The Marfos asteroid appeared as a dark blotch in front of Cygni-12, Hakkut’s enormous blue star. It was a giant rock of halted rotation with a circular jump terminal anchored to its night side. A super-conductive metal lined the inside of the ring. Power boxes attached to the rim at evenly spaced intervals provided the soft iridescent blue which made the local warp space anomaly glow. Multiple wires, each fifty kilometers long, extended from the outer edges of the portal to their anchors on the surface of Marfos. The S119 joined a stream of refugee vessels from Hakkut, a mix of transports, freighters and a few vessels from the defeated imperial garrison.
“I guess they want to get to Sol before one side or the other blows that bridge,” Bert said, “I’ll have to move us within the shadow of Marfos; otherwise, the heat from Cygni will overwhelm the cooling systems that you so graciously damaged.”
“Ha, ha,” Fade whispered before laying flat to take a short nap.
As Bert maneuvered the S119 toward the planet’s shadow, other vehicles approaching the terminal positioned themselves to block him. At first Bert thought it was a coincidence, but after being pushed back into the light a second and third time his suspicions were confirmed. The tight traffic within the shadow made those within reluctant to allow newcomers entry, in fear of losing their own positions.
“We’re going to die out here if someone doesn’t make space for us,” Bert radioed.
“That’s your problem, not mine,” someone radioed back.
“Pulling back to Hakkut isn’t an option,” Bert said as more hostile messages filtered through, then finally a friendly voice broke the monotony.
“I’m a green freighter about twelve kilometers away from the portal. I’m saving some space in front of me. How long will it take you to get here.”
“Thirty seconds,” Bert said.
“OK pilot. I won’t be able to see you on my blind side because my cameras aren’t working. You’ll have to be exact, or the people behind me will be quick to fill the gap.”
“Can’t I pull in front of you.”
“I’m pulling a five kilometer train of freight. If you want to risk getting fried, sure thing. You better appreciate this now. This old freighter doesn’t handle sudden speed bursts well.”
“I’m more than grateful.”
Bert pulled ahead at full speed. When he reached the back of the freighter it pulled ahead suddenly, leaving a gap for Bert to squeeze the transport into. The vehicle tried to close the gap and hit the S119’s backside. It veered out of the shady path and its spot filled before it could recover.
“Moron! He would’ve been better off just to let me enter.”
“It’s not our problem now,” Nicole said.
“There’s no way I could help even if I wanted to. It’s a real shame. Nah, not really.”
The freighter that allowed Bert to cut in behind finally entered the center of the portal, dragging its five kilometer train of storage compartments. The smaller vehicles passed through at the sides, which was no doubt allowed, for the portal was built to handle such one-way traffic, but larger transports also began forcing their way through. The extra pressure on the century old portal systems caused the blue iridescence to disappear for a mere second. The freighter got sliced from over two kilometers of its cargo. The containers separated, bombarding incoming traffic before heading for the surface of Marfos.
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A cargo container smashed into the support system of the portal, further compromising a dented section. Vehicles fought to race through before the portal’s inevitable collapse. Civility disintegrated on the shadowed side of Marfos.
The back end of a cargo container floated backward into the S119 and threw them a kilometer backwards. Bert avoided the fighting and pulled close to the portal again, only to be pushed back by another transport. A military gunship rammed the transport out of the line, then a freighter pushing at high speed smacked the gunship and sent it careening to the wrong side of the terminal hoop.
The freighter, thrown off course by the collision, crashed into the base of a support leg. The collision again forced Bert to pull back further. The gunship, still operable, rammed the terminal rim from the other side. The portal’s legs cracked. The planet’s gravity took over. Bert pushed the transport forward with all its auxiliary power. He raced against the fall of the portal itself, and the possibility of being smashed by its heavy rim. Meanwhile, Fade remained sprawled across one of the back seats, neither falling nor awakening as his equipment floated around him.
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As the portal structure crashed towards the surface of Marfos, the portal itself remained alive with a bright blue glow. The S119 sped to catch it. The top of the entry loop smashed into the back end. The collision flipped the transport through the portal.
Now disabled because of a crushed backside, the S119 transport twirled violently from the exit portal. Fade hit the wall of the vehicle in the zero-gravity environment of the cabin. Awake, he decided to take the pilot seat. He succeeded in stabilizing the S119 by placing it in orbit around the portal’s nearby space station orbiting Sol between Jupiter and Saturn.
The space station and rest stop accommodated portal traffic. A great cylinder with three thick rings lined its body. Between each ring were rows of garages large enough to accommodate regular freighters and transports. Long cargo freighters wrapped the cylinder spires at each end of the station with freight boxes attached like sausage links. The rings of the station that shone darkly contained the habitation areas, miniature towns for weary travelers.
The controls of the S119 tightened as its maneuverability minimized; the thinning air suggested a hull breach. The transaction devices on the hull were out of commission, a situation that would prevent payment of the docking fee. Fade contacted the entry tower over communications.
“Lander S119,” said a business like female voice, “ground code 47AV71. We can’t allow landing unless docking fees are assured. Please place your asset card against a window and we’ll photograph it for manual examination. Is there anyone you know here who can assure your credentials?”
Fade placed his card against the screen, “Contact Morris Delfi of Delfi’s eatery. Tell him Fade is pulling in a disabled transport and ask him to please hurry with the confirmation.”
“Fly around the perimeter until verification is complete. Do not enter the transit way. If you attempt anything desperate, we won’t hesitate to open fire. Have a nice day, and thank you for your patronage.”
The uncompromisingly thin became more difficult to breathe as the station was uncompromisingly slow. After circling the station three times, Fade lost patience. Luckily, the necessity of rushing in was averted when the station announced his clearance for a garage in sector three, above the highest ring. A gigantic holograph of a young girl in a tight, neon-yellow, one-piece bathing suit appeared, complemented by a construction hat atop her simmering red hair. The holograph also wielded a wrench, a wink, and a smile as she lifted her left heel behind her thigh. The words: [Repair Services, We Operate Shops In All Sectors Of This Station], floated above and below the holograph. Bert whistled at it.
“If all the other mechanics looked like that, I’d get myself a business partner real quick.”
The S119’s thrusters forced maximum velocity to achieve a final push into the garage. It slammed into its holding mechanism. The locking arm suspended from the ceiling broke. The personal walk to the side groaned as it pushed outward and over to slant awkwardly downwards from the vehicle. The S119’s engines died, but the remaining kinetic energy hooked it firmly against the safety rails of the catwalk, which were supposed to be a meter away from the hull. Gravity reestablished as air filled the garage. An emergency locking arms secured the ship from the side and the bottom in lieu of the overhead arm, which crashed into the chasm below.
The secondary blue garage door closed with a hiss as the transport’s landing gear extended.