Captain's Log. Panthera is in sight. How long, and how far, we have travelled, is fortunately only academic to us, as we have been in hibernation for almost the whole of the journey.

I wonder what things are like back home on Aree. I'm sure the worst has been postponed until we get home with the Fuel, but I doubt anyone is comfortable. I suspect we have lost a great deal of biodiversity as other means of power (mechanical, biological and political, alas) become exhausted.

I try my very best not to let myself dwell on what I might be coming home to, should I-- no, I must keep myself focused. I must do to myself what I do to my crew, and keep myself far too busy to think. May the Ael'rahin, the Gods of Space and Time, grant us an otherwise boring trip.

Outside our ship, Panthera looms before us, a gaseous blue and white orb. Arrayed around it are its eight moons, each a different hue. A jewel box in space. A jewel box of hope for Aree.