Echoes in the Belt
In the cold hush of the belt,
a lone barge hums,
its lasers carving arcs of light
through ancient stone.

Each crack of ore sings profit,
each cycle—a rhythm of survival.
Silhouetted against stars
too distant to care,
you watch the hold fill
and dream of markets,
modules,
and maybe a fight not worth running from.

Behind you,
the void watches silently—
until it doesn’t.