The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A lone, twisted juniper tree stands atop a jagged, salt-encrusted rock outcropping in the center of an endless, turquoise salt flat, its branches stretching toward the sky like a supplicant's hands. Umm... the air is thick with an acrid, ozonic tang and the pressure's oppressive, feeling like it's compressing my eardrums. Still, an absolute stillness hangs over the landscape, despite a faint, constant tremor thrumming through the ground beneath my feet, while the cloudless, pale blue sky above appears to be somehow holding the exact same stars and constellations as the font's reflected sky, not the ones visible from this planet's known position.