Beyond the two-hundred-and-fiftieth outer-rim galaxy lay the most remote, forgotten region of the mortal cosmos: the 50 Frontier Edge-Galaxies (Galaxies #951 through #1000).
Unlike the densely packed core and mid-rim star clusters, these fifty frontier galaxies had drifted tens of millions of light-years apart. The freezing dark void over ten million years of neglect by the Heavenly Script Pavilion.
Out here on the very edge of existence, the spatial gulf between galaxies was so vast and barren that ordinary merchant starships took three full years just to make a single supply run. Children on remote mining worlds like Edge-Star #1000 grew up under dim, dying red-dwarf suns without ever tasting fresh fruit.
Elderly villagers who developed cataracts or winter coughs had no doctors within ten light-years; and whenever cosmic frost-storms hit, whole towns had to ration thin gruel and burn dry moss to survive the night.
Standing on the forward observation bridge of [Peace & Full-Belly Mothership #1] at the end of Highway #300, one-eyed Household Butler Grandpa Fu, Peace Pharmacy Boss Auntie Qin. Pill-Saint Grandpa Yao looked out across the pitch-black abyss separating the main highway ring from the 50 Drifting Frontier Galaxies.
“Steward Fu, Physician Qin,” the fleet’s chief navigator reported, pointing at the fifty isolated specks of starlight flickering faintly on the edge of the long-range radar.
