I work at NASA. We are not alone in this universe.

I work for NASA. It's not as romantic as most people make it out to be, being in government service. Most people know about the corruption, and assume the worst about it. Most often, they're right. I'll be the first to say that we do a *lot* of wasteful, stupid shit. But even the laziest piece of shit politicians in DC know where their interests are. When the money faucet turns off, and the public starts demanding answers, shit goes downhill fast. But this isn't about that. <br><br>I work as part of a support team. That means that I don't work directly on a project, I work on the infrastructure surrounding it. The best example I can think of to explain it is an actor and a grip on a movie set. An actor is a vital part of the film, they're the one with the lines, the part, and the presence. A grip works backstage, moving camera, lighting, props, and making sure the actor has what they need. Without one, the other cannot work. It's not the most exciting job, but it's important. <br><br>I'm an electrical engineer, and a pretty good one at that. I'm not a veteran or anything, but I've been in the field a while, so I earn a good paycheck. It pays for my bus ticket, my apartment, and my bar tab on the weekends. For the most part, my work is boring. I fix circuits, replace lights, and update code. I'm not on the team for the software *or* the hardware for the satellites, I'm on the team that makes sure that the people working on the satellites have what they need to do their job. <br><br>That's where this all started. <br><br>I get to work around 7 AM most days. Unless there's a launch or something big going on, I can usually be on my own agenda as long as I'm working on what I'm *supposed* to be working on. I've only been reprimanded a couple times for browsing Chambers at work. Most of the time, I don't get there until 8 or so, because I have a specific routine I like to follow in the morning. <br><br>First, I check the cameras on the satellites. We have a few, and they're all pointed at slightly different places. Most of them are pointed at Earth, and a few in orbit around Mars. The Hubble is a bit different, we have a few trickier angles on that one, so I have to get into the individual cameras. If I'm lucky, I get some really cool shots on some of the cameras. <br><br>That brings me to the point of this story: About six months ago, I noticed a star go out. <br><br>I spent years in college for my masters degree. I took a lot of astronomy classes, because I was an idiot and I minored in it. My parents weren't happy, they wanted me to get a good paying job like my sister the dentist or my brother the lawyer, but I knew that I didn't want that. I loved space. I looked at the stars every night when I was in high school. My grandpa got me my first star chart when I was about ten or so, and after that, I knew it was what I wanted to do. I knew where every constellation was, the names of most of the stars, where they were located, and what types of stars they were. <br><br>So when I saw a star I didn't know, I got a little excited. It was bright, but not too bright. It was a yellow, and it *glowed*. It wasn't just reflecting light like some stars, it was actually generating its own light. It was beautiful. <br><br>I stared at that star for about twenty minutes before I finally looked away. I saved an image of it, and moved on with my day. I couldn't get it out of my head, though. I couldn't stop thinking about it. A new star! I didn't even know it was possible! <br><br>The next day, I started by looking at the star again. It wasn't there. I thought that was a little weird, but oh well. It was probably just a glitch or an anomaly. I saved that image too, and moved on with my work. <br><br>I started noticing more of disappearances. Sometimes it was the same star, sometimes it was a different one. Usually it was in the same part of the sky as the first one, but I've seen it happen in other places. Every time it did, I saved an image. <br><br>I also noticed that the missing stars never came back. Every time a star disappeared, even if it was just for a day, it didn't come back. I had almost one hundred images of missing stars when I decided to show them to someone. <br><br>His name was Jack, and he was an astronomer on one of the teams. He was working on the new telescope design, since the old one was in desperate need of an update. He was one of the few friendly people, and he always said hi. I decided that I would bring him the images, and see if he had any information about the star. <br><br>I caught up with him in the mess hall. I don't usually go in there, but today I did. He was sitting at a table with a few of his coworkers, but he beckoned me over. We chatted for a few minutes, and I asked him about the images. <br><br>"Hey Jack, I wanted to show you something." <br><br>"Oh? What is it?"<br><br>I slid my phone over to him, and he looked at the first image. It was my favorite. It was the first star, and the clearest. He stared for a long time. <br><br>"Where is this?"<br><br>"It's in orbit, about 3 million miles out. I *think* it's pointed at Andromeda, but I'm not entirely sure." <br><br>He nodded. He was silent for a long time, before he turned back to me. <br><br>"You work on the satellites, right?"<br><br>"Yeah, I do. But I wasn't working on this one. I just happened to see it, and I was wondering what it was." <br><br>"Be careful, okay? There's a lot going on that you don't know." <br><br>I was taken aback. What did he mean? <br><br>"Like what?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. <br><br>"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to." He said, and that was all. <br><br>The conversation wasn't really over, but at the same time, it was. I thanked him for his time, and left. <br><br>Two days later, Jack and his entire team were reassigned. They all had new projects, and were suddenly very busy. I tried to talk to him, but he ignored me. <br><br>I noticed that the cameras on the satellites that were pointed at Andromeda were being used a lot more. It was like someone was suddenly interested in them, and looked at them often. I didn't think much of it. Maybe Jack was starting a new project where he needed the cameras pointed that way. Maybe it was just a coincidence. <br><br>Two weeks after that, a few of the cameras on the Mars orbiters went down. It wasn't anything exciting, we just lost the feed. It was probably a solar flare that fried the camera. It was actually kind of surprising that it hadn't happened before, with the size of the flare that had gone off earlier in the year. <br><br>Except for one thing: When the camera feed came back on, it was pointed slightly different. It was pointed at Jupiter. <br><br>I looked at the feed for a while, trying to see if I saw anything. I didn't. But that didn't really mean anything. Most of the time when I looked at the cameras, I didn't see anything. Space is a big place, and the cameras just don't have a very good angle of view. <br><br>Over the past few months, a lot of the cameras have been adjusted. Some of the satellites are pointed at Jupiter, some at Mars, some at Saturn, and some are still pointed at Earth. Most of them are pointed at Andromeda, though. <br><br>Last week, I saw another star go out. <br><br>I'm scared, folk. I'm really, really scared. If there's anyone else in the universe with us, and they're killing off our suns, we're fucked. We have enough problems with the bombs and the nukes, and the global warming. What if they invade? What if they decide to kill us off before they kill our planet? <br><br>I don't know what's going on, and I don't want to know. Like Jack said; it's not a question I want an answer to. <br><br>But I know one thing; if I see anything else, I'm going to post about it here. <br><br>And if I stop making posts, you'll know why.