Firstclass Pov ((top)) -

I’ve done this exact repair twenty-three times. I could do it blindfolded, which is good, because the sun keeps sliding in and out of my peripheral vision like a migraine waiting to happen. The station’s rotation means I get sixty seconds of blazing light, then sixty seconds of absolute black. Like a celestial interrogation lamp.

I’m projecting. Obviously.

Saito. Status.

A crackle in my helmet speaker. “Saito, this is Solstice. Status report.” firstclass pov

“Copy. Any anomalies?”

Instead, I tilt my helmet up. The Milky Way spills across the sky like a wound. Stars so thick they look like milk, like dust, like God sneezed and forgot to clean up. I’ve seen this view a thousand times. But tonight—or whatever passes for night up here—it hits me different. I’ve done this exact repair twenty-three times

“Copy.”