Morning glimmered bright over Sulawesi Elevator City, the tropic haze alive with hues of burnished copper and soft rose. The colossal orbital tether cut straight through humid sky, vanishing above into dawn's glare. Earth's pulse was waking fast.
Sofia Bennett and Daniel Estevez stepped off a sleek escalator into the swelling terminal crowd, each clutching slim satchels and blinking against a rush of kaleidoscopic light. They'd barely tasted two days of leave in Honolulu's sultry calm before urgent orders yanked them back—rest already a memory, replaced by duty and movement.
Warm air pressed close—alive with the salt of the Celebes Sea wafting inland past docks, tangled with ozone from charging stations and rail lines, thickening with humanity's layered scent. High overhead, a forest of scrolling holo-displays flickered in Bahasa and Federation Standard, casting motes of colored light across the churn of bodies. Sofia scrolled through her handheld transit feed, its amber glow illuminating sharp hazel eyes; Daniel tapped his wrist-comm, syncing departure windows for the elevator ascent and orbital transfers. They murmured clipped talk of their next waypoint—corridor runs, pirates in the debris fields, whispers about the Cataclysm and its rumored star-lance, tension threaded through excitement.
Suddenly, a shrill beep chopped the noise. An autonomous cargo cart zipped past—its low hum warping to a whine as it dodged too tight through the flow, nearly clipping a uniformed figure who twisted aside—and collided shoulder-first with Sofia. She staggered, gasp torn from her lips, satchel swinging wildly; Daniel's grip on his comm faltered, the device clattering on polished stone.
Their near-collision partner—a wiry woman with a tight bun, Federation jacket unzipped at collar—caught herself fast with a muttered curse. Her duffel slid half-off a shoulder, spilling data chips and a folded jacket that skittered across shining floor indicate her as Hara.
"Whoa, sorry!" Sofia managed, regaining footing with a hand on Daniel's sleeve, breath sharp. "Are you okay?"
Hara exhaled hard, crouching to scoop up chips. "That drone nearly took my knee out." A dry, sandpaper tone. As she glanced up, her eyes caught Sofia's uniform patch, then Daniel's, recognition dawning beneath a frown. "Federation? Out-posting near the supernova corridor?"
Daniel chuckled softly, handing back her jacket. "Same hell as you. Daniel Estevez—intel. This is Sofia Bennett." Sofia smiled sheepishly, brushing hair from flushed cheeks, hands still trembling from adrenaline. The three of them paused amid a swirl of chimes and shifting feet, caught in a moment of converging paths illuminated by advertising neon and long dawn shadows.
Hara's mouth curled tight in something close to a smile as she slung her duffel again. "Security detail," she confirmed, voice level. "Got called up for corridor redeploy. So much for downtime." Her grip tightened on worn bag straps.
"Bet we cross trails more than once, then," Sofia said, her own voice easing. "Federation's always loved urgent shuffle." Daniel nodded his reserve as chimes layered overhead.
A cascade of melodic signal washed down from rows of speakers. "Attention: Elevator departures delayed fifteen minutes. Orbital tether recalibration in progress." Groans rippled through the gathered crowds, blending with luggage shudders and impatient curses.
Sofia tipped her chin, a sharp spark cutting through the fatigue. "A pause, then. Might as well swap rumors before the next snarl." She gestured at a spiraling directory hologram, glyphs shimmering blue in morning light.
All around them, bright morning sunlight drenched Sulawesi Elevator City's vast interior, spilling through immense canopy glass fractured by engineered haze into a kaleidoscope of prismatic shards. Terraced balconies spiraled upward, their steel edges draped with cascading vines—lush emerald and luminous violet genetically crafted to thrive in humid equatorial heat beneath solar lamps tuned to mirror tropical dawn. Salt-scented air swept through the open concourse balconies, gleaming with the reflected turquoise of the Celebes Sea below, where dawn's gold shimmered off the waves. Above everything, the orbital tether soared skyward, its carbon lattice spire spearing out of sight through vapor haze—a living artery stretching to space.
Sofia tipped her gaze upward at a cluster of suspended holographic signs, bright glyphs pulsing teal and amber, cycling seamless translations for transfer tubes and elevator pods. Beside each, multilingual status boards flickered newest updates in Bahasa, Mandarin, Standard—syncing with orbital ring traffic and elevator car cycles. Along the concourse's curve, a streamlined cable train glided silently by, magnetic levitation propelling it around the hub's perimeter, shuttling crews and cargo to the equatorial base tower. Triangular cargo drones whirred overhead, their alloy skins shining faint as they ferried containers between bays, hums lost in the dense mosaic of voices and machinery.
To Hara, fresh from sterile depots and frozen drill platforms, the city's pulse was visceral. Sulawesi vibrated with tropical intensity: humidity alive with flower perfume and sweat, water-patterned light projections rippling hypnotically across polished black stone. Tension churned beneath that lushness—travelers bound for the supernova corridors or uncharted lanes, faces tight, movements sharp with Federation purpose. Hara felt it hum under her skin: recall orders reeling her from leave back toward unknown hazards, the itch of anticipation dulled only faintly by tropical heat.
They passed glass lift tubes, transparent cradles sliding quietly between concourse levels, pods unloading passengers with soft pneumatic sighs. Daniel's eyes tracked the tether itself, streaking upward beyond the terminal's skylight: a hair-thin silhouette against scattering sunlight, hoisting passenger and cargo cars kilometers high, held taut by gravity and gravitic stabilizers, no brute thrust required. Below at the plaza floor, wrist-comm lights pulsed green at checkpoints as travelers scanned biometrics, queues curling in orderly spirals fed by efficient Federation design.
Near a bustling kiosk, Sofia glanced at a counter alive with color—cups of crushed fruit, tropical skewers steaming beneath amber lamps, crisp uniforms reaching impatiently for sustenance between jumps. Chrome-jointed robotic arms slid orders along magnetic tracks with balletic precision. A flickering holo projected a "Cooling Mist" special—mint-laced ocean algae swirling bright viridian in a tall condensation-beaded glass. Hara's guarded eyes flickered toward it with brief curiosity beneath her taut composure.
"Delay's holding," Sofia murmured, sweeping a damp lock from her brow, words dry but calm. "Something cold before the count hits zero." Next to her, Daniel checked his wrist-comm synced with launch cycles. "Ten minutes to form up," he confirmed, tone steady despite the prickling bustle.
Hara let out a long breath, masking the faint flutter under her chest, resigned but focused. "A quick breather, then." She made space just as two senior officers swept past, lunar crescent badges flashing silver. Their murmurs carried: talk of star-lane anomalies, new gravitic snarls pulling nav grids off true. Hara drew another slow inhalation, bracing herself against the familiar avalanche of corridor hazards yet to come.
They filed into the queue, falling into silence as station life pulsed around them. Sunlight fractured through the arched lattice overhead, scattering mosaics of warm color across black stone polished like a sea at sunset. Overhead, silent drones beamed floating advertisements: "Frontier Homesteading—Claim Your Open Sky", "Salvage Licenses Authorized Here", little corporate stars glittering above the endless flow below.
At the counter, Sofia thumbed in her order for vivid purple guava-acai juice, the cup glowing nearly neon with "antioxidant matrix." Daniel opted for the minty algae drink, tentative at first sip then shrugging, "Stronger than it looks, but cold enough." Hara kept it simple—a tall iced tea, beads condensing down the glass, the coolness soothing steam-tinged heat under her collar.
They slipped behind a low glass wave divider beside a corner table. Here, the station's roar softened, a small bubble of calm floating within the Federation's orchestrated cyclone.
Sofia lifted her vivid drink, gaze steady on Hara's scar and wary eyes. The faint crease near Hara's temple—a thin healing cut—spoke of someone who had faced danger and kept going. Sofia's tone gentled, invitation not interrogation: "How was your trip home?"
Hara swirled her iced tea, voice low and dry. "Brief. Two nights on Shanghai station—just long enough to see my folks, say yes we're alive. Then Cataclysm broadcast a recalls. Standard whiplash." The resignation was real; but beneath it, a trace of warmth ghosted across her features at the memory.
Daniel snorted, half-amused. "Honolulu barely let me unpack. Thirty-six hours, now back to corridor storms. Same drill." He rolled his algae cup between callused palms. "Reminds me of Eridani a few years back: rogue flare data chase. We stumble on some pirate skiff hiding out in a rock belt, just outside Fed space. Barely armed, but still had the gall to tail us for a day." A crooked smile. "Thought we were cargo heavy, maybe."
Hara's lips twitched—a restrained smile. "Sounds familiar. I ran a patrol near there. Heard scav chatter. Scattered fast when Indomitable warp-cycled in. Even outlaws don't test a battleship close up." She sipped slow, the faint sweetness steadying pulse and nerves.
Sofia grinned around her straw, purple juice tinting her lips. "Lucky the corridor's mostly plasma noise this time out. No skiffs on my brief at least. If dust walls pin you though, drop a hail. We've all got fiascoes—and tricks."
Hara's gaze moved between them, a flicker of quiet respect growing. "I'll bank that," she said softly. Beyond the clear divider, the terminal churned on—passengers shouldering crates stamped in orbital glyphs, execs in smooth suits weaving past runners, a trio of nav engineers lugging blueprint tubes atop their shoulders like spears. A chime rolled across the plaza; the PA's calm voice followed: "Attention. Cataclysm duty transfer, Gate C-7 now boarding."
All three exchanged a quick glance—that moment of shift before parting. Hara drained the last swallow of tea, adjusted the frayed strap of her duffel. "Looks like that's me." A flicker of something guarded crossed her features, then steadied.
Daniel crumpled his empty cup. "We're next. Dawnseeker staging's on D-2. Back to it." His grin was crooked, knuckles white for a moment on the algae glass before he set it aside.
Sofia rose and tugged her jacket straight, rolling tight shoulders once. "If we cross again near Betelgeuse, tell 'em all three of us met in an equatorial storm." Her voice was light but her eyes sparked fierce with unspoken promise.
Hara nodded, a faint smile finally pushing through. "Could be." Then, hesitation gave way to something steadier—she reached out, tentative. Sofia clasped her grip strong and sure; Daniel followed, warm palm and quick nod. A fleeting thread of trust wound round their hands amid the swirl.
Then they were moving away, each toward next orders—
Hara striding toward a gate flanked by crisp Federation banners, where ranks of uniforms lined up beneath an officer's steady gaze.
Sofia and Daniel veered for the escalators leading deeper below, towards departure veins and relays. Soft pastel status lights flashed across their shadows as they passed—transit guides refracted in flickering gold. Cargo drones hummed past, stacked high with sealed pallets, moving with silent precision into the bowels of elevator pods and shuttle racks.
At the checkpoint, Hara glanced back once and caught a final glimpse of Sofia and Daniel weaving away through the layered crowd. Oddly, a faint relief steadied her heartbeat—a reminder that down here, she wasn't the only one sent to these impossible margins.
Next stop, orbital ring, then a transfer to Cataclysm. After that, the dark again. Supernova stormfronts, threat or not, calling once more.
She clenched her duffel's strap until finger joints stung, squared her shoulders, and whispered beneath her breath, "One ship or three, I'm not alone."
A gate guard nodded her past, scanning her ID badge. Ahead, the city's outer panels unshuttered briefly, revealing a raw blue glimpse of troposphere, a promise of open sky—and beyond it, the unknown dust clouds and war zones waiting.
Hara exhaled slow. Then stepped forward, calm and ready, into whatever came next.