There it unfurls its great jewelled wings and basks in the strong wind of the star's light, while the many eyes stare unblinking at the nearby void, looking for movement, occultations, any change. The Ship wakes from its watchful slumber, furls its wings, and moves to investigate. A dozen eyes searching for reflected light, while the others maintain their vigil, the Ship closes on its prey. After three months, the quarry is in reach. It is a giant, blanketed by thick methane clouds stirred into Chaos patterns by the storms ripping through the murk below.
Little power is required on the journey.
Enough remains for braking at the next stop, plus the little that life support and comp will use, plus a huge margin for error. The one crucial requirement is to play safe, not to make any mistake, not to fail, in the face of unpredictable component breakdowns and the unknown void. A fifth of the usable space in the ship is dedicated to flight stores. Even a large rock strike might not destroy all seven. Stars come and go.