As I write this, I'm weaving my way through hundreds of stars on our way back to Carthage. We have four days until I am in breach of my orders with the Legion Office of Military Incursion, but we decided it would be nice to get a head start so we don't have to rush through the glorious void. If we make ample time, we may search more local systems for generally valuable data,
Unsurprisingly, our search showed up empty. Though we attempted various sensor readings at nearly a hundred of the potential target systems (91 to be exact), we were unable to pinpoint the exact source of the anomalous readouts. Even after an exponentially closer look, we have come up empty handed. However, we were able to map the general size of the anomaly, which seems to have a cohesive form. It appears to be nearly a triangular prism in shape, spanning hundreds of light years, but definitely focused in the Foewls sector. The Legion scientists are still baffled as to its origin, though. They're torn in hypotheses: Is it generated by technology beyond our comprehension by a race unknown, or is it a natural phenomenon? Perhaps a life-form? I responded to their musings by procuring another bottle of Achenar Blue whiskey, revealing that Hunter Bond and I decided to take a pit stop in Colonia. [...]
After we completed our target number of systems, we were definitely all frustrated after the final scan showed nothing progressive. The scientists retreated to their quarters while Hunter stayed with me on the bridge of the Oculus. "The black doesn't give her secrets up that easily, Praetor," Bond said with a solemn tone I've never heard before. "Yeah, stubborn bitch, right?" I replied. He smiled, and sighed. "Well, we didn't come out here seeking personal glory. We came under orders, but it's nice that our orders were to do something we damn well love." I nodded in agreement. "Good company, too. Thanks, Bond." He crossed his arms and smirked. "Well, we aren't home yet. I have a feeling that you aren't as uptight as the Praetor Council is cracked up to be." I turned around in my captain's chair. "Bond, don't test me. I can still banish you!" We laughed heartily. He stared out the canopy, as if eyeing a distant nebula. "Well, our orders are complete. Standard Imperial orders are to seek out stellar data on rare stars and potential terraforming candidates. What say we 'seek out data' in Colonia, and see what sort of grog those pioneers have whipped together?" I grinned widely. "You're a man after my own heart, Hunter Bond." I reached under the console and revealed another bottle of Achenar Blue whiskey, which was nearly full but clearly opened. "What say we tell the rest of them?" He grabbed the perfectly curved, shining blue bottle from my hands, and took a swig. With his left hand improperly draped across his heart, bottle still in hand, he saluted, "Ave, Praetor!" I got up from my seat and patted his back, walking past towards the corridors, "It's bastards like you in the Legion that are the reason our explorers don't find anything. You're too damn drunk to log anything properly." I turned around, and saluted. "Arissa Invicta, pilot." He grinned, and came along.