With the end to festive hostilities now in place I took myself down to Upaniklis to check out how our newest community are settling in. The Federation have obviously spent very little on the remote platform settlement as it provides little more than a couple of landing pads, basic repairs and a tourist shop for pilots to purchase the distinctively branded 'Apa Vietii' Golcondan liquor. It is a standard build Civilian Outpost that claims to be aligned with the "Golconda Union".

On the station, Upaniklis system is well served by representatives of the Constitutional Party of Upaniklis, the League of Upaniklis, the Revolutionary Upaniklis Free party, the Upaniklis Blue Syndicate and Upaniklis Vision Incorporated. There are also representatives from Duamta Gold Creative Corporation and Misiriang United Inc. No missions, no passengers and no Golconda representation whatsoever.

Station influence is harnessed by the Upaniklis Vision Inc (60%) whilst the sole Federation representative Duamta Gold Creative Corp. enjoys only 11% influence. No obvious transport has been made available for residents and no obvious means for the former crew of the Golconda to voice an opinion. Their former home decomposes nearby.

An agricultural structure sits agonisingly close yet distinctly separate from the Golcondans new home and the old Golconda is moored only a few kilometers away. A beacon of former independence dangled tantalisingly close to its former residents but now impossible for them to reach. Does that make the Golcondans prisoners in their posh new cell or a captive workforce for the farm? What an embarrassment we are to treat our own kind with such utter contempt. Naming the installation "Forester's Choice" must, to your average Golcondan, amount to nothing more than an incredibly offensive insult.

A small percentage of individuals made the decision that everyone now has to live by. According to my records this used to be called, 'politics' and 'democracy'. Then, as now, it is simply the means with which the largest and most vocal minority get to pretend that they represent a majority. Have we learned nothing in 1000 years?

3305 began, for me, late in 3304 at the most southerly refit available in our vast galaxy, to wit; Station X [Crab Sector DL-Y D9]. I chanced upon the construction in a woefully under prepared and totally unengineered vessel that was in need of almost as much remedial repair work as my poorly maintained body. My plans to spend time searching out and appeasing the many engineers that I had heard of had been put on hold.

I was going to call it home after the hospital and workshops did their best to undo the collective damage but was devastated to discover that 'shipyard' was not an option. It's an amazing vista though so I hung around the area for a while, gently exploring the surrounding area and doing a bit more research regarding the Formadine Rift that was to be the subject of my next random vector.

News in the Station was of a grand expedition to kick off early in the year and a fellow commander was urging me to consider it. Although not long after the ink dried on my Pilot's Licence I thought, "Why not?" After all, I had a 'Conda up north a ways that was waiting on the Jump Drive booster that I had just secured, it was well organised, there were support crews available and a pre-planned itinerary of stopovers and social events was already well underway.

That said, it was also a massive commitment and my convalescence was far from complete so I took the liberty of hiring a co-pilot in the shape of one of the nurses who had been tending to me and we set off for the bubble with a few weeks in hand before the event commenced. On a more constructive note, a communication had been sent during my journey to the Crab Nebula confirming that the 5KLY threshold was smashed by my current location so a certain Ms Farseer was offering to share her wisdoms.

So into 3305 ... 3 weeks for shakedown, 7Kylies to Ixilalana, collect Blitzkrieg, work with Felicity, collect a selection of important supplies for the trip, add Jump Drive Booster module and a 1st class cabin for my companion and dock back in Ixilalana for a couple of days before the mass jump. SORTED.

I'll not bore you with the daily routines of a trip from the Bubble to Beagle Point or the many diversions taken en route but suffice to say we made it, in excellent time, contributed to the mining initiative that resulted in the construction and placement of Anchorage Point, explored around Sag*A, paid respects to CMDR Thomaski, landed at Beagle Point and Salome's Reach, ran a sequence of 50 consecutive neutron boosted jumps en route to Colonia on the return journey AND made a tidy sum in exploration data into the bargain. NICE.

The second half of the year saw me approach numerous engineers around the bubble and visit 100 different Guardian systems, team up with a couple of allies to go strip mining, make large cargo runs and assist in the policing of an area of space that is personal to them. Smaller exploratory ventures saw me landing on 'Strong-G' whilst checking out some of the spurious POI's marked out in the Forge map and meeting up with CMDR Yamiks for his anniversary. Dredging Guardian sites has netted me a full complement of ship upgrades and made me wonder what truth there is to these rumours of an alien race of space-born living ships.

Engineering up the old Python was a bit of a double-edged sword however as it has afforded me a more pronounced sense of self importance and caused me to realise that I have an unhealthy desire to see pirate ships vaporise. Have I lost that little shred of humanity? Was I ever even human?

I caught something out there in the black, out past Sag*A. Something dangerous. A pull for one more jump, one more scan, one push more, one tweaked jump further ... hour after hour, till my eyelids finally close and I have to feel my way from the cockpit to the growing pile of discarded material I call a bed. And it was there, lost in the single kelvins, I was hit by a massive wave of fear that I might never find my way back to the bubble or, worse still, that it might no longer exist; or worst of all, that it didn't actually matter to me any more. I can't stay still until darkness engulfs me completely and the most dangerous part of the journey now is that it is the black that is calling. I started taking risks that even Nursey concluded were borderline suicidal and it wasn't until an emergency planetary landing for extensive hull repairs that she finally persuaded me to start looking forwards once more. One route, one day ... one jump at a time.

And so, back at Station-X to consider my next move. Nursey was supposed to return to her other life but we've grown so attached over the year I suspect that when I turn around again she'll still be right there to support me. To be honest, I don't now what I'd do without her. It's not combat skill but compassion that I need to have around me.

But there you have it - 3305 [DW2] ... there and back again, a Hermit's tale. The old Earth tradition of blazing a tree effigy in honour of of caramelised soda shouts out to the galaxy that sol has, once more, witnessed a single circumnavigation by its third satellite, the little blue-green planet some 150 million km from it. The pagans there wish a Happy Solstice to all those who care to respect the ancient ways. I am off to gorge on some of the bubbles finest delicacies as I empty the last of my bottles of Lavian Brandy, best drunk from a Hutton Mug.

o7