North Calaveras
01-09-2008, 04:39
In the depth's of space, there was movement. A white egg of past times that had been discarded in the midst of battle. It's cargo was precious and fragile. It's power source depleted and scratched from energy weapons. The inside of the pod was crusted with ice, the vacume of space had provided. The life that was once inside was frozen, as it's ancestors had been. It's path to evolution still being fullfilled. For years it has floated through the stars, searching for warmth. It needed a home, a shell to embrace. This so called cargo had taken the life of a people and much...much more. Every now and then ships could be seen from a glint of sunlight. They never noticed the small pod, or its cargo. Maybe someday, or a thousand years from now it would be found and brought forth to the universe once more. It didn't care about time...time wasn't important to it. Survival was its ultimate goal, to survive and reproduce, the same function over and over......and over again. For those who would open Pandoras Box saw the face of horror.