getting to know the vents, chutes, and ladders would surely prove useful in the immediate future. Solari just didn’t think she’d run into anyone within the ship’s bowels.

Star pulls her sleeves down immediately upon the realization that she’s not alone, swiftly returning to the proper, standard state of dress. She comes to face Solari with a perfectly calm ease that all but immediately falters with recognition. She can’t speak.

The silence between them hangs thick enough that you’d struggle to cut it with a knife.

Solari was never one for physical affection. But she quickly embraces Star anyways.

Star chokes out something in the space between a sob and a laugh, hugging back bone-crushingly tight within nanoseconds.

“I didn’t—I thought—I…” she takes a moment to compose her thoughts “I didn’t think my transfer request was effective! Was planning to… busy myself with work.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again unti—um—ever. You. You put in a transfer request?”

“Uh-yeah. With a—oh walls this is embarrassing. A request to be stationed with you. I didn’t think they’d oblige.”

“I—with—specifically with… me?” She’s bright red, eyes wide, staring down at Solari.

“Well, yeah! You’re the only—no, that's mean. You’re… more enjoyable to be around than most.”

“… I’ll take enjoyable to be around. It’s… I’m glad to be doing this with you.”

[prisonpastthestars]

>2 months before the crash

Turns out, transfer requests are very much a thing! Wanted to finish a few jobs here first, can’t afford a sum decrease because I decided to be selfish. Going to figure out Star’s ship and press as hard as possible for a reassignment there. Just need to figure out how to get in contact again.

>2 months before the crash

I have to leave. I can’t do it here. The Coronal-Captain runs the bridge with an iron fist, the knights break shit constantly, and there’s not a spark of intelligence on the ship. This is worse than being alone. This is worse than being with Solari. I’ve put in a transfer request. Somewhere random, just… just hoping I can do it this time.

[prisonpastthestars]

>4 months before the crash

My new ship is horrendous.

The old, old man who appears to be the only other tecnic on a ship that really should have multiple appears to be getting senile. The lights are almost always on, and always too bright. The astelli captain never leaves the bridge, but this does mean I haven’t actually had to go in front of them. We apparently exclusively trawl the edges of the system. For some reason, I miss Solari. I know I shouldn’t. Attachments, especially attachments like her, will only get in the way. There isn’t a single place belowdecks with any acoustics to speak of, so every time I realize I’m humming, every time I remember her pointing it out… I’m confronted, horribly, with the sound of the music dying in empty space. I need to turn the gravity up. I need to get this over with.

>4 months before the crash

Happy to be useful to the sum, it’s a blessing, really. Still, work can be difficult. One of our crew refuses to follow protocol, and it’s driving me haywire. Everything must be done as anyone else would. It’s part of what makes us better than the enemies.

Star liked to bend protocol, but never broke it. She was a free spirit, but not to the narcissistic degree of the void oglers. Just enough to be charming.

I don’t know how reassignment requests work, but I want to see if theres any world where I can be paired with Star again. At least we’ll be able to talk once both our missions are done!

[prisonpastthestars]

>Decades ago, a study was conducted on rats. They would be placed into water and left to drown. These rats would flail and tread for 15 minutes before succumbing to the water. However, if a rat is helped at the 14 minute mark, and then re-exposed to the same conditions, it would continue to struggle for an additional 50 minutes before giving up.

[prisonpastthestars]

>5 months before the crash

“… you’re gonna do great on your new ship. I know it.”

“You’ll do better, I’m sure. But I’ll try not causing any disasters.”

“You’ve succeeded at every test I could put in front of you. I have complete faith in your ability.”

"Well, those were just tests! The real thing is—it’s still scary."

“Solari. Do you trust me?”

"What? Of course I do! With my life."

It’s a bad plan.

When Solari’s eyes open, Star is running away at a dead sprint.

Star has stopped running. She is on the deck of her next assigned ship, standing at the viewport, two fingers pressed to her lips. She doesn’t want to forget this. In any eternity.

Solari stands alone, staring to distant nebulae. The sublime that might've swallowed her up in the past now felt so small in comparison to this new, wonderful feeling.

[prisonpastthestars]

>5 months before the crash

“Superior Star?”

“You know you can just call me Star.”

“Did you… mean what you had said last night?”

“Solari. I am floating in coolant with a damp towel over my face. I don’t remember last night.”

“You…” She debates, internally, how much to tell her, “said you had doubts about The Bright Sum.”

“… no memory of that. Don’t see why I’d have any doubts about it. You know your duties for today?”

“Only everything you…” She clears her throat, “used to help me with! I’m flattered you believe I’m ready for this work on my own!”

“Exactly. It’s important for you to know how to do things. I won’t be here to watch you forever, you know.”

“I suppose a part of me forgot that we won’t be doing every voyage together. You’re… good company.”

“Thank you. You are as well. But, you underestimate yourself. I believe you’ll succeed in every task before you today. Prove me right.”

“Well now there’s pressure, you jerk!”

“You’re a spaceship tecnic. If there’s ever no pressure, you’re probably doing something wrong… actually, if there’s no pressure, you’re probably already dead, so I suppose you wouldn’t care.”

“Heh- oh, walls, you’re the worst.”

“Aren’t I? And… thanks. For last night.”

“I thought you didn’t remember last night!”

“I remember that I woke up in bed. Before that, I just remember dancing with you.”

She fumbles a bit as she remembers it, laughing. “You… said some dumb stuff, hah.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it later. But for now, there’s a very slight coolant leak somewhere along line six. General mess hall area.”

“Hahah—yeah, on it boss!” She could not hold in that truth forever. She just had to pick a damn moment to bring it up. But that moment wasn’t now.

She doesn’t know yet. As the superior officer, Star sees reassignments first. In a bit less than a week, the two of them will be heading to different ships. Star tells herself that it’s a good thing. That it’ll make her plans easier. But, despite everything, she needs Solari to know she can do it all alone.

[prisonpastthestars]

>6 months before the crash

“Oooughhh. S’lari?”

“Superior Star, do you perhaps happen to be intoxicated?” She droned a bit, already knowing the answer. But it wasn’t protocol to assume.

“… you watched me chug a boddle offfffff… I mid’ve drangk too much…” Star is pressing herself into Solari’s side, feeling the cold wall on her back.

“You don’t say.” Solari tried with all her might to keep her inflection neutral. “Lets get you to bed, whatdya say?” She presses up, putting some of Star’s weight on her.

“D’you ever… worry?” Star is light enough to stand against Solari, her whole weight leaned into her.

“About what, ma’am?”

“… what if we’re wrong?” Star clutches onto Solari, hand squeezing her shoulder, leaning on her like a crutch.

“I never doubt The Sum, ma’am. I, on occasion, worry about if I am following it correctly. But nothing tests my faith, no.”

“Well- yeah, of coughse, but… what? Stretch th timeline of th universe as far’sh we can manage, an’ then… what? More time to led nihilishhhhhhts nihilize an’ led people suffer? More hangovers?”

“The Dawn is the goal. Through The Sum’s guidance, happiness and good will always outweigh sadness and evil. In a way, this IS the endgame.”

“Yeah, but the… the Monishts aren’t wrong. Th univershe ends in… all th shtars dyinggg.”

“I was told an allegory about this once. Do you watch movies, Star?”

“… yeahhhh?”

“A Summist enjoys movies. They’ll pause, take notes, rewind to see the best parts over and over, to enjoy it with their loved ones. But they know it will end. A Monoist also recognizes that the movie will eventually end, and, instead of savoring it, chooses to hit fast forward. To cover their eyes at the best parts, to scream in the ears of those enjoying it. That is the difference between us. Yes, the movie will end some day, but thats no reason to not enjoy every second of it.”

“… Shlari…” Star is steadily losing balance, slowly collapsing into Solari’s arms.

“I’m making a note not to let you drink so much next time.”

“Youuuuuu. Didn call me shperior. Or ma’am.”

“I didn’t think you’d notice.” Or she hadn’t thought about it. But that admission wasn’t becoming of her.

“I shiiiiiinksh I love you.”

“Quaint. We will continue this discussion when you are lucid. You’re not liable for any…nonsense you say at this time.”

As if in response, Star lets out a single, nasal snore. Dead weight propped up against Solari, dead asleep.

[prisonpastthestars]

>6 months before the crash

After another completed mission, the Sum appears to have decided that tonight is a very good time to party. In honor of this decision, Star is currently on top of a mess hall table, clutching a tekfiddle, leading most of the ship in a rousing rendition of an old song about a shore leave so unacceptable, it got the entire crew banned from a planet. Star refused to let Solari skip the party, but she has not yet joined the festivities, thinking of parties as places where people are free to make fools of themselves. Star, of course, does very little thinking. After that much alcohol, she’s doing absolutely none.

Solari would rather be anywhere but here. But, The Great Sum trumps desire, and she can only assume that this party was certainly a calculated protocol, and not simply the knights and squires getting bored with the day to day. Half the ship was being oh so loud, but some combination of peer pressure and Star looking just so excited for her to join formed two chains somehow strong enough to keep her tied here. But she would not dance, and she would not drink. She would barely even talk. Until, that is, her supervisor reached out to her and said two horrible little words.

“Climb on!”

[prisonpastthestars]

>Science shows that, when left alone for a long period of time, a baby will cry. However, there is a point at which it will stop. This is not because the situation has improved or the baby has died, but rather that it has become abundantly clear, even to an infant, that no one is coming to help.

[prisonpastthestars]

>6 months before the crash

Star is in the guts of the ship. It is not a spacious area, surrounded by metal and wire. Star hums as she works. The tune is old. Older than that. And Star has known it for as long as she could ever remember. It has filled her mind, seeped into her very bones. Her soul, if you believe in such things, as Star does. Even now, she shifts to match the beat, turning a screw in time with the music. Solari is, as always, with her. They work well together.

"Working while concentrating on a tune seems awfully paradoxical." Solari does not realize how needlessly verbose her words are until they have already left her mouth.

“… what?” Star questions, glancing up from her work for just a moment.

"You're—" she searches for the correct word "Humming, you're humming."

“… oh.” Star’s heart pauses for a fraction of an instant. “Sorry.”

"I was observing, not complaining. It seems hard to do two tasks at once. Are you a muscian?"

“Hobbyist. And I didn’t realize I was doing it. Can’t’ve been that much of a task.”

"You didn’t notice?"

“I did not.”

"You're an odd fellow, Star. And- you may continue."

Star does not continue to hum what she had been humming. After that, a new song is in order.

[prisonpastthestars]

>There is a myth that, when stranded on a barren wasteland with limited resources, humans will become violent with each other and shed their morality. However, in reality, the vast majority of recorded cases tend towards a forced comradery and solidarity, rather than a devolution into violent systems of power.

[prisonpastthestars]

>7 months before the crash

Fuck, I actually like Solari more than I was expecting to. I’ve been trying not to get too close to anyone, and that’s been working with most of the crew, but me and her been hanging out more, even outside work and training. She’s… a lot smarter than she lets on, though I don’t think there’s any chance she actually knows it. She’s definitely not capable of hiding it, she just keeps underestimating herself. And she does look good in 0g. And of course, our bunks are right next to each other. This is gonna be a long voyage. I guess I won’t be alone though. I haven’t thought about being alone much. It’s always come naturally. Everyone else on the ship mingles, everyone’s friends with people… usually, I’m happy alone. Why am I happier with her?

>7 months before the crash

My future crew has proven to be…acceptable company. Not that I harbor any dislike. Star is well learned and clever. Dyison is rugged and disciplined. Wryin looks like he’ll crack under the pressure. I haven’t become acquainted with the others well enough to list names and defining characteristics. But they all seem so…connected. It’s the same old story. You never actually touch anything, your body just transmits the feeling, without your atoms ever coming into direct contact with the world. I’ve always been acutely aware of this separation from everyone else.

Star keeps striking up conversation. I’d love to make her a friend, but surely she has better things to do.