Mysteries of an ancient black hole and what purpose it might serve
In the Beginning...
The Black Hole wasn't particularly unique. In fact, as black holes went, it was bland. Old. Almost dead. The only quality perfect for their needs was location. Distant. Not even a blip on Thy'n space. Barely a trace of the massive bodies that had orbited the long ago obliterated star. Faint traces of cosmic debris had been the only hint to observant desperate beings. Thy'n, one of the many races that once made up the Galactic Council, had made the discovery. Those that remained voted.
The silver craft blinked into empty space. The low light of the bridge coupled with the vast void before him, had a profound effect. Alone. So utterly alone. The craft, capable of housing hundreds of crew members, held two, and only one was conscious. A soft purple haze filled his forward screen before Garr could fully appreciate his situation. Engine exhaust? Had the ship moved? Puzzled, he checked his instruments, no. The vessel hadn't, but the particles of his immissions had. Something was pulling at them. XVR-000. It was hungry.
Not for long
The ship moved in the direction of the particles, increasing power. Adding a new element to the mix. A thin string of purple-yellow stretched, then touched, and instantly spun around the rim of the event horizon. Where once there was darkness- there was light. A dazzling purple, yellow, and gold vortex spiraling towards the starving maw at its center. Black, no blacker, than the starless canopy of his creation. Beautiful, deadly, hopefully inescapable.
Would Thy'n see? Would his family know? No. For Time and light at least, the distance would be too great. Home. Did it exist? Or would it exist? He wasn't sure he understood the science he was about to enact. Nor did he want to in case something went wrong.
The moment of decision.
Maneuvering thrusters propelled the craft forward.
The ship, precariously near the lip of the event horizon, rotated; a flicker of doubt mixed with wonder.
Would Time cease?
Would I cease?
Does it matter?
Furred paw over the display, hesitation. The maw awake, pulling on the ship; if he didn't act- the commands entered, the ship elongated, pushing the rear portion in and over the cusp, past the event horizon. The bridge remained at the lip, the rest.... The reading showing the status of the vessel was alarming. The structural integrity, if correct, would signal failure. He knew the risks. Better they fail here, where it couldn't escape. Death though not preferred, would be acceptable. He closed his eyes, expecting- but he still was? An alarm blared, forcing his eyes open. Reading the display, he growled. That couldn't be right? The volume of the ship had changed. He switched his viewer to aft; a gasp escaped his mussel. Once, the rest of his vessel, now a line of infinite silver, stretched toward the maw. Alarms are/were sounding. Algorthym's activate/finish. The pod is/was in position. Time lost meaning. He activated/had activated the destruct sequence.
For them. For existence.
Falling. A purple flicker in the heart of a sun, a blue flash...
Location unknown flashed on his screen. Information. Overwhelming- came pouring in from external sensors.
The birth of a solar system. Chaotic. Beautiful.
Articulate furred paws dance across a holographic display, "No, this can't be right."
"Yessss," An unseen hiss answers.
"The distance is...." Garr, desperately trying to regain some control, to understand what he sees streaming across the transparent display.
"Irrelevant," the voice came again.
"Time is an illusion. Distance is an illusion." The whisper was not from the bridge or any com; it came from within.
Planets form and collide, his tiny spec of a ship tossed in a maelstrom of impossible activity that his sensors understood? "No, this makes...," He stops himself.
Sense, his mind finishes a thought already outdated.
It all made sense.
New coordinates hastily entered.
"You won't escape." The whisper taunted him.
The new planet, molten, forming. The ship headed directly for it. The source.
"Escape was never my intent."
"How?" It was the disembodied whisper's turn to be surprised.
"As you said, Time and distance are an illusion. So are we." The ship entered what little atmosphere existed and dove toward the source.
Turbulence. Green/Blue/Red, contact.
Word Count: 718