It was sudden. All communications had ended from the Daedalus-0909 inexplicably. As the space faring communications tower on Anitolia scrambled and yelled for a call back. Anything.
On the radars, they could see that Daedalus-0909 had approached the jumping port and was midway through warping to the next system over. Then the wormhole closed and the positioning port disappeared from off the map. The Daedalus-0909 was still reading as still there.
Miriam, the senior-most communications specialist, shouted for one group to try to get a line on with the port and another to work on comms with Daedalus. Her subordinates scrambled to get back to their stations or take new positions as she murmured under her breath, "This is a cluster fuck."
Days later when Anitolia aligned for a clear trajectory to the port, a scouting vessel was sent. It would be a seven-day week before they would hear any news of the Daedalus and get crew, but the rumors of the ports were coming in hard and fast.
The ports had been crumpled like tin foil. There has not been a survivor yet. And what's worse is that there are no signs of the worm holes. This shocked and terrified many spacers for various reasons, however chief reason among them was that there would be no imports or exports from even the most neighboring systems. The closest being 46 light years away would mean generations of people not able to get the bare necessities of life. There wouldn't even be so much as fresh food coming in and they would starve or worse. Find alternatives.
As the days counted down, the scout returned. He practically fell out of the cockpit disconnecting his gear from the life support systems and unveiled his expressionless face as he stared into the distance. As he was rushed to hear of the news by all, his quiet voice in the crowds kept repeating one word.
"Toothpick..."
Scabs were instructed by the Federacy to relinquish any and all scavenged materials to help offset some burdens for new projects and building materials. Gardeners in were told to give the fruits of their labor to help "the needy" as if they weren't just as needy. The alien fruits and vegetables native to the acidic atmosphere were calorically dense, but in Anatolia, the mega cities just consumed and produced nothing themselves which far outweighed the production of small gardeners on the outskirts of society. Those that knew the old ways of tapping into the crust and drawing water were prized among all others. Especially if they knew of techniques to neutralize the ever present acids.
The double binary suns swung in a slow cosmic dance with their much larger parent as Anatolia sat isolated amid the uninhabitable planets. The asteroid colonies were off little help. And within a year has immigrated back to Anatolia.
Within this year, the world seemed to get smaller. The universe more empty.
But there was a tune being played by an invisible maestro from far away. It sang of death and absolute erasure. One man picked up on the signals and was defrauded as a kook. No one wanted to hear the truth.
Present Day