Ishmael paused on the boundary of everything there had ever been.
His ship smoothly slowed to a standstill. Through the viewport shone stars of all different colours, shapes, and sizes. Goosebumps ran up Ishmael’s arm as he realised that he could be the first being to ever lay eyes upon some of them.
As he ensured that the ship’s computer was set up to log everything from this point on, Ishmael found himself having to stab twice at some buttons as his fingers shook. He clenched them into fists and took a deep, steadying breath, relaxing them slowly.
Then, with one tiny push of the steering yoke, Ishmael nudged the ship just a few feet forward.
“Computer,” he said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. “Confirm location.”
“Processing,” came the pleasant female voice. That was new. She was always quick as an Aresian rabbit when it came to pinpointing the ship’s whereabouts.
The word sent a thrill of terror and excitement through Ishmael’s veins.
“We are nowhere.”
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