The stars are not a place, but a question.

[Tom Bacon]

SYROOMEOU FG-Y G8 or SYROOMEOU FG-Y G2

o7 Commander!

I tried to establish a route to both of those systems. Even with a current jump range of 82Ly + Boost, I am unable to reach these systems. So unfortunately, these targets are out of the question.
Nevertheless, I will work my way up as far as I can.
Thank you very much for the suggestion!

 

[Doctor Dread]

o7 Commander!

I can't remember how I've managed, it was ~10 years ago.
What you can do is go vertical from Sag A, up and up. It's not far to the top. Up there, look for higher positioned systems one by one, do the zig-zag up to where it is possible for your ship. Go as far up as you can, and it will be enough for "I'm above all of it" feel and view.

That's where you can go on your own.

But there's a place I've visited only recently - you can't reach it by ship, you'll need a Fleet Carrier. Either your own, or once the Booze Cruise start hitch a ride up and back.
It is insane.

Spoiler: HIP 58832 Rackham's Peak

 

[Tom Bacon]

I can't remember how I've managed, it was ~10 years ago.
What you can do is go vertical from Sag A, up and up. It's not far to the top. Up there, look for higher positioned systems one by one, do the zig-zag up to where it is possible for your ship. Go as far up as you can, and it will be enough for "I'm above all of it" feel and view.

Everything's fine!
The Booze Cruise seems like fun, but that's something for another time – I don't want to take this detour now and switch to a freighter just to be able to take part. I don't want to interrupt my journey for now. I'll do my best to get as high up as possible on my own.
Thank you, Commander!

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.197 – System Quemie EF-A E9

I climbed as high as I could.
There’s one more star within reach from here — but only with a premium injection. I could just about make it there and back… but it’s no fuel star, neither ist this here. I’d be stranded.
Maybe one day I’ll find another vector, another angle, and push even further.

The journey was quiet. No great discoveries.
Well — save one. Recepta. New to me, at least. That was the first time I realized: even plants have a voice.
This one cracked and popped softly, like this orange seed pods trying to burst from within.
Tubus Conifera, I noticed, produces deep, hollow notes — almost like a great pan flute stirred by the wind. I never listened before. Never thought to. But now I can’t help but wonder: what other voices have I missed out here? I’ll be paying more attention from now on.

On the way up from Colonia toward the core, the stars changed. From sharp white pinpoints to a hazy, golden-brown glow. The whole sky suffused with warm light.
But just ten jumps off the galactic plane, the haze peeled away. The stars began to thin. Jump by jump, the heavens opened — the spaces between stars grew wider. Blackness claimed the view.

And here I am now — at the end of this path.
Nothing beyond me but more black. That’s what Out in the Black really means.

It’s unsettling, piloting when you have no visual frame of reference.
It stops feeling like flying and starts feeling like falling.
And when I turn the nose around — the Milky Way lies beneath me like a colossal, glowing disc. A sea of yellow warmth in the void.

The only word that comes to mind is: majestic.
And if there is a god out here — then he didn’t craft his creation with care and measure. He just flung his spark into the dark, handfuls here, handfuls there.
And here we are. Tiny grains scattered in the void.
Majestic. That’s my galaxy.
Somewhere in that glow — 25,000 light-years in a straight line — is home.

On the way up here, I marked two systems I’ll revisit on the way back — both teeming with biosignals I didn’t have the patience to stop for. Once I’ve had my fill of this places, I’ll return to the Solaris and ready myself for the next leg: the Eye of Hell Nebula.
That quadrant I plan to Boxel-search, properly. For that, I’ll need to update my KI’s journal processor. Shouldn’t be a problem — I can pick it up on one of the carriers, or back on the Solaris.

For now… I can’t tear my eyes away from the sight of the Milky Way hanging there below me. Grand and quiet.
Even though… the black behind me has started to press in a little. That infinite, soulless gulf — it gets to you, if you let it.
And yet: I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive.

So I’ll stay a little while longer here. Keeping company with this lonely red sun.

Tom Bacon out.
"Maybe that’s all we are — sparks scattered in the dark, trying to find someone to shine with."

 

[Tom Bacon]

The Journey so far.
In the Background: The Bubble - right hand Colonia

 

[Doctor Dread]

The only word that comes to mind is: majestic.

That's the view I was telling you about
Bravo for making it.

Great pics, like Lonely Sun Quemie EF-A e9. It was worth it, right?

 

[Tom Bacon]

That's the view I was telling you about
Bravo for making it.

Great pics, like Lonely Sun Quemie EF-A e9. It was worth it, right?

o7, Doctor Dread.
Absolutely worth it — it truly is majestic. What a brilliant idea to fly up there.
Even the journey itself was exciting: about 90% undiscovered systems, plenty of biological and geological signals, and the gradual change from golden haze to pitch black… absolutely grand.

I only wish I could have gone even farther out — but not this time.
I can probably squeeze another 10 light-years of jump range out of my Mandalay, and that would definitely help for ventures like this.

I’m back on the Solaris now, the STAR carrier at Sagittarius A.
Trying to decide: head back to the Bubble for a little tinkering and to sell off all this exploration data before setting out again toward the Eye of Horror Nebula?
Or just keep going.
It would certainly help to improve my range for the journeys I have in mind — there’s still so much to discover.
As part of the fantastic IGAU community, which has already marked so many wonders, I sometimes think I could spend the rest of my life just chasing their bookmarks.
And Beagle Point is still waiting, too… it’s become something of an endless story.

I’m sure I’ll write a proper logbook entry about all this soon. All this started, because one old miner thought it might be worth writing things down. And some wonderful People answered.
Thank you!

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.201 – System Stuemeae FG-Y d7561, docked at Explorer’s Anchorage

I’m back from my climb above the galactic plane.
It was never really about what’s up there — it was about the view. The same one Cmdr Doctor Dread once described to me in such vivid words.
And it did not disappoint.
That image still lingers in my mind like a faint echo.
I can’t help but wonder — will we someday be able to cross this infinite black and reach into other galaxies?
What might be waiting for us there? What constellations? What kind of life?

Sometimes I think that being an explorer is really just a kind of escape. A constant search for “the other” — something that isn’t what we already know. That thought resonates deeply with me right now.
I’m not the type to fall into psychological traps easily… and yet: if it wasn’t true, would the thought be here at all?

When you stand here — a tiny atomic speck against the galactic core — nothing else seems to matter.
Here, you can’t help but see your own insignificance reflected back at you.
What does the galaxy care what I do? Or what I feel?
And if nothing matters… then maybe even my old hatred of the Empire doesn’t matter anymore.
Or of my family.
I’m not sure why those thoughts are bubbling up now. Maybe it’s time I stood at my parents’ grave and didn’t feel the urge to spit on it anymore. If the galaxy doesn’t care, why should I still carry that poison around?
Funny how we cling to things that only hurt us.
Strange thoughts to have here, at the heart of the Milky Way.
At least the scotch here is decent — and I’ve damn well earned it.

The trip back was uneventful. Plenty of new systems charted, a few biosignals sampled, nothing worth writing home about.

Tom Bacon out.

-

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.202 – System Myriesly OK-R c4-1655

And so I set out again.
For now I’m loitering in this system chasing down some biosignals — nothing special. But then, you know this tune by now.

On the station I met Cmdr Hagbard-Celine and had an interesting talk.
Turns out he flies a Mandalay too, and he shared some valuable advice.
Apparently, I could squeeze another ten light-years of jump range out of her — and that would have made all the difference up there at the edge.
My drives are still too strong, he says, which forces me to run a heavier power plant. Fix that, engineer everything for lightness, balance the thrusters properly… and you gain range.
He even suggested ditching the AFMUs entirely, since I never use neutron jumps anyway.
And the repair limpets? Haven’t touched them since Shinrarta.

Cmdr Hagbard-Celine just came back from Beagle Point.
That’s on my list too — and since I’ve learned that “someday” is just another word for “never,” I’m going to make it happen.

My plan is clear:
First, back to the Bubble. Tinker with the ship, sell the data, get everything just right.
On the way I’ll stop at The Great Annihilator — another black hole system, said to be breathtaking.
And along the route, I’ll visit a few IGAU bookmarks left on the map. No detour at all — and it feels good to follow in the paths others have marked.

After the Bubble: the Eye of Horror Nebula.
I’ll follow the galactic arc and grid-search the quadrant there.
And then? Beagle Point. Always keeping to the rim of the Milky Way, step by step.
What comes after that — I don’t know yet. But I know there are some fascinating nebulae between there and the core, and I’ll let the stars decide.

Today I already visited the Blood Nebula in Myriesly YE-R e4-3646.
No discovery of course, but beautiful nonetheless.
At the center — a neutron star so bright you can barely photograph the nebula itself.
But I don’t regret being there. Not one bit.

And now… inching ever closer to home, one jump at a time.
Heading home — but the black keeps calling.

Tom Bacon out.

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.206 – System Athaip HI-Z d1-3533, landed on 12 d

I’ve been to the Great Annihilator.
It was… interesting. Two black holes locked in their eternal dance. A neat trick of gravity, sure — but not quite the spectacle I’d been led to expect.
In the end, it was just another system to mark in the log, another reminder that not every story lives up to the telling. So I moved on.

Great Annihilator Star A

Great Annihilator Star B - can you spot the Difference? Exactly!

From here it’s another 126 jumps — just shy of 9,800 light-years — to the IGAU bookmarks I spoke of earlier.
They’re practically on the way. Might as well stir around in those systems a bit and see what turns up. After that, it’s another 15,000 light-years back to Shinrarta Dezhra.
I plan to stop in Rhea first, at the Federation’s Stronghold ship, to sell off my exploration data. Let the suits haggle over what it’s worth.

I suppose by the time I’m home, this trip will have stretched close to 60,000 light-years.
Funny how the numbers stretch and shrink the longer you’re out here.
Once upon a time, sixty thousand light-years would have sounded like an impossible journey.
Now it feels… small. Just another line in the logbook.
Perspective changes faster than a man’s mind can keep up. That’s something you learn, out here.

Galnet, meanwhile, is all aflame about the Panther Clipper and Zorgon Petersen’s desperate plea for support.
Looks like a marketing stunt to me — same as ever.
And as usual, every player in the latest three-way mess — Princess Duval, Archer, Yong-Rui — is already declaring themselves the winner.
Same old song.
How many centuries now have we heard the same refrain? The loudest voice always wins, and the rest of humanity falls in line like sheep.
I’m glad to be out here where the shouting can’t reach me.
Glad to be just a speck in the black, with no one telling me what to think.

Well then — no sense in lingering.
The next jump is waiting.

Tom Bacon out.

 

[CMDR_XOR]

CMDR, make sure, pronto (if you have not already) to find a lightening lagrange cloud on your path. It's another "must see" IMHO.

 

[Tom Bacon]

lagrange cloud

o7 Cmdr!

I’m always on the lookout for it. No luck so far — even flew out to two nebulae and poked around a bit. After working through the squadron bookmarks along my route, I’ve got my eye on another nebula where it’s supposed to occur.
Since you gave me that tip, it’s on my bucket list now. Would be nice if it turned out to be a first discovery — we’ll see.

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.209 – System Graea Hypue LO-P d6-403, docked on [IGAU] DSSS Dienekes

A fellow CMDR from IGAU once called this “advanced hiking.”
And yes — that description fits me perfectly right now.

I’m no scientist. I’ve never been one to approach things methodically.
Sure, I’ve upgraded my ship’s AI with a boxel-search module… but I haven’t used it yet.
For now, seeing the wonders out here feels more important than charting them all in neat little boxes.

Some milestones are already behind me.
I’ve been to Colonia — more than once now.
Been at the Center of the Galaxy and on the very top of it (at least what I could reach)
I’ve catalogued countless star systems, found a few interesting moons and planets, witnessed some bizarre orbital mechanics.
More than once I’ve come across pairs of moons so close together that a single DSS scan would map them both at once.

Right now its maybe Time for a Look back what I have achieved in my simple Approach to all those Things.

A Look Back from where I come

It was alot, at least for me. Somethings I crossed off my Bucketlist - and yet, I still haven’t seen a single Lagrange cloud! - this is a big Bulletpoint on this List!
On this long journey, I’ve only ever encountered one special stellar phenomenon — right near the start.
A system with floating crystalline shards.
Found it by sheer accident… only to realise someone else had already logged it before me. Typical.
I was so dissapointed, I even forgot to make an Position entry in my Logbook!

Found a tiny Moon, not more as a Rocky Ball - 800km across and funny to fly over it

Now I’ve reached the systems marked out by IGAU before me.
I’ve docked at a nearby IGAU carrier, enjoying a bit of chatter with other CMDRs and the occasional Ale.
It’s just Ale from Rhea, sadly — the Federation has never been famous for good liquor.
For that, we’d need to learn a thing or two from the Empire. They know a few things of Easy Livin´!

The [IGAU] Endeavour is holding up well.
Only minor repairs needed so far.
That loose cockpit panel, though… still loose.
One day I’ll have to have a proper word with Zorgon Peterson. Their idea of quality control seems to have been signed off by some pencil‑pusher rather than an engineer.
Even the new Clipper has Cables tanglin around, from what I heard!

She is georgous, takes every beat and everytime she looks after me - inside a Nebulea, looking for Lgrange Clouds

I’ll be staying in this sector for a few days, working my way through the IGAU bookmarks.
Maybe I’ll find something they’ve left behind — though knowing them, that’s unlikely.
They’re far more scientific than I am.

I’m still just an advanced hiker, after all.

Tom Bacon out.

 

[marx]

And yet, I still haven’t seen a single Lagrange cloud.
On this long journey, I’ve only ever encountered one truly special stellar phenomenon — right near the start.
A system with floating crystalline shards.
Found it by sheer accident… only to realise someone else had already logged it before me. Typical.

Pretty sure that was in the Inner Orion Spur then, because it's the only region where the distribution of NSPs is pretty good. Most of the time, they are highly localized, and you'll only find them if you know where to go - via the Codex, for example. Then there are three regions where NSPs are too frequent: Dryman's Point, Sagittarius-Carina Arm, and to a somewhat lesser extent, Tenebrae. Over there, you'll be stumbling across them through the entire region. The Albulum Gourd Molluscs in the Inner Orion Spur have by accident had a great distribution though: they are rare enough that explorers don't see them all the time, but still common enough that people will likely find one on their way. (Of course, the ever-increasing jump ranges actually make this less likely, since people get out of the IOS quicker then.)

If you'd like to read more on how this works, see my guide to NSPs. If you'd like to find some undiscovered NSPs, that should help.

 

[Tom Bacon]

Pretty sure that was in the Inner Orion Spur then, because it's the only region where the distribution of NSPs is pretty good. Most of the time, they are highly localized, and you'll only find them if you know where to go - via the Codex, for example. Then there are three regions where NSPs are too frequent: Dryman's Point, Sagittarius-Carina Arm, and to a somewhat lesser extent, Tenebrae. Over there, you'll be stumbling across them through the entire region. The Albulum Gourd Molluscs in the Inner Orion Spur have by accident had a great distribution though: they are rare enough that explorers don't see them all the time, but still common enough that people will likely find one on their way. (Of course, the ever-increasing jump ranges actually make this less likely, since people get out of the IOS quicker then.)

If you'd like to read more on how this works, see my guide to NSPs. If you'd like to find some undiscovered NSPs, that should help.

o7 cmdr!

Honestly? I wasn’t much of an "scientific" explorer in the beginning.
Back then, I wasn’t using EDDiscovery and I wasn’t a member of IGAU yet.
Because the site had already been discovered, I didn’t really pay much attention to it — I didn’t even record the exact position in my logbook.
I just felt lucky^^
It’s probably somewhere around BYUA EUQ HM-M c7 or so… and yes, I’m a bit embarrassed not to know for sure.

Since then, I’ve changed a lot about how I explore and how I document my journeys.
Thank you for the guide — I’ll definitely have another look at it.
Cmdr Old Virgin recommended it to me a few days ago as well.

Right now I’m too far out to check again, as I’m making my way back toward the Bubble.
There are plenty of IGAU bookmarks along my route waiting to be visited.
Once I’m back, I’ll do some work on my ship, make a few optimisations —
and then a new journey begins.

Thank you alot!

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.198 – System Graea Hypue ZV-U d3-301

I actually managed to land on a planet with 3.3 G gravity.
Graea Hypue ZV-U d3-301 A 2.

Of course, getting out of the ship was impossible — which explains why nobody has claimed first footfall yet, despite the planet being covered in braintrees and the system has long been discovered.

The reward came on A 3, where I somehow snagged a first footfall despite the system being otherwise well explored. Braintrees again — but at 2.2 G and surface temperatures over 300°C.
Even the smallest ridge becomes a wall in those conditions, and the SRV struggles to climb. A few times, I genuinely worried I wouldn’t make it back to the ship — but I managed to return my SRV with 82% hull integrity.

This system still has more to offer… though, truth be told, I already knew that.
I can read the codex entries and see the bookmarks just fine.

Alpha Settlement Ruins

There are Guardian ruins here, and several carriers in nearby systems.
That alone makes it surprising that I could still claim a first footfall.

I’ve always loved the mystery of the Guardians. I wasn’t sure whether to try scanning the ruins, as my Endeavour isn’t even fitted with point defence — and last time I almost got myself killed by guardian sentinel missiles.
But I decided to risk it anyway, ready to run at the first sign of trouble.
And I’m glad I did.

Another Shot

Exploring the ruins in broad daylight is an experience of its own. They are beautiful.
Haunting, even.
It’s humbling to stand among these ancient structures and realise how little we truly know.

My worries were unnecessary — there were no active sentinels.
I collected a fair amount of data scans but didn’t bother with urns, relics or totems. There’s no room for them, and honestly… no reason.

There’s something profoundly uplifting and yet deeply sad about these places. I’ve read countless theories about their downfall, their technology, their ties to the Thargoids — but none of it feels real when you’re standing here, dwarfed by alien monuments that have endured for millennia.

Shouldn’t we be throwing everything we have into understanding these mechanisms, these technologies?
Instead, we funnel billions into weapons and petty wars. How far could humanity have come by now if we’d been as obsessed with learning as we are with fighting?

And yet here we are, leaving the real work to a handful of engineers — and to one madman whose experiments basically provoked the Thargoids in the first place. The fool even calls himself Salvation. God, humans can be so stupid. Sometimes I wonder if the more we learn, the dumber we get.

An old pilot’s thoughts. Weightless, like the dust around me.

Darkness fell before I could take a good photo.
I’ll check another system in the area — most bookmarks here seem Guardian-related — and then I’ll move on.

Found some 19,5 Million Grass on Pyramoe FK-M b54-0 3 a

I find myself looking forward to home.
I’ve decided I will visit my parents’ grave. It’s time to let go of old anger.
Maybe I’ll even visit the house I grew up in.
Whether I want to see my sister… I haven’t decided.

Tom Bacon out.

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3311.199 – en route to Rhea, currently in Droju DP-G C27-5

48 jumps to go.

Not much to report — just the familiar rhythm of jumping, scanning, moving on.
Undiscovered systems are becoming rare again. Yet, the memory of the Guardian ruins a few thousand light-years behind me still lingers.

Funny how the sky feels strangely empty here, even though the Inner Orion Spur already carries the sound of “home.”
Today I covered a lot of ground — almost 70 jumps so far.
Many systems were little more than one star, and several had already been discovered, which sped things up considerably.
I’m not tired yet, so I’ll keep going.

After all this, 48 jumps feel almost trivial.
What’s another 4,000 light-years, really?

Perspective changes quickly out here. Distances lose meaning, just like time.

Onwards.
Tom Bacon out.

 

[Tom Bacon]

Captain’s Log – Commander Tom Bacon
Stardate 3301.215 - System: Wellington

Not all who wander are lost ...

I spent a few days back home.
To be honest, my expectations were far too high. All that buzz, the constant humming and murmuring of people and their petty concerns...

First, I dusted off the Nostromo and mined a few tons of platinum — it was fun at first, weaving between asteroids again.
Ha! The Cutter flies like an old city bus — more sluggish than a pregnant brontosaurus.
It’s always been that way, of course — I’m just finally noticing it after growing used to the Mandalay’s handling.

Still, I wanted to shake the rust off my mining skills. There’s talk of a new dedicated mining ship hitting the market soon, and I’m curious — purely from a professional interest, of course.

I also hauled a few thousand tons of steel for Brewer as part of a CG event, which seems to exist solely to justify the launch of the new Panther Clipper.
Now that’s a ship. Huge, elegant — and surprisingly more responsive than the Cutter. Not that I’d ever need one. But damn, what a vessel.
Then again, as I’ve said before: Zorgon Peterson’s quality control is questionable at best. Loose wiring in the cockpit? Really?

I also visited Sol and stood at my parents’ grave.
It wasn’t the cathartic breakthrough I had hoped for — but more peaceful than I expected.
In the end, you can only pass on what you’ve known yourself, right? That must also apply to my folks.
No revelations, no grand release — but a quiet “Okay.”
Yes, I guess it was freeing. Just… in a different way than imagined.

I didn’t visit the house. It belongs to my sister now.
She has a family — grandchildren, even. Seems like she made it after all.
Word is, she followed in Mother’s footsteps. Military. Intelligence. Naturally… all classified.
Well. Good for her. It’s probably best I keep my distance.

So what does an old pilot do, one who no longer fits in with the blaring noise of modern civilization?
What’s with all these groups, playing at war and blowing each other up in mock battles until someone ends up in a lifepod — just to feel something?
It reeks of decadence. Of boredom. Of lives too cushioned to have meaning. Those kiddies nowadays!

Since being out in the black, I’ve started seeing through the slogans and illusions of the superpowers.
In the end, it’s all about power — not quality of life, not real progress — just power for the few.
And the rest of us? We follow, we jump at command. Willing sacrifices, wrapped in flags.
I want no part of it anymore.

„Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing the things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs.“
— Will Durant

Yeah, that about sums it up.
But me? I’ve never belonged to the stream — or the banks.

I wanted to visit Wellington — a system ravaged by the Thargoids and still under evacuation Protocol.
At Ezra Point, I couldn’t even drop out of Supercruise. The flight computer refused to let me near the station.
The surrounding systems are locked behind unknown permits — the entire Witch Head Sector is sealed off. A shame. Truely it is!

Milky Way and Wichhead Nebulae seen from Spirograph Sector ZP-X b1-0

So I’m flying again, directionless for now.
The Orion Nebula caught my eye on the map — so off I went.

Wichhead and Orion Nebulae seen from Wellington

Two hours later — dead end.
The route toward Orion is blocked — the permit-locked region cuts off access to the entire corridor.
Navigation says the Horsehead Nebula and Bernard’s Loop are also under permit restrictions, but maybe that is, because I cant go thru Orion?
I’ll try reaching the Horsehead by taking a wide detour around Orion — but I don’t have much hope.
What a shame. A real shame.

Orion Nebulae seen from Running Man Sector ZA-N b7-0

Next up: NGC 2232 Sector KM-V B2-0.
Something about heading back into the quiet, away from the chaos of so-called modern life, feels… right.

No luck there either. Three jumps in and the nav computer again refuses to chart a course — "special permit required."
I wonder who has the power to manipulate our ship systems so precisely — to cordon off entire regions of the galaxy.
What’s being hidden in there? The cradle of life?
I’ll admit it — I’m frustrated. I love a good mystery. But only when it’s solvable.
So many unknown stars, just out of reach. Damn it.

This all started as a short trip to Wellington. Mostly to test a few tweaks on the Mandalay and satisfy my curiosity.
But returning to the Bubble doesn’t sit right anymore. So yeah — I’m heading back out, toward HYPOAE AEC.
Maybe I’ll find something special after all.

„Not all those who wander are lost — but some do prefer to stay lost.“
I don't remember who wrote the first line — but my addition fits me perfectly.

OOC:
According to my research, this issue stems from a bug that appeared when FDev renamed certain systems.
I even tried it in Elite Dangerous: Horizons — same result. So, clearly, this still hasn’t been fixed to this day.
But why?
I get that the development budget might be limited — but I can’t accept that whole regions of the galaxy are simply made inaccessible because of it.
I’ll admit, it really frustrates me.
I can’t even reach the Shenve system — and that one has an engineer in it!

Tom Bacon out.