It's quite lonesome out here, scattered far out in the galaxy without my companion Erithrea, the bright mininova. My light is dimming. It twinkles less and less, if you could call a huge fearsome glowing mass burning itself up through centuries, twinkling.
Things were alright for the first millenia or so. Stardom was looking good - prospects of life on a few planets were promising and some nitrogen-breathing primitive life forms were already thriving on Planet Tuvr. Erithrea and I laughed about reaching the pinnacle of superStardom, the legendary Sun, who had 2-legged creatures building temples and sacrificing some of their own kind for Him. I always thought that was stupid. Not like that egomaniac needed any more convincing that He was the greatest star of all time.
About 700 centuries in, Planet Greqq atmosphere's was created, and life sprung up in abundance. The sheer diversity - and their fragility - was gastaking. I basked in the cool feeling of having something dependent on my rays for their survival, and I nurtured that Planet like it was my own moon.
There is something you need to understand, mortal. We stars do not think or behave as you do. You, you get tired, need rest. We do not know either tiredness or rest. We are as we are, immutable; not weak, but never having known weakness, not strong either. We are not fickle, and we can keep doing the same task - warming the galaxy - for as long as our core is solid and keeps us burning. We do not deny it is a selfish task that happens to bring some good to others. We do not need morals to justify our existence. Indeed, the creation of morals by living creatures whose very existence is a mere accident is almost amusing. I would find it so if I had a sense of humour. And yet, through observing minute behaviorisms even a star can learn the ways of lifeforms.
Now, now it is all gone. Tuvr is ashes and black hole vortex; Greqq expired in ice a thousand years ago but only after a long, long age of war and chaos that descended upon them like doomed meteors. I felt it was best to let go, turn my cold side and withhold my warmth to them that they may meet their end. I still believe it was best.
Erithrea didn't think so. She whirled and shot sparks, told me I could not forsake my duty, do as these lifers may. That it was their choice, and who could judge them, much less a star that felt no pain? That was just it though. They had no choice anymore. The dark sucked them in, and they were only grappling with nightmares and had lost all sense of reality.
So I did it, I broke my own code and that of my kin to save them - by destroying them all equally. I know I did right - I heard sighs of relief from Greqq just before it extinguished. Its people, though - their screams still torment me. I often wonder, how could I hear them in space? It does not matter. Imagination is just as strong.
I was expelled for being a dark star. Now I lay here, in the furthest outposts of space, where not even black holes exist and there is nothing, not even darkness, nor light, nor love. And here I will stay till I burn out, shrivel. That is my punishment for meddling in the affairs of life. But I had a choice and I made it, and I will burn to my last inch knowing why.
