A dying sun

David watched the model of the sun as it burned, an accelerated depiction of its predicted history, which showed the flaming ball shrinking and changing colors as the heat grew hotter, until eventually it burned itself out. "These holograms are getting better and better," he said to himself. "I could swear that I could actually feel the heat coming off of that one."

He switched the projector off, the machine making no sound as it did so, and turned in his chair to face out the window. The end of the sun that he had witnessed in the hologram was a millennia away, but the changing of colors had long since begun. It hung in the blackness of space, an incredibly bright blue orb, tinting everything they saw with that color. David was lucky to be able to say that was his favorite color. Others were not as much.

"Even though I know I won't live to see the day," he muttered, "I still fear for the day the sun burns out. There will surely still be people alive, and there will further surely still be those who live under this sun's rays, choosing to ignore the warnings we have provided them. Those days will be dark, and painted in purple, and still they will continue on. How many people will perish in those days, clinging to their beliefs that we were wrong?" He sighed and rubbed his face, then pulled the skin colored glove off, revealing the metallic workings underneath.

He had had to get the prosthetic nearly a decade prior, after getting into a fight over the ownership of the ship he now resided upon. He had underestimated his opponent's ruthlessness at first, but not after his hand had been severed by the man's makeshift beam knife. David won, though, but it had taken quite a while to get the new hand installed.

The prosthetic itself was made of titanium, and despite the large number of moving parts and working engine, it was cold to the touch. That was the main reason he wore the glove. It was specially designed to feel like human skin, and was heated, to mask the bitter coldness of the metal underneath.  It also disturbed people less, which was surprising considering the number of people who had to get such replacements, but such prejudices still existed, and though David did not often run into people these days, it was still nice not to scare them at first glance.

He turned back towards his desk and pulled up the screen through which he observed his ship's course and maintenance. All was as it should be, to no surprise, but he generally liked to keep an eye on things, just to be safe. He would rather consistently see the same okay screens over and over, then see an error too late for it to be corrected.

"Someday we'll find a new home," he told himself. "One that is safe from the dangers of our old sun, and where humanity can begin to rebuild. Until then, I'll just have to keep searching, lone wolf. I swore not to take a family until I knew they would have a future after all." He kicked back in his chair and pushed the screen aside. He had a sweetheart back home waiting for him.

He wouldn't disappoint her.