Supplementary Content:

SCENE:

Riley Theopolis, an engineer aboard the *Melancholy*, was stationed at a fledgling space colony embedded in an asteroid. His current mission was to prep for a spacewalk on the asteroid's surface with his team to survey a prospective drilling site. As he meticulously checked his suit and gear, a communication request interrupted his thoughts.

"Riley, there's a comm from Quinn Mari. Shall I connect you?" came the voice from command.

A smile crept across Riley's face, the mention of Quinn—a luminescent singer from the Celestial Colony—always did that. Their bond, formed over months, was an unlikely yet cherished one.

"Patch her in," Riley responded, anticipation clear in his voice.

"In the canvas of the twilight hours, we paint our hues..." Quinn's dulcet tones resonated.

"To a realm unseen, on dreams we flew," Riley countered, a playful edge to his voice.

Quinn's laughter was like wind chimes. "That was the sixth stanza, you know. Though your rendition was… creative. I’m impressed you recalled any of it."

Their shared memories from the night of a poetic soiree Quinn had taken him to emerged. She had confessed her love for that particular piece, and he'd endeavored to remember bits of it.

"I do possess a semblance of artistic sentiment," he teased.

Her voice warmed, "I am finding out something in you."

Matching her tone, he quipped, “I am finding out something in me too."

"Let find it together then. Science and art both," she proposed.
"You'll be at the colony tonight?" she inquired, changing gears.

"As soon as the drill survey wraps up. I've secured leave for the next four days."

Several months later Quinn reflected on their last conversation. Sadly, Riley never got to share those days with her. An unexpected pocket of volatile gases in the drill site caused an explosion. Riley, knocked off balance, was cast into the vastness of space, his tether cruelly severed. The *Melancholy* dispatched a rescue, but the challenges of space made retrieval hard. By the time they reached him, oxygen had long been depleted from his tanks.

The colony grieved. Over time, life steadily regained normalcy, but for Quinn, everything had shifted. The void left by Riley's departure drove her deeper into her art. She poured her soul into melodies and lyrics, channeling her emotions and bittersweet memories of her short time with Riley into a deeper meaning that could only be expressed in the layers of her art.

In the stillness of her quarters, cradling her guitar, she began, “Fall, fade, near...” Her haunting voice permeated the labyrinthine corridors of the colony—a beacon of hope for a species striving for survival in the unforgiving abyss of space. This enclave of scientists, explorers, artists, and dreamers understood that in the vast cosmic expanse, the human spirit depended not just on science and technology, but also on artistic insight, creativity, and inspiration. Quinn was determined to preserve Riley's memory for posterity, immortalized in song and lyric. He wouldn't be the last to sacrifice his life to the challenges of this inhospitable realm, but Quinn Mari vowed he would never be forgotten. Neither by her nor by the colony. As she strummed the final chord, she stared out into the void.

“I am not free from you,” she whispered.

POEM:

In the canvas of the twilight hours, we paint our hues,
I am finding out something in you,
Like an unsolved riddle or a song that's new,
I am finding out something in me too.

Tethered by an invisible line, can't undo,
Whispers of destiny, silent yet true,
I am not free from you,
In every reflection, in every shadow, you construe.

Twice I saw, twice I knew,
Beyond the facade, beyond the milieu,
I saw, I saw through,
The truth of us, in light's every skew.

Fall, fade, but always near,
Like stars that vanish, yet always appear,
Doubt may surface, sometimes fear,
But our bond remains, ever clear.

I didn't want to run, not without a clue,
Not without understanding, the essence of you,
I didn't want to ride, not without the view,
Of horizons we'd touch, dreams we'd pursue.

To realms unseen, on dreams we flew,
Far from my house, to lands anew,
Between the stars and ice so blue,
We found our purpose, our love grew.

Fall, fade, but always near,
In silence, in laughter, in every tear,
Our story unfolds, year by year,
Bound by something both solemn and sheer.

I am not free from you, like morning's dew,
Holding onto petals, a bond felt true,
Twice I looked, twice I knew,
I saw through, our love's endless constant to something new.