And just like that the stars straighten in front of us.

Our Starcraft shakes, an effect of the Photon Phlaps™️ as we outjump from Translight at Waypoint Victor Tango IVO the SCR 1845-6357 star system.

“MECO completed on schedule,” she says from her flight coach at the NAV. “I hit this one right on the nose.”

“Deploy spoilers,” I say. “I need to open the sensor array.”

The deep-sounding drone whine of the Translight Motor powering down is omnipresent, surrounding us and vibrating our flesh and bones, not in a pleasant way nor in an unpleasant way—just a way.

The aroma of cooked high-end hot dogs and lightly-toasted buns floods the COMM deck, a side effect from the Translight jump.

I immediately think of a grain mustard provincial and stuff, and am desirous of dog and bun without the sin of ketchup (or catsup).

“Can I plot a jump or what?” she says. She’s pleased.

“Indeed,” is all I can muster, my voice stale, my breath heavy from the overcooked fish I had yesterday.

From my vantage and through the flight deck’s wide clear canopy, the ruddy light of the star system’s ultra cool red dwarf splashes a deep red hue over the interior of the COMM deck.

A puzzled look from her. “You feel okay?”

I exhale with a certain sigh. “I’m fine. Let’s get on with this.”

“Okay,” she says. “I’m curious, though. What lead you to becoming a interstellar gas specialist?”

“Ready to run the simulation,” I say.

“Begin,” she says.

I ease back on my flight coach as the A.I. begins probing. “Interest in gas runs in my family, if you must know. We have a long history there.”

She nods.

We’ve only done two missions together. This one just involves routine simulation of a bifurcated void interaction near the red dwarf’s outer atmosphere layer. But no matter.

“There are certain gas emissions that shape our reality,” I say. “Or at least what we perceive is reality.”

She smiles. “Your simulation is online.”