The Way Back.
16 Oct 2017Gmanharmon
16OCT330308:37
Some good news, and some bad news, and some great news. It's been a long time since I put words to paper, and I figure now is as good a time as ever.
The USS Constitution II is safely berthed in Polo Harbour, within the Boewnst KS-S c20-959 system. The nebula is beautiful from 2 jumps out, all reds and greens, like the old pagan Christmas traditions. Her hull is at 97%, her integrity is shot to hell, her paint is peeling from the punishment of supercruise (not from overall trip length, despite arguments to the contrary), her heat sinks are empty, her floors are creaking, and her captain needs a strong cup of coffee and a whisky.
Terra firma.
The bad news. My charge, one Mr Graham Price (I originally called him Mr Greene in an earlier entry, and now I feel no remorse for the mistake), decided that, after being stuck in his stateroom for the better part of 30,000 light-years, bearing witness to not one, but FOUR black holes, and being one of the first Humans to lay eyes on several hundred thousand unexplored worlds and stellar bodies, would not stand being scanned by system security upon entrance to Polo Harbour. As we are in an Anaconda, barring silent running or a cloaking field, such a large ship will turn a head or two. So, with a huff, he and his entourage for their fly-by-night television program alighted in a huff no sooner than the Constitution's landing gear kissed the pad. A split second earlier through the airlock and they would have been floating around in space, slowly suffocating from lack of breathable air. I heard the little tramp utter an oath as he passed the bridge, and I would have none of it on my vessel. I retrieved the .45 pistol from my coat and chambered a cartridge, but the airlock had just sealed shut behind them before I had time to align a proper sight picture, along with the reward of 32 million credits that would have awaited me back home.
You will live to see another day, Mr Price, I affirmed silently, but it will not be on my ship. I unloaded my pistol and placed it back in its holster, a fine piece for being almost two millenia old, and it deserves an entry all its own. However, bad news has gotten out of the way.
The original objective was this black hole and its tourist beacon, but we've completed so much more.
The good news. Despite losing out on 32 million credits from a passenger mission, the exploration data submitted to Universal Cartographics instead filled my coffers, to the tune of seventy-two million five hundred fifty-three thousand five hundred fifty-three credits. Just a bit over twice what they originally offered me. Or, to put it in more fungible terms, enough to decently outfit a Python.
The great news. The total haul from Universal Cartographics also earned me the privilege of having my name appear on a total of two hundred sixty-nine previously undiscovered stars and planets, and plenty of those are terraformable earth-likes, water worlds, and planets of high metal content. I can finally see what this exploration business is all about. But for my next excursion, I do believe I will forego the idea of hauling human cargo, and simply see the sights for myself as they come, on my time, and on my terms.
The galaxy is a beautiful place.
Now, ordinarily, Polo Harbour is the last stop on the Colonia Connection Highway, but I shall visit them another time. For now, the bubble calls me home. I set off again at dawn to the next waypoint on the return leg, suddenly remembering that the new starport at Rohini was recently constructed, thanks in no small part to my previous contributions to the Chapterhouse's plea for materials to expand the Colonia Highway. I will do well to mark it on my map. This ends my logbook entry for the past several days.
Before I forget, I tried to rig up my ship's computer through the frame-shift drive to send my exploration data through witchspace to Sol via the FTL gateways. I wonder how that turned out...
Fair winds and following seas to my fellow Commanders on their own trips through the deep black, no matter how far they may go.
My first pilgrimage to the centre. She did not disappoint.