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