The good old days. Capitalised because they are over, because they have disappeared. My fingers stroke the glass-ceramic windows of my space glider. In a few minutes we'll be within range of the Oortians. Just three weeks ago we thought we were alone and hoped so much for contact with aliens. And now we're throwing the last defence units against the Oortians, hoping to get at least one of the colony ships through.

Never before have we Terrans faced something that overran us so brutally, leaving us so completely hopeless. The first contacts couldn't even send out distress signals before they dissolved into glowing plasma. Even our strongest armour only lasted seconds against their weapons. There was no communication - so we don't know what they are called, what they look like or what they think. They came from the Oort Cloud and changed everything.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Just three weeks ago, I was working towards a future for my family. Today, none of that matters. They're not on the colony ship. They are waiting on Earth for their end - whatever that looks like. I am a pilot and I am flying towards my death. I am proud of my commitment to Terra. It's hard to nurture that pride when everything I do seems useless. All I do is fight for a few milliseconds. Maybe it's just the milliseconds it takes to start the hyperdrive on the colony ship.

When I was a child, female soldiers were the great heroes. They fearlessly defended the borders and our freedom. It seemed like every death made a difference. I would like to have that impression too. The feeling of making a difference. How wonderful those good old days must have been.