Flames of the Rogue Planet

Within the hydrogen rich atmospheres of rogue planets live creatures of acid and liquid fire. Brutal intelligences for inhospitable worlds. There is no night, no day, no year. They live indifferent to time. Innoculated to all except dreams. What lies beyond the omnipresent cloud?

Their first ships are ramshackle, their first forays failures. Beasts of flame have little notion of space's absolute zero.

But they learn.

And in vessels constructed of scarabic chitin, leaking pools of pus, toxic gasses. They escape their hellish world. For the first time in a long history of listlessness, they discover the stars.

Their voyage is slow, the distance great. No issue to creatures born, then reborn, through ceaseless combustion. Beasts unacquainted with time.  Eventually they find a star. Around it orbit eight planets, a belt of asteroids, planetoids. One planet draped in striking blues and greens.

What drew them to this world? One with atmosphere, and life, and temperament so unlike their own. With solid bodies instead of combusting forms. Perhaps it was pure chance, a thirst for the unknown. Perhaps, just as we gaze at the stars and wonder what breathes beyond their veil, they too wondered at our naked world. Our oceans. Our alien life.

And so, much to the consternation of us simians that mark the surface, they descend. Ships wreathed in flame, arms opened in deadly greeting. How unprepared we were for these creatures. Our answer to 'are we alone in the universe?' Their insectile crafts scream across the sky.

How easily these souls of constant fission envelop our defenses. Our warning missiles mere greetings. They oblige by responding in kind. And as they roar, Earth burns. Here was a language they recognize. And as Man weeps, as we fade, they rejoice. Here are voices they understand.

And so creatures of fire arc through blistering air over a planet of ash. Our cries give way to disquieting silence. Our greens and blues burn to umber. And after a time unbeknownst to these beasts who exist beyond, the flames spiral back to their ships. They depart the idle, voiceless Earth. A dying ember orbiting the boiling Sun.

So continues their long journey, rogue ships far afield their rogue planet. Traveling through the black, called by other voices back across the stars.