The Final Frontier: The exploration logs of Commander Lazarus G. Kent.

[The Galactic Penguin]

Commander's Log, Friday 26 June 3306, Exploration Vessel Constellation.

Nearly a month has passed since I gained my Pilot's Federation license, and with it graduated from the years of painstaking training. It was always said that back on ancient Earth, it was in the first thousand miles of driving that a new driver would make their most critical errors. Those were the miles of greatest danger. They used the same analogy repeatedly in training to warn us, and I stood so warned.

Tacking out into the wind, exploring the Galaxy, was all I'd wanted to do for as long as I could remember; and as soon as I qualified I headed out into the black. I shot through the Pilot's Federation ranks, confident, ever confident, and reached the rank of Ranger after returning from my first real cruise, in the Adder-class Exploration Vessel Excalibur.

But the problem with success is that it can breed complacency. Just a fortnight after my return, in a brand new Diamondback Explorer, I had an unfortunate incident with a high gravity moon in the Wregoe Sector.

And so, just like those new drivers on ancient Earth, just as the tutors had warned, I'd let the licence get to my head.....and I'd had my first crash. Of course, I was devastated, kicking myself. I'd snookered nearly a fortnight's worth of hard work, lost my ship....and dented my pride. I could have packed it in right there, settled down to a comfortable, if monotonous, life as a miner.

But I'm not a quitter. So I did a little trading on the side, and worked flat out on getting my FSD and DSS engineered. And much as I'd like to say I just brushed the crash under the carpet and moved on, that wouldn't be true.

The truth is, I still need to pursue my dream. To explore the Galaxy, to see sights no other human has seen; to head out deep into furthest reaches of the far constellations and see what lies beyond.

But I'd be lying if I said that part of me wasn't terrified, wasn't alive to the mortal terror of making that one error, that one unrecoverable mistake, that would tear the hull apart thousands of lightyears from help.

And perhaps that's just what I needed. The training gives you the confidence, the basic skills, but it's the mistake, and the fear and respect for dangers that it gives you, that completes the training.

I couldn't set out on this mission without laying this out in my log. Part of me is still terrified. But then the ancient mariners of Earth feared the sea they sailed upon; they set out all the same.

And so it's time for me to do the same. I'm setting the Constellation on a course for the Outer Orion Spur, en-route to Hawking's Gap. After a time exploring there, I plan to return from the direction of the Galactic Centre, reaching the northern fringes of the Bubble. I don't know how long it will take to reach where I'm planning to go to, or how long I'll be away, but that's the point of adventure; if you knew all the details in advance, there'd be no magic.

The Constellation is booked to depart Bernouilli Vision in the Caeritis system in one hour. Everything is stowed, packed and ready. It's time to head out.

 

[The Galactic Penguin]

Commander's Log, supplemental.

Constellation slipped her moorings in Caeritis at 3PM, exactly on schedule, with a course set for a guide star 2800 light years distant in the Outer Spur.

After only a few jumps in, I have to say I've been impressed by the work the engineer has done on the frame shift drive. When you're jumping 48 light years a time, distance and ground is covered so much more rapidly; it makes it far easier to get out into deep space and away from human habitation.

I've always enjoyed watching the systems slip by one by one, with the gradual recession of familiar markers showing me the progress I'm making towards the true unknown. Heading outwards along the Orion Spur, for the first few jumps everything has already been scanned and mapped. But at only a few hundred light years out, I've found worlds that, though discovered, nobody had bothered to map, and at about seven hundred light years from the Bubble I jumped into my first fully undiscovered system. There's a gradual process of the known melding into the unknown, of course; it isn't as though there's a solid boundary between the two. The undiscovered system here was an outlier of the unknown amongst a sea of otherwise known and mapped systems; I know I'll have to get further out before the unknown becomes the norm.

Systems-wise, the Constellation is performing excellently, as I'd expect for a ship straight out of spacedock. I'm particularly impressed with the upgraded Detailed Surface Scanner, which is scanning with a far higher resolution than previously. This is already making my life much easier, especially when it comes to scanning gas giants, which can otherwise be quite tedious to efficiently map.

Progress on the first day of the journey has been rapid, though I expected this. Given that many of the systems I'm seeing at the moment are already fairly well known and mapped so close to the Bubble, I don't tend to take much time mapping each system at first on journeys like this. It's once I reach the real unknown that my progress will slow down, as I take my time to scan and map many more of the worlds in the systems I discover.

I'm making this log entry from the surface of a small moon orbiting a gas giant about 1200 light years out. Sensors detected ammonia magma bubbling up from the planet's core, so I stopped to take a closer look. This is a beautiful world, with fantastic icy mountainscapes; as I came in to land, I flew the Constellation along a narrow valley between huge mountain ranges. I've been out in the SRV collecting samples from around some of the fumaroles; it seems this world is a good source of antimony, among other things.

Well, that's it for now. It's been a tiring day, and I have a long journey ahead of me tomorrow. Computer, end log entry.

 

[The Galactic Penguin]

Commander's Log, Saturday 27th June 3306, Exploration Vessel Constellation .


The night passed uneventfully, with just the occasional roar from the ammonia fumaroles breaking the silence. I made an early start to my journey this morning, firing up the thrusters at about 7AM, with plenty of distance to cover.


Constellation roared out of the valley I'd set her down in, swept above the mountain ranges to either side, and then I fired up the FSD. Minutes after taking off, the system was behind us, and we were another 48 light years into the black. I wonder how long it will be before anyone else sets foot there again, or if anyone ever will?


The first few systems I navigated through passed quickly, as they were mainly lone stars without any planets in orbit, and there was little reason to hang around. I've pushed entirely through the Plio Eurl sector en-route to my guide star in the Sphuedie sector. One surprise this time around was just how long it took to reach the boundary of the Inner and Outer Orion Spur. On my previous expedition I'd hit this boundary around 2,200 lyra from Caeritis, but because my target star was high off the plane of the ecliptic of the galaxy, I was travelling a long distance up but not so far each jump laterally from my ppint of origin. It wasn't until late afternoon that I reached the Outer Spur, some 2500 light years out from Bernouilli Vision.


The highlight today has to have been the double water world system I found not all that far from where I decided to call it a night. I also spotted a beautiful solitary gas giant orbiting a class M star. It's doubtless been there, orbiting its star alone for billions of years. I seem to have been the first to visit it; perhaps I'll be the last; how many more billions of years will it continue to plod through ttbe night on its endless orbits, alone?


The ship has performed well again today, though I've noticed a slight background fluctuation in the environmental controls; I'll need to check it out at some point. I'm glad the system worked fine yesterday because that planet was at 77 Kelvin. Better keep my eye out for warmer worlds for the time being; as the only landable worlds in my present system have a surface gravity of at least 4Gs, I'm going to shut down skyside tonight.


Computer, end log entry.

 

[The Galactic Penguin]

Commander's Log, Sunday June 28th, Exploration Vessel Constellation .


Not a huge amount to report today, partly due to fatigue. I put in a long day at the helm yesterday, and prior to setting out from Caeritis I'd been charging around the Bubble making last minute preparations. All that needed doing today was getting to my waypoint in the Sphuedie sector.


Although there's been a considerable 'climb' to get here it's been a short hop of only a few jumps. Still, a little under 3,000 light years from the Bubble this is the furthest out I've so far been. It marks the point at which I turned around on my last trip, so everything from here onwards is breaking new ground.


I'm at the first waypoint of my expedition. The next is much further out into the Outer Spur, a Deep Space Support Array vessel, the Artemis' Rest . At over 6,000 light years from Sol it's still very distant from here and it will take me at least a week to reach it. I have no idea what I'll find along the way, but I'm sure there'll be plenty of strange and wonderful sights. It's good to be out in deep space again.


One slight downside to the trip has presented itself. It looks as though in my rush to leave on time, I left my beer behind at Bernoulli Vision. I hope Artemis' Rest has a bar!

 

[The Galactic Penguin]

Commander's Log, Monday June 29th, Exploration Vessel Constellation.


Just a quick log entry today. It's been a day of waterworlds; the first system I jumped to this morning had two terraformable waterworlds, and in a neat coda to the day, the last system had one as well. Provided I get to sell the data, this should have been a very profitable day all told, but more importantly it's been good to make progress on my journey and I've enjoyed the sights.


I've set myself the objective of running about 500 light years a day for the time being, which with my 48 lyr jump range works out at about eleven jumps a day. There's obviously still a long way to go to Artemis' Rest, but if I can maintain the pace, I should be there by the weekend.

 

[Thwarptide]

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