All the equipment was there. Nobody was paying the electric bill anymore. The station just sat there. Claire had always thought it was strange to leave a building on the moon unoccupied. But maybe it wasn’t easily repurposed.
Playing around with the settings on her new communicator, she found the dead radio station. Claire tapped the station number, curious to hear what dead air actually sounded like.
“Gize… Apologize… Apologize…”
Claire gasped, and dropped her communicator on her bed. Why would the station be playing that? Of all things?
There was only one thing it could be referring to. Having made first contact several years ago with an alien species named the Roan, the city had reacted.
Violently.
Claire remembered that day. She was told to stay in her apartment and not come out. She could hear the gunshots, the sounds of strange weapons. Even after putting her noise canceling headphones on, she could still hear the sounds of the Roan diplomatic team being attacked.
They had managed to leave in their ship, but not before losing nearly half their people.
The light of the sun disappeared, but it wasn’t the time for new moon. Claire peeked through the blinds.
A warship. With guns on the outside.
Today was the day.