Grown in the Light of a Dying Star

[Katpride]

The people who built the tiny research outpost that was now locked in orbit around Eurydice had a terrible sense for aesthetics. Seriously, it was all unremarkable hallways and unpleasantly geometric chambers, and almost all of the windows were tiny portholes that were jealously guarded by roving teams of scientists. Or, uh, they used to be guarded by those scientists, anyway. Before things started falling apart, and most of the scientists died. They had been the ones on the side of the station facing Eurydice when the star started gearing up to go supernova, and now they were probably dust.

The station lurched again under Curie’s feet, and she stumbled, catching herself by throwing her much-abused forearms onto a crate before she could fall all the way to the floor. Briefly, she felt her hair float up around her ears, her boots losing contact with the ground as the station’s artificial gravity glitched, but it snapped back into place only a moment later, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Or maybe that was just the air being forced from her lungs as she was pressed against the crate none too gently, the gravity coming back a little stronger than it was before.

Ugh. It didn’t matter. She had to keep moving. She had to get to the failsafe, or-

She just had to get to the failsafe, she thought, swiping her hand over her damp cheek and scrubbing away the last of the moisture there. That accomplished, she levered herself up, and continued across the room to the airlock. She was counting the seconds under her breath as she punched in the code, as the door slid open and she stepped inside, as it closed and the door on the other side opened. “302, 303, 304…”

The ground heaved under her feet just as she hit 305, and Curie grabbed the sides of the airlock chamber to keep herself stable. Okay. Five minutes and change between pulses. She could do this. She just had to keep moving.

Sniffing once, she put her game face on and stepped out into the hallway. Only to immediately stop, staring at the figure she could see silhouetted in the angry red light streaming in from a tiny porthole window. The lights were out, she noted, distantly, reaching for the flashlight tucked into her - don’t think about it - her belt. (It was hers, now. Maven was-) She pushed the thought savagely aside and clicked the light on, shining it on the floor between them.

“Jupiter?” She called, recognizing the figure now that there was a little light and they weren’t just a shadow in a dark room. Her voice was rough, but she found a smile tugging at her lips, despite everything. What a relief it was, to run into a familiar face. “What are you-? No, it doesn’t matter. I need your help. We need to get to the bridge. Eurydice is dying ahead of schedule, and-” Her voice cut, suddenly, as she was blindsided by a spasm of grief so tangible it was almost a hiccup, but she forged on. “-and no one knows but us. The communication dishes went down an hour ago.”

For scheduled maintenance, she didn’t say. It didn’t matter. Except that it did, to her, and maybe only to her. I should’ve been out there helping him, she thought, again, even though she didn’t really want to think about what would’ve happened to her if she had been.

She was the only engineering apprentice that Maven had brought with him to Orpheus. If she had been out there with him, then the station would have no one who knew how to activate the failsafe. That she knew of, at least. There were so many things she didn’t know, though. Maybe all the higher-ups knew about the failsafe. Maybe they all knew the dials to turn and levers to pull. Maybe they'd all been on the side of the station facing Eurydice, and their dust was mingling with that of the scientists’. She just didn’t know.

What she did know was that she couldn’t afford to slow down, on the off chance that she really was their last hope. She tried to force some confidence into her steps as she strode down the hallway, motioning for her friend to follow her to the airlock on the opposite side. Stars, the station had so many airlocks. Just, a ridiculous amount. It was a bit annoying, trying to get around on a usual day, but she supposed that it had paid off, since they were still breathing filtered air and walking around in normal gravity even with a good chunk of the station pulverized.

While she punched in her access code (which was really Maven’s override code), her eyes flicked to the side, glancing at Jupiter and then away again, uncharacteristically shy. “Didn’t think I’d find you at the end of the world,” she eventually mumbled, a faint heat burning high in her cheeks. “Maybe we can find you an escape pod, when we get to the bridge.”

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Jupiter never liked her name. Being named after a massive gas giant wasn’t exactly flattering. Worse, Jupiter Primerous and Jupiter Secundous were long gone, wiped away after years of severe experimentation. Now, JUPITER stood for something else entirely- the Judgment Unit for Preemptive Interstellar Tactical Elite Response. A ridiculous mouthful, in her opinion. The fact that her father had named her this felt ironic, considering her career choice. A trainee for the same force, that he despised so much. Almost funny.

Her father wasn’t thrilled with her choices. Choosing the military over the family business had put a strain on things. She couldn’t see herself spending her life monitoring a star or something. It all felt pointless. Funny how, now, it seemed so important when things were all going down in flames, in more ways than one.

She had been stationed elsewhere, far away from Eurydice in fact, but here she was, standing in this space station. Why?

A hunch. That’s all it was. She had no orders, no mission, no real reason to be here. She just wanted to see her friend- Or was it more of an acquaintance? Hard to say. They hadn’t spent much time together, but she liked Curie. She never understood half of what the scientist rambled on about, but she nodded along anyway. It was nice, having someone who didn’t dumb things down for her, even if she had no clue what she was talking about. It had been a rough week in her outpost, she hoped to have a something to smile at, her wish was clearly not going to be fulfilled.


Hours before things went south, she had landed safely on the private port, far from the bridge. One of the rare times her father’s obsession with status worked in her favor.

She had already seen the destruction. Running through the station, searching for Curie, searching for survivors or for anything useful. A data pad, a working communicator, something. But now she understood why she couldn’t call for help, the damn dishes were down, because of course they were.

She ducked slightly through the doorway; surprised Curie recognized her right away, looking at her as if she was the wisest person in the galaxy. Then again, the more she thought about it- Between her bright hair, her stature, her rifle, and her armor suit, she wasn’t hard that hard to identify.

"My ship warned me about potential danger in the area," She lied. "I checked it out and came to help, but... seems like I’m too late."

She slung her rifle over her shoulder, raking a hand through her fiery red hair in a futile attempt to tame it. The station’s tremors ruined any effort at tidiness.

"The bridge is up in flames. I think the fuel station went off- There’s no way we’ll get through in time, and I doubt the pods are working..." She weighed her words carefully, unsure if her plan made any sense. "We can reach my ship if we hurry. How much time do you need to fix this?"

Jupiter didn’t know much about fixing disasters like this. If anyone could, it was Curie; at least, she hoped so. Jupe wasn’t a scientist or an engineer. These days, everything was automated, so she never had to learn any of it, now she felt stupid for ignoring her father's demands.

 

[Katpride]

“Damn,” Curie cursed, soft and under her breath. The airlock door slid open, and she stepped inside, but all the while her mind was whirling. If the bridge was down, she’d have to do things the hard way. The… not pretty way.

“You’re sure it’s the whole bridge?” she asked, trying to massage away the twist in her brow before it could give away her thoughts. She needed something to do with her hands. She put her flashlight between her teeth and snagged one finger on her hair tie, pulled it loose from her hair, and snapped it around her wrist while she wrangled the frizzy blue curls into a neater ponytail. “I’unno h’w-”

She took the hair tie from her wrist and wound it around her hair, stepping into the next room. “-l’ng it t’kes. I…”

She took the flashlight from her mouth, but the words didn’t continue. Her mouth worked for a moment, and she rubbed her hand over her lips and chin, stalling, not meeting Jupiter’s eyes.

This room was another storage room, as most were on this side of the station, rendered strange and unfamiliar by the red emergency lighting along the floor. Crates were strapped to the floor in neat stacks, but a few of the taller stacks had toppled and spilled their contents into the aisle. Curie kept moving forward, picking her way over protein bars and other detritus to reach the next airlock.

“I changed my mind. I think maybe you should… get back to your ship. I can, um, I can do the emergency protocol on my own.” She punched in the access code with stiff fingers, keeping her eyes resolutely pinned to the tiny screen as it processed. Please, let Jupiter not question her. Just this once. She didn’t want to explain what she had to do. Hell, she didn’t want to do it, not really. But… if she was really the only one left who knew it needed to be done, then she didn’t have any other choice.

“Where are you parked?” Her voice was light, but her knuckles were white around the grip of the flashlight.

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Jupiter sighed, a weak, fleeting attempt to suppress the frustration bubbling beneath her skin. It did little to mask the gnawing fear curdling in her gut, twisting around Curie’s suggestion like an unwelcome thought she couldn’t shake.

“All the way to the other corner of the station, opposite to the bridge, VIP lounge-” she repeated flatly, words sharp yet carefully measured. Opposing orders had become second nature at this point, her way of clashing against expectations with stubborn precision. And now, as she stepped closer to her companion, her size alone made the gesture carry weight—though intimidation was far from her intent. The contrast between her looming presence and the warmth laced into her words was enough to blur the line between reassurance and quiet concern.

“I know you will be mad,” she admitted, forcing the confession past the tightness in her throat. “But I can’t just leave while this thing is falling apart, much less while you’re standing here tryna fix things.” She exhaled sharply, shaking off the tornado of thoughts crawling up her spine. “It’s my duty, because-” It’s you. The words stopped short, refused to leave her lips, caught in the tangle of hesitation. “-i’m part of J.U.P.I.T.E.R. We don’t leave anyone behind. Protocol, and all…”

Her hand settled against Curie’s shoulder, gentle, though firm once it had reached its target. She wasn’t sure who needed the reassurance more, her or her friend. But that hardly mattered now. They were both in this, and whatever happened next, she had decided, neither of them would be facing it alone.

“Listen,” she continued, her voice steadier now, more certain. “I’m staying. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Who knows... Maybe you’ll need someone to bring down a door for you, and I don’t see you managing that on your own.” She teased lightly, a rather pathetic attempt at lowering the tension

Her fingers curled slightly, attempting to ground her thoughts further, no time for doubt or fear.

“When things go-” She corrected herself with a firm shake of her head. “IF things go sideways, my ship is faster than whatever cheap pod model they had in the bridge. We can get out. You just say the word.”

Her voice softened at the edges. She presented herself as brave, though one look in her eyes was enough to see the silent worry that she carried on her shoulders.

“Just- Please. Let me help you.”