This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/mikeromeokilo on 2025-04-07 19:09:41+00:00.

Chapter 7

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***

"Long before the human race had invented fart jokes, the rest of the galaxy had figured out how to traverse the stars - using jump points.

The first had been an unstable anomaly, poked and prodded until it stopped shredding curious appendages, and eventually stabilised into a much less unstable, stable anomaly. And, like the saying goes, once you’ve tamed a dog, creating a dog from its component atoms using only advanced physics and a lot of energy is relatively easy."

“Why’re we watchin’ this again?”

“Everyone has to be in-date for the safety training. Katie and Gordon are due a refresher, so we’re all doing it.”

"Once scientists understood the theory, artificial jump points were created, and the galaxy infrastructure that we know and love today was born.

Now, because these anomalies don’t mix well with gravity, most have been created far from the massive gravity wells of stars and planets, or in some cases - the special areas in between where gravity is stable enough to allow it.

Since that time, jump drive technology has also evolved to the point where very large ships can even generate their own anomalies to travel to distant stars!"

“Has it always been a cartoon dog? I thought it was a cat last time. Or a mouse?”

"Now, there are a few important rules to remember when traversing a jump point.

1. No large masses. This means no moons or large asteroids.

2. Quantum devices should be deactivated before transit. Active quantum technologies may experience unpredictable, destructive side effects.

3. Only enter the transit corridor when instructed to do so. When instructed, do not delay.

4. Upon arrival, clear the transit corridor immediately, or as instructed by your local traffic coordinator.

5. Many species experience adverse side effects to jump point travel. Securing any delicate appendages is advised.

Just remember these five simple rules, and enjoy your journey! You may now deactivate this instructional video."

“S’posed to be every three years, right? Coulda sworn it was only last year we did it.”

Luke nodded. “Now it’s every year. Thanks everyone, I’ll get your records updated and we’ll have all the boxes ticked by the time we get to the jump point this evening.”

“I…quite like it.” Katie smiled, leaning gently into Gordon like it was movie night.

***

“God, this has to be some sort of record. Four hours is obscene.” Mel groaned.

“Complaining about it won’t make it go any faster.” Luke shot back.

Scott said nothing, his foot tapping away on the deck.

Frustrations were starting to show. New security procedures, customs checks and border enforcement were like the latest fad; and traffic was a mess. Over twenty ships sat waiting to transit with more arriving every hour, being slowly cleared by customs and patrol craft shuttling around like bees collecting pollen. Big, fat, incredibly slow bees with clipboards.

Cargo manifest checks. Then food contamination checks. Radiation sweep. Background checks, destination clearance, license validation, stowaway screening, cultural assurance checks(?!), and next, finally, transit clearance.

“Whole damn galaxy goin’ mad.” Scott muttered.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe there was another attack, or something else happened. We’ve been in the dark two weeks - we don’t know. Like I said - I don’t want to risk holding us up any longer here; let’s get through this and see if the transit station can do a data sync when we arrive.”

Mel pointed at the small yellow square lighting up on the console. “There.”

Luke tapped his comm. “Here we go everyone, wait’s over. Strap yourselves in if you need to.” He tapped again to deactivate it. “Need a sick bag, Scott?” he asked, deadpan. Melanie smirked.

Scott shook his head, carefully navigating the ship into position. “Ya make one mistake…”

The Eventide moved carefully into transit position, between two small cargo craft. Luke glanced briefly to port, drawn by the motion in the bright cockpit. Another human pilot; not incredibly rare but noteworthy enough for a smile and a small wave. He returned the gesture before strapping himself in.

Scott freed the controls and double checked his straps, staring at the blinking amber light. Once all ships were in position, it would turn green and they’d be quietly transported fifty-thousand times the distance they’d travelled in the past ten days. No matter how many times he did it, he couldn’t help but hold his breath when that little light turned green. He tapped the console, looping everyone in the cockpit into station communications.

Melanie shook herself loose, like she was getting ready to step into a boxing ring, letting her hands rest on her legs.

Luke mentally crossed his fingers.

They sat in silence, and a minute later, the light turned Green.

“All ships clear…”

Tiny flashes danced in Scott’s vision. The hairs on his arms stood on end, a reminder of the immense power the station was silently radiating.

“…cancelled! Repeat-”

Everything blinked out of existence for a brief moment. The only sound was the quiet ticking and clanging of the hull; metal returning to its original shape. Scott had the sensation of looking through someone else’s eyes, like his consciousness hiccupped and then caught up with itself, while his body stayed perfectly still. He fought the sensation of nausea and set to work checking their status on the console. Everything looked good; he just had to wait for the traffic coordinator. They’d arrived safely.

Silence permeated the cockpit as everyone gathered themselves, broken by a quiet sound. Scott tilted his head to listen. Was that…sand? Like someone pouring out a bag of sugar. He looked out.

A mid-sized cargo vessel, but something didn’t look right. It was…twisting? He wasn’t sure. He squinted.

An orange plume erupted silently from its aft port side, accelerating it slightly. It was awkwardly tilting, forwards and sideways. Another silent plume sent it twirling faster. He blinked and squinted harder, trying to make sense of it. Was that…? Legs, two arms…and there was that sound again - sand. He looked to Luke.

Luke was looking out to the port side, mouth slightly open. Scott followed his gaze. The small cargo ship with the human pilot, should be…

There. A massive, torn slab of twisted hull plating was wedged firmly into its darkened cockpit. It was pitching slightly downwards. Scott frowned, not quite understanding. He blinked, trying to get the images back to the way they were. His body was moving, but he wasn’t moving it. His ear hurt - someone was yelling into it.

“-US THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” Mel screamed at him.

He turned his head to look at her. She was wide-eyed. Furious? Terrified? She was shaking him, really hard. He looked back to the console. That was a lot of red and yellow. His hands hovered, quivering. He wasn’t supposed to move without clearance. A flash of light made him look up again.

The twisting ship was in two pieces now - one of them looked like it might graze them. Sand. Yelling. Bodies spilling out like a split bag of dolls. His hands looked strange.

“-FUCKING CHRIST-” Mel stabbed at the console. He watched her fingers move. The Eventide started pitching down.

That was it. His hands came to life, slapping Mel’s aside. She looked like she was going to punch him out of the chair, until she saw him working the controls again. She unclenched her fists but kept her eyes on him.

Find a spot, radially away, avoiding traffic…there. He pointed The Eventide’s nose where he wanted her to go. A loud scraping, crunching noise nudged it back in the opposite direction, jostling the cockpit.

“Shit,” he cursed, “wasn’t me.” he said out loud. The environmental panel started flashing yellow in the corner of his eye. He ignored it, turning the nose again. Another scraping noise nudged it back again. “Fuck it.” he pressed the button for the rear thrusters, pushing them away from whatever they were snagged on. No time for protocol. The scraping and grinding metal noise became worse, briefly, then stopped. He nudged the thruster power up, eyes flicking wildly back and forth between the local space display and the cockpit window.

Mel took her eyes off Scott to check on Luke. He was sitting motionless, staring out to port, his face completely white. She tapped her comm.

“Gordon, Katie, check in.”

“What the hell is going on?!” She winced at Gordon’s yell, but ignored him for now.

She waited. “Katie?”

Silence.

“Gordon, there’s been some kind of accident. Check on Katie and then-” she glanced at the environmental panel.

Warning: Crew Cabin #4.

“-SHIT! Go get Katie, get your breather FIRST - and a patch kit!”

She glanced at Scott, and then the console. They were moving safely away.

“You good?” she asked him, suspiciously.

He nodded quietly, wiping his face with his hand, his eyes still flicking wildly between the consoles.

She unstrapped herself, grabbing Luke by the shoulder. “Hey. Hey!”

Luke looked like he was starting to pull himself together. “Uh. Yes. Okay.”

He’d be better off staying here. “Keep an eye on him.” she said, pointing at Scott. She didn’t wait, turning to jog quickly down …

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