The rules will be the first thing to go

On August 26th, 2023, at half past midnight, the drifting timeship Eternity lost all power to
engines and life support. The Eternity was hundreds of thousands of miles from Earth, ten years
into a thirty year voyage, and there was seemingly no hope for the two hundred people living
aboard the vessel. The first blood had already been spilled.

Kyle Altland, the head of security aboard the Eternity, quietly proceeded through the hallways of
Deck 3A. The rules had gone this morning, during breakfast. A high ranking officer had been
beaten to death by a mob, and there was a civilian dead as well. Martial law was being enforced.
No one was to be outside their quarters, except for high ranking personnel. Even in the empty
halls Kyle imagined he could hear the echoes of traitorous whispers, plans in the making to
overthrow the Commodore and take control of the ship.

Hey, Kyle. He heard from behind. Turning, Kyle saw the individual in question heading
towards him. Commodore Russell was an older man, the gray beginning to obscure the brown in
his long hair. Looking at his calm demeanor, though, the stresses bearing down on the
Commodore seemed barely noticeable. Even with everything that happened, Russell had kept his
cool. Kyle respected him for that.

es, sir? He responded, standing at attention. Russell looked around carefully before waving
for him to follow.

Its already started, you know. The Commodore said, as they turned the corner into the control
wing. Weapons have gone missing from the armory. We expect an attack on the forecastle any
time now.

Kyle felt his his heart drop into his chest. Oh, god.

I didn't know it was that bad yet. he said weakly. I thought we would have more time before
everything fell apart.

Captain Russell smiled grimly, the lines around his face aging him a hundred years in a second.
That how it always goes. The only thing that holds people together is hope for the future.
Were going to run out of air within the week. He chuckled harshly. Civilization. We were
supposed to be the best two hundred people on Earth, and were all going to kill each other.

The door slid open for the engine room, and they entered without fanfare. Only a lone technician
stood tapping away on the central computer, until Russell placed a hand on his shoulder and told
him to return to his quarters. Kyle stood next to the Commodore, looking down at the cubic
device that controlled the course of their lives. Russell started clicking away at the keys, his
fingers moving so fast that they appeared a blur. A blinking question mark appeared on the
screen, asking for final verification.

You go first. He said, standing back. Kyle breathed in and out, stepping forward on shaky
knees. He knew what he had to do, and yet it seems so impossible now that the time had come.
All he could think about was his wife and child two decks above, tucked away safely behind a
locked door. This was what had to happen. This was the worst case scenario.

When the Eternity was built, the engineers added a FUBAR lock into the central computer. In the
case that the situation could not be salvaged, in the case that their voyage was a failure, it was the
duty of the Commodore and the chief of security to destroy the ship. Kyle knew this was for the
best. If more riots broke out, people would be torn apart. They would die slowly, alone, bleeding
out in gore-stained hallways. Orphaned children would stand over the bodies of their fallen
parents. No. This was for the best.

Kyle typed in his code, and clicked enter. He stepped back.

Commodore Russell stepped forward, rested his fingers on the keys for a long second, and then
entered his code. He clicked enter with the edge of his pinky, almost as an afterthought.

Russell sighed deeply and stepped back.

You should go say goodbye to your family. He suggested, sliding his hands into his jacket
pockets. Im going to lock myself in my cabin with a bottle of scotch.

It's been an honor serving with you, sir. Kyle said, a profound feeling of acceptance growing in
the pit of his stomach. There was a twenty minute timer for the self-destruct. It could not be
reverted. It could not be taken back. How horrible would it be if we changed our minds now?

The two men left the engine room, walking away in opposite directions. The lost souls of the
Eternity continued their journey through the void, most of them blissfully unaware of the coming
end.