She flexed tension into her wrist until the joint popped. The voice in her earpiece was gravely and wet. It went on and on, the monotone of a vital checklist. Alla was split, not quite detached. A part of her ran through the points with the voice, the other part repeated a message into absurdum. The mantra of a driven woman. "Everything is set, Alla. Three minutes until we light the engines. I suggest you pray to whichever God is foolish enough to have you." The voice was strained, his age being more present in the joke than any mirth the old man had intended. "There are no gods where I am going, Mikhail." Her answer came out angrier than she had intended. "Then pray to a fucking rock, girl, just get back home safe." The tension dissipated and they broke into laughter. The moment of levity grew to warm them both. It expanded until each felt comfortable enough with what could be their final interaction. "T-minus ten seconds." Came a new voice through the comms. A screen coalesced in front of Alla and with quick fingers, she ran through several menus 'til she arrived at her query. Dmitri Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2 started playing inside her cockpit. "Initiating stage one and lighting up the cores." A gentle vibration took hold of the ship just as cellos and clarinets slowly started off on Shostakovich's waltz. The vibration slowly turned into a violent shake as flutes joined the orchestra. "Initiating stage two, releasing cores into rear engines." The interior of her cockpit seemed to shimmer, reality was shifting and her body felt the strain. Yet the orchestra played on, now with an army of violins exploding into the melody. "Initiating stage three. Godspeed, Commander." Her mind screamed as dimensions folded around her and the symphony shouted its last hurrah.
Through the agony came her mantra. The last message that had arrived from her brother's off-world lighthouse, over a decade ago, before he went completely silent. "It... it is here. Somebody tell Alla. It is here. And it is beautiful."