Journey's End

I'm sat in a mining colony in a hollowed out asteroid at a remote deep space outpost called Morgan's rock, watching a team of mechanics fix up the Heidegger. I made it back to civilisation. Sort of. I'm still over four thousand light years from Sol, but there was one point at which I might never make it back alive.

The Great Annihilator

 After leaving Sagittarius A*, I headed to The Great Annihilator, the largest black hole in the galaxy (besides the monster at the centre of course). From there I headed up to the very roof of the galaxy, Atlas II, some fifteen-hundred light years above the galactic plane. The views were spectacular, a black void above me and the glaring disc of the galaxy below. I felt like a king. As I headed for the Gru Hypai Stellar Remnant (a planetary nebula with a black hole at its centre), my mind started drifting back, thinking about the wonders I had seen since leaving Colonia. I started thinking how long it had been since I saw another human being.

The inside of the Gru Hypai Stellar Remnant was serenely beautiful

Not a bad way to spend the night

While drifting through the Gru Hypai Stellar Remnant system, I checked the distance to Sol - nearly fourteen thousand light years. I checked somne of the star chart data I'd picked up from the tourist office at Jaques Station in Colonia and skimmed over to find points of interest on the way back. There was another planetary nebula, this time surrounding a Wolf-Rayet star about three thousand light years away, deep below the galactic plane. I plotted a course and set off.

I named this system "Father and Son"

 The last twenty or so jumps were mostly neutron-boosted and heading mostly straight down. I supercharged my frame shift drive and hit the hyperspace engage to jump the 103 light years into the system. The system itself was eerily beautiful, everything within a few thousand lightseconds of the star bathed in a purple glow. I put down planetside and got some sleep.

The faint light from the distant star made sleep strangely restless.

 When I woke up I tried to plot a course for the pulsar PSR J1709-4429. "Cannot find route" said the ship's navigational computer. Huh? Weird. Try again. "Cannot find route". OK... Maybe it's too far away? I plotted a course for a closer star. "Cannot find route". OK this was getting beyond a joke now. I plotted a course for the next system along... And then realised with horror what was happening.

Trying to think rationally on this ghostly purple world was nigh impossible

I had neutron boosted into the system, a distance of a hundred and three light years. My maximum jump range is just over twenty five light years. The closest star was thirty one light years away. The nav computer couldn't play a route because I couldn't get out of the system. I was stranded.

Panic kicked in. I started frantically scouring the galaxy map, hoping to find a closer star, one I could reach. The only ones even remotely in range took me even further below the galactic plane. This was bad. This was very bad.

I was so far below the galactic plane there was virtually nothing below me

 I sat for a long time weighing up my options. I thoguht about the crazy spacehead explorers I'd met in bars around the bubble, the old cranks who had hit elite status and just kept on going, never satisfied with the sights they'd seen, always wanting to see more. Would I never get to be like them? At this rate I probably had a few days of power left, maybe a week if I shut down non-essential functions. But after that, I'd be dead. I'd never be that grizzled old guy I met in Hutton Orbital, handing out spacefaring tips in exchange for drinks.

"Never fly tired," he'd say, or "make sure you take more than one auto-field repair unit," or "never fly without Jumponium."

Wait! That was it! I had been gathering so much material from the planets surface, I MUST have enoguh to synthesize some Jumponium. "Jumponium" isn't a scientific term. It's something the spacers came up with. Basically, if you mix the right quantities of vernadium and germanium, and inject it into your frame shift drive, you can extend your jump range by twenty five percent. I wasn't sure of the specific amounts, but I had enough resources to try. I fed the materials into the synthesis module and whispered a silent prayer to the universe.

One of these was my only ticket out of here...

 I targeted the next system along, a main sequence star thirty one light years away. If this went ewrong, there was a good chance my ship would explode. But then if I didn't try, I was dead anyway. Hands shaking, I engaged the hyperdrive.

I made it to the next system in one piece. I scanned the galaxy map. There was a neutron star nearby! If I could get to that system, the jet cones might be able to boost me back up to an area more densely populated with stars. I checked the distances. Thirty eight light years. That was too far, even with the injected vanadium and germanium. Think, Karl, think! What had the old guy said? "If yer lucky, you can boost your output by fifty percent. You'll need some extra materials though."

On the hunt for materials

What were the materials I needed? Vanadium and germanium I remembered. Cadmium. That was another. What was the last one? Began with N... Nickel? No, too common. This was rare... NIOBIUM! YES! I checked the stores. I had enough for one injection. If this didn't work, I was a dead man. I injected the materials and hit the hyperdrive... And nothing happened! Panic gripped me again, before I realised I had not pliotted the route to the neutron star. Would have been just my luck to find a solution to this mess then die of a heart attack. I plotted the route, hit the hyperdrive, and jumped.

Once I arrived at the neutron star I tried plotting the course to PSR J1709-4429 and breathed a sigh of relief as the route appeared. I was back on the map.

The asteroid base of Morgan's Rock

After a long and fairly uneventful trip the rest of the way, I finally pulled into the dock at Morgan's Rock. I called the mechanics to service my ship and headed to the Universal Cartographics bulletin board to sell my exploration data. For the second time, I almost had a heart attack. one hundred million credits. That's how much they paid me. A hundred mil! I almost had enough in the bank to buy a bloody Anaconda! The icing on the cake was the message that pinged up from the Pilots' Federation, informing me that I'd been promoted to "Pioneer". I was one step away from Elite...

Safely back in civilization

 I flopped down onto a bench in the hangar bay, and wondered what my former self would say if I showed up a year ago and told him that in a year's time he'd have travelled sixty thousand light years and be worth a hundred and sixty million credits. I think he'd probably laugh. That's what I'm doing.

A just reward for the trials I've gone through.

Repairs on the ship will take a while. When she's ready to go I have plans to visit the Guardian Ruins and Crab Nebula. But right now, I'm going to have a shower.

Until next time, Fly safe.

The Call of the Void

I did it. I made it. I achieved a goal I had scarcely thought possible. I made it to the centre of the galaxy. The journey was long, and somewhat arduous, but eventually all things must come to an end. My heart was pounding in my chest as I engaged the hyperdrive and jumped into Sagittarius A*. I was greeted with equal parts unfathomable beauty and utmost terror.

At the centre of our galaxy lies a monster. The super-massive black hole, Sagittairus A*. It's impossible to look at, but the extent of the warping of space due to gravitational lensing seemed larger than the radius of most stars. I pointed my ship towards the centre and stared into the void for what seemed like an eternity.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing

I was snapped out of my trance by the ship's FSD failsafe dropping me out of supercruise. I was smashed back into standard thrust. I looked down at my hands, disoriented. My throttle was on full. I had tried to fly directly into the eye of the Abyss. An ancient Earth philospher wrote: "And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." I had no idea what those words meant until now.

I pulled my thoughts together and steered away from the singularity. I noticed there was a nav beacon so I pointed myself at it so I could scan it for information. When I dropped out of supercruise next to the beacon I saw a passenger liner filled with tourists. Imagine that; the greatest journey I have ever undertaken, the trials and tribulations which led to this point, and here was a bunch of bloody tourists cheapening it. No. No, they can't take my achievement away from me.

I've seen wonders those tourists can't imagine

I pulled away from the nav beacon and skirted the edge of the event horizon. I could swear the black hole was whispering to me. It was a deeply unsettling experience. I pointed my ship away and towards the distant blue-white star at the far end of the syste,. grimacing as I left the influence of the black hole and the light from the stars warped back around me and gradually returned to normal.

I'd achieved my goal. The exoperience had nearly cost me everything. I nearly lost my mind. But I'm still here, changed but otherwise unscathed. And there's so much more to see. I plotted a course for the Great Annihilator system and hit the hyperdrive, breathing a sigh of relief as the voices in my head faded to silence.

Who knows where my journey will take me next

The Final Push

I woke up on the planetoid SCHEE FLYI JV-G C26-1337 AB 1 E A (catchy name, I know) to the briught glow of the milky way. It's strange, the glow from the stars almost seemed brighter than the light of the sun last night. I was feeling pretty good so decided to go for a quick morning flight through some of the canyons. After a little while I noticed something twinkling in the distance. Originally I thought that this was the starlight reflecting off mineral outcroppings, but when I got closer I realised that the mountain was on fire.

The field of fire

All across the canyon floor and right up the sides of the cliffs, vents in the rock belched out gas and liquid rock. It was quite a spectacle, and one for which I was not truly prepared. I'd heard stories of the geysers and fumeroles that explorers had found dotted about the landscape, but the story they told is that I'd have a better chance of getting a date with Aisling Duval than just randomly happening across them. Well, I guess remind me to look up Princess Duval when I get back to the bubble, because here I'd stumbled across a whole field of fire.

OK so I didn't get OUT of the SRV to heat up the water, I'm not STUPID.

I parked up next to one and decided to heat some water to cook some porridge (yeah yeah, call me sentimental, call me old fashioned, I don't care. I heated the oats and sat back in my SRV, just smiling at the wonders the universe had shown to me. I thought back to the decision I'd made to leave Worlidge Terminal over a year ago, considered how far I'd come since then, the adventures I've had, and realised it was the best decision I ever made. I think sometimes the best course of action is cutting free and getting out, even if it feels like you're running away at first. Knowing that I can never go back is what keeps me driving forward.

Ever onward. It's the only way I know.

I plotted a course. I should reach the centre in a day. After that... Well, that's a bridge I'll burn when I get there.

On to the Centre...

I realised that I would do no good trying to fly back to the bubble to help. By the time I reach the burning stations, the people will either be rescued, or they'd be dead. There's no doubt in my mind that the Thargoids will attack again, but I have to wonder about their motivation. If they wanted to kill everyone, they could easily have done that. I even wonder deep down if the Thargoids are the "evil alien" race they're made out to be. I mean, humans have been killing each other for thousands of years, that doesn't mean all humans are evil. What if the Thargoids involved in the attack were a bunch of finge extremists? I think it's too easy to generalise; the actions of a few do not show the motivations of all. What we need is study and communication. I just hope others see it that way.

I discovbered this Water World not long asfter I set off.

And so here I am, camped out on a planet 150 jumps from Sagittarius A*. This will be the fiurthest I've travelled without stopping at a base - remember the jaunt to Colonia consisted of seven legs. Once I reach the centre... I'm not sure what to do. I plan on visiting the Great Annihilator, which is on the way back to the bubble. But do I really want to go straight back there? I've discovered so much out here.

The ring system alone was breathtaking

 I discovered my first Ammonia world at a system in the Kyloaln region. It was strangely berautiful, like a sepia-toned Earth, with an enormous, extensive ring system surrounding it As I scanned the surface I felt my heart race. The sensors had detected life! There were carbon- and ammonia-based life forms on the planet. If only the standard planetary approach suite allowed flight into atmosphere, what wonders would have greeted me when I flew down there?

My sepia-toned Earth

I stared long at the planet and contemplated the arrogance of man. Who are we to say we are the dominant force in the galaxy? Who are we to wipe out entire species on a whim, to provide a new colony as we spread like a disease across the galactic disc? Perhaps being out alone in space for this long is starting to get to me. Perhaps if I do get back to the bubble I might take an extended rest. The stars know I'll be able to afford it on the money I'll make from Universal Cartographics.

I'm going to watch the moon above me until the eerie twilight of the galactic core eases me to sleep.

Disaster

The Thargoids attacked today. I saw it on the news feeds, stations on fire in the Pleiades. Bodies vented into space. The screams, the desperation, Oh gods it was awful. There's people still trapped on those stations, desperately trying to get out. And here I am, 21,000 light years away. I can't help them. All I can do is watch the news feeds and grind my teeth in rage. I should be there. I should be helping out, not sat around planning the next leg of my stupid journey of self discovery.

 

I guess I'm not totally useless though. Over the last few days I've been helping out prepare the colonies for the inevitable influx of refugees that will come drifting ion shortly. I expect there will be far more than expected. But we managed to shift 800,000 tonnes of equipment in preparation. Humans are best when they work together, and nothing brings people together quite like a disaster.

My Type 6 Hauler.

 I just hope this conflict doesn't degenerate into interstallar war. Because honestly, against the Thargoids, I don't think we could win.

My new home... For now

I did it. I made it to Colonia. My first long distance trip and I'm in one piece. And so is the ship!

It's taken a week of travel time, and I've seen some wonders along the way. I've been the first to discover entire systems. One of them even contained an Earth-Like planet. A potential world for people to inhabit, and I was there first.

I don't know if it's customary to name these when you discover them. "Elpis" seems a fitting name

I've seen things I never even imagined I'd encounter, like the Earth-like orbiting a neutron star at EORD FLYUAE BN-1 D10-4705. But the strangest thing I encountered was out in a previously undiscovered system, BOEWNST FY-F B44-72. There's not much there; scoopable star, and a braown dwarf and mostly balls of rock. But on the moon of the 5th planet, my SRV's wave analyser started picking up a strange signal. At first I thought it was on the blink. I mean I'm really only just getting the hang of reading these things. But nevertheless, I followed it to the source, where I discovered this:

It was emitting a constant audio signal

What the hell is this thing? It's too big to be an escape pod, it looks too smooth and sleek to be a ship, and besides a ship that small couldn't have gotten this far into space on its own. Even if it had gotten lost in part of a convoy or something, it's standard practice to scan systems as you travel and this one was undiscovered. It was definitely man-made, judging from the lettering on the side. I took a scan of the mysterious object and headed off into the black.

If I'd had my wits about me I would have recorded the signal

Later on I found myself in another neutron star systema nd flew into the jet streams for a boost. As I tried to jump out to DRYIO FLYUAE FN-J D9-561 my blood turned to ice. "FSD Malfunction", my ship computer calmly said. No, no, no, without a FSD this far out I was dead. Those old Bowmen back in the bubble had warned me of the dangers of neutron jumping, but everythiong had been fine up to now. I tried again and hit witchspace.

When I arrived at my destination I checked the diagnostics on my FSD. 77%. Not great. Thanksfully I had seen fit to equip two autorepair modules, so I had the drive (and my other systems) fixed up in no time. The rest of the trip was nice and smooth, but to be honest I was mostly just jumping and honking and jumping and honking. I wanted to get back to civilisation as fast as I could in order to get the Heidegger checked out.

As deadly as it is beautiful

When I finally reached Colonia, I felt a huge rush of satisfaction. I headed for the nav bouy, and a thought popped into my head. Buoys are bigger than escape pods, but smaller than most ships, right? I got as close as I could, and that solved the mystery of BOEWNST FY-F B44-72 A 5 A - It was a crashed nav buoy!

But wait... What the HELL was a nav buoy doing crashed on the moon of the fifth planet of an uninhabited, undiscovered system a thousand light years from civilization? I'm going to have to look into this weirdness in more depth when I have time. Right now though, here I am, in Colonia, twenty-two thousand light years from where I started. It'll do as home for now.

 The problem now is that I'm in danger of succumbing to the "Bowman's Blues" - that feeling of depression that explorers get after returning home from a long trip. It makes sense; You've put all your energy into a goal, you've worked and worked towards that goal, sometimes running on empty, but the desire to reach your goal is what keeps you going. And once you achieve it... there's nowhere for that energy to go, not even a need to generate it. So you sink. You don't have the will to start a new expedition, and going back to a "normal" life seems impossible.

While browsing the Galnet feeds I found one way to combat this. With all the talk of Thargoids down in the Pleiades, many people from the bubble have been fleeing to Colonia. The systems are currently unable to cope with this many people coming in and are desperately trying to set up refugee shelters, but they need all of the equipment to be centralised in one place. They're apparently desperate for evac shelters, auto-fabs and power generators. When I saw this I knew I could help out. I put the Heidegger into storage and bought a Lakon Type-6 Transporter. Christened the Northamptonshire, she can carry one hundred tons of cargo and has a respectable jump range of 20 light years unladen.

I did my last mission for me. My next mission is for the people.

The End is in Sight

I docked last night at Polo Harbour and started preparing for the final leg of my journey to Colonia. I can get there in about 100 jumps. I lay back in the observation room and looked up at the night sky. Here in the midst of the Venetian Nebula the stars are packed in so densely they're everywhere. The bright glow from the galactic core serves as a backdrip to a million beacons of light against the dark. As I taak it all in, I considered the journey from Gagarin Gate.

I'm starting to get the hang of this Selfie lark

I'd taken a little detour at the start of my foray from Gagarin Gate, in order to visit the system GRU HYPUE AA-A G4, known to some travellers as Jo Ella's Flares. It's a dead system. Literally. No planets, and all four stars in the system have collapsed. At the centre a black hole and and angry pulsar orbit each other, with two more neutron stars slightly further out. Black holes have interested me ever since my trip to Maia and I find myself drawn to them like a moth to flame.

It's difficult to get a photo of a black hole, for obvious reasons...

I headed closer. And closer, and closer - mere kilometres away from the singularity as the light began to warp around me. As before with Maia I became suddenly terrified. The fear as you approach a black hole is like nothing I can describe. It's an existential fear of a scale of magnitude rarely experienced. You feel concern for the essence of your very soal as you approach. I don't think I'd call it a pleasant experience in and of itself, but as you boost away from the tiny yet all encompassing monstrous lurking horror you feel more alive than ever. Will I feel the same when I see Sagitarius A*?

I will never tire of neutron stars

I used the jetstreams of the netron stars to supercharge my engines and left Jo Ella's flares behind.

In astronomical terms, they're practically touching

When I arrived in the Nuekuae LW-M D7-20 system I was greeted with a full system unexplored by anyone. Ever eager to carve out my name across the galaxy, I started tagging and bagging. Eventually I came across an extraordinary sight: two ice planets who were orbiting each other so closely I initially thought that they were touching! I grabbed some photos and landed on the surface of the larger of the two (I say larger - its diameter was only some twenty kilometres more than its partner) in oder to do some exploration and just take in the wonder of it all. Here I was, the first person ever to see this beautiful sight. It's moments like these which define why I am addicted to exploration.

The rest of the trip was fairly standard - I found some familiar but beautiful sights like a binary star system and multi-ringed metal planets, and just smiled at the feeling inside. When I fianlly touched down at Polo Harbour, I received a promotion to Ranger. I plotted the course to Jacques Station before I went to bed. My journey was almost over.

Or was it about to truly begin?

Past the point of no return

I'm camped out on a rocky planetoid somewhere more than ten thousand light years from Sol. I'm past halfway to Colonia. There's no turning back now. Sitting back in the Heidegger (That's what I've decided to name my trusty Asp Explorer), I try to contemplate the fact that I am probably the only living thing that exists for billions of miles in all directions, and the only thing between me and instant death is a thin sheet of plexiglass. It's a sobering thought.

Home from Home

The haul from Eagle's landing to Sacaqawea Spaceport was the longest single leg of my journey. It was five thousand light years - took me two days when factoring in the extra time to scan new systems. I've made so many first discoveries on this journey. So many, in fact that they start to lose all meaning. I'm alone out here and I think it's starting to get to me.

I was the first person to ever set foot on this world.

I didn't spend long at Sacaqawea. I'm going through something right now, I can feel it. I've spent so long alone with the universe that talking to other people before I reach my destination is anathema. I just hope that When I DO reach colonia I'm able feel normal again. Right now I barely feel human.

I got some two hundred and fifty light years from Sacaqawea before I fell asleep mid jump. I woke suddenly, covered in sweat, the angry alarms shrieking at me "WARNING! TEMPERATURE CRITICAL! TAKING HEAT DAMAGE!" My view port was filled with blinding orange light as I streaked full throttle towards a K class star.

Getting trapped between two stars is never a pleasant experience

Barely able to think, I zeroed the throttle and yanked the stick back. The ship had already emergency dropped from supercruise and I knew I wouldn't last long this close to the star. I dropped a heat sink, alighned to my escape vector and punched the FSD. Once I got away from the star I slowed and turned so that I could view the nemesis which almost claimed my life.

And I witnessed something incredible.

Coronal Mass Ejection

I'm sure the seasoned explorers reading this will scoff, but this was the first time I had witnessed a coronal mass ejection (CME) first hand. Sure, I'd seen solar prominences countless times, but actually seeing the stellar mass being spurted out into space? It was breathtaking. The sight made me reflect on all the moments the universe had amazed me since I left Worlidge Terminal over a year ago. White Dwarfs. Neutron Stars. The system where life began. And then I realised how little of the galaxy I'd seen, and what other treasures lay in store for me to discover. This journey has changed me, and will continue to change me, and that's exactly why I need to do it.

I won't ever be the same.

I'll sign off with a quote from my ship's namesake:

"Tanscendence constitutes selfhood" - Martin Heidegger

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/martin_heidegger_363004

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/martin_heidegger_363004

If I take death into my life, acknowledge it, and face it squarely, I will free myself from the anxiety of death and the pettiness of life - and only then will I be free to become myself.
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/authors/martin_heidegger

Deep into that darkness peering...

I was all set. I had a renewed purpose. I had an upgraded ship. It was time. I said a silent farewell to civilisation and jumped out of the bubble.

Destination: Colonia. The furthest outpost of humanity, some 25,000 light years distant. That's an unfathomable distance, even in this age of frame shift drives and faster-than-light travel. But it is not an impossible distance. Given enough time I can get there. Many people have made the journey. Many have failed, but more have made it to Colonia in one piece. I had a route plotted, and I was confident. I still AM confident.

My journey consists of seven legs:

1. From the bubble to Hillary Depot in Blu Thua AI-A c14-10
2. Hillary Depot to Amundsen Terminal in Lagoon Sector NI-S b4-10
3. Amundsen Terminal to Eagle's Landing in Eagle Sector IR-W d1-117
4. Eagle's Landing to Sacagawea Spaceport in Skaudai CH-B d14-34
5. Sacagawea Spaceport to Gagarin Gate in Gru Hypue KS-T d3-31
6. Gagarin Gate to Polo Harbour in Boewnst KS-S c20-959
7. Polo Harbour to Jacques Station in Colonia  

It's not going to be an easy trip, each leg is in excess of 2,000 light years. But I have a decent FSD and two Automatic Repair Modules. I think I'll be OK...

On the surface of some system somewhere

During the first leg I got overcome by wanderlust and explored a great many systems in a LOT of detail. I landed on a rocky planetoid in the Synuefe ara and mined some nickel. I honked in SWOILZ ZV-C D67A and the scan showed up ninety three celestial objects! I travelled 123,000 lightsecobnds in one system just to scan a distant sun... Then I realised if I spent this long all the way there I might never reach my destination!

On the surface of another planet somewhere

However, it's easy to fall into a routine when you're jumping long distance. And routine brings a lack of focus. Out in the black, a lack of focus can kill. I nearly burnt to a crisp jumping out of SWOILZ KK-A C3-29-A, as I span up the FSD way too close to the sun and didn't even think to drop heatsinks. To make matters worse, the next system I jumped into had its entry point in between two large and very hot stars! I got out in one piece, but a lot of my systems were more than a little crispy...

Make sure you bring plenty of heatsinks. You never know when you'll need them.

When I got closer to Hillary Depot I started exploring the systems more thoroughly. I managed to find a system which had never been logged by anyone. I spent a good while scanning all of the stellar bodies - Universal Cartographics paid me handsomely for those (I wonder if I'll be able to afford an Anaconda by the time I get back? I guess I can dream, right?)

I made a few million selling this data...

I got a promotion to Pathfinder after selling my data to Universal Cartographics

After a quick overnight in Hillary Depot I headed off to Amundsen Terminal. The journey was fairly similar. I took many photos of the planets I explored and the stunning views of the Lagoon Nebula.

The Lagoon Nebula in all its glory. Pictures can't do it justice

I'm currently at Amundsen and plotting my route for the next leg. I'm going to try something risky. There's at least one neutron star on the way to Eagle's landing. If I charge my FSD in its streams, I might be able to cut down my journey time... If I survive.

On approach to Amundsen Station