My name is Sam Jones, and I am a human. Perhaps the last human. I certainly haven’t seen another one in a very long time. For a long time, I had thought myself to also be immortal. This has proven to not be the case, however, and on that fact I find myself conflicted.

Over the thousands of years that I have been bonded to my partnership, Starlight, I have seen and done many things. I have seen death and carnage enough to fill the nightmares of civilizations. I’ve also seen the births of stars in their stellar nurseries. I have seen the awesome power of a supernova. I have seen the naked singularity at the heart of a black hole.

I was responsible for wiping out the V’lrrr race. I’ve also been responsible for saving civilizations from sure extinction. I became both the scourge of the galaxy, the “boogey man” used to frighten children and the savior of all life, the first ship leading the charge when the dimensional rifts opened up and hell came pouring out.

I have gathered many names for myself as well; some call me Starkiller. I’ve also been named the First Captain, the Peacemaker, the Voidranger, the Quick Silence, Endling. My partnership calls me The Soulbonded. These names capture aspects of my legend, but they don’t quite cover the entirety of me. At the core, I am simply a man, child of woman, son of man.

I, like any being, have lived with regret. I have known the touch of a woman, but I never took a mate. Never fathered children. What woman’s love could ever compare to the bond I have with Starlight? She instinctively understands me, a result of our psionic bond. For eons she was my closest companion, sharing thoughts and life force between us. Now she is all but silent. Age has come to us both.

I often wonder if I removed myself too far from humanity. After all, my unique bond means that I’m not altogether completely human anymore. Still, perhaps I should have been more. I think about these things a lot these days as I stride the decks of the ship. Perhaps that is what has lead me to embrace the old human customs and rituals more often these days.

Perhaps that’s why I’m conducting this most ancient human custom: the Last Words. Maybe it’s just fear of death. Fear of not leaving a legacy behind, something to be remembered for. I’m any case, my last words are these:

We are all made from the elemental dust of a starbirth. The elements were formed in the hearts of stars, then scattered on the winds of the universe at their death, which also creates the birth of a new star. So, in a way, we all are Starchildren. We all are progeny of the universe. This should bind us together, not divide us.

As I lay on my deathbed, the mind of my ship having gone silent, life support fading, I hope this log makes it to the tympanic organs of some creature who needs to hear it.

Sam Jones, human of Sol III, signing off.