Oh, finally! I'm out from behind a dull desk in a dull office doing dull traffic data analysis and back in a cockpit! Oh, how good it feels to stretch my wings again! Proverbially, of course. And you know where I headed right away, right? Sigma-13, that's right. That's where that freelancer I met in the bar said a new jump hole had formed a few months ago. To a newly discovered, practically unexplored system! And they christened it Copernicus! How could I resist?

It took some time to get to the Sigmas, what with my old nav maps being practically worthless after the Pulse two years ago. But I made it in just a few days. Not too bad. Finding the jump hole to Copernicus, on the other hand, was a real hassle. Sigma-13 is entirely engulfed by one of the densest patches of the Crow Nebula. Visibility is practically zilch, and sensors - even the Draugr's - are all but useless, too. So that was another two days spent slowly combing through the clouds.

But, it was all worth it. So very, very worth it!




The flight computer was practically screaming at me not to approach the jump hole - warnings about gravimetric instabilities, high levels of radiation, subspace fluctuations, the lot - but when has that ever stopped me? I survived the Pillar Man, after all. So, I entered.

And came out the other side unscathed. Hurray!

Alright, but now to get serious.

I found myself on the other side of the unstable jump hole, in grid sector G-3, on the edge of a large outcropping of the Crow Nebula. This region proved to be particularly dangerous due to its extremely volatile pockets of gas. I aborted any attempt to thoroughly chart the nebula when contact with a single pocket stripped my ship's shields.

Heading south, I left the clouds, and got a clear view of the system around me. At its heart is a brown dwarf, barely luminescent, surrounded by an accretion ring consisting mostly of highly irradiated particulate matter.




Of much greater interest is the binary planetary system spanning grid sectors F-4 and G-4 and the pair of anomalies caught in their shared gravity well. I will have to return to properly analyze the planets, apparently already named Bode and Titius. The anomalies, on the other hand, couldn't wait. I approached with due caution and performed the usual suite of scans, taking magnetic and gravimetric readings consistent with jump holes. However, their effect on surrounding spacetime appears to be weak, from which I inferred that their exit points were within the bounds of the system.




I could not resist and - ignoring my computer's warnings - entered one of the two anomalies at random. And I was correct. I exited hyperspace in in a small dust cloud on the borders of grid sectors C-2 and D-2. Here I found a ... derelict ship. A freighter. It can't have been there for long, judging by the minimal signs of wear and tear. I was able to access its transponder and identify it as the exploration ship Raleigh. It showed no signs of life. I guess whoever was on board had less luck traversing the jump holes than me. I decided not to linger too long.




In the immediate vicinity I found another jump hole, similar in readings to the ones over Bode and Titius. Hoping that it had stabilized since the Raleigh's misadventure, I passed through, reentering real space in orbit over another planet, Galle, and its moon, Helvius, in grid sector D-6. Galle, a gas giant, appears to be ravaged by storms visible even from a high orbit. I doubt my sensors will be able to penetrate an atmosphere that violent. The moon seems to be of the lifeless, rocky variety, as most moons in Sirius are, but may be worth a second glance




Galle's gravity well, too, seems to have captured a pair of anomalies, again almost identical to those over Bode and Titius and the ones found near the Raleigh. Again letting curiosity get the better of me, I picked one at random and - having of course assured myself of their relative safety - entered.




That was a bad idea.

I came out the other side still in the system - that's good - but caught in what appears to be an enormous, rocky, and highly radioactive dark matter cloud. That's bad. Luckily, my flight computer has stronger survival instincts than me and immediately engaged the cruise engines to escape. I let it handle the flying, because I was completely disoriented. The cloud is dense enough to blot out what little light the system's brown dwarf emits, rendering manual navigation through the equally dense field of jagged asteroids within all but impossible.




Thanks only to the automatic deployment of nanobots and an injection of instant radiation medicine, the Draugr and I made it out alive. Note: Avoid the entirety of grid sectors A-7 through H-8.

Shaken, violently vomiting, and with a terribly itchy but luckily only superficial radiation burn on my face, I set course back for Galle and its moon. I am a scientist after all, and there was still a second jump hole in their orbit for me to explore. Luckily, this one spat me out someplace safe®: Bode and Titius. It turns out to be connected with the second jump hole in their orbit.

From there I headed towards the system's west, passing over the brown dwarf and its radioactive accretion disk. At its fringes, in grid sector D-5, I came across another anomaly, similar again to the previous jump holes. This one's readings, however, fluctuate to the point that my computer couldn't even keep track of its gravitational field. Knowing a dangerous anomaly when I see one (ha ha), I maintained a safe distance of roughly two thousand meters. I surmise that it must be a recently collapsed jump hole. Maybe caused by the Pulse.




Satisfied with the collected data, I resumed my course westwards, towards another, smaller cloud, this time consisting primarily of water ice and ionized hydrogen, lending it a beautiful color. It took a few hours of aimless searching within, but I eventually came across another jump hole in grid sector B-5. This one was almost identical in readings to the one to and from Sigma-13. Unstable but, despite my flight computer's incessant warnings, safe enough to traverse. And so I did and promptly found myself in Galileo!

With my ship practically falling apart from radiation damage around me and my saliva tasting a bit too much of iron and bile for my liking, I set immediate course for Shikoku, where I now am, safely and somewhat comfortably nestled in a cheap room on Deshima Station.

Okay, I admit. It was terrifying. And exhilarating! I couldn't be happier to be flying again! There's so much to see! So much to discover! Oh, I cannot wait to return and perform proper analyses of everything I've found in Copernicus! This will be huge!

P.S.
For next time, remember:
red to white,
white to yellow,
blue to green.