In the Wake of Stars

Chapter 17: A Fitting Farewell

The ship was quiet, the hum of machinery replaced by an oppressive stillness as Nora and Cal gathered in the small common area, the weight of Olsen’s absence heavy in the air. The glow of the dimmed lights flickered over them, casting shadows that mirrored the grief etched on their faces.

“We should at least try,” Nora murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at the small, makeshift memorial they had put together—a few of Olsen’s belongings, remnants of his life before cryostasis. A faded photo of him with a smile, a worn-out journal filled with handwritten notes, and a simple plant that had somehow survived the chaos.

Cal nodded, his expression more serious than she had ever seen it. “Yeah, he deserves that much.”

As they stood side by side, the silence stretched, their thoughts heavy with the memories of their friend. Olsen had been a complex figure—a man shaped by years of sleep and darkness, but he had also been their guiding light in the shadows of the unknown.

“Do you think he would’ve wanted something grand?” Nora asked, her voice trembling slightly. “Or maybe just… something honest?”

“Honestly feels right,” Cal replied, his tone somber. “It’s what he was. Not flashy, just real.”

Nora took a deep breath, her heart aching as she began to speak. “Olsen was… he was more than just a crew member. He was our bridge to the past, our compass in the dark. He helped us understand what we were up against, and he didn’t have to. He chose to help.”

Cal stepped forward, his expression fierce. “He took care of us when we were lost. He faced the entity without flinching, and for that, we owe him everything.” His voice cracked slightly, but he held it together, determination in his gaze.

Nora felt a lump in her throat as she glanced at the memorial. “I wish he could’ve seen our new planet. He would have loved it.”

“Then let’s give him that,” Cal said, his resolve evident. “We can’t let his memory fade. We’ll send him out there, into the stars, where he belongs.”

They spent the next few hours preparing, gathering tools and supplies for their plan. They found one of the small fighter vessels that had been neglected, a relic from a time when they had more than just survival on their minds. It was in rough shape, but with some work, they could make it fly—just enough to send Olsen on his final journey.

As they finished their repairs, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a deep indigo hue over the ship. Cal and Nora stood at the open hatch of the fighter, looking out into the vast expanse of space, where a million stars twinkled like diamonds against the black canvas.

“Let’s do this,” Cal said, a hint of melancholy in his voice. They gently placed Olsen’s body in the cockpit, surrounding him with the memories they had gathered.

“On three?” Nora suggested, her heart pounding.

“Yeah. One… two… three.”

They pushed the fighter out into the void, watching as it glided effortlessly into the inky darkness. Nora’s heart ached as the vessel drifted further away, their connection to Olsen slowly fading into the depths of space.

Cal took a step closer to her, his shoulder brushing against hers. “We’re giving him a proper send-off. Into the light.”

Nora nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “To the brightest star.”

The fighter ship began to accelerate, headed for the brilliant star that shone brightly in the distance. Cal’s hand found Nora’s, squeezing it tightly, anchoring her in the moment.

“I’ll always look up at that star and think of him,” he said quietly, his voice almost breaking. “He may be gone, but he’s not forgotten.”

As the fighter ship ignited in a flash, bursting into flames as it entered the star’s atmosphere, Nora felt a pang of sadness mixed with a strange sense of relief. The brilliance of the explosion illuminated the darkness, and for a brief moment, it felt like Olsen was being embraced by the very light he had fought to protect.

“Goodbye, Olsen,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Thank you for everything.”

Cal’s grip tightened around her fingers, a silent promise passing between them. “He’ll always be with us,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on the brightening star.

They stood together, watching as the remnants of the fighter ship dissolved into the brilliance of the star, a final tribute to their fallen friend.

And as they turned away, the night sky was forever changed. From that day forward, whenever they looked up, they would see the brightest star shining down on them, a beacon of hope and memory. Olsen would always be a part of their journey, guiding them through the darkness as they charted their course toward an uncertain future on their new planet.

In that moment, Nora realized the truth: they had faced the abyss and emerged stronger, together. The bond they shared—fueled by grief, resilience, and unspoken connection—was something she could no longer deny. Whatever lay ahead, they would face it side by side.