Exploration promotion - Data analysis

A compilation of some of the statistics from the journey to Sagittarius A* and back again. Promotion jumped from Pathfinder(54%) to Ranger (67%).

The journey

• Start date: 10th June 3301
• Returned on: 8th July 3301
• Days travelled: 29

There were times when it felt longer, however the company was excellent and the time passed in a most agreeable way.

• Systems visited: 2204
• Systems newly discovered: 613
• Distance travelled (estimated): 55,000 Ly

The number of newly discovered systems is lower then I'd thought for, and it turns out that the Pilot's Federation only counts the system if there is a deep scan of a body in it. In my interest in getting somewhere else, and if there wasn't anything worth the time then there was no deep scan. Something to bear in mind for the next trip out.

• Hull damage: 6%
• Total cost of repairs (ships systems): 6,490Cr
• Ship integrity: 4%, 18,191Cr repair
• Paintwork remaining: 3%
• Heatsinks used: 3

I can see why the Diamondback Explorer is a popular ship for exploration. The repair bill has been quite respectably low, and the ship resilient to heat issues.

Special bodies found

The number and types of special bodies that were scanned can be summarised as:

Type	Count
Earth-like Worlds (ELW)	10
Water worlds (WW)	55
Neutron Stars	45
Black Holes	21
Herbig Ae/Be	11
Wolf-Rayet	1
S-Type	1

• Total credit for all exploration data: 32.95MCr
• Time taken to sell exploration data: 82 minutes

While I'm sure that there are a lot more Earth-likes and water worlds that could have been explored, their placement in the system would have made them time prohibitive. Also there are a few black holes in there that have already been well visited by other commanders: Sagittarius A* and The Great Annihilator spring to mind.

Several ELW have already picked up names where no-one else has visited. The first found was named Charybdis: quite naturally and without any vanity in exploration involved at all. After that additional names followed such as Triffid, Cupid, Fueleus Ratteus, Fiji, and Cuchulainn as discoveries were offered out to other commanders for naming.


Some of the rather special systems found:

• The Three Graces were at Phroi Pri VU-V d3-1246 and not too far from Sagittarius A*.
• An S-type star in Phroi Pri WU-V d3-1033
• The littlest nebula of NGC 6153 was at CD-39 10464 with a Wolf-Rayet star.

If you're ever in the area then they're worth a visit.

Although there are many ELWs in the galaxy this one caught my eye, having a lovely triple sun in its sky.

The escort home

A favourite pastime of explorers is the canyon run, something that seems to draw us like moths to a flame. The rules are simple enough to comprehend and, with a data bank full of exploration data, the risk can also be high. There are brave and smart ways to run the canyon. But many more stupid ones as well. A few are even unlucky.

Find a binary star system where the two stars are close together. Very close together. Tweak your heat management to start as low as possible, line up for the gap in between and then try to push through. The fuel scoop will engage but that's the least of your worries. The heat rises and rises while you slow down in the gravity well of both stars, making it feel like wading through molasses.

The only sweet thing is when you get out the other side both intact and without damage. You feel like you want to get out and push the ship to safety: to a point where radiative heat works in your favour to take away the heat instead of heavily piling on more.

It always helps to have something to aim for. Trying to kill your friends isn't one of them though.

750 light years from civilised space.

Before embarking on this journey I used to think all humanity occupied a huge volume of space. Now I'm not so sure. Ingenuity means that there are many systems where we can live and work, although the edges are pretty rough. After this trip I know can jump across human space in around half an hour.

We're very densely packed in and that feels so very small now.

I'd like to say that the hands grasping the throttle and joystick are steady, but that wouldn't be true. The last time I saw another human being was in the cockpit of another ship at Sagittarius A* over two weeks ago. For this last leg of the voyage I bring friends with me though, and that'll make all the difference.

Friends in combat ships and prepared to take on any trouble that shows an interest in this much exploration data. I'm glad they're going to be there as I'm feeling more fragile now than at any time out there beyond the human bubble of space.

The elements are somewhat more predictable after all, and don't bear a grudge either.

The first challenge however is meeting up just outside the bubble, and a likely candidate system pops up: my choice of HIP 71462, and it just so happened to have an inconvenient and tight binary star formation. For me its passing through the Lupus Dark Regions to get there and I'm third to arrive. Dropping out of witchspace and it's damn good to see two combat capable ships from the wing waiting for me: a Vulture and a Cobra.

Old habits die hard and, after completing a quarter orbit of the nearest sun while checking my heat levels, can't help but dive my ship through the gap between the stars. Peaking at 97% and then falling away that will be the last canyon run for me before docking.

We dance around the stars like fireflies: bright pinpoints of light in space. There's a short wait while our last companion reaches the meeting point.

The Python's exit from witchspace travels visibly on the scanner over the last few thousand light seconds as the ships slows down and comes to a virtual stop. The jump exit point has bisected the binary stars dangerously, and that ship now nestles deeply in between them trying to push itself out. Involuntarily running hot and even hotter with nowhere to dump waste heat from the jump, and much more flooding in.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck as the comms comes to life squawking temperature readings. "93...98...100...110...127...at least the fuelscooping is done!" There's a pause that just runs on longer than it should and then the ship emerges, accelerating away: "Ah... just a bit of heat damage, it's minor and no problem."

That was downright unlucky. That's a wry smile on my part though: he's been calm under fire and a complete professional about the whole thing.

Dropping back into normal space we all form up to take a look at each other's ships. The Python looks fine, though for the rest of the journey I'm pretty much convinced that I can see or hear bits falling off from heat stress.

You know its time to start moving on when pilots flying fast, agile and well shielded ships take it upon themselves to zip around and in-between those that are still parked up.

I've previously run escort for a returning explorer and now that favour is kindly being returned, and so we plan the remainder of the journey based on what we learnt the last time. The Diamondback has the largest jump range of all and could easily outrun the escort, so a more practical wing formation is needed.

We pick up on the strategy that we used last time to good effect with 4 vessels: the lead ship with the shortest jump range plans the route and jumps onward first. Then the escorted ship, and finally followed by the 2 remaining. It means that there was always a ship in the system to assist and cover, and the 1-1-2 formation made sure this was always true.

Post-op review refined it down to a 1-2-1 diamond backed formation giving more ships with the escorted. We learn and refine.

A python pilot's concern: does my wake look big in this?

Practice and preparation count for a very great deal, and escorting valuable goods across occupied space carries its own kinds of tension. A destination recommended by a fellow explorer was our target: the Dohkwithi system has an Alliance Orbis station within only a few tens of light seconds from the sun, minimizing risk all round.

We set out knowing where we had to go and what we had to do.

So I wasn't quite sure how to feel when it was strangely quiet and uneventful, and went down without a single hitch.

Every ship that we saw showed a masterful disinterest in what was going on. Everyone went about their business and declined to stick their nose into ours. Exactly what was wanted and hoped for. But I still can't help but feel that I would have liked to give my bodyguards something to point their trigger fingers at.

Arriving in Dohkwithi we formed up around the station and took group photos of the safe return. Immense relief on my part now safely at the end of this journey, and grateful for the support of friends.

Then for something that no-one else could help me with. I had to remember how to dock.

For the moment there is exploration data to unload, around 2200 systems worth. A quick scan through GalNet to catch up shows that I might just have found my next calling. A coded message perhaps, but if so then not very subtle.

Now how might they have known I was back?

With thanks to CMDR Sturmwaffel (Python), CMDR Paws (Vulture), and CMDR Unrealization (Cobra) for providing escort and fine company back into (un)civilized space. Also to those who joined us in TeamSpeak for the journey on the way (you know who you are).

The littlest nebula

One last item piqued my interest on the way back. NGC 6153 is a curiosity, of that there's no doubt.

The star charts report it as a "planetary nebula" - one that is only around one light year across - and the expanding remnants of an old red star. Viewed from the nearest system the size of the nebula is quite apparent and, despite the name, there is no connection with planetary objects here. The composition is highly unusual and very nitrogen rich, suggesting that the star originated in another part of this galaxy.

There are enough explorers out there now to make a search for the origin of this star will happen, at least in breadth of the galaxy if not in depth.

Easily missed on the map, it has a characteristic emission profile that draws attention. The chemical spectra are coming back with neon, argon, oxygen, chlorine and carbon at far higher levels than expected from the local neighbourhood.

The Wolf-Rayet at the centre of the planetary nebula is also a common feature of this kind of phenomenon. With most of the outer core gone the inner body carries the remaining heavier elements. Incredibly hot, and emitting much of its light into the ultra-violet.

The Pillars of Creation

Having seen a fair few number of water worlds and Earth like planets so far, it still surprises me that there is a tug at the heart strings when I find another. A glimpse at the possibilities, the opportunities, and the paths that life might take.

A reminder of the origin system, still over 7000Ly away. Having spent most of my life largely ignoring it while in easy travel, perhaps I have come to appreciate it more from this distance.

There is no lack of interesting things to find out here.

Just as worlds are a birthplace for life, so the stars themselves must also have their own stellar nursery. That life births into existence, struggles and fights to survive, grows old, and then dies is a familiar thing. Harder to imagine for stars where the scale is over billions of years, and our lives are ephemeral by comparison. Mankind didn't even exist as a species when these stars entered the galaxy.

The Eagle Nebula is actively birthing new stars, a bright cluster burning incandescent in the sky. A search through those stars will reveal much about early solar system, the formation of planets and the other ancillary bodies that are left over.

The scientists are always keen to obtain more information and run comparisons since the last visit by an explorer. There have been quite a few explorers in this part of space, as markers from previous visitors are plainly visible.

Inside Eagle Nebula and looking towards the birthing stars

Stars born from the remnants of a dead supernova at the Eagle Nebula

Leaving the Eagle Nebula behind, and running parallel to the bright cluster of stars reborn anew.

That tug at the heartstrings is growing rather strong now. Only one more detour before making the run back to the bubble of humanity.

Roll up, roll up!

"Roll up! Roll up! Witness the daring explorer place life, limb, and exploration data on the line!"

The ships engines hum in a routine and disinterested manner. The occasional plinking sound from mechanical systems that carry the heat generated to the outer edge of the vessel. 

"Stare deeply into the black hole! A monstrous beast that shouldn't exist in the universe! A thing to scare all common sense and bravery!"

The water extractor has developed a small rattle and a tinny whine. I'll get it overhauled when I get back, but for now there's enough water stored to be able to make the rest of the journey safely. There shouldn't be any trouble on that front.

"Risking life and limb to wring every last nanogram of data, the explorer can stand on the brink of danger! And some reckless souls will fall, never to be seen again, in our universe or the next!"

Another system with an M-class star fills the main view. There is still more than half a tank of fuel so no need to refuel here. Pulling back on the controls points the ship off to the next destination. Scanned data captured and stored, a quick look shows nothing worth staying for, and the countdown begins.

"Moving over to the other side of the Orca, as we continue this tour of fearsome and noble galactic monstrosities, you can see the accretion disc hurling matter into the black hole."

The tourist guide in my head has stopped speaking for the moment, and is no longer replaying the events in my mind.

Its all quiet now. Back to normal. But a few hours ago all hell had broken lose.

The stars pirouette around the gravitational mass, drawing all of the galaxy around itself as a cloak to hide its singularity.

More sensor data streams in about the nature of these beasts. Studied by many explorers before me, and many more to follow, the black hole still has some mysteries to reveal. Setting up another sensor pass should capture enough for now, and then onto another exploration bounty claimed. 

The feeling of being at the eye of the storm is one that can't be shaken.

The black hole isn't a large one as they go, I've already visited larger, and the orbit around the body is one that even the onboard computer can calculate. Leaving the computer to continue the orbit, my full attention turns to the sensors to ensure they remain pointed where they should.

One star races across the field of view, up to the edge of the hole, then takes an abrupt right angle turn and traces a path around the event horizon, before continuing on its way. If I can get the spectral profile of that star then the event horizon might be mapped with greater theoretical understanding.

My distraction is my undoing. The klaxons go off and, deep in concentration chasing the star, the blaring sound is a distance call on my attention. Only a moment mind, but that could be enough to be fatal, while the ship grinds and threatens to shake itself apart in protest. In relief it drops out into sub-light space with a vicious rattle.

Though normal doesn't quite begin to describe this volume of space. I've been close to a black hole before, more by accident than by design, but this one has a rather murky and claustrophobic feeling to it.

The physics inside here is still playing havoc with my sensors and eyes. The engine trails seem to be falling behind me and to one side.

Sensor data continues to pour in. But really it is time to go. This doesn't feel safe to me.

An invisible barrier pushes up and I can feel my ship veer off to one side.

Yes, really. Time to go.

Lining up the next system it is tucked off to one side, and away from the black hole. There is no personal experience here of jumping into witch space from where I am.

Deep breath. Stab at the drive engage and hope...

The rush into hyperspace was most welcome. Jumping from inside the black had clearly been safer than I'd thought, and I now have the sensor records to show for it. One day this will become a tourist spot for hordes of Orca full of gawping holidaymakers.

"Moving on to the noble and beautiful! The three graces are a rare sight in our galaxy! And one of extreme beauty I must say! Named by the Commander of the Federation of Pilots who first discovered them..."

The tourist guide is back. 

I'm making his life possible by risking my own. Remind me not to tip him at the end of the voyage.

The Three Graces

The exploration through Phroi Pri sector revealed some surprises.

Just past the largest black hole at the centre of the galaxy, up a bit and over to the left, the high density of ordinary stars are heavily dusted with compact, hot and dangerous neutron stars. I found myself on the edge of this field after a sideways hop from Sagittarius A* to another nearby black hole with a GRS designation, coordinates provided by a fellow explorer.

Judged to be the remnants of a super nova, a neutron star is dense, hot and spinning. The sheer number of them in this volume of space calls into question what stellar event took place here. One that left behind so many?

The calmness of space of the moment actually conceals the vicious damage once wrought here. A massive star near the end of its main sequence, and in the final stages of collapse, will shrink further under its nuclear processes. Beyond a certain point the outer shell is blown away while a core of neutrons remains. A super nova is the death of a star.

Known to explorers as "The Neutron Fields", it is more like a battle field graveyard of giant fallen stars.

While it has become routine and safe exploration there a few things to keep an eye on. Such a star has an intense heat output that can overwhelm a ship's cooling systems very quickly. The distance between safe scanning and burnout can be a matter of seconds, and even turning away to try and make safe distance can bring you into danger.

A neutron star is so small that there is only a brief visual distortion on the exit of hyperspace to show where it lies. The brightest point in the nights sky for its proximity, but otherwise a point like body that is lost in the backdrop of stars. There's also no refuelling here, unless you're lucky with a companion star.

These systems are undergoing regeneration, however, showing that from the death of a star there is a rebirth. Companion stars, dense metallic worlds and gas giants form a respectful distance away from the neutron star at the centre of the system.

That regeneration can also include new life from the fallen star, carrying its own charm, beauty, and creativity.

So when I found them, I called them The Three Graces.

Three water worlds suitable for terraforming, in tight orbit around each other and huddled in protection from this neutron star. There is already carbon-water based life here, on three planets within 12 light seconds from each other, in the remnants of a dead star.

A rather unusual late sequence S-type star also caught my eye: the first I have ever seen. A detailed sensor pass for the scientists back home, but not much more to report.

Then its back towards Sol. Narrow band comms chatter with fellow explorers helps me realise that I'm not best equipped for a longer and more extended journey out here. In particular I don't have the jump range to attempt trips out to the sparse edge of the galaxy.

So with databanks brimming with data, thoughts now turn to a small bubble of intensely occupied space, where fragile life thrives and fights to survive.

Day 12: Slàinte mhath!

A moments pause to savour the feeling. The left hand grips at the throttle too tightly and then loosens, allowing the fingers to flex and settle again comfortably.

Nearly there.

The starfield around me is rich, dense and bright, and there isn't a place I can look that doesn't have the glow of a star. Even in an adjacent system less that 2 light years away I can see that there's something rather strange up ahead.

The space ahead looks... dimpled, and a halo of light surrounds my destination. The gravitational distortion of light behind the black star that is lucky enough to get around and not fall in.

The jump drive spools up and the throttle slides forward as it has done so many times before. There's no time to counter the dry throat that just formed.

The ship slides into witch space one more time.

A loud boom reverberates through the ship on exit and the blue Cherenhov radiation fades away from periphery vision. A rougher transition than usual to be sure, but the gravity distortion in this system is far from usual.

The canopy glare filters lift and, for a moment, I believe that nothing has happened. Directly ahead is a dark black and empty volume of space in which my eyes can't pick out any detail. As the stars in the sky return to my sight there is a moments disorientation as they swim around in seemingly unnatural directions.

The ship comes to a halt and the dark sphere fills out with light gathered from all over the sky.

Light is bent so far out of shape that I fancy I could see the photons from my own ship thrown back at me after they've made an orbit of the event horizon. The sensor net starts waking up and spewing out crazy reports that aren't too far away from that flight of fancy. The data is confusing so I just let the machines gather and store it. One thing I know is that the jump has placed me over 60 light seconds from the nearest mass.

Then a mental correction that reminds me of the situation I'm in: its not mass, but the nearest singularity in space and time. A super massive black hole hiding over half a million solar masses.

A cramp starts to form in the muscle of my hands, and it takes me a moment to wake up to the fact that I've gone back to gripping tightly on the throttle. Releasing the controls entirely I relax and let the tension drain from me.

I've made it.

The local comms channel static clears up and a message comes through in clear: "Hello friend!"

Another commander from our original exploration team of nine has arrived, only a few minutes earlier, and is also assimilating the view. We return to normal space and line up to capture evidence of our arrival. We share the survey data for the system, and swap stories on the journey up (he's not been to the Great Annihilator yet, and plans to do so on the way back).

A small glass of Eranin pearl whiskey from personal supplies celebrates the moment, though it wouldn't be wise to drink more while this close to something so dangerous. The hours pass quickly, and this seems a very quiet part of space.

Sensors carry their familiar warning beep and another ship jumps into the system. Another commander from our group has arrived, having had some trouble with navigation computer for the last few hundred light years.

We let him savour the moment, the view, and the achievement.

As we all will. For the rest of our lives.

With thanks to Cmdr Stoneage and Cmdr Ol for the assistance in taking of photos on the edge of the event horizon.

Also to Cmdr Bikky, Cmdr Ian Norton, Cmdr Jeffrey Stoob, Cmdr Cluseau, and Cmdr Iain McC for the company and camaraderie  on the journey.

We lost one along though: started the journey but we lost touch along the way. We hope he made it back safely.

Day 12: Eaten by the Great Annihilator

Taking the low road isn't always the slowest. Or least interesting.

While the pedant would probably point out that there is no concept of low in space, only that up and down are both relative terms that make sense when you are planet side. Having an external direction imposed by gravity means that relative directions are easily adopted, and mankind was doing it long before space travel was the norm.

Of course when it comes to practical matters, such as working with others, it isn't always about being right (through pedantry or otherwise). Much more important is about being able to have useful casual conversations rather than technically obtuse but accurate ones. Taking advantage of millions of years of evolution trumping only a few hundred years of space travel.

Not that there is any gravity to help when looking at the galaxy, but the convention appears to place Sol above the galactic plane, and ships systems consistently display maps with the Alliance at the top of the pile and generally closest to the old north star, also known as Polaris. When the home system is at (0,0,0), and the centre of the galaxy is off thataway, then consistency as about all you can hope for.

So old habits die hard and the low road it was. The others in the exploration group went high up over the top of the galactic plane and we've rarely been closer than 500Ly.

And so that low choice put me within range of another fine galactic sight of great natural interest.

The Great Annihilator. Not the first choice for a star catalogue, but a name that has stuck.

At just under 3000Ly from Sagittarius A* this is perhaps the second most familiar black hole in the galaxy. Not many know however that it has a companion black hole around 210,000Ls away.

I'm just about to jump in for a visit...

Space distorts in a dangerous way around a black hole. Light itself, normally one for flying as straight and true as possible, suffers almost turning back on itself when near a gravitational field of this magnitude.

When the transition from travelling faster than the speed of light has settled down, there's a huge eruption in the stars that make up the galactic plane. Turning in on themselves, eating each other whole, and then being regurgitating again.

It seems I've found the black hole. Putting off dinner seems like a good idea right now.

Some detailed sensor sweeps and flybys of the gravitational lensing, and then onward to the companion black hole.

That was too close! The gravitational incline of the companion causes the safety systems to kick in, and the ship drops out into whatever counts as normal space around a black hole. The singularity spins less than 250km away, and meanwhile my adrenaline surges through the roof. A fight or flight decision has to be made. Quickly.

There can be no fight with a an object that commands the power to bend light and space. Turning away so the black hole is behind me, I keep a close eye on the ship's heat levels and start the jump sequence. The ship's computer helpfully tries to throw up an escape vector marker on the holo-display. Throttle up and continue increasing the distance away from danger. The charging engine spool up reaches a crescendo.

Nothing happens.

The computer bleeps helplessly as the jump fails to engage and the engines start to flood the ship with heat. The emergency jump sequence shuts down and mercifully the heat begins to dissipate safely. My trigger finger moves away from the heatsink launch button, the charge remains available and unused, while the temperature drains back to sensible levels.

Am I trapped?

The computer is so confused by the local distortion that it can't provide a safe escape. I'm not even sure if there is one - perhaps I'm too close. Try again.

The jump announcement signals ready and the heat builds again. I scour the sky for a weakening of space that will allow me free, trusting to the physics of the situation to find a path free instead of the onboard navigation imbecile. There's no sign of an escape vector where I'm pointed.

The controls lock and the timer countdown begins. There's more visible distortion of the galactic plane as the black hole spits me out.  The ship climbs to a safe distance and begins the acceleration away from danger.

Relief sets in and my stomach growls its hunger pangs.

Only when I've made it to the next system.

(Editor's note: the original intro video has now been replaced with an extended version at around 13 minutes of HD black hole footage)

Day 11: The double scoop

Collective madness.

Those who have been out amongst the stars, travelled far, and returned, will know that a certain routine sets in after a while. We've managed to maintain a good camaraderie at the times when comms has been established over the distance that we've been travelling, and the separation between the ships in space.

But a need to try something different steps to the fore. A break to the routine. The taking of a risk in a profession mostly noted for being adverse and always looking to the longer term result.

So something like this was bound to happen, a rebellion of sorts that allows you to shake something out of your system. Otherwise a tension builds up that distracts in an even more dangerous way.

The cabin temperature builds up as the heat accumulates in the ship. 85%... 92%... 97%. Insistent klaxons demanding attention and prompt action are rendered meaningless. There is nowhere to go and nothing that can be done except to complete the transit between the stars. The cabin fills with an intense dry heat as the cooling mechanisms struggle to cope.

It flattens out at 98% and then falls back in relief to more normal operating levels. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my temple and the cooked feeling fades away.

Moments later a fellow explorer in our group reports arriving at a similar tight binary star system over 500Ly away. After hearing of my exploit the madness jumps this distance and he has to repeat exactly the same manoeuvre. Communication is lost for a moment from the interference of the stars, but resumes with a jubilant cheer and laughter with a slightly manic edge to it. I know how that feels.

The journey continues with the tension released and balance restored.

For both of us.

Yesterday's waterworld with rings clearly wasn't nearly as unique as I'd thought for. After only a few jumps in there was another one waiting for me, this time with caps of ice.

The A class star that it orbits also casts a disturbing muddy white hue that I don't think I have ever seen before. It makes the gas giant look altogether gruesome and unreal.

As if on cue I hear the drip...drip... drip behind me of water onto a metal plate. The fresh water condenser and purifier, recently broken, has started working again for no apparent reason. A few drops of water drip out as the machine goes through an internal cleaning cycle. Operation is restored.

The transit between the twin stars must have shaken something lose, but I'll still have to keep an eye on it. I have fresh water again and the storage containers accumulate a supply that will keep me going much further. I'll draw some water out and build up a reserve in case it packs in again.

Getting back into the routine and I find myself in a fortunate position. Close enough to another stellar object with a most appropriate name, and also worthy of a visit.

Course change set. Jump initiated.

Video link (YouTube): Elite Dangerous: Binary star refuelling
Duration: 0:50

Day 10: Escaping the sea of rocks

The navigation controls vibrate recklessly in my hands. This is a dangerous approach that I'm undertaking and there's precious little out here to help if things go wrong. The nearest ship I can contact is over 1000Ly away and unaware that I'm conducting an operation of this nature.

It won't matter anyway. The remlock's oxygen supply would fail before they could get here.

There is no nav beacon to assist the drop to normal space, and the dizzying rush of rocks in the ring brings makes the throat constrict. That dangerous part that I mentioned? One unlucky roll of the dice and I could end up with an asteroid directly in my path. A starship grave in a system unlikely ever to see human eyes again.

It has been a while since I've flown in a ring field. The drills from the res combat come back quickly though. Fight in the illuminated rings. Only boost towards clear space. Disable flight assist only when you can see where you'll drift. So the pleasure of flying tightly among the rocks returns. A perverse and risky pleasure perhaps, considering where I am, but a satisfying one nonetheless.

So the reason why I'm here? Another water world. But an unusual one with its own ring system this time. A close survey for the research scientists back home to determine the composition of the object that once orbited this planet and then broke apart.

One enthusiastic boost too many and the Diamondback leaps clear of the sea of rocks for a moment, framing the water world against the backdrop of a dense curtain of stars.

With the secrets of that waterworld now stored securely in my exploration logs, it is time to move on. This close to the centre and curios start to arrive thick and fast.

A cluster of Herbig Ae/Be stars divert me from the journey on. Spinning at visible incredible rates, and not quite yet on the hydrogen burning main sequence, these incredibly bright stars will continue their gravitational collapse and ignite into huge class A/B stars that burn a blueish white.

The other T-Tauri stars are a bonus... almost a complete system full of them!

Still travelling above the galactic plane means that I can now look down on the stunning disc of our galaxy. It washes past the edge of my canopy and back towards the distance star systems I know of as home.

With the density of Herbig and neutron stars on the increase it is inevitable that another stellar object makes an appearance. A smaller brother to its sibling at the centre of the galaxy, it still manages to distort the bright stars as space and time are bent under an intense gravitational flux.

Dropping to within a few tens of kilometres is a frightening experience. This is good practice for the arrival at the giant ahead though, so I grit my teeth and keep an eye on the ships health reports. Rumours and bar scuttle tell of a path to immortality through a black hole, of ships going in and never returning, forever visible as they fall into the horizon until their last photons are no longer able to escape.

I'm not prepared to take a leap of faith like that.

Day 9: Boxing clever

Their illumination fills the cockpit. Space is no longer dark and empty.

So bright that they are visible while scooping fuel in tight orbit around the sun: a dense wall of pinpoints scattered across the sky in vast quantity and without care.

It might take a lifetime to visit them all, catalogue all of the bodies that are in orbit, and find all the curiosities that are hidden away. A part of me would love to go and explore, but there is another, stronger, siren call to darkness.

The stars are now close enough together that route planning is taking its toll on the computational power at my disposal and it takes a few seconds to calculate the next route. I'm still over 9000Ly out from the core and the star density field only gets tighter from here. Something to keep an eye on.

And then a curious thing.

The density of stars just suddenly falls off as if I've thrown myself off of a cliff. The skies are clear and empty, with darkness once again dominating the the backdrop. Orienting the ship with the next destination brings a second surprise.

There is a tight cluster of bright stars ahead.

It is almost as if a surgeon's scalpel has cut away a volume of space. Not needed to make this part of the galaxy as it is clearly surplus to requirements. Imagination flares up and, for a moment, I imagine that volume of space tucked away in the galactic equivalent of a "lost and found" department.

I'll have to compare notes with Cmdr Ol, who has passed through similar box like volumes of space recently.

A few other curios and frustrations come to the fore. A gas giant with life in its upper atmosphere, a thin layer of turbulent water vapour.

That there is life on this scale and in this hostile a location speaks for the tenacity of life. The assumption that it is truly aware, or even intelligent, in a place like this is difficult to imagine however. Being born in such a place suggests a low glass ceiling on the size and complexity for this form of life. So I can't help but reflect on the privileged position that I have.

For my species the glass ceiling has been very high. At least... I assume it has.

A brief moment of disappointment when I find that I've mistaken a heavy metal planet with rings for a water world or even an earth-like. Hopefully that won't happen again. The clarity and structure in the rings is still a triumph over entropy though, and an elegantly beautiful view, so I don't begrudge the journey in-system to get here.

Finally, another beautiful waterworld that carries the recommendation from the ships computer that it is terraformable. Any life on this planet would not even know where to begin when looking for stellar constellations and heroes in the stars.

There are some rare Herbig Ae/Be stars that I can see up ahead - setting course and destination.