Sensors start to kick back data, give readings on pressure levels, chemical makeups, breatheability, but the results aren't promising. It's a new world, one with no entries in the network, likely one no other human has ever seen. Not likely any other human will choose to come out here now, see it in person– the atmosphere is so dense that anyone unlucky enough to find themselves on the surface would be crushed in an instant. That's why there are no mountains, you realize. The pressure is so strong it keeps them down, grinds them steadily into sand with high winds and waterless storms packed with speeding grit. The cost to colonize it would be high, and the rewards, well. . .
You make a note in the database, dispatch a mote-probe and watch the data as it does a series of quick scans from low orbit, searches for metallic signatures, valuable minerals, lifeforms or the leavings of alien civilizations, finds none. It's a dead world, a world that never really was alive, that no one will probably ever be interested in visiting.
When the mote-probe returns, you finish your entry on Iota Melones Vangelder 4y, hand the uploading off to the integrated intelligence and spin up the phasedrive. Between-space comes quickly, envelopes you, carries you onward to other worlds, other points of interest.
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