The Sound of Extinction

It was that time of the week again.

With her bow in one hand, and a datapad in the other, Thorn perched in a tree and watched the weekly address of Lord Commander Lothar Rendain. The biggest twat in the universe, and as small as the population of the universe had become thanks to the varelsi, the twat/population ratio was as robust as it had ever been.

"Citizens of the last star," boomed Rendain. "Do you hear that sound?"

No.

"That is the sound of the inevitable. It's only a matter of time until the last star is consumed by the void. A frightening prospect I know."

Thorn winced. Frightening. She couldn't ever admit to being frightened in the company of the other Battleborn – not from the varelsi, and not from the Battleborn themselves. But here, right now, under the light of Solus, she was afraid. She'd seen what the varelsi had done to her homeworld. And if they did the same here…

Rendain kept talking. "But you may take some comfort in the fact that I, Lothar Rendain…"

I already know your name you piece of-

"…have ensured that something of this universe will survive."

Thorn leant forward – something surviving? For a lackey of the varelsi, that was very surprising news. Not that terms of surrender was something that the Battleborn would ever discuss openly (apparently it wasn't something "badasses" did), but, if there was a chance of surviving this…

"And you're trying to stop me because that something doesn't include you."

Thorn slumped back in her tree. "Figures," she murmured.

"Your spirit is admirable, but spirit can't save you from what's coming."

Images played across the screen. The varelsi advancing. Their foes falling. The universe dimming. Life dying.

"Nothing can," smirked Rendain. "Not your sharpest blades, which are admittedly pretty cool or whatever…"

I'll be sure to let Phoebe know.

"Not your stockpiles of munitions. Not your …what is this, magic? Not your insane robots, not your talents, or your…your…your butt theatrics!"

Rendain screamed and hit the camera, causing Thorn to giggle. She knew what he was ranting about – Montana, Boldur, and some other chick had made their attempt at "psychological warfare" by beaming images of them waving their posteriors to Rendain's ship in orbit. And apparently it had worked, as the image of the madman was replaced with OOPSY! WE'LL BE RIGHT BACK…

And back Rendain came. "Now then," he said. "Where was I?"

On the whole 'you have no hope thing.'

"Oh yes." He cleared his throat, and dramatic music began playing.

So much for being a live broadcast.

"You are going to die," he declared. "The only choice left to you is how."

Great.

"You can die alone. You can die clinging to your idiot friends."

Thorn winced – friends. She wouldn't call any of the Battleborn "friends." Allies, maybe acquaintances, but "friends?" Nah.

"Or you can die with the rest of the misbegotten filth that cut its way into this misbegotten system. Take your pick, but you will die." Rendain paused for dramatic effect, and the music ended. And Thorn found herself feeling cold. Even as the light of Solus beat down on her and the forest she resided in.

"And so," Rendain said. "Back to that sound."

Thorn watched him turn away from the camera and look out into the void of space. She could see Solus, the planets of its star system, and even some stars. Even if the stars had long been extinguished, their light continued to travel.

"That is the last choking gasp of a dying cosmos doomed to the dark. That is the sound of the end."

And the screen went black. Like the void of space. The only words at the bottom asking her if she wanted to sign up for cable.

Thorn switched the TV off and looked up at the sky. Through the branches and leaves, to the clouds. To Solus. The last light of a dying cosmos. A dead cosmos, all things considered. Because Rendain hadn't been lying about that. The universe was dead. And while she would fight to the end, with the lack of any better options, she had little inclination to believe that this world could be saved.

Do you hear that sound?

Thorn clutched her bow.

That is the sound of the inevitable.

She got to her feet.

That is the sound of the end.

And jumped down to the forest floor. Remembering Rendain's words. Remembering her homeworld. Remembering what was at stake in the coming battle.

"Keep talking old man," she murmured. "There's no sound in space anyway."