Much like when the news of 9/11 was on television and people were standing around, transfixed, I was milling around some government office with my children, all jovial when the mood turned decidedly chilly. I was unaware of why, but continued to hear the words broadcast, "The situation will soon escalate" or something to that effect. I looked over the shoulders of the military men leaning over a viewscreen table to see our own flying aircraft carriers and NATO delta-wing aircraft being eclipsed by enormous, alien flying machines a thousand time their size...just before the aliens started firing on our military, decimating it in moments.
I was in a cavernous warehouse (of course) where smartly dressed humaniod foremen instructed and monitored our every move. We were manufacturing something for them using their alien materials and alien technology (it was kind of a lightweight honeycombed material) which required a lot of manually intensive labor, presumably why we were engaged. But it was less like a labor camp and more like a manufacturing plant - we had scheduled breaks, a cafeteria, dormitories, daycare facilities - it was normal life, excepting the line mangers were actually uniformed aliens who looked human.
Which was also rather suspicious to me. I mean, I understood the idea of benevolence in creating a high-work ethic environment - and it was working - happy little worker bees just having a job to do and doing it, but it felt like something else was at play. I started to excel at my job - showing interest and ownership - in order to get noticed. I wanted to be promoted, which happened fairly regularly now that I was on their radar, and learned more and more about what they were building, and why. But that wasn't the important part to me. No, I learned there was a cadre of high-ranking human managers who had formed a resistance, and I was brought into that circle.
They had even managed to secure a cache of bones from a deceased alien. I was giddy because they were like our bones only far lighter and far more delicate looking; like strands of spun glass in a bone-shaped framework. I felt for sure having this knowledge meant we could easily crush them and regain control of our planet.
Only they weren't nearly as fragile as they looked. In fact, those bones were damn near indestructible. Was all hope lost?