Simon Bisson (sbisson) wrote,
Simon Bisson
sbisson

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Scene from an unwritten space opera

The roiling plasmas of the photosphere hid our ship from the Endtimer's. We weren't ready for this, fighting a guerilla war in the hot, hot fringes of a dying star. One miscalculation, one misstep and we would be lost.

Both our ship and the Endtimer were bundles of nano wrapped in miles-thick balls of ice, artificial comets tethered to the coolness of space by the radiant cord of laser beams. Refrigerated by lines of light, we danced a dance of death in the heat of the sun. Our lifelines were our chief weapons, venting our heat into the sun's - while aiming to overwhelm our enemy's cooling systems. Sailing the contorted magnetic fields around a sun spot the size of a world, we rose and fell, bobbing up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of the Endtimer vessel in the angry gases that surrounded us both.

It was a deadly game of hide and seek, a game where position mattered more than anything.

A matter of weeks ago we'd been nothing more than a scientific expedition. Then our transcendent Superbright friends had asked us to examine something for them. We'd come in from the coolness of the outer system, chasing what they described as a transient event, a hole in space time. We'd thought it was only another anomaly, a wonder in a galaxy full of wonders, a puzzle for their endless explorations.

We were wrong, and now we were fighting for our lives.

[A semi-dream I've been having for the last few weeks, as I drop off to sleep. It's a picture of silver globes in the hot fringes of a red-giant star, ducking and diving as they try to find just the right place to meet - or to gain advantage in a long slow battle. I have a feeling it follows on from a piece I posted a while back, but it gives me an opportunity to put a human viewpoint into a story that's about a war between gods for the future of the universe.]
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