"Ever since the first of us looked up through the waves, we have wanted to go to space. To see the Stars, and touch them.   It's a childish thing , to want to go out among them, sailing the black waves. But everyone knows that it's impossible. Every species that has ever existed has come to the point where they realise that space travel is impossible. Existing in space is something that no species is capable of doing. And they give up. On Keleon, to be a dreamer is pejoratively known as thinking of 'star stuff'. Every species knows that space travel is impossible.   Every species except one. They gird themselves in steel and fibers made simply to keep them alive. They warp themselves in waste recycling units and breathing apparatus. They create machines so large they seem like mountains of iron sitting upon great treads, all to transport their secret to space travel. The thing they use to go out among the stars: A rocket. A great, massive weapon, aimed not at terrestrial enemies or used for bursting into colors like so many Life Day celebrations. No, they strap themselves into the nose cones of rockets, take aim at the endless eternities, and fire.   Where other civilizations stopped, seeing madness and suicide, they saw endless possibility. We only saw the endless eternities. And that was what it was to us. That is why we never became a space faring race. No one did. No one except these brave fools, turning enemies into allies for the sole goal of spreading outwards, discovering. We never would have known we weren't alone in the universe had it not been for them. No other race would have come from the stars. The Gorlic? The Aldeni? The Skweb? No, no other race would have ever dreamed of something so stupid, so suicidal, so dangerous and destructive.   Only the Humans did. And to this day, we thank them. They have given the galaxy it's greatest gift. the ability to gaze into the eyes of what is possible and shout: 'FUCK YOU' " -Hasen fon Risif, Dryzal Spacemonaut Graduation, universal standard date 0207413 Alpha.