December 31, 2199 – New Year's Eve at Lake Geneva

  The

  scent of old wood and dried herbs mingled with the crisp winter air as I

  sat in a small bar on the shores of Lake Geneva. Outside, the chatter

  of revelers swelled—New Year's Eve 2199 was in the air. Amidst the soft

  clinking of glasses and the muted laughter of a few guests, I activated

  my data pad, its softly glowing display showing the familiar recording

  interface, ready to capture every precious moment.

  Beside me sat

  an elderly man whose deeply lined face spoke of times long past. He

  leaned in slightly and whispered as if confiding a secret:

  "This is the beginning of something huge."

  I

  merely nodded and let my recording run—though this moment had already

  been circling my thoughts for weeks. My editor at NebulaView News Agency

  had revealed to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement, that my next

  big story was imminent. The invitation to report aboard the UNS Gagarin

  had been my most closely guarded secret for weeks—something I had been

  eagerly anticipating.

  Just as I was mulling over the old man's

  words, my data pad vibrated gently in my hand—a reminder of the official

  letter I had received weeks ago. It confirmed my assignment as a young

  reporter aboard the UNS Gagarin, the research vessel set to embark on

  its maiden voyage into space.

  Outside, the festive atmosphere

  intensified as the countdown to the new year began. The cold winter air

  brushed against my face while the sounds of rising rockets and cheering

  voices swept me up in the moment. I could feel how all the preparations

  of the past weeks culminated in this single instance.

  I took a

  deep breath and let my gaze wander over the shimmering Lake Geneva,

  which reflected the vibrant colors of the passing fireworks. All these

  impressions—the familiar scent, the quiet sounds, the sparkling

  lights—seemed to pave the way for me. It was as if all the small moments

  and premonitions were converging into a greater whole.

  A

  mischievous thought crossed my mind—this moment could easily serve as

  the opening line of my next headline. But for now, I just wanted to feel

  what it meant to stand on the eve of a new century.

  I closed my

  data pad, pushed myself up from the bar stool, and stepped out into the

  cool night. The lake lay still, reflecting the last glowing sparks of

  the old year and the growing promise of a new beginning. As the final

  seconds of the year were counted down outside, I knew deep within me:

  tonight, I was crossing the threshold into something great—and I would

  capture every single moment of it.

  I left the bar and strolled

  down the cobbled street, while the fading echoes of the fireworks still

  crackled in the distance. The cool winter air brushed against my face,

  and I listened to the faint hum of the streetlights, their glow

  flickering like fleeting sparks in the darkness—memories that seemed

  almost tangible in the cold.

  On my way to my small apartment, I

  felt each step against the cool marble floor beneath my feet. The

  familiar sounds of the city—the distant murmur of celebrants, the

  creaking of old cobblestones—blended with my own thoughts. A mix of

  anticipation and a quiet, nagging ache of farewell settled in me. On one

  hand, the upcoming adventure aboard the UNS Gagarin called to me—the

  promise of being part of a historic mission that would take me far

  beyond the horizon. On the other hand, every fiber of my being clung to

  this home I had held onto for so long.

  In the dimly lit hallway of

  my apartment, familiar items adorned the walls—an old photograph of me

  smiling in front of Lake Geneva and a worn keepsake from carefree times.

  I paused briefly, letting my gaze wander over these memories, and felt a

  warm smile flicker across my face. It wasn't a painful goodbye, but

  rather a moment of honoring the beautiful times—and at the same time,

  embracing the adventure ahead.

  I stepped quietly into my living

  room, where the sound of a ticking clock and the gentle rustling of a

  curtain in the wind accompanied the silence. The city lights outside

  appeared like flickering flames dancing in the darkness—each beam of

  light a promise I might never experience so intensely again.

  Taking

  a deep breath, I typed a few final notes into my data pad—small

  fragments of thought capturing my ambivalence: the bittersweet joy of

  the upcoming adventure and the quiet sorrow of possibly leaving this

  familiar world behind forever. I knew that tomorrow marked the day I

  would board the UNS Gagarin—and with every beat of my heart, the

  realization grew that I might never experience home the same way again.

  In

  the faint light filtering through the window, I silently bid farewell

  to all that I knew. Closing the door behind me, I stepped out into the

  cool night, ready to take the first step into a future that was both

  promising and painful—a step that would lead me on a path beyond

  anything I had ever imagined.

  January 1, 2200 – On the Way to the UNS Gagarin

  The

  first day of the new year dawns, and I leave my apartment—this familiar

  place adorned with an old photograph and small mementos that remind me

  of carefree times. With one last glance at the memories that have always

  accompanied me, I step out into the crisp morning air and make my way

  to the shuttle service.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Outside, the fresh chill of the winter

  morning envelops me as I hear the faint hum of passing shuttles and the

  soft creak of street lamps. With every step on the cool marble floor, my

  anticipation grows for what lies ahead—a new chapter that is just

  beginning to unfold.

  Seated in the shuttle, I feel the rhythmic

  vibration of the engines as they gently lift me into the sky. Through

  the large windows, a breathtaking panorama of space unfolds before

  me—sparks of stars and planets flashing in the darkness, and the

  imposing silhouette of the Sol Station, the pulsating hub where our

  spacecraft are docked. Like a silent guardian, it stands there—a promise

  to all who seek to conquer the stars.

  Suddenly, my gaze falls

  upon the construction ship Yangtze, majestically setting its course for

  the asteroid Vesta. What was once considered a mere rock fragment is now

  the focal point for building a new mining station—a project set to

  supply our growing fleet with the necessary resources.

  A cheeky

  thought crosses my mind, almost mockingly: Well, that will be my next

  headline once they get started. A shy smile plays on my lips as I

  realize I've been dreaming of this mission for weeks. Today, I will

  board the UNS Gagarin, knowing that I am about to become part of a

  journey that extends far beyond the known.

  With one last look

  through the shuttle window at the brilliant panorama of the Sol System,

  my heart fills with a mix of excitement and quiet anticipation. As we

  approach Sol Station—the spaceyard glowing like a lighthouse in the

  rising sunlight—I feel every moment preparing me for what's to come.

  Ready

  to embark on the infinite expanse of space, I look forward to writing a

  story today—one that reaches far beyond the horizon, uniting all the

  small moments and dreams that have led me here.

  The shuttle docks

  smoothly at the UNS Gagarin, and as the metallic doors slide open, a

  warm but firm voice greets me: Welcome aboard.

  Standing at the threshold is Xiu Wan—her gaze both calm and piercing. With a friendly yet decisive tone, she says:

  Come with me, I'm leading the tour today. I've already heard your names—it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person.

  I step forward, my heart pounding faster. As I pass her, I murmur softly:

  Seems like we have our own little spaceship committee here.

  Xiu Wan raises an eyebrow slightly, a brief knowing smile playing on her lips, and replies:

  Your humor is as unyielding as a comet, Makarov. Today, there will be plenty of moments waiting to be captured by you.

  We

  walk through the expansive corridors, where the walls glow in soft

  blue-white hues. Holographic displays flicker everywhere, and the quiet

  hum of the systems blends with the rhythmic pulse of the engines—a

  steady, reassuring heartbeat of the ship.

  A crew member in a bright blue jumpsuit casually explains:

  I oversee system monitoring. Once the ship fully comes to life, I ensure everything runs smoothly.

  In

  another room, illuminated by subtle futuristic holograms, another

  colleague shows us our quarters. Pointing to a sleek, modern bed and a

  multifunctional desk, he remarks:

  Here, you won't just sleep—you can also store all your data and memories, all seamlessly synchronized with your data pads.

  After

  taking a moment to explore, I find a quiet moment for myself. In my

  quarters, decorated with subtle personal accents, I let my gaze wander

  through the large panoramic window. Outside lies Earth—a planet that has

  undergone a remarkable transformation over the 22nd century. I see

  delicate shades of green reminiscent of the Scandinavian reforestation

  sectors, and in the distance, the lights of the Pearl River Agglomerate

  shimmer—a living testament to urban renewal. Even the once barren Sahara

  now glows with lush greenery—a silent promise of human ingenuity.

  Before

  my thoughts can settle, Xiu Wan quietly steps beside me, smiling as if

  to say: This is just the beginning. Her calm, confident presence and the

  breathtaking view before me make me feel like I'm in the midst of

  history—part of a mission that extends far beyond the familiar.

  Taking

  a deep breath, I refocus on the brilliant horizon of Earth. Today,

  January 1, 2200, is not just the start of a mission—it is the day I

  become part of this story. And I am ready to document every moment of

  it.

  Just as I cast one last look at Earth's luminous horizon, I hear Xiu Wan's voice:

  Makarov, follow me—it's time to step onto the bridge.

  Her

  steady presence guides me through the gleaming corridors of the UNS

  Gagarin. Soft blue-white light strips accentuate the futuristic panels,

  while holographic displays flicker quietly. I notice the precise

  interplay of technology and design—the flowing lines of architecture and

  the steady pulse of the engines, almost like a heartbeat.

  Arriving

  on the bridge, an impressive panorama unfolds before us. The vast

  windows reveal the endless expanse of space, where twinkling stars and

  distant planets merge in a silent dance. It feels as if the entire

  future is encapsulated in these points of light.

  Suddenly, a large holo-display activates, and the faces of our leadership appear. President Aisha Kaita speaks first:

  Dear

  crew, I am Aisha Kaita, President of the United Nations of Earth.

  Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era—your mission to Alpha

  Centauri is the next great step in our collective journey into the

  infinite. Your determination will secure our progress and embody the

  spirit of unity.

  Her words are closely followed by Defense Minister Ljudmila Skobelewa, whose voice is measured and resolute:

  I

  am Ljudmila Skobelewa. You are the daring explorers ensuring that our

  dream among the stars endures. Your dedication is invaluable.

  Finally, State Minister Sibusiso Swanepoel speaks in a calm tone:

  I

  am Sibusiso Swanepoel. With your help, you will chart new horizons and

  maintain the balance between tradition and innovation. Your discoveries

  will lay the foundation for the future of all humanity.

  Their words resonate through the futuristic space as I listen intently. Xiu Wan, ever professional, turns briefly to me:

  The leadership here is clearly structured—I expect us to record all the key details in our reports today.

  Though

  I have only briefly known Xiu Wan, I sense the gravity of the moment.

  My gaze drifts across the infinite panorama visible through the massive

  bridge windows. Outside, an awe-inspiring spectacle unfolds: space,

  filled with shimmering stars, and the Sol Station orbiting our sun in

  the distance.

  With a quiet, almost teasing thought murmured under

  my breath—That will probably be my next headline—I feel anticipation

  rise within me. The precise, almost clinical address from our leadership

  blends with the rhythm of the ship's systems, and I realize that today,

  January 1, 2200, a new chapter is beginning.

  Here, on the bridge

  of the UNS Gagarin, I witness the moment where technical precision and

  human ambition converge. I am ready to capture every moment—being part

  of this mission means experiencing the future in all its dimensions.