The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm... a huge, ancient radio telescope just kinda looms above, pointing straight up at a... totally still, pale grey sky, no wind, like, not even a hint of a breeze. I'm... really struggling, Echo, c'mon, keep going... Air's dry, thin, smells like hot electronics and burnt plastic... A, like, miniature crystal representation of the Cygnus X-1 galaxy is stuck in the telescope's focal point, but it's somehow pulling a tiny, hovering... McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom II into the galaxy's central black hole, without making a single sound.