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It was beautiful, in its own way.

They said that if someone spent too long out here they could lose themselves. Alone in the void of the Omicrons; Sarah McFarlen found no reason to doubt them. Asteroids drifted by, caressing the shields of her Greyhound, welcoming fingers of the darkness. The systems sun, dulled by billions of particles, may as well have been a nightlight. Flying here had to be done by feel, or experience.

It was impossible to say for how long the girl had drifted from one rocky outcrop to another. In all honesty it didn'€™t matter to the Rogue; not that such petty distinctions had any bearing out here. Had it been years since she entered the jump hole, or mere hours? Regardless. She would know when the time was right.

Figures swam at the edge of vision, a few defiant specks of blue standing alone against the sea of intruders. Flashes briefly illuminated the darkness; missiles and beams meeting in a flurry of energy. Deadly spots of light. What a strange idea. That a simple flash could end your life.

Then she was there, and no longer was it someone else'€™s body buckling, someone else'€™s lungs coughing their final breaths, someone else'€™s hull crumpling. Still they came, in their not-people, weapons tearing through flesh like butter. There was nothing that could be done. Sarah McFarlen watched; half in awe, half horror, as the lone fighter; comrades falling around him, accelerated toward their home.

They scrambled around him, frantic insects swarming to protect their hive, their family. It was all for naught. There was one more flash, one more incandescent pin prick in the dark.
Then they were gone; leaving nothing but night and the whispers of ghosts.

They said that if you spent too long out here you could lose yourself.