The light stemming from the heart of the golden sun of Orien pours like honey though the room’s only window and mingles with the dust particles slowly twisting around in unpredictable patterns. There are some larger specks that almost seem to levitate in the low gravity. The slow moving air currents are unable to sway them and resolved to just spinning smaller mites around their bulk.
Then, suddenly, a thin cloud of dust forms around the large clumps and starts to navigate towards the surrounding particles. They start moving around wildly, as if trying to escape their inevitable doom - their background is now a nebula, stars and Orien’s sun frozen light.
The smaller mites are tightly packed groups of frigates, circling a large carrier vessel that launched its point defense fighters - one by one the small points turn into silent, tragic little balls of flame. The carrier seems to be overcoming the situation but just barely, its fighter squadrons are being tackled by the light craft and slowly burned down.
A missile the size of a small ship hits the carrier in the side. The nanites rush to their job, but the repair systems are lagging behind the damage. Another missile hits with a tremendous bang and I feel the view coming into focus. I realize I know that carrier, its rusty shape is extremely familiar to me. Sirens are blaring and the central console is flashing red from all its displays - I’m still reeling and a slight rush of nausea sends a shiver down my spine.