On the house
This story is based very closely on an expedition I made recently. I have wrapped it in a little fiction to aid the narrative - but the discovery I made, the events leading up to it, and how I eventually got there and back are all true.
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On the house
“De Lacy Juliet Oscar November, welcome to Jaques Station. Submit a docking request if you wish to land.” I thought I would never hear that again. Touchdown. I triple check that the ship’s navigational logs have uploaded to Universal Cartographics and head for a well-earned drink.
“What’ll it be young man?” The grizzled barman’s voice cuts through the background noise.
“Lavian Brandy, 2991 special reserve.”
Every head in the room swivels to face me. You just didn't ask for that. The barman fixes me with a disapproving stare.
“Son.” His fingers brush the ancient bottle’s original seal, “You had better have a pretty good reason for me to open this.” He plants his hands on the bar; my triple Elite insignia have no impact on eyes that have seen millions of light years. His silence speaks volumes.
You have no business making that request, boy.
“When I left Shinrarta-”
“Big shot here gets to park at Founders’ World, everyone!” He leans in. “You and every other pilot here. Try again, kid.”
I lean in too. “Pull up a chair. When I left Shinrarta…”
…the marshal signals me clear to depart, the last person I’ll see for a long time. Sunlight catches the newly-painted Combat Elite emblem on the deck of
Endurance as she eases out of Jameson Memorial. Finally the trio is complete - I can stop chasing ranks and start to create my own adventures. I steer the Anaconda’s bow toward the centre of the galaxy and jump away into the black.
Far below the galactic plane, I pass between binary stars so close it seems the whole sky is on fire. I fly around golden rings, shimmering in sunlight. Beautiful Earth-like worlds - marbles of emerald and azure - remind me of home. I near the depths and the view changes - a golden disc spreads out above me, whilst below only a smattering of stars punctuate the inky blackness. I push the ship to its limit, far beyond its normal jump range. I know I have the jumponium to get back, but this doesn't detract from the thrill. This is far more than scan-jumping to make a bit of money, or to curry favour with an Engineer. This is real exploration.
Three weeks into my expedition I pass over a lonely bookmark on the map - Kyli Flyuae AA-A h4. At 3381LY below the galactic plane, it's more than 80LY further down than the lowest system ever reached. I have a few isolated systems plotted - but no real hope of getting to any of them. I pause to give the map a quick scan anyway.
The Kyli Flyuae sector gets my undivided attention. YJ-Z e9 and ZE-A g15, two neutron star systems in a vertical line, lead straight to AA-A h4.
The distances between them look vast, but maybe just within my reach. I hurry down through the rapidly thinning stars to YJ-Z e9. It’s 245LY to ZE-A g15 - well within my maximum supercharged range of 265LY. I navigate the neutron jet, jump down, then select AA-A h4 - it is 274LY away.
Damn.
After flying halfway across the galaxy I'm a paltry 9LY short of a new record. But I know that a handful of ships with that jump range exist. I prepare to head all the way back to the bubble for further engineering. But maybe there is another way…I'll need a starport. The nearest is in Colonia, some 9000LY away. I set course immediately.
The bright, dense stars of the core make for a dramatic change after being out on the edge of the galaxy - I am so used to darkness filling half the sky. I dock at Jaques and offload my SRVs and shields, and replace my engineered distributor and surface scanner with lightweight stock items. My maximum supercharged jump range is now just over 276LY. I can make it!
But can I make it back?
The distance is right on the limit of my jump range - I will have to be very light on fuel. But the AA-A h4 primary star is Wolf-Rayet O-class. There is a normal O-class star in the system - somewhere. Will I run the tank empty before I can reach it? This is no time for fuel light bingo. I work through the detailed hyperspace fuel calculations. Ha! With precision scooping at the start of the route I can get to AA-A h4 with 4.28T in the tank. I could fly to Hutton Orbital and back with that much. I will have more than enough.
My smug grin vanishes as the real problem hits me. I won't have nearly enough.
If 4.28T is all I will have on arrival at AA-A h4, then 4.28T is all I will have once I jump back to ZE-A g15 - and that system has no scoopable stars. How far can that last 4.28T get me with a supercharge? 219LY - not enough to get back to YJ-Z e9. I will end up stranded in the depths of the galaxy, the record-breaking data in my computer and no way to get home and claim it. Not exactly The Right Stuff.
I could find a willing tanker. It would be a big ask to come all that way.
I could simply make the first jump and call the Fuel Rats, but intentional stranding is frowned upon. If I ask in advance maybe someone will come, but I am loath to reveal the location of my discovery.
I sleep on the problem, but I am restless.
Mild paranoia sets in. What if someone beats me to it? The galaxy is a big place, but others could be looking too. There will be no plaudits for getting there second. I stare at the galaxy map.
The solution has been there all along.
ZE-A g0 - an O-class star placed so perfectly it is almost divine providence. 185LY from ZE-A g15 - within the range of the last of my fuel - and close enough to other stars that I can use a synthesis boost to get back. I calculate the fuel remaining on arrival at only 1.5T - a tiny margin of error. But I'm pretty good with numbers. Fuel light bingo it is…
So I have the ship, and the route. They say it's better to be lucky than good; I'll need to be both.
The elephant in the room is that AA-A h4 has no neutron star to send me home.
The only way this doesn't become a one-way trip is for me to pull off the risky double neutron supercharge technique - engage hyperdrive within the neutron jet and hope that another boost is acquired in the 4 second countdown. I make for a nearby neutron star to practice. Sometimes I make a complete hash of the approach, but get lucky; other times, I execute the manoeuvre perfectly and nothing. I estimate my chance of success at less than half.
But I already know I’m going.
If I don't, someone else will claim the record for themselves. I couldn't live with the shame, knowing it could have been me except I wasn't brave enough to try.
I don't bother to scan anything on my way back down. I'm pretty sure I'm not coming back. At ZE-A g15 my jump range is exactly as predicted, so at least my fuel calculations look right. Maybe I’ll even get far enough for that to matter. The 20,000LS cruise to the neutron star gives me more contemplation time than I really want. On arrival I supercharge before coming around for the jump to AA-A h4, tucking in as close as I dare to the star’s exclusion zone right next to the root of the jet. I need to be inside it for the entire countdown to maximise my chance of getting that vital second supercharge.
Days of preparation, and an 18,000LY round trip have brought me to this moment. Now I have one chance. Everything will come down to those 4 seconds.
<
Frame shift drive charging>
I crack the throttle open slightly - I have to enter the jet slowly or I will cross it too fast. The hum of the engines rises to a peak.
<
Ready to engage>
<ready to="" engage="">
The HUD prompts me to throttle up. Not yet.
The steady drone of the engines and the whirling of the jet are almost hypnotic. My hand rests on the throttle - one twitch will send me hurtling into the abyss. Not yet.
The jet looms ever closer before me, sweeping a huge blue arc across the canopy and filling my view.
Not yet.
The suspense is shattered by the FSD safety alarm. I enter the jet cone and slam the throttle to the stops.<four>
<
Four>
I am committed - there is no backing out. My eyes fix on the notifications panel, looking for acquisition of the second supercharge.
<three>
<
Three>
Shards of light streak past as the hyperspace conduit forms in front of the ship. I ignore the safety warning glaring at me from the centre of the HUD. One way or another, it doesn't matter.
<two>
<
Two>
Endurance accelerates across the jet cone and to starboard I see the haunting dark hollow at its centre. The notifications panel remains resolutely blank.
<one>
<
One>
Still nothing. The countdown reaches zero; game over, I've had it. I see the conduit clearly against the blackness of the intergalactic void. Witchspace beckons to me.
<engage>
<
Engage>
[video=youtube;gmBqCkxQW6o]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmBqCkxQW6o[/video]
I guess I won't be-
<
Frame shift drive supercharged>
I punch the air in exaltation. Endurance launches herself across the vast interstellar distance, carrying the second boost needed for the homeward journey.
And then I am there.
The swirling lights of witchspace are replaced by the blue-purple hue of a Wolf-Rayet O-class star, and…nothing. Beyond here lies only emptiness. Manoeuvring clear, I scan the system and stare into the endless expanse, at once both serene and terrifying. Really the view is not so different from ZE-A g15, but my sense of solitude is so much greater. Here I am on the edge of infinity - the furthest from the galactic plane in either direction that anyone has ever been. Probably the most remote place visited as well at 274LY from anywhere. I drop from supercruise and gaze back at the Milky Way, relaxing for the first time since charting the system several days ago.
But the job is only half done. I visit both stars and the single planetary body, then leave with just as much fuel as I can carry. The binary stars vanish astern as I once more traverse the huge 274LY jump. I clear the black hole and hurry to the nearer of its two neutron stars. The trip is only 600LS, but still I’m watching my fuel gauge with trepidation. I supercharge and set course for ZE-A g0; I'm sure I don't have enough. Expecting nothing but an error message, I hit the hyperspace button one last time.
<
Frame shift drive charging>
Turns out there is a tiny sliver of fuel remaining. Yeah, about 1.5T I reckon.
I skip the usual post-jump turn and plunge straight toward the fiery blue corona. I have never flown an Anaconda with as little fuel onboard as I have now.
Finally I hear the fuel scoop starting up.
Never any doubt…
The barkeep leans back to reach his terminal. I place my wallet on the counter. He pulls up Universal Cartographics, still regarding me suspiciously. Slowly he turns to look at me for a few seconds, before his gaze moves on to the dusty old bottle. He places it on the bar and breaks open the seal. “On the house, Commander.”
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Further references:
EDSM entry:
https://www.edsm.net/en/system/id/15852997/name/Kyli+Flyuae+AA-A+h4
Forum discussion:
https://forums.frontier.co.uk/showt...system-visited?highlight=record+lowest+system
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