Fear.
Fear is what drove us out of the caves- fear that something would block us in and we would never see the sun again. Fear led us to destroy the forests and harvest the resources of our planet, almost destroying ourselves in the attempt to understand and industrialize nature until it bent to our will.
Fear has been the enemy of our species as long as as we have lived, and it drove us off our planet into the stars when we feared we might meet our end never exploringbeyond our biosphere.
Since then, we have flourished. For hundreds of years we expanded and our lifespans leaped geometrically. Men and women grew up never knowing scarcity, and we swept aside ancient alien races. For a time there was peace and plenty- but fear remained. In the shadows behind us, and in the unknowns ahead- fear.

It has been fourty years since the first federal census connected the dots, twenty years since the quarantine war that decimated our great war machines, and ten years since the declaration of martial law. Fear has returned.

On the planet Earth, it was quiet. It had been for quiet some time, but it was not a quiet of peace or any amount of tranqility. It was the eerie stillness of a people expecting a great storm, or a prison that has long forgettten a hope for freedom. All the wealthy people with means had long since deserted the surface, leaving the poor to grow fruit in the streets of once dense and bustling cities. Amongst war machines long since abandoned once the soldiers realized how futile solutions of force were, life went on.

Life went on, but the question amongst every single human being alive was simple, singular: for how long?

For more than fourty years people had been vanishing. Dissapearing without trace or any reason to their absence. What began at first as a great mystery descended into a panicked frenzy to find a solution. At first the aliens were blamed, but after futile and haphazard wars fought by constantly overthrown governments resulted in a lack of answers, we found the aliens as fearful as us. They boxed us in, surrounded us with fleets and destroyed our industries. Then we looked inside, and tore ourselves apart with the remaining weapons.

Even so, after all is said and done- it continues. On every world, every day, thousands of people vanish. We know rationally that on worlds of millions a thousand was nothing, a statistical anomaly- but we were afraid. Knowing that at any time, no matter who you were or what or where, that you could vanish- it brought us to the brink of species suicide. The entire purpose of wealth, of exploration, of existence was to set ourselves apart and try to make stability- and now it was gone, for everyone.

That is where we are today, and I am currently on a train riding to the Federal Space Agency. We used to have a fleet, it had long been destroyed- or so I thought. I look out the window and I can see it, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. A starship, gleaming and new, shining under the sun. We hadn’t had one of those since long before I was born.

I am Flight Officer Jonathan %NAME%- and I am afraid. I’ve always been afraid.
But seeing that... I have hope.

---------------

Sanders stared out the window, the datapad he had been tapping at laying in his lap. His eyes gleamed in the days light as he looked across the wide European flatland towards the FSA headquarters. The building was the largest on the planet, and it was dwarfed by that vast starship. Earth hadn’t been host to such a technological wonder for a half century or longer- those used to be built in space. Easier that way.

Impossible to hide though, and Jonathan knew that must be why it was here. Aliens were watching, and any sign of something able to break the blockade would surely lead to some unsavoury consequences.

The man sighed, and clutched his hand around the datapad until the screen turned rainbow. Those damned aliens, keeping them trapped down here while they slowly killed themselves. They were just afraid, scared of the unknown- but it was a fear he knew well, and he understood why they did.

Wouldn’t stop him from fighting it regardless. The difference between humans and aliens is that a human fought the unknown, and an alien always ran from it.

A small panel in the empty train car beeped, and flipped back to reveal a small display giving an update of the current time (5PM) weather (Cloudy with a 50% chance of rain), and some esoteric historical information. Apparently, a hundred years to the day  is when the War of Attrition with some alien race he had never heard of ended.

Jonathan shook his head and scratched at an itch on his back. This damn uniform was itchy- but that was perhaps understandable considering he hadn’t worn it for twelve years. Nobody had- he was surprised to find out the FSA even still existed. Didn’t see much point to it considering even communications satellites get shot down by the paranoid Powers that Be.

‘course the humans allowed to manage their bitter little existence got to live in orbit- aliens didn’t want their cowardly little micromanagers to dissapear, after all.

While Jonathan busied himself with continuing to work on his notes on that datapad- feeling this was an occassion important enough to jot down for histories sake- the panel flipped over again and made a different beep. He glanced up from his pad to see someone looking back at him. The face of a rather old looking man that was too close to the screen- as if he didn’t know if it was on- filled the display.

“Hello?” He asked, his voice heavily accented. Belgian, it sounded like.

“Hello? Are you from the FSA?” Jonathan replied, and placed his datapad back down beside him.

The man on the other side backed away, and continued staring at the screen. It was rather eerie how directly he looked into it, and his eyes were surprisingly vivid for a man of his age.

“You... could say that. To be honest, my good man- there is no FSA. We’ve just filled in the blanks over time. Computers still work if you find people to work them...” he continued, and glanced at something to the side.

“You are... Jonathan %NAME%, right?”

Jonathan nodded, and opened his mouth to say yes when he thought the man wouldn’t see him but was cut off.

“Good, good. You’re a lucky man- the rest of you are, er... gone. Even the original captain. Had a hell of a time getting you all here. Siberia, Brazil- Australia!”

“Australia? I thought they cut off all contact,” Jonathan asked.

The man smirked, and for a second a youthfull flash of glee held on his face. “Mmm they did- but we have aircraft. Probably the last ones.”

On the other side, something beeped, and the image became slightly staticy for a moment. The man frowned, and spoke hurriedly. “Uh, nevermind all this- once you get here, report to warehouse seven. We’ve lost most of the codes for the doors, so that’s our staging area. If you need me ask for Doctor LeGrange.”

With that, as abruptly as it started- the display turned off. Jonathan was left slightly confused, and every more eager to find out what was going on.

The rest of the train ride went smoothly, and Jonathan folded his datapad into a shirt pocket so he could focus on enjoying the view of that starship as he approached. From the monorail platform the view was amazing, and the vast engines seemed almost impossible. Such absolute power, enough fusion energy generated by each of the six to drive the entire planet. The main mass of the ship was left unpainted, but the engines hadbeen coated in a deep blue that seemed to absorb the sunlight that hit them.

The central mass of the ship to which they attached was hexagonal, and tapered off to a smoothly cylindrical forward column which bore the telltale signs of a well-insulated observation area at the very tip. Below it dozens of buildings- almost a small city- teemed with tiny antlike people doing whatever it was they were.

By a rough guess Jonathan pegged the ship at a mile long and half that high- although he knew that the vast majority of that volume was given to those incredible engines. He had never heard a ship like this described. Either it was new, or it was some sort of prototype.

When the monorail train arrived at it’s station under the ship, Jonathan walked out with his head craned upwards. The belly of the ship was lit with dozens of spotlights as crews still worked on this or that, currently painting something with great white letters. So far they had gotten as far as “FSAS”

Jonathan toyed with different names in his head as he eagerly strode down the metal stairs, wearing his blue uniform proudly- even dispite the dirt stains- as he strode amongst the workers clad in overalls. It was busy down here, with freight being moved around with forklifts, helicopters taking off and landing, and hundreds- if not thousands- of people hurrying to and from. A noisy chatter mixed with the buzz of machinery and an incredibly banging noise coming from high above echoed all around him.

Warehouse Seven was the largest and laid right ahead of him. Jonathan’s pace increased slowly until he was almost at a running-walk, giving into the feeling of all those around him. This was the human spirit- something no alien knew. A feeling of /doing/, of being a part of something bigger than yourself.

Not in the way those hive species feel it- if they feel anything- either.

Upon arriving at Warehouse Seven two blue uniformed guards- both holding rifles that looked out of a museum- stopped him. Jonathan opened his mouth to speak, but they both quickly slammed the butts of their rifles against the ground and saluted.

“Captain!”

Jonathan tilted an eyebrow. Surely they had mistaken him- but before he could say anything a voice called from inside. Feminine, and not someone he recognized. He strode past the soldiers into a wide and open room filled with shiny new vehicles, a few people, and more computers than he thought existed on the planet.

“Jonathan %Name%!” The voice repeated, and Jonathan’s attention came to a rather attractive woman holding a compact computer in one hand, and pointing at him with the other. A lab coat was draped over her, obscuring whatever she was wearing under it.

“I uh... here! I’m here, what is it?” Jonathan asked, as he quickly darted over. The half dozen other people all gazed at him with a strange sort of admiration- as if they were waiting for him to say something.

“Uh... you’re what... what it is,” The woman stammered.

“I’m Catherine Songbird- medical officer.”

Jonathan’s reply was interruptedby the man beside her. Rather thin looking man, probably American, covered in orange overalls.

“Jake Peterson, Engineering.”

And the one beside him. European for sure, wearing a red uniform with a dark vest overtop- probably armoured.

“Samuel Conner, Security.”

And the one beside him. A woman, slightly shorter than him with a thicker build.

“Izihora Yatoshi. Research and Development.”

The last, an older looking man- but not the one from the display on the way here, was smiling widely as he gave his name. He was wearing the same blue uniform as Jonathan, and an even older one at that.

“Derek Sanders, Communications and Homeworld contact.”

Now that they were all done giving their positions, they looked to Jonathan. He was just about to blurt something out- he wasn’t sure what as his brain was melting with all this sudden information- before Derek started laughing.

“Look ‘t ‘im, he doesn’t know he’s the captain!” he exclaimed, and clapped his hands. “Thank God these clowns found us, if they tried to fly this damn ship themselves they would end up inside a start.”

Jonathan blinked, and poked his chest with a finger. “Uh- me? The... captain?” he asked, unsure even if it was right before him.

“Yes, you,” Catherine said, and placed the computer down before striding up before him. “Don’t be too proud of yourself- you weren’t the first pick,” she said, and then frowned before glancing away.

“None of us were, don’t be rude to the new captain- I’m sure he’s as confused as we were,” Izihora added, to a response a chorus of knowing grunts from the others.

Jonathan crossed his arms, and started to accept the facts before him.

If he was the bottom of the barrel- he was going to make sure it ended up being a damn good barrel.

“Alright- so I’m the captain. Fine, works for me- at least I won’t have anyone to blame but myself if we all die,” he joked- and upon said joke landing rougly, continued. “So uh- what exactly is our mission?”

For that, he was handed a folder from Izihura. “Fix it.”