The trio of sleek black ships at the end of the pier look far too futuristic to be docked to the large industrial arms. If you stare hard enough, you could just about see the huge engines protected by inches of entropy shielding, with the smaller conventional fusion drives mounted almost as an afterthought.

The media are waiting, of course, holocameras cross-focused on us as we stand at the podium and the captain gives her speech. I wonder how my family feel. I sent them a video message, but my father is an old-school man and hates the holograph screen. I won’t have much of a chance to tell him when we’re flying through space strapped to the alien engines, that’s for sure.

The podium looks so out of place, elegant red carpet and the floating lectern in among the cargo crates and fuel tanks and robotic arms with hissing pneumatics swinging everywhere in crazy arcs.

“… and though we prepare to journey into the great unknown, our hearts remain here with our families and our friends.”
Amen to that.