Oblivion

Oblivion.
Who thought up such a word? A word that harbors so much darkness? So much emptiness?
Someone once told me that in the end, all that is left is oblivion -- that there is nothing out there, that people have tried to know, tried to find out, and have found nothing; we're all that's left, and after us, there's nothing. Nada. Zip. Oblivion. Exactly the way it all started in the first place.
Space, no matter how bright and beautiful it is, will always be just out of our reach.
You know what, though? I think they were wrong. I think they were all wrong! Why? Because they had to be. They have to be!
I know I would rather see a sea of stars and reach for them indefinitely, than wallow in that cold cruel nothing people call Oblivion. I know I'm not alone in my wish, my hope, that there's something else out there; something more than just Oblivion. Something else more than a doomed future!
And I will find it. I will find what else is out there, what's calling to me, just beyond my reach, because I've been entrusted with this task. It is my job, my duty, my life.
I am different from the ones before me. I haven't lost hope.
Who am I? I am the Captain of the S.C.C. Windbreaker Galleon's 25th tour of the Milky Way Galaxy. I am a survivor of the 5732 global Apocalypse. I am the top graduate of the 57-58 class of the Markson and Banks Special Aeropilot Military Academy.
I am Rowena Cleaver. You can call me Rowena.