Reminds me of one of George R.R. Martin's incredibly depressing earlier works: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dying_of_the_light http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyin

Reminds me of one of George R.R. Martin's incredibly depressing earlier works: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dying_of_the_light http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dying_of_the_light A rogue, an aimless wanderer, creation’s castaway; this world was all those things. For uncounted centuries it had been falling, alone, without purpose, falling through the cold lonely places between the suns. Generations of stars had succeeded each other in stately sweeps across its barren skies. It belonged to none of them. It was a world in and of itself; entire. In a sense it was not even part of the galaxy; its tumbling path cut through the galactic plane like a nail driven through a round wooden tabletop. It was part of nothing.