Silence. She knew the absolute seclusion of her hardsuit far too well for her comfort. Despite the groans and screeches of the dying ship, she was swaddled in the hush of her helmet's filters. The angry crimson klaxons couldn't reach her in her calm. She was the eye of the raging storm.
Ropes of twined cables splayed loose from their fixtures, veins severed from the pulse of the ship. In the scarlet blend of alarm and flame, the broken bulkheads and burning oil were synonymous with bones and blood. The Normandy was fighting for her last breaths.
Thick, black smoke hazed her vision, twisting the morbid scene into surrealism. She was blind as well as deaf, now, her senses failing with the ship's systems. In this absence of input, her brain birthed its own. Memories intertwined with monsters, screams of the dying merged with the steady voice of her suit's VI.
The hull has been breached by… [enemy unknown.] Commence evacuation.
She damn well would. Signaling her crew to the sanctuary of the escape pods, she wrested her body free from the malfunctioning a-grav deck, fighting for freedom of her leaden legs. Wisps of fire swirled around the stairway, beautiful and elusive as nuclear fireflies.
As she approached the portal to the CIC, the metallic doors buckled under the weight of the void and hissed into space. Her world was as still as a dream.
Alchera's icy light harshly contrasted the fiery radiance of the Normandy's heart. The glittering blitz in place of the holo-map threw dazzling sparks into the sky. She moved to the quiet rhythm of her own breathing, pulse quickened by adrenaline. She nudged a gunnery station's chair out of her path and watched its gentle arc across the universe.
The filmy mass effect field encasing the bridge yielded to her touch, allowing her passage while retaining its miniature atmosphere. The orange flush reflected in her pilot's eyes tricked her into security.
Maybe none of this had happened. He was just concentrating more intently than his usual, any moment now he would turn and wave and-
She quivered with the shake of a falling bulkhead, shockwaves reverberating through the ship. No. There's no time. Ignoring his protests, she hoisted him over her shoulder and shuffled to the shuttle.
Without warning, the world went supernova.
She flew through the vacuum, crashing through fire and metal and hope. Pieces of her home whirled with her, smashing into each other and herself. The stars spun with wild abandon. Iridescent lights crossed her vision, leaving comet trails behind. She vaguely noted a smaller, duller spark flashing a deep red in time to her heartbeat.
This suit has been compromised. Pressure leaks located at base of neck and lower back.
Shimmering fluid flickered at the edges of her sight. She craned her neck to see the source of it, but found her movements sluggish.
Oxygen levels critical. Backup tanks are not in place.
She writhed in the brilliant darkness, isolated from everything she'd ever known. She grasped for time, for light, for life, gloved fingers curling around her neck. The drums of the delicate blood vessels in her ears slowed their fervent tempo and her mind lost clarity.
No power remaining. Shutting down vital systems.
Her luminous world blurred and a small sun took up residence behind her retinas. The eternal fusion of it clouded her thoughts, uniting her with the base elements of her body and rending her in two. She saw only the void, and cried for freedom. Between the spaces of the stars, she raised her arms and danced with angels.