The Redsea Signal - Chapter II

Posted on Tue Jul 27th, 2021 @ 9:23am by Lieutenant Commander S'hib

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Sequella - High Orbit
1251 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure

A gentle hum was all S'hib felt as he sat leaning against the inside window of the Sequus transport, eyes closed, trying his best to get what little sleep he could. It had been a long journey, one thrust upon him without much choice or warning, but orders were orders... especially ones from the top.

The humming of the hull was pleasantly relaxing, despite the cabin filled with the obnoxious shrieking of young Sequus children... he wondered what Miraj would have said had she been here, her bare feet and hands feeling the rugged and rickety craft groaning from the atmospheric pressure thumping away at its boxy nose; if they could even touch the floor he noted, remembering everything around him was now built for Sequus; No more ducking under doors he thought.

He smiled at this just before the transport hit a patch of turbulence, shaking it violently for a brief moment and jolting his head against the thick plexiglass window by his seat. "Ah..." S'hib groaned as he blinked his eyes awake, awkwardly glancing to his side to see if anyone had noticed, which thankfully it seemed nobody did.

"Attention passengers," A disembodied snort said over the intercom, the deep tonal pitches of native Sequellian dialect crackling out of overhead sound systems, perked dozens of ears up above their plush but well-worn headrests and bringing conversations to a pause as the Captain spoke. "We will be landing shortly, please return to your seats."

S'hibs eyes still remained fixed outside, despite the sudden commotion the pilot had just caused as parents scrambled to reign in the numerous colts and fillies.

Admiring the view of his home, the familiarity of its vast red surface doing little to settle the nerves in his stomach, the notion that he was as every much an outsider as anyone else in a Starfleet uniform still gnawing away at him, something he was about to be reminded of.

"Why do you have... that, on your body?" Asked a small dark-coated filly who had suddenly been seated next to him, her long spindly legs kicking back and forth as she stared at him with an awkward tilt to her head, her long braided knots flopping down to touch the seat she sat on.

"I'm sorry? what?" S'hib blinked as he turned around, finding her small cream face almost touching in his own.

"The fabric..." She huffed, as though it was obvious.

"My uniform?" He replied, lifting a hoofed digit to his chest.

"Uniform..." She replied with a wrinkle of her nose, the word having no meaning to her. "Why does it cover your whole body?"

"I'm a Starfleet officer, I'm required to wear it while on duty..." He said softly, his eyes scanning around in an attempt to find her parents in the sea of tangled and tired manes.

"Well, I don't like it... it looks weird." She snorted, her ears folding back in disagreement as she stared at him with bright hazel eyes.

"Just... put your seatbelt on." S'hib sighed as reached down for his own, trying to ignore her burning gaze boring into him.

"Did they make you shave off your coat?" She asked, watching S'hib slowly fumble with the buckle.

His mouth opened briefly as he turned to face the filly one more, a deep-set frown of confusion now sat across his face. "What?" He stammered. "No, put your belt on."

"Is that why you wear fabric like the off worlders, because you lost your coat?"

"I didn't lose my coat," S'hib said through gritted teeth as he wrestled the collar of his uniform open and exposed the top of his chest. "But you will in a minute if you don't put your seatbelt on." He grumbled, returning the fiery glare the young filly was giving him.

"Mum!" The filly shouted, her eyes narrowing but never leaving his.

"Seatbelt, now." A stern female voice snorted as she clicked past, paying no attention to her daughter's cry for attention as she sat down in the row in front, attending to another, much quieter child.

Nostrils flared wide as the small filly conceded defeat, but not without making an incident first; annoyance overflowed as she let out a wild shriek and kicked at the floor before fumbling with her belt, finally giving up and angrily crossing her arms, glaring at the seat in front of her with a scowl that made her appear more Klingon than Sequus.

"Red sands..." S'hib muttered quietly to himself as he shuffled in his seat, putting whatever distance he could between his legs and her hooves before returning his eyes to his viewport, the curvature of Sequella long replaced by the flat horizon of endless red, what clouds floated in the sky hurtled past as the transport flew down towards the coastal starport.

It was a beautiful view he thought, the holodeck for all its advancements in visual replication always seemed to lack that certain something, perhaps it was simply because he knew this time, this view was real.

"Computer..." S'hib sighed as he tapped the crude commercial interface on the back of the seat in front of him, its design clearly inspired by Starfleet technology blinking to life. "I need to send a subspace message to the USS Elysium... Low priority, but patch it through Starfleet, Authorisation code S'hib beta two zero zero six."

Screens came and went as the onboard computer struggled with the request, its limited software being forced to accommodate the intrusive Starfleet code being injected into its subsystems.

Access Granted Displayed on the glossy black screen below a fuzzy Starfleet Insignia before flickering to a more familiar LCARs, his face and upper torso reflected back on the small side screen showing it was ready to record.

"Ahem, Computer begin recording." He said before awkwardly pausing for a few seconds, the sounds of idle conversation and the odd neigh of laughter giving him pause.

"Hello Naxea, I have some explaining to do, don't I?" He half sighed a laugh, leaning back into his seat, his face briefly darkening behind a wisp of shadow cast from a cloud. "I'm heading to Sequella," S'hib mused as he cast his head towards the viewport. "Offical Starfleet diplomatic business is what you will have been told, some article was written up when Sequella joined the Federation, Article thirty-three I think... It allows my government to formally request emergency Starfleet assistance... but, since offworlders require more than just a crash course on cultural etiquette to be allowed on the surface... all assistance must come in the form of Sequus officers."

His head glanced to his left, visibly glaring at the young filly offscreen who was now standing in her seat, reaching into the overhead compartments.

"My... orders were to leave immediately," He muttered, turning his attention back to the recording. "Which is why I'm onboard this transport... beyond that, I'm not entirely sure what's going on." He paused for a moment, unease exuding off his every expression. "I hope this doesn't take long, but I'll keep you posted... I miss you already, Naxea, And yes, I'll be keeping the uniform on... I'm still on duty after all... speak soon." He smiled before reaching forward and tapping on the screen.

"Computer, filter out any background noise and then send this message to Lieutenant Colonel Naxea." He snorted before turning his head back to the annoyance sitting next to him, a small fluffy teddy the cause of her sudden quietness.