The stars once told us stories. Our history and our beliefs were written in the constellations. We watched with awe as new ones appeared brighter than any other only to fade over weeks. And eventually we learned that not every spec of dazzling brilliance even was a star. Some were galaxies teeming with life all their own, and others were planets just listing along in their orbits.

They beckoned us. We yearned to fly high enough to escape our world of trouble and despair. Perhaps naively, we dreamed that the places waiting for us above were better than those we left below. We were wrong.

Where we imagined grand empires and sprawling ecumenopolies we found only traces. Great works of engineering that surrounded stars and housed capital ships abandoned as if their makers simply disappeared. They left their mark on the galaxy and then themselves vanished, stumping even our greatest minds. It wasn’t until first contact that we understood.

It was as if the universe itself were guiding us. Planet after planet in system after system we found the life we’d always questioned. But the very problems we wished to escape plagued our newfound friends. Wars ravaged entire systems, famine devastated others. People we’d only just begun to meet were under threat of extinction from disease. Hope for a more enlightened galaxy seemed lost.

In true Human fashion though, the facts did nothing to discourage us. Where the denizens of these worlds had given up, we refused. With a few likeminded planets, we set off to create that dream.

Fleets of science ships descended on plague-ridden worlds. Their sole purpose: to end the sickness that threatened their people. Transports of artificial food were dropped from orbit as engineers and ecologists aided in the construction of sustainable food production. Even diplomats and doctors stepped up to broker peace and aid the casualties.

Word of our efforts spread like wildfire. Even as progress slowed more and more planets joined our cause. Within a decade our coalition was a dozen strong. Humans working alongside Retisans, Artuyi, and many more to make our galaxy a better place.

I wish that I could say things are perfect. I wish that I could say there are no wars or that disease is a thing of the past. The truth is that there will always be challenges, what matters isn’t perfection but it’s pursuit.

Mission Control: Extrasolar Exploration Agency

Radio: "Infinity, this is Mission Control. Do you read?"

Director Benson explains to the honored guest, "They're due back about this time, so we've been calling every hour just to make sure they know we're still here, and nothing too weird has happened."

"You're joking!" The Prime Minister of Tonga is shocked at the suggestion.

"Not at all. There was a very low probability that the drive would put them into an alternative universe. Or worse, from our perspective, the time contraction would result in them arriving back a thousand years later or earlier! I'll grant you, the probabilities were practically zero, but they did exist in a mathematical sense."

Much calmer now, the Prime Minister continues. "I see. And how do we know that none of those mathematically zero options have happened?"

"Cherenvok radiation. We've seen the receding cone of radiation that their FTL passage creates. They're here, but their sublight drive will take time to bring them into our range of their transmitters."

Radio: "Infinity, this is Mission Control. Do you read?"

Radio: "Mission Control, this is Infinity. We read you."

"Director Benson? He sounds... sad. Very sad."

"Yes, he does. Please, Prime Minister, do not speak of this until we make an official notice."

"Agreed. Director? If there is anything that Tonga can do for your project or whatever issue Infinity has discovered, please bring it to my personal attention."

Surprised, Directory Benson responds, "Certainly, and I thank you. Support for interstellar exploration has dropped off. We had hoped for exciting news from Infinity, but now... Honestly, to me, he sounds like a man facing execution."

ESS Infinity And Beyond

"I have no idea how they're going to take this, but I can't expect it to be good for the program."

"I understand, Sir. Still, we have proof that there is life beyond our own."

"Yes, we do. Life that is in such desperate need that none of them have a pot to piss in when it comes to anything but survival. There's no chance for trade, and we are so far ahead of all of them in the sciences that there's no chance for the exchange of knowledge. The best we can hope for is resources, but they have no materials that we do not have."

"True. But it's even worse. They have not surveyed their systems; we would have to expend a great deal of time and effort to gather the information necessary to determine what resources they have. It will be far less expensive and difficult for us to explore our own system or find uninhabited systems to exploit."

"It'll be the end of the extrasolar program. I'm terribly sorry, Captain. I know how much this program means to you. To all of us. There must be something we can do!"

"Well, Doctor, if you have an idea, I would be delighted to hear about it."

Tongan Prime Minister's Office

Mr. Prime Minister,

You were kind enough to offer your aid. I do not know what you could possibly do to relieve this situation, but if you have any ideas, I would greatly appreciate hearing them. This brief will be released within the next 48 hours. I cannot delay it longer than that and may have to release it sooner.

In Great Hope, But Little Expectation,

Director G. Benson

Extrasolar Exploration Agency News Brief

Proof Copy

Not For Distribution

...

With the greatest of sadness, we inform you that although the rumors of life in the universe other than our own are true, life is in such dire straights that there is no possibility of meaningful discourse or commerce of any sort. Instead of going forth and finding grand civilizations and new challenges, we find disruption, disease, poverty, death, and all the ills that we have struggled against for so long.

It is ironic. We finally solve all those issues for ourselves and go forth to find the same issues awaiting us among the stars.

...

"Prime Minister, what is it that holds your attention in Our presence?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty. You know that the Infinity And Beyond has returned, yes?"

"Yes, although I see little use to us in that grand venture."

"Perhaps not, and yet, there may be something we can do for them that would, in the end, repay our kindness a thousand times over, Your Majesty."

"Continue, Prime Minister."

((continued))

The gray walls of Bradford's modest realspace room faded away as his lenses projected his far more opulent virtual space directly onto his retinas. The feel of his simple but ergonomically sound office chair vanished, his nerve endings tingling for a moment as the haptic implant on his spine activated, and began sending artificial impulses to his brain that brought his senses of touch, smell, and taste into the virtual world.

He flew through the air, leaving his cozy private world for the public virtuanet, skipping between hubs of activity with brisk mental commands. Like most people, he eschewed the anachronism of walking, for the most part. You weren't bound by real-world space and physical limitations on the virtuanet, and he saw no reason to pretend that he was, though the older generations might disagree, seeing natural locomotion as an essential part of the human experience. A waste of time, as far as Bradford was concerned.

Which is why he was surprised to find himself suddenly standing in a public park, unable to skip past it towards the concert venue that was his destination.

"Hello," said a lilting, musical feminine voice. He turned and saw a beautiful woman with reddish brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a long flowing gown. She held a small, pitiful-looking creature, cradled in her arms -- clearly an extraterrestrial. It looked like one of the more sympathetic species that had been discovered, with it's large sad eyes and chubby little uncoordinated limbs that gave it an adorably childlike appearance to humans.

All around Bradford, a soft sorrowful melody began to play, as though produced by an invisible orchestra. He groaned. He paid subscription fees to all the major hubs to avoid commercial advertisements, so this encounter could only mean one thing: he'd been randomly selected for a Public Service Announcement. Right on cue, the woman -- almost certainly an AI avatar based on some long-dead celebrity -- raised an antique microphone to her lips, as she held the sad little alien to her bosom with her other arm.

"In the arms of an angel, far away from here..."

Bradford groaned, as the avatar continued her song. Before he could look away or shut off his audio, the small alien turned to look directly at him with its big, pleading eyes, and let out a plaintive whimper. Despite his best efforts, his guts twisted with sympathy for the poor little guy.

A solemn disembodied voice began to explain the sorry plight of the various disadvantaged and suffering alien species that humanity had discovered languishing on habitable planets, and how they desperately needed the help of people like Bradford. By this point, however, he was no longer listening. He knew when he was beaten.

Grumbling to himself about the naked emotional manipulation on display in the PSA, he pulled up his credit interface with a wave of his hand, and began inputting a donation.

Personal Log: Day 492

Today is the day. We find out if our Space VII transmissions were successfully able to be decoded and translated. It had been 3 years since the “crash” of Space VII was reported to the public, but those of us working the true case knew it wasn’t just a crash. They were warned to turn out of The Zyrbex Region but the president had ordered them to stay course. Within moments a gravitational wave with the force of a black hole had been unleashed upon the crew. All were immediately “lost to the stars” as the public knew.

Space VII had launched 15 years ago, I was part of the original launch team and one of the few left to receive their transmissions and communications. Within 3 years of the launch humanity had discovered that we were in fact not alone. March 19th, 2136; the day we discover alien life. Every horror movie about them had been right.

The Zybrex were ripping through the universe. Farming species after species, harvesting world after world. Leaving pure chaos and destruction in their wake. For the ones that survived there was no hope. We on Earth saw opportunity to help, and learn more about other species on the brink of extinction. From this, the program ORBYT was launched. ORBYT was designed to collect data first, analyze and interpret that data in order to best help the survivors rebuild. Charity’s all over the globe donating to build these devices to be sent to planets to start the rebuild, collect information on the species, but also deliver information about the human race.

Soon after the universe was notified of the human race and our efforts to help things went down hill fast. The Zybrex learned of our resources and our knowledge of the other species we attempted to help. In one day we lost 4.3 billion people. The blink of an eye, just like that gone. Their souls taken to power the Zybrex fleets.

The world was already devastated enough by the harvest, they did not need to be burdened with the true fate of the crew on Space VII.

Personal Log: Day 503

If I could go back 11 days and take back what I had learned I would. I admit that I have thought of a means to my end since reading and hearing the transmissions from Space VII on their tragic last day. What I have learned can never reach the public. There are already so few of us left since the harvest, we can’t afford to lose any more.

Part of the transmission is as follows:

“You know who we are. You know what we need, for we are you and you are we. Sacrifice the many to save the few, as so many years you Mother Earth have commanded us to do.”

You hear the captain gasp as they realize what this means. They ask the Zybrex to speak plainly if it may be the humans last moments, they wish to hear familiar words and sounds rather than decibels so low machines must be used to listen.

“We left Earth long before you ever launched your mission. Long before cars, and planes. We left after our monuments and equipment were built. Before the harvest and destruction, the pyramids were our beacons, Uluru our womb, the many falls, lakes, and seas were our communication pathways. We made Earth strong so one day we could come back to her. The souls we harvest now are fuel for the journey home.”

And with that a loud crunching sound. I knew that was the gravitational wave wreaking havoc aboard the ship. Emotions pained me. None of this seemed fair or right but the history all lined up, there was no denying it.

Based on the time of the transmission The Zybrex empire will be in Earths orbit in no less than 30 hours.

What am I supposed to do with 30 hours. I have no one left. There are 3 of us who maintain the machines and systems here. The world as we knew it before the harvest was gone. There would be no point to broadcast the impending doom that humanity is set to face. I just pray that whatever happens it is quick and painless.

I know what I can do. ORBYT will truly tell the universe who we are. This is your warning. We were all wrong.

Unknown amount of time later: “Humanity Transmission complete. ORBYT device is equipped with A.I. to answer any questions you may have about the human race. Are there any that you have at this time?”

“Uhhhhhh……. Yes and no,” said Jymnxis

“If there are no further questions ORBYT will begin assessment of species and you will be notified best course of action to proceed with rebuilding in approximately 4 hours.

“It was surprising to say the least.” Doctor Emily said as she sat in front of the camera. She had long black hair that was peppered with white. “When we reached the stars we thought ‘maybe there was rules and that’s why they didn’t reach out.’ Hah, we were naive back then.” She sighed and patted her arm before continuing. “When we came. There was silence. Wars, plagues, famines, death was rampant. Like The end of history (note “the end of history” is the human colloquial term for the war to end history, the largest war on terra.) at a galactic level.” She stopped for a moment to think. “When I was first sent out. I was sent to Janus 13. The native species ,the Unvali as they like to be called, were quick to breed strong warriors. That made them expendable to people. But it also made them a threat. The Unvali were largely farmers on a class 8 planet. Work was hard and life was harder. But that’s besides the point now. I was sent to do surgeries to those who need them.” She stopped as she looked up. “Hundreds came the first day.. I saved maybe 30 that day.. so that day I swore to something. I would not stop working and teaching on that planet.. the Unvali are now a thriving race. Now..”

“You say that with regret. What happened.” And off screen interviewer asked, their voice disguised to hide their species.

“Maybe a year into doing that we had a number of outposts where doctors were helping people. There was around 20 species helping at that point. The Fal-axan did not like that. They were somehow profiting off the wars. So they-“ she stopped to wipe a tear away. “they bombed out outposts. We lost.. so many people. I somehow survived.. somehow..” stopping the camera rolls back, showing off the doctor’s robotic legs. “But even after that, I never gave up.” She said clenching her fist. “As it is, the Unvali make some of the best workers in the union. And it cause we were there.”

“Thank you for your time.”

“Cut.” The director said.

“Thank you. How many more are you asking for this?” Emily asked getting up.

“324 more. This is going to be about a Terran day long.”

“Wow.” Emily said shaking her head. “That’s gonna be something indeed. Now If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to begin the trip back to Nolla-0S2. My work is never done.”

Our ancestors had told stories of the stars, named the planets of our solar system after Gods and became assured that what lay beyond the black, abyssal void was Heaven. Maybe it was Heaven, but if it was then it had changed beyond recognition.

The Milky Way was home to trillions of aliens, differing cultures, technologies, and species. It was everything we dreamed it would be, it was everything we could have ever thought of. In our fledgling years dreaming of the stars, the stars dreamed back, but their dreams were cut short - now we know why.

All the information we've obtained is from what we recovered from a derelict monitoring station established just beyond our solar system. The station was a part of a small network, a series of outposts dedicated to keeping the galaxy a secret from Humanity. We now believe this was done to protect us.

Every planet, every drone, every light, starship and station had lost power a handful of decades ago. A strong, all-encompassing blast from a dying magnetar had reduced the entire galaxy back to the stone age. The advanced but now aging alien deflectors arranged around our solar system proved to be Humanity's saving grace.

According to the database of a long dead but recently rebooted alien computer, the galaxy, like Mankind in many aspects, was completely reliant on technology. Billions of dying, elderly aliens were on constant, permanent life support. Hundreds of thousands of shipping companies delivered vital goods to planets and stations that couldn't sustain themselves. Machines similar to our freezers on Earth kept food safe to consume, to store - but all of those completely necessary activities were stripped away in a terrifyingly fast yet slow process.

The magnetar blast swept through half of the galaxy within the first decade, billions would have their fate sealed with no ability to cook or store food - let alone procure medicine, water, or other necessities that could be otherwise received via the interstellar market. Hundreds of aliens living in luxury resort hotels would suffocate as life support systems were taken in the night.

The other half of the galaxy would face a slow, agonizing end as their technology was rendered absolutely inert. Humanity, hidden behind its weak yet stable alien deflector shields, would retain its ability to grow and prosper, and to uncover the fate of those who had protected us.

The aliens the public now calls, 'the Protectors,' were a race which had dedicated itself to protecting and uplifting primitive life. In a last ditch, purely altruistic, effort - the aliens had attempted to save Humanity. Now, we would try and return the favor.

Chaff pressed a button on his holopad, typing a period as he finished off the first new entry of his new journal. He gently laid the device on his desk, leaning to turn off his lamp. Light from an alien star streamed into his room as he grabbed his ID card and then his white helmet. A red cross adorned the top of the helm, with his red, white suit having, on his upper shoulder, the symbol of caduceus. Chaff adjusted the helmet, sparing time to take one last, long deep breath before he set foot on an alien world.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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