Bottlenecked

Posted on Tue Jun 21st, 2022 @ 5:10pm by Lieutenant Commander T'an
Edited on on Tue Jun 21st, 2022 @ 6:09pm

Mission: Prelude: The Gathering
Location: Hekaras Corridor; 2,000 AU from entry
Timeline: Mission Day 19 at 0230

[Hekaras Corridor; approaching Hekaras Monitor Station Kozu't-1]
[ECS Down Easter en-route to Deep Space Station Sigma-1; Kyiv Colony]
[July 9, 2285, 0230 Hours]
[57 days since the destruction of Planet Genesis]

"Still no signal?" First Mate Reem Asker's angular face was crisscrossed in glowing reflections of map grids, giving his olive skin tone a jaundiced cast. His broad aquiline nose flared its nostrils at the pungent aura near his helmswoman. Fariba's chemistry amplified the rich Sikh masalas Chef kicked up in the galley, along with an over-liberal solution of gardenias and frankincense to hide the fact that the Down Easter's sonic showers were still down.

The Iranian turned her head. She had eyes between colors that were of a lion and of the sea. "No. No response from the Signal Post and they are overdue by almost thirty minutes," she confirmed in her rich Persian accent: thick-tongued, her sounds almost carrying a sense of bored ennui. Fariba's thick and sinuous fingers worked the raised keys and knobs of her screen. "I would wake the Captain," she advised again with an urgency that seemed odd with her sighing way of speaking.

The Egyptian dappled arthritic and long fingers over his bald head and sighed. He switched his thick, steely gray mustache lip and tsked. "Are tetryon radiation emissions from the pulsars high enough to cause a communications blackout?"

Fariba leaned her breasts to the right against her console and checked. "No. They are eighty-eight percent of mean emissions, actually."

Reem shook his head. He looked back at a young man who had been eavesdropping with wide gray eyes. "Go wake up Captain Boone," he instructed with a swaying gesture of a finger toward the turbolift. As if connected by a string, the youth was up, out of his chair, and jogging toward the lift with the gesture.

"Open hailing frequencies to Station Kozu't-1," Reem said. He straightened, relieving his nostrils of the pungent miasma of dinner and perfume from his Helmsman. But what he found was simply the dank warmth of the freighter and twenty-nine bodies of people needing a sonic shower as of two days ago. He put his hands behind his back- momentarily- then tugged his jacket and shirt to straighten them. ANd put his hands behind his back again.

"Open," Fariba stated.

"Hekaras Station this is the Earth Cargo Service Freighter Down Easter. We are standing by for your signal to proceed into the Corridor. Please acknowledge."

A voice-only transmission emanated from the speakers. Instead of the usually bored attendant, there was a pause, a pregnant tension. "Down Easter. This is Station Kozu't-1." A long pause that had Reem's eyes skip down to the flashing data Fariba was scanning with her dowdy eyes. "What are your cargo and destination?"

Reem narrowed an eye. He felt his neck hair shiver. He reached over and tapped the mute key. His voice was a soft rasp near Fariba's ear. "Is there any sign of damage on their hull? Any strange impulse trails?"

Fariba's fat fingers stabbed into swift motion, almost fluid. She shook her hijab-covered head, almost dislodging its slinky, silky shape to reveal graying hair roots, pulled back into a bun. "No damage.... no expended weapons arrays... nothing strange on emissions."

Reem lifted his finger off of the mute key. He straightened. "Kozu't-1 we are hauling synthium cobalt fertilizer compounds and quadrotriticale for the new colony on Iota-Draghma. Deep Space Station Sigma-1." He explained. His weary gray eyes blinked, searching and narrowed. What the hell was going on?

"Standby," the disembodied yet tense voice stated. Then the channel cut.

"Did we lose connection?" Reem asked. Before Fariba could answer her Helm console squelched a series of proximity alerts.

Fariba checked, keying at chunky rounds of buttons. Her screen panned to two glistening metallic shapes inbound. A moment passed before the computer put a symbol- a series of interconnected circles representing planets- over each. "There are two Hekaran patrol vessels. They dropped out of warp bearing... 87,000 klicks and 56,000 klicks."

With a pneumatic groan, the turbolift opened. The youth which Reem had sent for the Captain followed a bedraggled-looking woman who was tying her reddish-brown hair back. "What is going on?" He grunted. While Reem pointed, the Captain's gaze had fallen on the image of two ships on her main screen. Unmistakably they were Hekaran patrol ships: each resembled parallel sets of wings or rudders. Between the rudders were juts of sensor array antennae and communications suite. Near the central axis was a jutting trapezoid main hull alight with windows. And above it, pulsing up and down the rudders above and below the ship's body were flashing green lights.

The Captain blinked her eyes and wiped sleep crust from the corner of one. "What the hell?"

"I do not think they intend to let us enter, Captain," Reem stated.

The Captain's mouth twisted in the annoyance of a brittle personality who stuck to timetables. "Ridiculous. Hail the lead ship."

"Channel open," Fariba said with a look back over her shoulder. She adjusted her hijab to cover the roots of her hair.

"Hekaran ships you are impeding lawful commerce through the Hekaran Space Corridor in violation of the treaty. We are scheduled to arrive at New Kyiv Colony in three weeks. We have vital supplies for the colonization effort there. Respond immediately."

The screen snapped with a jaundiced light broken by an occasional flash of green. A Hekaran woman stared blankly at the Captain. "Down Easter, the Treaty of the Hekaran Space Corridor has been suspended pending negotiations with your Federation Council. Cut your engines and change course. Until we receive the signal from our administrators, no Federation ships may use the corridor."

The Captain's jaw lowered, her eyes blinking while she stared balefully at this Hekaran official. "Are you fucking kidding me?" She gagged out, disbelieving.

The Hekaran cooly glanced at data when a small proximity alarm went off near her. "Cut your engines or we will be forced to interdict and impound your vessel until this situation is resolved. I suggest you contact your main office and request details." The Hekaran reached for a button and the channel cut.

Fariba's console squealed again. "They're energizing their tractor beams."

The Captain growled, flexing her fists and unflexing them. "Cut engines. Thrusters to station keeping. Get me the Earth Cargo Service office on Lambda-2. If those ships even twitch, go to general quarters and raise the defense fields."

"Yes ma'am," the youth behind her stated.