July 22, 2200, aboard the UNS Gagarin

  I'm

  sitting by the large panorama window of the UNS Gagarin, gazing out at

  Proxima Centauri b—this silent, almost eerie planet we've been orbiting

  for hours. The faint, reddish light of the nearby red dwarf star bathes

  the barren landscape in a mysterious glow. Around me, the ship's systems

  hum softly, and the rhythmic clicking of my data pad feels like a

  calming beat in this almost meditative stillness.

  As

  I study the measurements—surface temperatures, remnants of atmosphere,

  geological analyses—a thought flashes through my mind. I recall those

  old databases from Geneva, which once read:

  "As

  long as humankind has been able to look to the stars and yearn for a

  new home, Proxima Centauri b has always been a silent dream..."

  Today,

  these words sound as though they were written just for this moment.

  Back then, when I roamed the dusty, narrow alleys of Geneva, I never

  imagined that one day I'd be reporting from so far away, out here in

  space. And yet now I feel all the longing and hope that resonate in

  those lines.

  Suddenly,

  I hear soft footsteps behind me. I turn around and see Xiu Wan,

  who—despite her otherwise sober and analytical demeanor—has a spark of

  childlike curiosity in her eyes. She comes up to me and leans against

  the panoramic window with a slight smile.

  "Elena,

  look at this," she says, tapping on the holo display, which shows a

  split image of the planet. "One half glows in the warm, golden light of

  Alpha Centauri A, the other lies in mysterious darkness. There's a faint

  bluish sheen at the poles—maybe frozen water?"

  I lean closer to the glass, feeling the cool air brushing softly against my cheeks, and reply in fascination, "Amazing... If that ice is water-based, it could provide valuable insights for future colonization plans."

  Xiu

  Wan nods slowly, and for a moment we both fall silent as we take in the

  scene. Her voice finally breaks the hush again, quietly and decisively:

  "We still know very little about the atmosphere, and the initial

  spectroanalyses are uncertain. Yet this planet—despite its barren

  appearance—holds something that reminds me of old dreams. It's as if it

  preserves all the building blocks that once fueled our imagination."

  In

  that instant, the familiar tingling stirs inside me—a thrilling

  sensation that surfaces when a simple data point has the potential to

  open new doors. Memories of my early days as a young reporter in

  Geneva's dusty streets mix with the realization that I am now witnessing

  a story larger than myself.

  With a faint smile, I type a few lines into my data pad.

  July 22, 2200, Earth, Geneva

  I

  was seated in one of the modern-designed chairs in the Plenary Hall of

  the United Nations of Earth, surrounded by the glittering lights of

  modern glass facades that stood in sharp contrast to the historical

  domes. The hall was filled to capacity—a silent, almost reverent hush

  lay over everyone as we waited for the session to begin.

  Then President Aisha Kaita stepped up to the lectern. Her voice echoed clear and firm beneath the dome as she began:

  "With this decree, we aim to pool our resources to explore the unknown.

  Space is no longer just a distant dream but our next great challenge."

  While

  she spoke, my fingers involuntarily ran over the official document in

  my hand—"Exploration of the Stars," it read, a title as simple and

  promising as the thought of a future beyond Earth. I remembered earlier

  days, when I was roaming the dusty alleys of Geneva, and I felt just how

  far we as humankind had come.

  Next

  to President Kaita stood Defense Minister Ljudmila Skobelewa, whose

  solemn gaze swept over the rows of delegates. It was as if her eyes had

  already recognized every hurdle and challenge that lay ahead. The

  atmosphere was electrifying—everyone sensed that this moment was a

  turning point.

  With a quiet nod, I signaled my approval of the final amendments. We had defined three clear focal points:

  Expansion of scientific funding programs, to support universities and research institutions—particularly in the fields of astronomy and space technology.Accelerated shipbuilding through targeted incentive programs, so that we could send even more research vessels into the vastness of space.Strengthened international collaboration, to promote exchange among nations—because the stars belong to us all.

  After

  Aisha Kaita finished speaking, a subdued, approving applause arose. I

  stood up to approach the lectern myself. I'm not a gifted speaker, but

  the responsibility entrusted to me as Minister weighed heavily on my

  shoulders—after all, I also had to represent those voices who sometimes

  doubted whether we should solve Earth's problems first before venturing

  into space.

  "Dear

  colleagues," I began, taking a deep breath and trying to organize my

  thoughts, "our Earth still faces many challenges, that's without

  question. But exploring the stars is no luxury project. It's the key to

  solving earthly problems. Our space program has already yielded

  technologies that benefit humanity—and this mission will not only look

  outward into space but also promote fundamental research here on our

  home planet."

  In that

  moment, a poignant silence settled over the hall. The significance of

  the decree was almost tangible, and then the vote began—unanimous and

  with no objections. This rare event showed me just how strong our

  collective will to venture into the stars truly was.

  When

  the result was announced, cheers broke out. Delegates embraced one

  another, and in my heart grew the certainty that we had set something

  tremendous in motion—not just a buzzword, but the official starting shot

  to unite our scientific ambitions and surpass ourselves.

  Later,

  as I left the hall and walked through the long corridors of the UN

  buildings, I ran into Aisha Kaita herself. Her satisfied smile made me

  feel that she, too, saw this historic moment as the start of a new era.

  "We've made history, Sibusiso," she whispered as we paused briefly.

  "And now it's up to us to bring it to life," I replied quietly, my gaze firm and resolute.

  With

  these words, I left the Plenary Hall. While the sun slowly set over New

  Geneva and the city's lights glowed in a gentle, warm radiance, I knew

  deep inside: Every step into space is a step toward greater prosperity,

  knowledge, and peace—a path we walk together as one humanity.

  August 6, 2200, UNS Armstrong

  While

  the UNS Gagarin continued to explore the Alpha Centauri system, we

  aboard the UNS Armstrong delved deeper into our own discoveries in the

  Procyon system. I had just finished reading Xiu Wan's latest report and

  was impressed by how smoothly her mission was proceeding—unlike ours,

  which was proving to be significantly more complex.

  Procyon

  IVa, the moon we were investigating, turned out to be a tough nut to

  crack. At first, our sensors had registered strange energy readings,

  leading us to hope for a spectacular find. But upon closer analysis,

  these values proved to be natural geological activity—a letdown, after

  we'd hoped for something more substantial.

  But

  then there was this trace: a brief near miss, an ancient projectile

  that almost hit us. It was as if the past had momentarily glanced into

  our present—a relic that might hail from an era long gone or perhaps

  even from another galaxy. I immediately ordered an examination of the

  retrieved fragments, but the initial results were slow to arrive.

  "Captain

  Sato," a crew member called over the internal channels, "we've received

  a message from Earth. They're asking us to transmit our research data

  as quickly as possible—there's significant interest in whether these

  projectiles actually have intergalactic origins."

  I

  nodded, though they couldn't see me, and replied, "Understood. Please

  forward everything we have so far. But I don't want any premature

  conclusions—we need a thorough analysis." As I spoke, I glanced at our

  schedule. Perhaps we should soon move on to another region of the

  Procyon system, since this moon no longer seemed to hold much for us.

  While

  I was lost in these thoughts, a transmission from the UNS Gagarin

  suddenly sounded. I immediately recognized Elena's voice—clear and warm,

  with a hint of familiarity that took me back to our early days:

  "Takumi, this is Elena. How are things going over there? We've heard you've had some exciting incidents. Any new insights?"

  I

  couldn't help but smile as I answered, "Elena, it's good to hear your

  voice. We did recover some fragments, but so far nothing that could be

  called groundbreaking. What about you? Have you ventured further into

  the Alpha Centauri system yet?"

  "Indeed,"

  came her prompt reply. "We've discovered a planet with possible ice

  deposits—really exciting, but nothing suggesting 'intelligent life,' if

  that's what you're asking."

  I chuckled softly. "I figure the universe will surprise us when the time is right."

  "I'm

  sure it will," Elena said, and then her voice trailed off. "Take care,

  Takumi. I hope we'll see each other soon—maybe at a rendezvous between

  the stars."

  "I'm looking forward to it," I replied, feeling a warm sense of optimism spread within me.

  After

  the transmission ended, I refocused on my work. I recalibrated our

  scanners—just another day in the life of a researcher: often uneventful,

  sometimes dramatic, but always driven by the search for the next

  mystery.

  August 31, 2200, Sol System

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  In

  the small, bustling shipyard on Luna, I stood by as the final component

  was attached to the UNS Cortez. The clear metallic clink—accompanied by

  the brief flash of the holo-welders—signaled the final step: our third

  research vessel was complete. At that moment, a feeling swept through me

  that took me back to my early days as a craftswoman on Earth. Back

  then, I worked with raw materials and boundless creativity—and now I

  held responsibility for an entire research vessel. A slight flutter in

  my stomach betrayed how special this instant was.

  The

  official documentation read: "Xenia Twardowska—Scientist, 32 years old,

  from Earth." A small smile crossed my face as I remembered those days

  when I repaired machines and assembled modules in orbital factories.

  Today, as captain of the UNS Cortez, I felt ready to discover new things

  and push the boundaries of our knowledge.

  The

  UNS Cortez—part of the renowned Asimov class—featured sleek lines and a

  distinctive hull design. But what made her truly special were the

  enhancements: high-precision sensors, a modular cargo bay for samples,

  and an innovative shield system based on Takumi Sato's work. The moment I

  stepped aboard, I was surrounded by the unmistakable scent of freshly

  welded metal and fresh paint—a scent that moved me deeply.

  "Welcome

  aboard, Captain Twardowska," called a young officer, snapping to

  attention. I smiled and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "No need for

  such formality—we're here to explore!"

  I

  let my gaze wander across the bridge. The soft blue tones of the dimmed

  lighting, the subdued flicker of holographic displays, and the

  comforting hum of the systems formed the rhythm of this new adventure.

  Our first waypoint appeared on the main display: still within the Sol

  system, we were to perform additional surveys and collect material

  samples from asteroids in Mars' orbit before venturing deeper into the

  void. With a small grin I muttered, "It certainly won't be boring." It

  reminded me that even the smallest tasks often harbor the greatest

  wonders—sometimes the biggest miracle is hidden in a modest piece of

  metal.

  I took a deep

  breath and let my gaze roam over the faces of my crew—young technicians,

  ambitious officers, and an experienced astrophysicist who had once

  attended a conference with Xiu Wan. Each of us was there to unravel the

  unknown.

  "System startup complete," someone at the rear consoles reported. "Engines are on standby."

  "Excellent,"

  I said, activating the internal comms. "This is Xenia Twardowska,

  commanding officer of the UNS Cortez. We'll be departing shortly. I

  expect us to support each other and maintain our curiosity—that's the

  key to everything we do."

  A

  low hum and gentle vibration ran through the ship's hull as we slowly

  disengaged from the dock. Outside, the stars sparkled, and in the

  distance, Earth appeared as a luminous blue-green planet—my home, which

  still captivates me, even as I now set forth into the unknown.

  Taking

  a deep breath, I settled into the captain's chair and gave the signal:

  "UNS Cortez—ready for departure. Plot a course for the asteroid belt,

  half thrust."

  As the

  officer confirmed, I felt that unmistakable thrill that told me: we're

  setting out to push the limits of what's known. While the UNS Cortez

  gathered speed, my thoughts drifted to the other research ships—the

  Gagarin, the Armstrong—and I felt like part of a great family in which

  every course led to its own story.

  I

  leaned back, listening to the rhythmic drone of the engines, smiling

  quietly. It was time to remember my roots—the days when I worked as a

  craftswoman on Earth, creating new wonders out of metal and ideas. And

  that spirit is exactly what we're taking with us into space.

  September 25, 2200, in the Alpha Centauri System

  My

  breath caught as I watched the main display, which showed the image of a

  strange planet. Alpha Centauri III—a name that had dominated our

  communications channels nonstop in recent days, though we never really

  knew what we'd find. Now, seeing it with my own eyes, I could barely

  contain my excitement.

  At

  first, we hardly dared admit that this planet might be so hospitable.

  But every reading and every sample confirmed it: the atmosphere was

  breathable, the temperatures were pleasant, and the first ground scans

  revealed a stunning variety of flora and fauna. My fingers trembled as I

  furiously typed every detail of this moment into my data pad.

  Suddenly, a message crackled through the ship's comms, almost surreal:

  "The UNS Gagarin has made a remarkable discovery on Alpha Centauri

  III—the planet teems with alien life. For the first time in history, we

  are encountering beings not of Earth."

  These

  words formed a tight knot of excitement and reverent awe within me.

  Could this be the legacy humankind had dreamed of for centuries—a second

  home, hidden in the depths of space?

  A

  rare hush fell over the bridge. Even Xiu Wan, who normally gave

  measured commentary on every find, was speechless for a moment. After a

  brief pause, she cleared her throat and addressed the crew:

  "We've

  opened a chapter our ancestors could only dream of. The presence of

  alien life shows us we're not alone. But caution is warranted—this

  planet might appear inviting, but we know nothing of its ecosystems or

  how they will react to our presence."

  Moments

  later, a crew member in a bright blue jumpsuit signaled, "Orbital

  probes are ready for launch. We'll start mapping the surface right away,

  searching for larger continents and potential landing sites."

  I turned to Xiu Wan. "Do you think we'll be able to land soon?"

  With

  a slight shrug and an unexpected gleam in her eyes, she replied, "If

  the readings remain this positive, it's only a matter of time. But one

  thing is certain: we'll be arriving on this planet as guests, not

  conquerors."

  While a

  thousand thoughts swirled in my head—from the question of whether we'd

  encounter extraterrestrial intelligence to the joy of discovering a

  place that's so different and yet so alive—I activated the bridge

  communications to deliver my first live report:

  "This

  is Elena Makarov aboard the UNS Gagarin—Alpha Centauri expedition.

  We've discovered the first habitable planet outside our Earth: Alpha

  Centauri III. Scans show breathable air, moderate temperatures, and a

  fascinating, diverse biosphere. A historic moment for all humanity—we'll

  keep you updated."

  As

  I spoke, the holo display filled with images of lush green plains,

  bizarre rock formations, and mist-shrouded forests. Faint outlines of

  strange creatures appeared—even if the pixel resolution wasn't yet

  revealing all the details.

  A

  young science officer grinned and said, "I bet we'll find plants that

  respond to light frequencies unknown on Earth—maybe even organisms

  living in symbiosis with minerals. Who knows?"

  I smiled back. That "who knows?" perfectly summed up the moment: uncertainty and boundless possibilities going hand in hand.

  Xiu

  Wan finally gave the next command: "Set a course for a stable orbit. We

  need to gather as much data as possible before taking the next step.

  And remember—this planet existed long before we ever thought of reaching

  for the stars. We must approach it with respect."

  With

  one last, lingering look at the pulsating greens and blues below us, I

  transmitted our initial reports back to Earth. In that moment, I knew:

  our dreams had become tangible. We were not alone, and humanity's story

  had gained a bright, new chapter.

  Xiu

  Wan turned to me and said with a smile, "Elena, the time has come—let's

  head to the landing capsule. Our data shows that this planet meets all

  our expectations. It's time to experience it firsthand."

  Together

  with several crew members, we made our way down the corridor leading to

  the "Turing." Each step felt like the beginning of a new, exhilarating

  journey as the anticipation within me grew.

  I

  stand at the hatch of the "Turing" landing capsule, my heart pounding

  in a quickening rhythm as I take my first step onto the alien soil of

  Alpha Centauri III. The cool, surprisingly breathable air fills my

  lungs, and I immediately sense that this is no ordinary moment—it's the

  beginning of something immense.

  Before

  me stretches a landscape that captivates me: wide, vibrant green plains

  where unusual rock formations glow in the golden rays of the double

  sun. All around me, plants shimmer in almost magical colors, as if they

  were dancing to the rhythm of an unknown life force. I look around and

  see how nature here tells its own breathtaking story.

  Next

  to me stands Xiu, her usually analytical gaze now filled with silent

  awe. She rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and at that moment, I

  feel we are arriving here as guests—not as conquerors, but as explorers

  humbly approaching the beauty and mystery of this world.

  My

  fingers tremble slightly as I pull out my data pad to record every tiny

  moment—the gentle rustle of unknown foliage, the distant hum of our

  instruments, and even the soft sound of my own footsteps on this alien

  terrain. I hear the faint whir of technology as a small team of

  technicians and scientists busily gather soil samples and scan the

  surroundings.

  "Look

  at these plants," I whisper, bending over a group of bioluminescent

  growths whose delicate glow is almost hypnotic. It's as though the

  planet itself has drawn us into a living painting—a scene that eclipses

  even our wildest dreams.

  With

  every breath, I feel a profound reverence mixed with an insatiable

  thirst for discovery. Every step on this uncharted ground promises that

  we—part of a curious humanity—are expanding the horizons of what's

  possible. I know this is only the beginning, and that even the smallest

  find brings us closer to the great mystery of the universe.

  As

  the double sun slowly rises above the horizon and bathes this strange

  world in a warm, golden light, it becomes clear to me: this moment is

  our shared step into a future in which the wonders of space are not just

  explored but truly lived. Here I stand, in the midst of this

  overwhelming instant, fully aware that humanity's history is now shining

  with new brilliance.

  Historic Discovery: Living Organisms Found on Alpha Centauri IIIStatus: September 30, 2200, 10:45 – NebulaView, Report by Elena Makarov

  Scientists

  aboard the UNS Gagarin have, for the first time, confirmed

  incontrovertible evidence of living organisms on the alien planet Alpha

  Centauri III. The discovery, described as "groundbreaking" in early

  landing reports, has been elevated to a new milestone in interstellar

  research through extensive sample analyses and sensor recordings.

  Facts and Measurements:

  Landing and Environment

  The

  "Turing" landing capsule touched down on September 25, 2200, in a

  region characterized by sweeping, vibrant green plains and unusual rock

  formations.The area is flooded with the warm, golden light of a double

  sun, creating a remarkable visual effect.

  Atmosphere and Climate

  Readings confirm a breathable atmosphere and moderate temperatures, which remained stable over several hours.

  Biodiversity

  Initial

  high-resolution imagery and ground scans revealed an unexpectedly

  diverse flora, including bioluminescent plants that react to previously

  unknown light frequencies.Recurring movement signatures in the dense

  vegetation point to simple animal life forms. On-Site Observations

  During the first EVA (extravehicular activity), crew members collected detailed samples and imagery.

  "Nature

  here seems like a living painting—the combination of vibrant colors and

  the bizarre shapes of the plants surpasses all prior expectations,"

  says Xiu Wan, the mission's research lead.

  Elena Makarov, reporting first-hand on site, describes her impressions:

  "Taking

  that first step onto this alien soil was overwhelming. Every breath in

  the cool, clear air confirmed: we've discovered something singular. It

  feels as if nature here speaks a language we are only just beginning to

  understand."

  Scientific Methods and Future Investigations

  The

  "Turing" continuously transmits multispectral data to Earth. Field

  teams systematically collect samples while local sensors continuously

  map the biosphere.

  Initial

  analyses suggest that the bioluminescent plants may exist in a

  symbiotic relationship with the mineral-rich soil—an occurrence

  previously observed only in isolated ecosystems on Earth.

  Significance of the Discovery

  The

  discovery of living organisms on Alpha Centauri III marks a major step

  forward in the quest for extraterrestrial life. Experts consider it not

  only proof that life can emerge under extreme conditions, but also an

  incentive for future interstellar missions.

  "This

  discovery provides one of the greatest confirmations yet that our

  dreams of an inhabited galaxy are within reach," said a spokesperson for

  the mission.

  Outlook

  In

  the coming weeks, the collected samples will be subjected to further

  analysis, and the ecosystem will be mapped in greater detail. The aim is

  to understand the structure of the biosphere and potential interactions

  between organisms and the planetary environment. These data may provide

  crucial insights into the evolution of life under non-terrestrial

  conditions.

  The

  discovery on Alpha Centauri III marks a historic turning point in

  interstellar research—a new chapter that vividly illustrates humanity's

  spirit of exploration and its tireless drive to uncover the unknown.

  Elena Makarov, NebulaView