Prologue of the End

In the beginning of the interstellar age, Earth Scientists predicted that the energy of the stars would last a billion billion years.  They were wrong.  In a mere million years, most of the hydrogen had been expended, and one by one, the stars grew dim.  We, the sentient beings of the galactic nations, did not realize the grim state of the stars until a hundred millennium more had past.  One might wonder why the large discrepancy between the event and discovery. Cassini, a bionic astronomer, discovered the disappearance.  He reasoned that the large discrepancy was due to the nature of light and time.

At the time of this discovery, Earth’s sun was a mere echo of the galactic heartbeat.  Using fusion drives, the denizens of Earth had left their dying star and moved onward and outward to seemingly better worlds. But even as the worlds were colonized, the stars they orbited were failing.  

Enter the Star Machines. Using the black hole principle, the machine “ate” worlds and manufactured vast amounts of hydrogen.  Then, they transported this raw material to star nurseries.  Thus man now was creator of stars.

This, to the fundamentalists, was the ultimate blaspheme against the one true God.  Only He had the right to creation.  If it was His will that we go into Darkness, then who was man to say otherwise?  Thus the Righteous wars began, and man proved yet again that he was the Destroyer.  Thousands of newborn stars were attacked and destroyed.  With it, trillions of life forms passed into the abyss.

And now, here I stand, on the planet UB18 orbiting the Red Giant, Omega 5.  Of all the stars in existence, it is the last.  There are no faint twinklings on which to wish for a better future.  For those that remain, when this star collapses, it will be the end of light.  

As for me, as long as this rock remains, I will go on existing.  My sole purpose is to witness – to remember- to remind those left behind of the joys and faults of human kind.  I am neither entirely alive nor nonliving. I cannot die.  For I have the heart of a star, though I may look like an ordinary sentient woman.

During the height of the star creation, a whole nation of my kind was developed.  Only we could withstand the intense pressure and heat needed to start the star generators and manufacture the hydrogen.

But like every other life form in this universe, we are in our decline.  In this last outpost, I can only collect and assemble the knowledge that remains of a once great existence.  Each nanobyte of data is but a memory, one that I would gladly reminisce with any that seeks me out.  

And who would seek me out?  There was a time, after the dark days of the Destruction, when my fellow star children and I would travel world to world as bringers of Knowledge and Light.  We would bring the people, lost after hundreds of years of isolation, salvation.  We gave them the technology to escape their dying stars, and eventually, that lucky remnant of human kind was shepherded here.

What a tragic few remained. After a time, the colony on this world became suspicious of us.  Their lives had again grown incredibly short, yet we did not die.  They despised the fact that we had knowledge that they did not. They were in a downward spiral of suspicion, religion, and absoluteness.   Because we knew that eventually mankind would cycle back to enlightenment and seek us once more, we agreed to go our separate ways.

 But now it seems that we have been forgotten.  Thus I sit staring at the twin moons of this planet, waiting, hoping that mankind will welcome their past and embrace the vast knowledge I have stored for them.  In the past there may yet lay a solution for the future.  If nothing is done, then darkness will soon be absolute.

Although I am not bionic in nature, I still count the hour and hours and every second goes by the same as every other second. To endure this long wait, most of my kind have become stature-like , ever sleeping.  I refuse to become thus; I refuse to give up hope .  My purpose will be fulfilled before Omega’s passing. 

 They will come. Like draws like and though we are different, we are the same.  All elements of life were birthed in a star’s death.  In essence we are all made of the stuff of stars.

Thus, I wait for a seeker, for the one who will deliver us from the darkness.

2 responses to “Omega

  1. I’ve never really contemplated this ‘lights out’ concept. This would make an excellent book.

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