Flynn
forced himself to breathe as he watched. This was a quintuple star system, a
gorgeous one at that. A blue giant had roped in a red dwarf, two yellow main
sequence, an orange main sequence, and a white sub giant. What amazed Flynn was
the orbital period. The stars moved quickly, completing a complex ballet of
orbits in just a few hours. The stars wove about each other in the same pattern
over and over, pulling streams of solar matter from one another, creating a colored web of plasma. The colors mingled,
creating vibrant shades of burning solar winds. Caught up in the gravity of the
other stars, they curved in distorted arcs, the direct route from one star to
the next disrupted by the next closest star.
“Too bad
there are no planets here.” Ann said from the helm. “This would make a great
place to live. Better than Ember Ridge.” Ann’s tone was reverent, something
Flynn had never experienced from her.
A murmur of
approval went through the bridge.
“Maybe
they’ll bring in an asteroid and set up a resort.” Hank said.
Always
the engineer.
“Until then,” Flynn kept his voice
soft, “make sure we’re recording everying. Let’s plot a leisurely orbit around,
making sure we cover the major angles. I’m sure the Alliance Astronomy Corps
will want this. Maybe we can sell this to the holo companies, too.”
“We’re
going to come back here, aren’t we? Some time?” Ann’s voice barely made a whisper.
“How could
we not?” Flynn said.
Reese
cleared his throat, “ ‘And lo, when the children of Earth stretched forth into
the stars they did know the face of them, and their true nature. That the stars
shape the cosmos, and are true gods to men.’”
“Amen,”
they all said.