The Pegasus Mission

My name is Benjamin Carter of the United States of America, last survivor of the Pegasus 11 crew in the International Space Station. The mission launched with six astronauts on December 11, 2027 with the intention to study the electromagnetic signal being picked up from somewhere in the direction of the Andromeda Galaxy. The mission was supposed to last a total of 18 months, during which we would work to discover the origin of the signal and determine the possibility of intentionally direct communication.

We first noticed the object on day 47 of our mission. It was just a small shape, so small and distant that we first regarded it as cosmic debris, but when the pattern of movement was discovered, things got out of hand quickly.

Over the course of the next several weeks, the shape approached the station at alarming speed. On day 79, the captain issued an order that not a single one of us had heard of. It was called the Nibiru Initiative.

"The Nibiru Initiative" he explained, "Is a plan created by the United Nations to be used in the event extra terrestrial contact is made without mankind's initiation. We need to militarize our space station and the earth's military will mobilize. All international disputes are halted by a mutual cease-fire goverened by the UN with the threat of nuclear annihilation of any country that chooses to break the cease-fire before the Nibiru Initiative is ended. Essentially, we now have world peace due to the threat of world destruction."

A palpable silence hung in the air. Eventually, one of my crewmates spoke. "So what do we need to do?"

"We need to focus all our efforts on tracking the alien mass and communicating with it until we can determine the level of hostility. Then we either terminate it or board it."

The last sentence resonated in me like an echo within a cave. We either terminate it or board it. I was about to be a part of a nuclear battle with an alien life form or making physical contact with the first ever intelligent species from another planet. I could tell that my other crew mates felt the same overwhelming combination of fear and excitement.

The next several months were spent tracking the mass, Codename: Nibiru, and trying to send out everything from similar electromagnetic communication to morse-code. We got nothing in response.

It was determined that the object was just larger than Juno, one of Jupiter's moons, and when it was in the orbital path of Mars and we still hadn't successfully made contact, the order was called to send nuclear missiles.

Launch codes were gathered over the next twenty-four hours, but the launch would never occur. Moments before they were supposed to launch the missiles, the United States went radio silent. Soon they were followed by China, the UK, France, North Korea, then our radio finally died. The lights flickered and we all held our breath.

The split second of darkness that followed felt like a lifetime. When the emergency power kicked on we all let out our collective sigh.

"Holy mother of God," someone said.

We all followed the voice to the window where one of the crew members was staring out. It took a moment, then we all realized what had startled him. The lights that symbolized the beacon of humanity in its most populated areas had gone out in the United States.

We watched as other countries followed until the entire earth was nothing more than a black shape.

The next several weeks were spent trying fruitlessly to make contact with planet earth and the Nibiru shape that was fast approaching. When it all seemed hopeless, the captain made a difficult call.

Half of us were to stay on the ISS, and the other half were to take a ship down to evaluate the state of the planet and reestablish contact between the space station and earth.

That was 359 days ago.

I remained on the space station with two other scientists, a man named Mark Tawney, and a woman named Isabel Montoya. Those names, if nothing else, will be forever branded into my mind. When we realized that contact was not going to be established with the other half of th Pegasus crew, and the rations began to dwindle, we drew straws. I drew the short one.

Mark, always the gentleman, took his own life that night. Isabel and I were able to use his corpse as a source of food for a while, but eventually the idea of eating her friend made Isabel take her own life weeks before we planned to.

I've been alone for nearly two months now. I've diligently done my best to make contact with Nibiru, but so far nothing has had success. It's close enough now to cast a shadow on the earth. I imagine I'll be close enough to fly over to it soon and board it, just as the commander had intended.

If God exists, I hope He lets someone find this message.

My name is Benjamin Carter, the last survivor of the Pegasus 11 crew and last known survivor of the human race.