Captain Lee stared out the bridge's expansive window at the behemoth that was the Celestial Mariner. The ship's once gleaming hull was now a patchwork of cosmic scars and makeshift repairs—a wounded leviathan.
“Prepare for final docking sequence,” Lee commanded, his eyes not leaving the view. The crew around him moved with swift precision, each well aware that this was not routine; it was a farewell.
The Celestial Mariner, a relic of the old Earth’s fleet, would be decommissioned after centuries of service. Her final resting place would be a graveyard orbit around a forgotten moon, where ships go to rest in silence and darkness.
“Engaging thrusters,” the pilot announced, the ship trembling slightly.
As they drew closer, the details of the Mariner came into focus. Her sides were streaked with the burn marks of re-entries, her antennas and sensors, now worn and bent, stood stark against the vacuum of space.
“Docking complete,” Jenkins reported from engineering. “All systems are now idle.”
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Lee nodded and made his way to the airlock, the corridor silent except for the steady hum of the ship's systems. He met Jenkins by the hatch.
“Ready, Captain?” Jenkins asked, his hand hovering over the control panel.
“Yes. Let’s do this,” Lee replied.
They stepped through the airlock and into the Mariner. The air was stale and smelled unfiltered. They walked through the corridors, their footsteps echoing in the empty passages. Every room told a story of decades-long voyages, battles fought, and distant worlds charted.
“This was my first command,” Lee said as they entered the bridge. The bridge was bathed in the light of a distant sun, dust motes dancing in the beams.
“It’s hard to say goodbye,” Jenkins said, looking around at the aging consoles.
“It’s never just a ship, is it?” Lee mused, running his hand along the back of the captain’s chair. “She has a soul, shaped by all who’ve lived and worked within her walls.”
They stood together in silence, the weight of the moment heavy in the air.
“It’s time,” Lee finally said, his hand resting on the console. With a final nod to Jenkins, he pressed the sequence to shut down the Mariner’s core.
The ship’s lights dimmed, then blinked out, leaving only the moonlight to illuminate the bridge. The soft, ever-present vibration ceased as the core powered down.
As they left, Lee turned for one last look at the bridge. “Goodbye, old friend,” he said.
Back aboard their ship, they watched as the Celestial Mariner faded to a mere speck orbiting the graveyard moon.