0.22 to 1,000 LY
15 Mar 2018Namita Pear
Jinking missiles and laser fire may pump the adrenaline into my brain, and trading might let me socialize more, but I've never stared in awe out the window before this trip. I sit now with Sol obscured behind the Witch's Head, whose purple fields of gas and dust mesmerize me at such blown-up size. It is surprising that I've traveled literally over a thousand light-years at this point, with of course my FSD to thank, but each and every stop has surprised me some little tiny bit. Four suns in close orbit to eachother, my first black hole, staring at the first A- and O- class stars to grace my ship with their white sheen... and, of course, my first destination past Earth itself: The Coal Sack.
As many know it is a dense cloud of particles, largely made up of carbon, hydrogen, and other combustible star-makers. In a few thousand years it'll surely coalesce in on itself and light like a match, making a whole cluster of new stars to explore. Give it a few hundred thousand more and whoever's still around might just colonize the resulting worlds! But seeing it in person, getting closer and closer until you're finally enveloped in it... A little blurb I jotted down as I sat within the shielding darkness tries to explain:
It is difficult to describe how black the Coal Sack is. Though others have it listed only as a stepping stone on their journey, for me, it is my first destination, and it's quite lonely. From the outside, it is an obvious, dark gash that makes you realize just how much of the surrounding space is actually polluted in light, from each and every star and the galactic haze that makes the Milky Way. From the inside, it is black. The gash you saw, perhaps a speck in the distance or a tower as you near, is now all around you. Stars penetrate it from all sides, making an impressive display that reminds me of a low-tech planetarium, but it is simply black. There is no galactic horizon, no other nebulae; you are surrounded by coal, dust that you nearly feel as you fly through, a blackness too oppressive to be called inky.
Running away from it en route to the Witch Head nebula, it was eerie to see it staring back at me, a towering virtual hole in the galaxy. From there on out it was much more routine, sadly, though following the tips from Galnet chat-pals at least led me to enough water worlds to make up for the investment in this ship already. As I mentioned I've already made the leg to my third destination, and the view really is quite spectacular, though not nearly so stalking as the memory of the Coal Sack. There I felt compelled to write out of an explorer's shock, here I write with the violet hues out my window comforting me, being my muse.
There is still a journey ahead. Though I cross two more names out I have five more destinations, even if four are essentially all together. I feel more accomplished with each star I cross... but the loneliness is getting to me. I used to be so on guard, the feeling of glancing at every contact in the system a common one to me. But now, there's nobody out here. I haven't seen a soul since Hutton Orbital (that's why the courier mission paid six figures!) when that Commander hogged the Medium dock in a gosh-dang Cobra.
At least I got the mug and the Centauri Mega Gin to drink out of it.
SolThe Coal StackWitch Head Nebula- Barnard's Loop, which includes:
- -Orion Nebula
- -Horsehead Nebula
- -Running Man Nebula
- California Nebula