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by Siobhan Gallagher 
The stars sang of their loneliness, and Astreya listened.
Her heart melted at their pleas, for they had nothing to fill the void between
them. So Astreya, sister of the stars, daughter of the wind, dipped her hand
into the great pools of galaxies, and collected ice, nitrogen, carbon. She
fashioned from these elements fins and a tail, till finally, she had a fish--a
gorgeous fish that sailed on the solar winds and left sparkling moon dust in
its wake. The stars were pleased with their new companion. And so,
Astreya created a school of fish to fill the many voids. Of course Caovo, the nebulous nuisance, caught news of her
fish, and curious, observed her creating the last of them. He hovered all too
close, sniggering to himself. Unease rippled down Astrya’s spine and into her
wings. Finally, she had to stop and turned a stormy eye upon him. “They’re not for you,” she stated flatly. “You know I would never meddle in your things.” He stretched
tendrils of smoke in all directions, expanding his form. “But there will always
be something that will.” “What do you mean?” “They’re a little too well-crafted, too
beautiful. And you know how beauty never lasts.” Before she had a chance to reply, Caovo had faded into the
abyss. *** Time passed, her fish multiplied and they were a joy all
across the universe. The stars sang songs while the fish swam rhythmically
around them, spreading glittery patterns across the eons. If ever a weary
traveler of the stars lost their way, they could always count on the fish to
lead them back to their homeworld. But Caovo’s words still rang in Astreya’s mind; a constant
ringing that nagged and tore and chewed at her psyche till one day... Space
ships, dark and sleek, started netting the fish. First only a few, but as they
perfected their skills and as demands for the shimmering fish scales grew,
hundreds were being caught every day. The stars ceased to sing, only wept for the loss of their
fishy friends. While Asterya’s own sadness was bitten into frosty anger. How
could they? How dare they! And on cue, Caovo materialized himself from the nothingness
that he was, and howled with such laughter, that it shook worlds. “What did I tell you?” he said. “You should have made them
ugly, then no one would want them.” “There’s enough ugliness in the universe. Why can’t they
just...” She seized a rogue planet, sent it spinning straight into a nova near
the poacher’s ships. Radiation flared out from the impact, and the ships were
left dead in the wake. “Well, that was unexpected.” Although Caovo had no mouth,
his words left the distinct impression of a pout. Unexpected, but good. She could save her fish, every last
one of them; they would never have to suffer again. Under the gust of her wings, cosmic storms brewed, swirling dust,
asteroids and debris. These pseudo-galaxies collided into the dense particles
of neighboring star systems, and the shock waves turned axis, evaporated
atmospheres, ruptured space stations. Millions of star-travelers lost without
communication. The fish had scattered to the far reaches. The stars were
fierce and bright, yet oddly quiet. The torrent of her rage rose, and she rose with it. Even
when the stars sang a soothing tune, like listening to ocean waves, she could
not quell this feeling. Maybe she hated, not just the poachers, but all humans
as well. Of course she couldn’t think clearly with Caovo’s constant
presence. Like a fog he surrounded her, enveloped her, smothered her. She
screamed and fought, her fists coming down on Caovo’s shapeless form-- She hit
hardness. What was this? She raised her fists again, and it was the same. A
barrier. “This isn’t your universe to wreck,” Caovo said. “I would
like something to look at once in a while that isn’t mutilated.” “Let me out!” She pushed, shoved, banged against the
barrier. “With a temper like that? Never.” “It was their fault. They hurt my--” “Oh yes, your pride and joys,” he said sardonically. “If
you’re not willing to allow others to ruin them, don’t create them in the first
place.” “I don’t have to allow anyone anything,” she seethed. Astreya raced all along the barrier, looking for a way out.
The universe inside the barrier shrunk; a pocket of itself. She could not reach
out to the stars, nor hear their song, let alone the shrill cry of despair. Silence was such a cruel companion.
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