A Viking Panda

Some say that space is empty. Those who do have never beheld the haunting beauty of a pulsar, never witnessed the awesome spectacle of a supernova, and never gazed in awe at a binary star. This is our home, space, no longer the final frontier but a living, breathing entity. Industry, her appetite. Commerce, her veins. Warfare, her beating heart. We are but microorganisms on a cosmic scale, individually insignificant, forming complex chains of society to affect our host. Some deadly, some benevolent, all required for life.

Upon this galactic stage we perform, each actor reciting his lines to an audience of eternity. Doomed to the knowledge that time is fleeting and our contributions will similarly fall to ruin in the relentless march of the cosmos. Each attempting to make his mark upon the infinity of the stars before time inevitably catches up with us...