The year is 2184. Mankind has taken to the stars. Not for survival. Nor out of need. Simply because we could. We colonized other planets, through trial and error. We made unbreathable worlds into inhabitable places, where we could thrive, and live comfortably. Then came disaster....
An alien race entered our galaxy. We approached them in peace, as was our way. But they attacked... Leaving us no chance to defend ourselves, as we had become complacent. Thinking ourselves to be alone, the only race of intelligent beings, we discarded weapons, save those that we needed to defend ourselves from each other. Even those were barely more than the old guns of the 21st and 22nd centuries... And so, from this other race's greed (we never knew there name, never got chance to find out), we were almost destroyed.

The year is now 2503... We have come a long way since then. Small pockets of human life carried on somehow. The alien race, thinking us wiped out, moved on to other galaxies, other universes, to wreak their havoc. We didn't know where they came from, and we don't know where they went, or if they will return. If they do we must be ready...
We have rebuilt some of our civilization, grasped back some of our past, taken back to the stars once again...
We are the future...
- Prof. Tim Mackenzie, Chief Historian, Galactic Council