>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.
