Rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated...

Wow. Has it really been a year? A whole year with no lasting record of where I've been. That's really something. When I last updated I was working my way towards getting a Sol permit. I flew into the jetstream of a neutron star... and then I vanished.

Well, not literally.I mean, lots of people assumed the worst. I even heard rumours on GalNet that I'd fallen victims to the aliens which had been reported this time last year. But I'm still here. Still alive and kicking.

So where the hell have I been? Well, it's been a wild ride. I'm not sure I can remember all of it, but I'll try my best.

Flying into the neutron star was an almost spiritual experience for me. You know how people say they feel entirely different the first time they fly into space and see their home planet floating below them, tiny and fragile in a sea of black? It was a similar experience.

When I realised that I could overcharge my FSD and jump far greater distances than before it made me realise just how vast the galaxy was, and just how little of it I had seen. I drifted along after that, completing military contracts one after the other, almost on autopilot, until I opbtained my Sol Permit.

Old Earth. Where it all began.

Once I'd seen old Earth, and Mars, and Jupiter and Saturn and all of the other stellar bodies I'd read so much about on my travels, I felt strangely empty. All of my energy had been put into this one task, the journey to Sol, obtaining the permit, exploring the system. They say satisfaction is the death of desire, and I finally understand that. I'd made it. I'd reached my goal. If not for the neutron star epiphany, I could have retired and settled down. I certainly wasn't short on cash. But my experience had changed me. I knew deep down that I could never rest. That I had to keep moving.

Neptune seems so peaceful from up here...

The galaxy is VAST. Too big for one man to explore, even if he lived ten lifetimes. But I knew I needed to see as many wonders as I could. I'd seen neutron stars and white dwarfs. I'd heard tales of the incomprehensibly vast hypergiant stars Betelgeuse and VY Canis Majoris. I'd had warnings about losing control near the hypnotic black hole at Maia. I'd listen to crusty veterans talk about their forays to Sagitarius A* at the centre of the galaxy, and of the brave souls who pioneered the charge to set up the distant settlement of Colonia. I heard whisperings of things nobody had ever seen first hand, of the ghosts that wander the galactic rim, the alien civilisation lurking in some deeply forbidden area not too far from the bubble. I needed to see it all.

I decided to see if I could face the loneliness of space for long periods. I loaded up my ship with the biggest fuel scoop I could find, and set off on my first long distance trip, to the hypergiant star, VY Canis Majoris.

Where lies the behemoth

Some 150 jumps later and I was there. One look at the immense star was enough to fill me with awe. As I scooped fuel from the surface of the monster, I thought I heard the star itself whispering to me, moaning. It was an unsettling experience. I took some photos and jumped out, back to the bubble. My mind was made up.

Maia conceals a monster

I drifted aimlessly after that, travellibng where the mood took me, where the rumours took me, where my instincts took me. I had no goal, no plan, I just needed to see everything I could. No time to write, I was just travelling, sleeping where I could before moving on again. I was in serious danger of going insane. After months of this I overheard a conversation over an open comm channel in the Maia system. Space madness was real, and it was a killer. Man out here alone, no mission, no goals? He was done for. I snapped out of my torpor and formulated a plan.

22,000 Light years from the bubble to Colonia. It's going to be a long trip.

I took my savings and I sold my Cobra. I bought a brand new Asp Explorer and kitted it out with an immense fuel scoop and the best frame shift drive I could afford, before embarking on the immense trip to Colonia.