The trek here had been long and arduous. He had never been here before, never been in a ship, but now he was all alone. Pure isolation. This isolation felt even greater, given that he’d been stuck in the same seat for what felt like an eternity. No motion in this place. Floating like the infinite planets that littered the universe. He used to fight it, troubleshooting for hours and days on end, but now he had come to accept it.
It wasn’t entirely bad, after all. No one could hurt him up here. It felt strangely safe. Solitude can be piercing, but with the quiet of the stars and the hum of the engine, it was pleasant. He’d dream of spending time with others only to return to his reality at hand, fully understanding the weight of this situation. The rest of the crew had been killed, not by other humans, but by the demanding nature of their setting. He predicted he would lose his mind after all of this time alone, but he was serene. A calm had washed over him.
He knew he would wither away, but he tried not to think of it in a grotesque, violent way. He framed it as evaporation, the beautiful way water turns into mist once it’s deemed unfit for its environment. He would evaporate. He would unite with the vacant terrain of his surroundings. He would be forever lost in what he had always wanted to explore. There was no telling when it would happen exactly, but the certainty of that event was beyond a single doubt.
But maybe he’d predicted this too soon. A light whirring sounded in the distance, and a glimmer of orange refracted itself through the small window near him. Some type of satellite, gone absolutely haywire. At his current view, it was mesmerizing. The crashing, burning satellite coursing through space was barely audible, almost imperceptible if he didn’t give it his full attention. He saw it inch closer and closer. He could almost feel the blistering heat of its speed clashing with the ship.