Tears from the Starbound Hope

Day 1: Entering the Unknown

Today, we crossed into a region of space marked on our charts as unclaimed. We are deep in the frontier now, pushing beyond known systems into territory few have ever mapped. The six warships assigned to escort us, all crewed by veterans of the Keo Terra Defense Force, were in high spirits, confident that nothing out here could challenge us. The convoy commander, Captain Rho, seemed especially eager to reach our destination.

Then it happened. A transmission came through, brief, direct, and in a language that felt strangely familiar. The translators struggled before the message stabilized: Leave immediately. This system is under the jurisdiction of the Omnium. The name was little more than a rumor within fleet circles, whispered tales of advanced vessels sighted at the edge of human space. But here they were, and they were warning us away.

Captain Rho dismissed the transmission without hesitation, certain that whatever waited beyond could not threaten a Keo Terra convoy. He ignored the second warning as well. I felt the chill of that decision as we pressed deeper into the system, unsure of what awaited us.

Day 2: The Encounter

We saw it, a single Omnium warship, sleek, dark, and silent. It absorbed light rather than reflected it, an absence more than an object. Captain Rho refused to retreat. Instead, he ordered the escorts into formation, determined to show that Keo Terra's strength would not be challenged.

From the bridge, I watched as our warships accelerated toward the unknown vessel, weapons systems fully charged. Then the sensors spiked, an energy surge unlike anything in our databases. In seconds, it was over. Each of our six escorts was destroyed before they could land a single hit. The Omnium vessel moved with impossible precision, striking without visible discharge, its weapons invisible but absolute.

It was like watching a predator at play, swift, effortless, merciless. Six warships, gone in moments. The silence that followed was unbearable.

Day 3: Aftermath and the Message

The bridge of the Starbound Hope was silent as debris drifted past the viewport. I had friends on those ships, people I’d served with for years. Now they were gone, erased by a force we couldn’t comprehend. It hit us all at once: we were completely outmatched.

Another transmission came through. The same calm, detached voice repeated the warning: Leave this system. Do not return. There was no anger, no triumph, just certainty. Our escorts were gone, Captain Rho with them, and no one dared to argue. I gave the order to reverse course. The colony ships turned slowly, engines burning pale blue as we began the long retreat home.

Day 4: Reflections

I can’t shake the image of those ships, the pride of our fleet, falling so easily. The Omnium vessel did not pursue us. It simply watched as we withdrew, a silent sentinel marking the border between what is ours and what will never be. This system belongs to them, and they have no interest in negotiation or conquest. Only in being left alone.

As we move farther from their space, the weight of the encounter grows heavier. The confidence we once carried, the certainty of Keo Terra’s strength, is gone. We now understand what it means to meet the Omnium. It isn’t war. It’s a revelation.

When we finally cleared the system, I contacted Mission Control. The directive came almost immediately: return to base and file no official record. This event never happened. I ordered a full communications blackout for the remainder of the voyage.

Still, I know what we saw. And I know that somewhere out there, in the quiet between the stars, they are watching.

— Journal of Captain Lin Mei Tan (Date Redacted)