At this point in my life I look at and learn star charts obsessively. If there is a single thing out of place, I am willing to go around – a long way around.
I learned this in a lot of different ways, but the hardest way was the first and the last time I allowed a freighter I was running to be part of a convoy.
We were doing a convoy because ships were not making it through this route reliably – piracy was a thought, but the fleet responsible for keeping things safe had not caught any pirates yet, so, we figured we would enhance our weaponry and our shields and keep each other safe.
The problem was that our map of the region was off – to be expected, because that region of the galaxy was new to human exploration and settlement, but one didn't expect a whole star cluster to be out of place.
It was a beauty, too, full of pale blue-white stars that lit up a good deal of dust and gas.
Co-Captain Rufus Dixon was on the bridge when we were on approach. He didn't trust it.
“Kirk, I know you just went to sleep, but remember that star cluster that showed up? I'm looking at it and I don't like the looks of it. Please come to the bridge.”
Going around was going to be costly, according to the readings – the cluster was big.
But Dix was my co-captain in addition to being the master engineer and my business partner because of his instincts. If he said it didn't look good, I could have turned over and gone back to sleep and let him make the decision and been fine with it.
But there was the whole convoy to consider, and why we were breaking out of the middle … all those nameless fears and social pressures that went with them. He respected me enough to not just do what he could have done.
“I'm on my way – let me get on my proper clothes.”
I was half-asleep and so had a decision to make when stepping on the bridge – bunny slippers or bare feet? I had forgotten to put on my work shoes.
Then again, nobody was looking at my feet anyhow. Everyone was either looking at the screen or listening to Dix.
“Look, I know what the sensors are saying, but there have been five star charts of this region and none of them show a star cluster right here! These things don't just pop up out of nowhere!”
I regret to say that even at this advanced date in human history, some of the old problems from Earth remain. Dix was of African American descent, and there were still a few people from that part of the world that threw out a nasty reminder whenever they didn't like what he had to say.
Dix was unbothered.
“I don't argue with people four centuries behind in their thinking. You do what you want to do; I've warned you. “
“I agree with you, Dix,” I said. “I don't like it either, and we're not going in there.”
So: we got out of formation at that point, and the ship in the lead – with Captain He-Don't-Know-It Ain't-1865 in command – went on in. We zoomed in our viewscreen as far as we could to track him, and by visual evidence confirmed – those could not have been stars he was passing. Not at that rate.
And then he disappeared from both sensor and visual view. Gone.
We would have been gone in the next minute if – and I kid you not – the thing posing as a star cluster hadn't stopped to lick its lips before advancing on the next ten ships.
“Oh, [insert any number of unholy words I had to ask the Lord's forgiveness for after the fact] NO! Evasive action!”
All that dust and gas? Just that, gas. The creature broke wind after eating ships.
We were now the leaders of the convoy, and we led it in full retreat, sending distress signals and data out on all bands.
Cousin J.T. himself, in his beautiful fleet flagship, dropped out of warp ten minutes later, and we and he and the other fleet ships that arrived soon after (mostly he and they) destroyed the creature.
They had been in route anyhow, seeing what was going on, but the creature was distorting their attempts to warn us – after all, it had the ability to scramble sensor readings to the point that captains lacking Dix's instincts kept flying right into its mouth, thinking they were passing through just another star cluster.
Cousin J.T. is still laughing about the incident.
“I can't believe you helped blast a new whole life form into oblivion in bunny slippers!”
“Everybody can't Kirk out here like you do, Admiral,” I always say.
This is the same fractal in Apophysis that was throwing the pairs ... but now zoomed out for a different rendering, and I'll be sharing more of these as the week progresses!