Echoes of the Past

The sterile hum of The Ascendant filled the corridors, a constant reminder that life aboard the colony ship had resumed after two centuries of silence. The ship's artificial lights bathed everything in a soft glow, but to some, it was a harsh awakening to a reality they weren't ready to face.

Crewman Elias Vance sat at the edge of his bunk, his head bowed, hands clenched together. His uniform felt stiff against his skin, unfamiliar after 200 years of stillness. His body ached, but the pain was nothing compared to the weight pressing against his chest.

They were gone. His parents. His mother with her gentle hands, his father with his weathered, knowing gaze were nothing but echoes now. He had known this would happen. He had prepared for it, convinced himself that time would take them long before he ever opened his eyes again.

But knowing something and feeling it were entirely different things.

The holoscreen in front of him flickered, playing an old message. His parents' faces appeared, aged but warm. His mother smiled first, the lines on her face deeper than he remembered.

"Eli, sweetheart. I hope you're seeing this from that fancy new planet of yours"

His father, sitting beside her, chuckled, though it was weak. His body had thinned, his hands trembling slightly.

"You always were the stubborn one. Tried to drag your old man and me along for this ride. But we're not meant for something like that, love. This is our home. Always has been"

Elias gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening.

"Your father's been a bit of a mess without you, you know" his mother teased, nudging the old man beside her.

"Oh, hush" his father muttered, though there was a fondness in his voice. Then, turning serious, he looked directly into the screen.

"Son, don't waste your new life looking back"

Elias sucked in a sharp breath.

"You did right by us. And we're proud of you"

The video ended. The silence left behind was unbearable.

Elias inhaled shakily, running a hand over his face. His chest ached with something raw and ugly. They had been proud of him. But he hadn't been there. He hadn't sat beside them in their final days. He hadn't held their hands.

He had been asleep, unaware, while time stole them away.

A sharp knock pulled him back to the present. He wiped his face quickly before turning to see his wife standing in the doorway.

Lillian Vance leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. She had already changed into her uniform, her posture composed, as if she hadn't just woken from a 200-year slumber.

"I figured I'd find you here" she said softly.

Elias exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Where else would I be?"

Lillian hesitated before stepping inside, her eyes flicking to the dimmed holoscreen. She knew what he had been watching.

"They wouldn't have wanted you to do this to yourself" she murmured.

Elias let out a bitter laugh. "I know" He paused, voice cracking slightly. "But knowing doesn't stop it from hurting"

Lillian said nothing at first. She had always been the rational one, the one who processed things in neat, logical steps. She had woken up and immediately reported to the data sector, immersing herself in numbers, analyzing the ship's journey logs. It was easier that way. Numbers didn't leave you.

But Elias had always felt things deeply. He was a man who carried the weight of the past, who loved fiercely and grieved just as hard.

She sat beside him.

"They were proud of you" she said, echoing his father's words.

Elias nodded, but the pain in his eyes didn't lessen.

Lillian didn't push him further. She simply sat with him, letting the quiet settle between them.

Across the room, their son, Oliver, stood in the doorway, silent and observant. He had always been quiet, a boy who noticed things others missed. And now, after 200 years of nothingness, he was awake, watching his father break apart.

Oliver had never seen him like this. His father had always been strong, a man of action and certainty. But now? Now, he looked lost.

The boy didn't speak. Instead, he stepped forward and sat down beside his parents. He didn't ask his father to stop crying. He didn't tell him everything would be okay.

Instead, he simply reached out and took his father's hand.

Elias looked down, startled, before gripping his son's hand in return. His breath hitched, but something in his chest eased just slightly.

At the other end of the ship, in a spacious, luxuriously appointed room, a young woman stood before a transparent, round mirror. The glass shimmered as it framed her delicate figure, and beyond, the endless void of space stretched out before her.

Stars sparkled like diamonds, scattered across the abyss, each one a tiny beacon in the vast, unknowable dark. The weightlessness of space seemed to mimic the emptiness she felt inside.

Her face was solemn, a reflection of the storm within. Memories flooded her mind, unbidden, overwhelming.

Washington D.C., Year 3025.

Her father had called for her, and she dutifully made her way into the sleek, black car waiting outside their home. The smooth hum of the engine as they drove down familiar streets only heightened the stillness in her heart. Her thoughts drifted back to the days when her mother was still alive. She could almost hear the laughter, see their small family united, the happiness that seemed so natural then. Those were the days when they would ride together in the car, mother and daughter, while her father drove them to destinations unknown.

But that was before. Before the illness.

Her mother had always been a passionate advocate for Earth's renewal. She spent her days planting trees, nurturing the land, desperately trying to restore balance to a planet suffocating under pollution. Ironically, it was the very planet her mother fought so hard to save that had taken her life. The toxins in the air, the chemical pollutants from industrial waste, had slowly killed her, eroding her lungs until she couldn't fight anymore.

Her mother had been a warrior for nature, but in the end, nature had failed her.

No, it wasn't nature's fault. It was humanity's.

Everything had changed after that. The family she had known, the warmth she had felt, slipped through her fingers like sand.

Yet, even in their fractured world, she believed that love still bound them. Though their relationship had shifted, become more distant and formal, like a boss and subordinate, it was still there. She was still his daughter. He was still her father.

Her reverie was broken as the car came to a halt at their destination. She stepped out and was immediately greeted by a man waiting at the door, who led her into her father's office.

Her father was seated in front of a screen, watching the news in grim silence. The images on the screen painted a bleak picture. Pollution, overpopulation, sicknesses caused by unknown factors. Unnatural disasters, triggered by the imbalance between man and nature, flashed in chaotic succession.

Her father didn't even notice her approach at first, lost in the weight of it all. She joined him in front of the screen, her eyes following the tragic reports. After a long pause, her father turned off the display with a flick of his fingers, and for the first time, his gaze locked onto hers.

His voice, steady but tinged with concern, broke the silence. "The Ascendant... This year, thousands will board this ship. The journey to Solivara, a new world for humanity"

She didn't know what to say.

The words didn't seem real, and a part of her refused to believe in it. She'd lived in denial for so long. Only in the quiet of the night, when she was alone, did she feel the dread creep in. The fear that they were making the wrong choice. The fear that everything they had fought for was falling apart.

But her father pressed on, not seeing the walls she had built around herself. "You will board that ship, too"

She had already known that. She knew there was no choice, but she had to fight it. "I don't want to go. I'll stay with you"

Her father's expression hardened, then softened. The anger that flared within him at her words was tempered by a deep, unspoken sorrow. He walked toward her and embraced her head in his hands, pulling her close. His warmth, a rare comfort in the coldness of their reality, surrounded her.

"What if there's no life on that planet?" she asked, her voice trembling, uncertainty slipping into her words.

He closed his eyes, as though wishing he could hold onto the past, hold onto her innocence. "We have to try," he said quietly. "There is no other choice. Earth is dying. Solivara is our last hope"

She cried then, her tears slipping silently down her cheeks. "What if it's the wrong choice?" she whispered.

Her father's arms tightened around her, and he closed his eyes again, feeling the weight of her grief. His own tears, transparent and unbidden, slid down his face, mingling with hers as they stood together, uncertain of what the future held but knowing they could not turn back.

Outside, the stars continued to shine, cold and distant.