Report from the NAV-77

Somewhere in the cold depths of space, the Navigator-77 floated like an interstellar Santa María. The oblong metal spear, which contained a crew of six and a plethora of scientific equipment, sailed near Betelgeuse. It was on the third year of its travels through space. The relatively young crew began their voyage, with no certain end point, from one of the many space stations orbiting the old colony of Mars.

Dr. Welles was in his quarters, reading one of his journals from college. A simple 200 page manuscript bound with glue and cardboard. The pages, describing the mechanisms of the human body, were one of the few physical connections Welles had to his time as a student. Pencil illustrations and descriptions of the organs, skeleton, diseases, etc. His quarters was a modest bedroom. A bed, desk and chair, TV, couch, shelves, and cabinets.

Captain Thompson sat in the bridge of the ship and looked out the wide front window. He could see the many planets under control of the trade federation. The light from furnaces as old as the universe. The bridge had the best equipment a minimal budget could afford, which wasn't all that bad.

The NAV-77 approached the Ridley Station, a docking and refueling station 90 million miles from Betelgeuse. The station was seemingly a series of platforms and buildings attached together via tubes. Workers wearing simple spacesuit ran from ship to ship, attaching assorted hoses. Fuel, water, waste, etc.

A mile from the station. A red blinking light could be seen. A beacon for travelers. The ship was quickly approaching the platform. 4000 feet.