The Death of a Star

Lillium's Journal

15th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

I just landed on an ancient orbiter by the name Europa, to witness one of the most historic events in my lifetime. Even between hyper jumps I am so exited to see this historical event. My body cries from gravitation drag, but my spirit lives on. I was asked to hibernate for a while, but you know how supper excited I am.

I had read about this giant star from my history lessons, and how an ancient religious entity by the name of Stephen Einstein had predicted the end. Their theories have been long proven wrong, and I just can't believe how dumb witted  people are to believe in some stupid theory as theirs. Any way, continuing with my journal, I have the most priced seat, and the grand collapse is underway. Its similar to the one back during the dis-integration of Terra. It was a beautiful scene back then, the planet breaking away piece by piece as it was sucked straight into the red giant. Thanks to the hypervisors though, else I would have missed everything back then.

16th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

Yesterday was a disappointing day, I did see the red giant grow bigger, splashing of its gravitational energy, but you know how slow these things are. I hope to see it turn to a dwarf at-least today.

Since I don't have any more stuff to write about today as the Red Giant just refuses to disintegrate, I will just write about the history of this red giant.
This red giant is called the VT139. It was called as Sun by the pre-historic species known as Homo Sapiens. VT139 had enough energy to fuel an entire planets need, unlike us who require three stars to fuel our energy needs. VT139 was a Nano planetary system, with its third planet having the highest probability of survival. Homo sapiens predominantly lived on Terra, the third planet, before shifting out into other star systems. ( I know, I am a big nerd ). Any way, thats all the history lesson for today, I am off to hibernate. The gravitational drag is finally acting up on me.

17th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The same spot, and the same scene of a slow death. The giant seems to be emitting bursts of radiation. It is a beautiful sight, multi colored rays of protons shooting from the red giant. My com is active with data, many of which are statuses from others in the arena.

And finally after a long wait the Carbon collapse has started. The last of the helium atoms are compressing down into carbon. There was panic in the crowd as the gravitation pull of the Red Giant started to de-stabilise. Electro-magnetice flares could be seen every where on the surface of Europa.
I just hope the gravitational collapse doesn't hamper my pods. The TRS has already placed loop jumpers to puncture the Singularity-State for yet another hyper jump bridge. The time window is really small, but these guys are pros. My brother was on one of these missions once. He was more of a feed compressor though, but he did super magnificently explain how the hyper jump bridge forms within one millionth of a second.

The broadcast was the last thing I was hoping for. Thats all for today the TRS say. It seems they are trying to put up a EM field shield around the Singularity-Point. Its night for me I guess. Another day, another adventure.

18th Vulcan, 542, 7.95 Eon.

The coms have all gone active. VT139 is on its final collapse, and one of the most beautiful of those. The Singularity-Crush. I had seen photon-graphs of those, but this is the first time I would be seeing one up so close. A single burst of the last escaping ray of light as the entire mass just becomes a big dark hole.

Night Train to Velli

Amid the tight glances, I stood,
Steadfast, a word less searched for,
By the foot hold of the last wagon,
Of the Queen as she chugged through.

Black clouds rose in the night sky,
Moon and stars blanketed by her gurgling smog,
Each cloud a plumage of the night bird, fluffy coal candies.

The ride was long, I was told,
I ignored, rather enjoyed the rumble,
The tics and taks on the metal rail,
As the wheels echoed on, into the darkness.

An amber shone bright in the distance,
And the Queen started the long screech,
Pungent whiff of her diesel fog,  her engines coma-ed.

My fears grew roots, As the queen halted,
The amber turned to red, gale birthed a gentle breeze,
The smell of screeching metal fumed the night air,
The Queen had stoped her righteous stride.

I alighted the royal gait, stepping into the cold sand,
The red turned to green, but miles away was I,
My legs, my chariots, fear my fuel.

The Queen started her slow chug, the royal march,
The faint echo of her wail, annoyance it did speak,
I heard her slow rumble, as she regained her posture,
But miles away I was from her, moon my witness.

My captors turned red in her bosom, as she chugged,
Their sleep played the Judas in the grand scheme,
I felt the cold sand beneath my feet, freedom I guess.

I do feel pity for the gallows waiting for me,
The lonely little hoops, but what is mercy to me,
As I ran to the freedom, and the Queen conquered new shores. 

Nightingale's Wail

The curtains fall, an applause follows,

Her flamboyance seconded by the moon.

The lights dim, her pride wallows.

Countless are her adeptes assidus.

Men flock, boys swoon, at  the tender voice,

Yet guarded she stands, her hands perched high.

The night is young, she says,  a perfect choice,

She picks the one with the shiniest bag.

The crack of the dawn, sets the stage,

She clears her throat, smiles, shies away.

Her smile hides the infuriating rage.

As the night fades, the morning bird sings,

She collects her toils of the night.

Gathering the little garbs off her wings.

She flies home, walking the walk of shame

At length, home, and the comfort of her mirror.

Her beauty faded than the day before.

She clears her throat once again.

A crackled voice, of a girl in pain.

The wail of a lost nightingale.

City of the Sleepless

The sun sang the lullaby, 

As it bid farewell to the earth,

What a waste, what a waste.

The nightlings waited, 

As children for parents to leave,

With darkness, merrymaking. 

The moon stepped the lights,

Ambient white light, you may call,

The night was alive, revelry every where.

The night grew intense, cold wind swept,

And with the raising chill,

Merry making reached the peak. 

Old and young alike, wandered the streets, 

Matching their steps, a drunken dance,

To the low hum of the night wind.

At length the star of the night arrived,

Clad in the frozen coat, 

The mystery man, Sleep they call.

And each being, young and old,

Matched the steps to the cold,

As Sleep danced, to the trumpet ball.

Soon in the dead of the night, 

The party reached the end, 

And as the first rays of sun hit,

The day woke, blissful to the night.