Just to prove I can write something other than Sorrel, I'm going to present a short story over the next weeks. This one is hard science fiction, as opposed to the steampunk/fantasy that is Sorrel's universe.
So with no further ado, I present...
The singleship was dying slowly around Anton. He tried to shut out the ship's keening wail from his ears, and pulled his helmet into place. He checked his suit seals again; Emerald was trying to maintain her internal atmosphere to the end, but he could no longer depend on her. He gazed hopelessly out of the clouded viewport at the silent, nearly motionless hailstorm around the ship. The rings were beautiful, and he and his poisoned ship were in their midst. Chunks of ice the size of office blocks spun in slow, stately majesty, the occasional collision spreading fragments of silver hail in increasing arcs. Between the largest boulders Anton could see the fragile loveliness of Svenskites spinning as they drank in the thin sunlight, turning slowly in unison to focus on the distant star. The crop here should have made him rich. He seethed, and gazed across the ring through the poisoned wonderland towards the other singleship as it turned its wings again to draw in the lifeforms. Even if he expended all his air to push him towards the pirate, he would not get there before his power expired, and he froze.
As always, comments welcomed!