Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
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Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
I'm hoping you're pushing on to pastures new Broadsword. Surely there is more unexplored planets and what not to see.
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Broadsword
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- Joined: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:54 pm
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Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Interlude
"And remember my friend, all past experience is but an arch wherethrough gleams the untravelled future, whose margin fades ever and forever when we move on. Do not rest from travel, drink life to the lees, roam always with a hungry heart, for it is dull to pause, to rest, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use.
My own time comes upon me, and I have not now that strength which in old times moved me to the heavens. Death closes all, but something ere the end, some work of noble note may yet be done.
The long day wanes, the slow moon climbs. The depths of space call to me with many voices. There lies the port, the vessel strains her cables, there gloom the dark broad skies. I shall push off, and sitting well in order press the bounds of night, for my purpose holds - to follow knowledge like a sinking star, until I die.
I take my leave of you now. Go wither your heart would lead you, but always remember - 'tis not too late to seek the newest worlds.
Your friend,
Dan."
I read the letter once more by the glow of the nebula, and reflected as always that Dan's letters wouldn't sound half as nice if he didn't keep stealing from Tennyson. Dan had disappeared into the depths of space five years ago after scoring a CRIT*. Said he wanted to find just one more Earthlike planet to put his name to before the cancer ate him up.
Of course, it's pretty typical of a guy who likes to name planets after himself that he'd disappear off into the long dark rather than opt to die peacefully in a hospital somewhere in the bubble. If he'd done that we'd have mourned him and moved on, but as it is five years later I still find myself wondering exactly how he met his end - did he ever find that one last Earthlike? Was it deep in the core, or far out on the rim? Did he land on it and spend his last hours lying on a beautiful tropical beach bathed in alien sunlight? Or did he opt to die up in the black, cracking his cockpit seals when the meds ran out and the pain got too much for him?
* Cosmic Radiation Induced Tumour
Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.
Narcissistic sonofabitch would be pleased as punch to see me hanging here in space wasting my time imagining his death. But it was his memory that had brought me out this far, and now that I had to decide what course to set it was only right that I went back to his letters. Of course, there was only ever going to be one result of that. Dan had always evangelised the explorer's life, and 'put your back to the bubble and turn on the jets' was his stock answer to pretty much any question, be it 'what's the best way to earn a living?', 'what's the best way to avoid your ex-wife?' or, in this case, 'what's my next move?'
Also a good answer for, 'How do I hide my farts when we're in the Jacuzzi?'
It was obvious, I suppose. I'd made it to my goal, made a full sensor sweep of the nebula, and along the way I'd visited black holes, neutron stars, and discovered a brand new Earthlike world. So faced with a choice between going home to reap the rewards or pressing on into the unknown, there was really only one choice. After all, if I took the easy route that bastard would probably haunt me forever.
Still, if I was going to go forwards I'd need to make some changes. This was supposed to be a little shakedown cruise, and I'd planned on having a naming ceremony when I got back to a decent shipyard, but I didn't like pressing on into the black in an unnamed ship. So I grabbed my emergency suit and a plasma welder and hopped outside to burn some new artwork on my port condensor cowling. In honour of the slightly awkward shaping of my vessel, I'd decided to call her 'The Golden Gobbo', gobbo being Old-Earth Italian for 'hunchback'.
What hump?
Heading back inside, I pried loose a few panels to expose the guts of my ship's computer. Three weeks out from Achelous I was already starting to feel pretty isolated with only a basic no-personality computer and a datacore full of Old-Earth vidshows for company. Twenty-four hours and a lot of rewiring later I'd managed to schizophrenise the computer into three new control systems and give each of them a bit of personality. Hopefully the three of them would be enough to stop me from going completely crazy out here.
The main computer would still run all the ship's major systems - reactor control, power distribution, frameshift drive, life support and the entertainment system. I decided to give her a female personality since there was nobody out here to judge me, and according to my vidshow library there's only one name for a hot girl who hangs around with a hunchback - Esmerelda.
The best part of being an explorer is the view
Although Esmerelda would be doing most of the heavy lifting, there were two systems that I spent a lot of my time with that I'd decided to give their own personalities. The first was the Navcom. For trading within the bubble my interaction with the Navcom had been nothing more demanding than pointing to a star two hops away and pressing 'plot course', but out here I was spending long hours staring at starcharts and trying to find the most interesting (and potentially lucrative) systems to visit. I'd decided to model the Navcom's personality on Dan, in the hope that his constant enthusiasm for things just over the horizon would keep me optimisitc as the journey went on. I didn't have a holo of Dan to use, but the datacore had plenty of pics of Old-Earth explorers to base him on.
Authentic Victorian space-explorer garb...
My other major timesink is in-system cartography and surface scanning, so I programmed myself a nice stellar and planetary scientist computer. His rambling, slightly distracted but deeply enthusiastic voice can bring some interest to even the most worthless rocks, and when we actually come across something interesting I expect to hear some choice exclamations.
Great Scot!
So with my 'crew' assembled, I'm now ready to turn my back on civilisation for a while and see what else I can find out there in the 'verse. Maybe I'll find more Earthlikes, maybe I'll find intelligent alien life, maybe I'll just find rocks. But whatever happens, we'll be following in Dan's metaphorical footsteps, and getting all our best lines from Tennyson.
'To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars... to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'
...to be continued.
"And remember my friend, all past experience is but an arch wherethrough gleams the untravelled future, whose margin fades ever and forever when we move on. Do not rest from travel, drink life to the lees, roam always with a hungry heart, for it is dull to pause, to rest, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use.
My own time comes upon me, and I have not now that strength which in old times moved me to the heavens. Death closes all, but something ere the end, some work of noble note may yet be done.
The long day wanes, the slow moon climbs. The depths of space call to me with many voices. There lies the port, the vessel strains her cables, there gloom the dark broad skies. I shall push off, and sitting well in order press the bounds of night, for my purpose holds - to follow knowledge like a sinking star, until I die.
I take my leave of you now. Go wither your heart would lead you, but always remember - 'tis not too late to seek the newest worlds.
Your friend,
Dan."
I read the letter once more by the glow of the nebula, and reflected as always that Dan's letters wouldn't sound half as nice if he didn't keep stealing from Tennyson. Dan had disappeared into the depths of space five years ago after scoring a CRIT*. Said he wanted to find just one more Earthlike planet to put his name to before the cancer ate him up.
Of course, it's pretty typical of a guy who likes to name planets after himself that he'd disappear off into the long dark rather than opt to die peacefully in a hospital somewhere in the bubble. If he'd done that we'd have mourned him and moved on, but as it is five years later I still find myself wondering exactly how he met his end - did he ever find that one last Earthlike? Was it deep in the core, or far out on the rim? Did he land on it and spend his last hours lying on a beautiful tropical beach bathed in alien sunlight? Or did he opt to die up in the black, cracking his cockpit seals when the meds ran out and the pain got too much for him?
* Cosmic Radiation Induced Tumour
Death smiles at us all. All a man can do is smile back.
Narcissistic sonofabitch would be pleased as punch to see me hanging here in space wasting my time imagining his death. But it was his memory that had brought me out this far, and now that I had to decide what course to set it was only right that I went back to his letters. Of course, there was only ever going to be one result of that. Dan had always evangelised the explorer's life, and 'put your back to the bubble and turn on the jets' was his stock answer to pretty much any question, be it 'what's the best way to earn a living?', 'what's the best way to avoid your ex-wife?' or, in this case, 'what's my next move?'
Also a good answer for, 'How do I hide my farts when we're in the Jacuzzi?'
It was obvious, I suppose. I'd made it to my goal, made a full sensor sweep of the nebula, and along the way I'd visited black holes, neutron stars, and discovered a brand new Earthlike world. So faced with a choice between going home to reap the rewards or pressing on into the unknown, there was really only one choice. After all, if I took the easy route that bastard would probably haunt me forever.
Still, if I was going to go forwards I'd need to make some changes. This was supposed to be a little shakedown cruise, and I'd planned on having a naming ceremony when I got back to a decent shipyard, but I didn't like pressing on into the black in an unnamed ship. So I grabbed my emergency suit and a plasma welder and hopped outside to burn some new artwork on my port condensor cowling. In honour of the slightly awkward shaping of my vessel, I'd decided to call her 'The Golden Gobbo', gobbo being Old-Earth Italian for 'hunchback'.
What hump?
Heading back inside, I pried loose a few panels to expose the guts of my ship's computer. Three weeks out from Achelous I was already starting to feel pretty isolated with only a basic no-personality computer and a datacore full of Old-Earth vidshows for company. Twenty-four hours and a lot of rewiring later I'd managed to schizophrenise the computer into three new control systems and give each of them a bit of personality. Hopefully the three of them would be enough to stop me from going completely crazy out here.
The main computer would still run all the ship's major systems - reactor control, power distribution, frameshift drive, life support and the entertainment system. I decided to give her a female personality since there was nobody out here to judge me, and according to my vidshow library there's only one name for a hot girl who hangs around with a hunchback - Esmerelda.
The best part of being an explorer is the view
Although Esmerelda would be doing most of the heavy lifting, there were two systems that I spent a lot of my time with that I'd decided to give their own personalities. The first was the Navcom. For trading within the bubble my interaction with the Navcom had been nothing more demanding than pointing to a star two hops away and pressing 'plot course', but out here I was spending long hours staring at starcharts and trying to find the most interesting (and potentially lucrative) systems to visit. I'd decided to model the Navcom's personality on Dan, in the hope that his constant enthusiasm for things just over the horizon would keep me optimisitc as the journey went on. I didn't have a holo of Dan to use, but the datacore had plenty of pics of Old-Earth explorers to base him on.
Authentic Victorian space-explorer garb...
My other major timesink is in-system cartography and surface scanning, so I programmed myself a nice stellar and planetary scientist computer. His rambling, slightly distracted but deeply enthusiastic voice can bring some interest to even the most worthless rocks, and when we actually come across something interesting I expect to hear some choice exclamations.
Great Scot!
So with my 'crew' assembled, I'm now ready to turn my back on civilisation for a while and see what else I can find out there in the 'verse. Maybe I'll find more Earthlikes, maybe I'll find intelligent alien life, maybe I'll just find rocks. But whatever happens, we'll be following in Dan's metaphorical footsteps, and getting all our best lines from Tennyson.
'To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of all the western stars... to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.'
...to be continued.
I must go up to the skies again, to the peace of silent flight, To the gull’s way, and the hawk’s way, and the free wings’ delight;
And all I ask is a friendly joke with a laughing fellow rover, And a large beer, and a deep sleep, when the long flight’s over.
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Oh this is such a joy to read! Lovely writing and artwork mate - I'm sat here grinning away and eagerly anticipating the next instalment. I sense things are about to get even more interesting.
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Broadsword wrote:
Also a good answer for, 'How do I hide my farts when we're in the Jacuzzi?'
BrilliantI love this series, keep them coming
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Broadsword
- Posts: 3124
- Joined: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:54 pm
- Location: Cheshire, UK
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Part Four - Dropping out of the Disc
"Well, there are plenty of stars out there to chose from, and any one of them might bring us the discovery of the century." Hologram-Dan had it's back turned to me as though staring out at the 'verse, though of course the information it took directly from the ship's sensors would be the same whichever way it faced.
"And there's the problem in a nutshell, Dan. Since any one of those stars might be the greatest discovery in the history of mankind, there's no way to choose between them. I need to find a different way to pick a course. Maybe we'll just keep heading towards the Eta Carinae Nebula."
"Well, as long as we don't just head straight there like everyone else. Zipping along well-trodden paths at full speed, trying to get to the big shiny landmarks without stopping to sniff the sulphur along the way. That's not exploring, that's sightseeing." Apparently I'd managed to program him with a pretty hefty dose of disdain.
Nebulae - they're all pink on the inside
"Fair enough then, but having an eventual target in mind will stop me from feeling aimless." Staring at the galactic map I came to a decision. "We'll try to end up at the Eta Carinae Nebula, but rather than go straight there in everyone else's footsteps, we'll start by heading south out of the disc as far as we can go, then dogleg towards the nebula along what should be a virgin route."
With the decision made we put our heads down and plotted a route taking the Golden Gobbo almost due south until the stars started to thin out. There was a tantalising scattering of white dwarf stars about a thousand light years below our current position, but by about the 800ly mark things were thinning out enough to bar the way since we could only leap 33ly at a time. Eventually I was satisfisfied that I'd come up with a course that took us about as far south as we could go. Taking a moment to appreciate one of the brighter constellations in view, I spooled up the frameshift drive and set off.
I name this constellation, "The Great Boobies"
This turned out to be one of my better ideas, since the systems on this route seemed to have more than their fair share of interesting sights. The planets were often just boring lumps of rock or ice, but with a nice variety of orbital mechanics. I came across two tidally-locked cinders dancing round each other and their star...
The future's so bright, I gotta use polarised glass and A-grade EM shielding
...followed by two remarkably matched ice worlds in an equally tight orbit.
'Planetary scientists hate this one amazing trick to get rid of stretch marks'
The orbital plotter suggested that at closest approach they would barely miss each other, and I considered hanging around for a week or so to see the sight, but I was on a roll now and chose to press on.
Further south, as the stars started to thin, I came across a rather smart ringed ice world with the widest ring-spacing I've yet seen.
Each ring had a slightly different mix of rock, ice and metal, making for an interesting hour of exploration before I moved on.
Three or four systems later I found a terraformable water world with ice caps that reached nearly to the equator. The lifeforms on it must be phenomenally tough.
You can live on it, but it tastes like shit
By now we were getting well below the plane of the galaxy, and the route became more and more tortuous as I struggled to find stars within reach of my FSD engines. Eventually, although the map still showed a scattering of stars below me, there was nowhere to jump to, or even to look at.
Looking north - stars, dust, underboob.
Looking south - nothing visible from here to the Magellanic Clouds
It was time now to turn back northwards for a hop or two and then try to head towards our goal. Two jumps up I came across a nice busy system, which gave me plenty to explore before I set off widdershins towards Eta Carinae.
Yes, yes, it's all very pretty, but is it worth anything?
Pretty soon I'd discovered another close world pair, this time two rocky worlds in a stable orbit with just about room for a third in between.
Balls, or something
But I was getting a little tired of these rock and ice balls now, and had a hankering for something more colourful. I settled into a pattern of Scan-Jump, Scan-Jump, ignoring the rocks and snowballs that seemed to be the only planets in system after system, but finally I found something that took my interest, a little glitter of colour after lightyears of monochromatic boredom.
Setting course, I discovered that the vagaries of orbital mechanics had me approaching from the far side of the planet's single airless moon. I dropped speed and checked out the moon first. It looked as though it had taken a pretty decent pounding at some point.
I'm sure it'll buff out
After taking measurements of the age of the craters, I circled my way around the moon to see if the planet would live up to expectation. I was not disappointed.
'The Deathstar has cleared the planet'
Thanks to my wandering path I'd stumbled across another undiscovered Earthlike world. It's even colder here than on New Gravesend, but very pretty. The planet is about one third the mass of Earth, and the moon is about one third the mass of Earth's moon, so together the pair make up a very convincing miniaturised version of the home of mankind.
666 Rock! Hell Yeah
I drifted slowly over, drinking in every detail of the new world that I have decided to call 'Tiny Terra'. I think Dan would have been pleased.
"Well, there are plenty of stars out there to chose from, and any one of them might bring us the discovery of the century." Hologram-Dan had it's back turned to me as though staring out at the 'verse, though of course the information it took directly from the ship's sensors would be the same whichever way it faced.
"And there's the problem in a nutshell, Dan. Since any one of those stars might be the greatest discovery in the history of mankind, there's no way to choose between them. I need to find a different way to pick a course. Maybe we'll just keep heading towards the Eta Carinae Nebula."
"Well, as long as we don't just head straight there like everyone else. Zipping along well-trodden paths at full speed, trying to get to the big shiny landmarks without stopping to sniff the sulphur along the way. That's not exploring, that's sightseeing." Apparently I'd managed to program him with a pretty hefty dose of disdain.
Nebulae - they're all pink on the inside
"Fair enough then, but having an eventual target in mind will stop me from feeling aimless." Staring at the galactic map I came to a decision. "We'll try to end up at the Eta Carinae Nebula, but rather than go straight there in everyone else's footsteps, we'll start by heading south out of the disc as far as we can go, then dogleg towards the nebula along what should be a virgin route."
With the decision made we put our heads down and plotted a route taking the Golden Gobbo almost due south until the stars started to thin out. There was a tantalising scattering of white dwarf stars about a thousand light years below our current position, but by about the 800ly mark things were thinning out enough to bar the way since we could only leap 33ly at a time. Eventually I was satisfisfied that I'd come up with a course that took us about as far south as we could go. Taking a moment to appreciate one of the brighter constellations in view, I spooled up the frameshift drive and set off.
I name this constellation, "The Great Boobies"
This turned out to be one of my better ideas, since the systems on this route seemed to have more than their fair share of interesting sights. The planets were often just boring lumps of rock or ice, but with a nice variety of orbital mechanics. I came across two tidally-locked cinders dancing round each other and their star...
The future's so bright, I gotta use polarised glass and A-grade EM shielding
...followed by two remarkably matched ice worlds in an equally tight orbit.
'Planetary scientists hate this one amazing trick to get rid of stretch marks'
The orbital plotter suggested that at closest approach they would barely miss each other, and I considered hanging around for a week or so to see the sight, but I was on a roll now and chose to press on.
Further south, as the stars started to thin, I came across a rather smart ringed ice world with the widest ring-spacing I've yet seen.
Each ring had a slightly different mix of rock, ice and metal, making for an interesting hour of exploration before I moved on.
Three or four systems later I found a terraformable water world with ice caps that reached nearly to the equator. The lifeforms on it must be phenomenally tough.
You can live on it, but it tastes like shit
By now we were getting well below the plane of the galaxy, and the route became more and more tortuous as I struggled to find stars within reach of my FSD engines. Eventually, although the map still showed a scattering of stars below me, there was nowhere to jump to, or even to look at.
Looking north - stars, dust, underboob.
Looking south - nothing visible from here to the Magellanic Clouds
It was time now to turn back northwards for a hop or two and then try to head towards our goal. Two jumps up I came across a nice busy system, which gave me plenty to explore before I set off widdershins towards Eta Carinae.
Yes, yes, it's all very pretty, but is it worth anything?
Pretty soon I'd discovered another close world pair, this time two rocky worlds in a stable orbit with just about room for a third in between.
Balls, or something
But I was getting a little tired of these rock and ice balls now, and had a hankering for something more colourful. I settled into a pattern of Scan-Jump, Scan-Jump, ignoring the rocks and snowballs that seemed to be the only planets in system after system, but finally I found something that took my interest, a little glitter of colour after lightyears of monochromatic boredom.
Setting course, I discovered that the vagaries of orbital mechanics had me approaching from the far side of the planet's single airless moon. I dropped speed and checked out the moon first. It looked as though it had taken a pretty decent pounding at some point.
I'm sure it'll buff out
After taking measurements of the age of the craters, I circled my way around the moon to see if the planet would live up to expectation. I was not disappointed.
'The Deathstar has cleared the planet'
Thanks to my wandering path I'd stumbled across another undiscovered Earthlike world. It's even colder here than on New Gravesend, but very pretty. The planet is about one third the mass of Earth, and the moon is about one third the mass of Earth's moon, so together the pair make up a very convincing miniaturised version of the home of mankind.
666 Rock! Hell Yeah
I drifted slowly over, drinking in every detail of the new world that I have decided to call 'Tiny Terra'. I think Dan would have been pleased.
I must go up to the skies again, to the peace of silent flight, To the gull’s way, and the hawk’s way, and the free wings’ delight;
And all I ask is a friendly joke with a laughing fellow rover, And a large beer, and a deep sleep, when the long flight’s over.
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Great stuff. Just a question though... do you ever get attacked so far out by AI craft - or are you totally on your lonesome out there?
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Broadsword
- Posts: 3124
- Joined: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:54 pm
- Location: Cheshire, UK
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Outside the bubble there's a twilight zone where you can still run into pirates and suchlike, but that only extends maybe 50-100ly beyond inhabited space. At the moment I'm roughly 7000ly from Sol, so I've been alone for a while. In theory other PCs might stumble on me, but what are the odds? At the moment there are no alien ships in the game, but when they get added I'd imagine that explorers are going to have to radically change their outfitting. More likely they'll keep the Thargoids in just one area of space so that fighters can go fight, and explorers know to avoid the area...
I must go up to the skies again, to the peace of silent flight, To the gull’s way, and the hawk’s way, and the free wings’ delight;
And all I ask is a friendly joke with a laughing fellow rover, And a large beer, and a deep sleep, when the long flight’s over.
-
Broadsword
- Posts: 3124
- Joined: Wed Sep 03, 2014 7:54 pm
- Location: Cheshire, UK
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Part Five - On the Road Again
“As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.”
― Herman Melville
“Equipped with his five senses, man explores the universe around him and calls the adventure Science.”
― Edwin Hubble
Observing the world beneath me from the safety of my vessel I stayed in orbit around Tiny Terra for many days, letting the sensors drink in terabytes of biome data.
Oh, well done! The toilet's draining into the cockpit again!
The world was fascinating, and every minute of every orbit seemed filled with new discoveries and little surprises. Despite its diminutive size the world sported an amazing variety of surface features, from meager mountains and dinky deserts to bitty beaches and skimpy seas.
Also: Weeny woodlands and paltry ponds.
But eventually the delights of scanning my little world were more or less exhausted, and I started to yearn for vistas new. There was still a whole galaxy out there to explore, and I'd lingered over this one little slice of it for long enough. Whilst planetary science was a nice diversion, I really wanted to travel once more. I'd set myself a target and now it was time to get back on track.
Plus, the parking here is fucking expensive.
With a tinge of regret I set course once more for the Eta Carina Nebula, still nearly 1500ly ahead of me. Slowly she began to grow once more, getting a little larger and brighter in my view with every jump. But with so much ground to cover, I couldn't help but stumble on some more wondrous sites.
The ring's the thing.
Suddenly space was full of interesting things to see and do, and before long I stopped missing my little blue and green marble. The lightyears popped by as I scanned the worlds dancing round every class of star from tiny little red dwarfs to blazing blue giants.
It's too orangey for crows, it's just for me and my dog.
Eventually I even came across a world with an ammonia-based lifecycle. According to my scanners there were some fairly large, active lifeforms down there, trudging their way through the poisonous hydrocarbon sludge. There were no signs of intelligent life though, and the world itself was probably useless to humanity except as a curiosity.
Methane, ethane, hethane, whothane? Youthane?
In the same system I discovered a water world teeming with aquatic life. The atmosphere was 50% water vapour, 50% oxygen with a pressure of over a hundred earth-atmospheres. It would probably be quite difficult to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. The fish here would find evolving to leave the water relatively easy, but of course having done that they'd find there was pretty much nowhere interesting to go.
"These Kaminoans keep to themselves. They're cloners, dead good ones too."
But despite all the distractions I kept heading in the general direction of the Eta Carina Nebula, and gradually it grew to dominate the sky.
We three kings of orient are, one in a taxi, one in a car, one on a scooter beeping his hooter, following yonder star.
There was still a long way to go, but at least I was moving again, slowly covering the lightyears towards my target, my ship performing flawlessly, and all the while drinking in the wondrous sights of system after system as I went.
I'll have a large Mochachocalatte please, with extra cream.
To be continued...
“As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.”
― Herman Melville
“Equipped with his five senses, man explores the universe around him and calls the adventure Science.”
― Edwin Hubble
Observing the world beneath me from the safety of my vessel I stayed in orbit around Tiny Terra for many days, letting the sensors drink in terabytes of biome data.
Oh, well done! The toilet's draining into the cockpit again!
The world was fascinating, and every minute of every orbit seemed filled with new discoveries and little surprises. Despite its diminutive size the world sported an amazing variety of surface features, from meager mountains and dinky deserts to bitty beaches and skimpy seas.
Also: Weeny woodlands and paltry ponds.
But eventually the delights of scanning my little world were more or less exhausted, and I started to yearn for vistas new. There was still a whole galaxy out there to explore, and I'd lingered over this one little slice of it for long enough. Whilst planetary science was a nice diversion, I really wanted to travel once more. I'd set myself a target and now it was time to get back on track.
Plus, the parking here is fucking expensive.
With a tinge of regret I set course once more for the Eta Carina Nebula, still nearly 1500ly ahead of me. Slowly she began to grow once more, getting a little larger and brighter in my view with every jump. But with so much ground to cover, I couldn't help but stumble on some more wondrous sites.
The ring's the thing.
Suddenly space was full of interesting things to see and do, and before long I stopped missing my little blue and green marble. The lightyears popped by as I scanned the worlds dancing round every class of star from tiny little red dwarfs to blazing blue giants.
It's too orangey for crows, it's just for me and my dog.
Eventually I even came across a world with an ammonia-based lifecycle. According to my scanners there were some fairly large, active lifeforms down there, trudging their way through the poisonous hydrocarbon sludge. There were no signs of intelligent life though, and the world itself was probably useless to humanity except as a curiosity.
Methane, ethane, hethane, whothane? Youthane?
In the same system I discovered a water world teeming with aquatic life. The atmosphere was 50% water vapour, 50% oxygen with a pressure of over a hundred earth-atmospheres. It would probably be quite difficult to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. The fish here would find evolving to leave the water relatively easy, but of course having done that they'd find there was pretty much nowhere interesting to go.
"These Kaminoans keep to themselves. They're cloners, dead good ones too."
But despite all the distractions I kept heading in the general direction of the Eta Carina Nebula, and gradually it grew to dominate the sky.
We three kings of orient are, one in a taxi, one in a car, one on a scooter beeping his hooter, following yonder star.
There was still a long way to go, but at least I was moving again, slowly covering the lightyears towards my target, my ship performing flawlessly, and all the while drinking in the wondrous sights of system after system as I went.
I'll have a large Mochachocalatte please, with extra cream.
To be continued...
I must go up to the skies again, to the peace of silent flight, To the gull’s way, and the hawk’s way, and the free wings’ delight;
And all I ask is a friendly joke with a laughing fellow rover, And a large beer, and a deep sleep, when the long flight’s over.
Re: Into the Long Dark - a sort of Captain's Log
Fantastic as ever Broadsword! I have more questions for you, but another time and thread 
“It is a mistake to think you can solve any major problems just with potatoes I-16s.” - Douglas Adams
