First Came the Rains

Daedalus is called to the Rinnoa System, where a desert planet is suddenly covered in rain clouds.

Through the Mizzle (pt. 1)

USS Daedalus, near the Tzenkethi border
10.2401

Bullwura rapped her manicured nails against the arm of her chair, the sequential clicking of her peach-coloured French tips against the dark surface of the central console eliciting a barely audible percussive rasp. She barely suppressed a sigh as she called across the bridge without turning her head from the frustrating sight on the view screen, the planet below, frustratingly absent of the small Nova class they were scheduled to meet. “Any luck finding Nye?” The dull thudding of fingers against the console surface was the only response from the far corner of the bridge where the young operations officer was working desperately to find the missing ship. “Eddie?” The Betazoid’s drumming against the armrest continued to grow, her nails threatening to pierce the dark rolled oak surface with her growing frustration. “Edwina?”

“Give her a minute.” Indira whispered under her breath from across the nearby XO seat learning across the small divider.

“She’s had-” Bullwura glanced to the small info panel secreted in the space between the seats, “- a full 5 minutes.”

“It’s not her fault that Driverson and co aren’t at the rendevous.” Indira brushed one of her many rogue dark forelocks back behind her ear. “And it’s definitely not her fault that Driverson has gone off wandering, you know what he’s like.” She offered the captain a knowing look.

“He does want to look under every oddly shaped rock.” Bullwura conceded, letting out another short sigh. “But his message was concerning.” ‘There are storms on Rinnoa’ were the only words on his short missive to Deep Space 47. Command had scratched their collective chins at the short message. A warning? A code? It was unusual, to say the least, and when long-range communications had been unable to reach Nye, Bullwura was ordered to take Daedalus and chase down the message. “It shouldn’t be hard to find a little Nova-class, it’s not like they’re particularly stealthy.” 

“He’ll be somewhere in the asteroid belt or in the shadow of that J-class we passed the outer edge of the system.” Indira offered her best confident smile, though it faltered slightly at the corners. 

“There are other possibilities.” Bullwura could still see the concern on Captain Varen’s face as he’d pulled her to one side at the entrance to the docking umbilical, she could hear the weighty worry in his voice as he had quietly reminded her of the risky nature of the Thomar Expanse. “We are not that far from Tzenkethi territory.” She scanned the bridge for nearby eavesdroppers, it wouldn’t do to feed the rumour mill should Eddie’s scans come up short. “And they have been even colder than usual since the Underspace incident.” she continued in a barely audible whisper. 

“We’re well inside Thomar, there’s no reason why they should have crossed.” Indira waved her hand dismissively between the two women as she leaned closer. 

“And when has that ever stopped them? They don’t say anything, Indira, they just do what they like. We’re not even worth taking the time to threaten.” Bullwura found herself wringing her hands in her lap, a frustrating habit she thought she had stopped several years ago. “I still don’t know why command sent Nye out here on their own.”

“Because we’re well inside neutral territory and this planet is rich with silicon deposits.” Indira gently lay her hand over Bullwura’s, putting a stop to their incessant wringing. “The Tzenkethi have never shown any interest in this system before. We’re almost a day’s travel from the border. And you know 47 always has an eye on them.” 

The baritone trill of the comm system sounded cut across the bridge, accompanied by a low mutter that sounded suspiciously like ‘thank god’ as Eddie cleared her throat. “I have the Nye, Captain.” Indira offered Bullwura a tilted head and an ‘I told you so’ smile. 

“Where even… whatever, on screen.” the captain instructed, rising to her feet as she prepared to admonish her fellow captain for his tardiness. 

The view screen flickered for a moment before the orbital view was replaced by a dark image, a fine fuzz covering the wide viewscreen, beyond the grey interference, Bullwura could make out distant rolling dunes and a night sky, filled with barely visible pinpricks of light. 

“Can we do anything about the interference?” Indira was already crossing to the operations console, her long legs carrying her across the small bridge quickly. “Is it the same problem we had with the long-range comms?”

“It doesn’t look that way, the channel is clear.” Eddie pointed to the screen as the XO approached, “What we’re seeing is what they’re transmitting.”

From his position at the science station opposite, Maksha announced his interruption with a gentle clearing of his throat. “I believe I have triangulated Nye’s location and it may explain what we are seeing.” He calmly turned to the rest of the room. “It is not interference. It is rain.”

As if waiting for its cue the feed on the viewscreen stuttered and tumbled as a pair of human hands grasped with the video transmitter and moved it to a better position. A few nausea-inducing seconds later the face of Captain Driverson appeared on the screen, his body covered by a bright yellow kagoule and a wide-brimmed hat atop his mess of dark hair, drips of water gathering at its hem, barely clinging on. 

Daedalus? Bullwura is that you?” The man’s pleasant baritone was bubbling with barely contained excitement. 

“Alan?”

Driverson allowed a wide grin to spread across his face. “Yes! Apologies we weren’t in orbit when you arrived, we needed the surface vehicles and well… it’s just easier to drive them straight off the ramp.” A sudden blinding flash of white light arced across the screen, fracturing into a thousand spiderwebs across the dark sky before fading from existence. Driverson returned his attention to the screen, his smile wider than before. “Plus there’s those! We’ve taken shelter under the ship, two birds in one bush as they say. I will say T’Lask did an excellent job bringing her in through the storm.”

Bullwura lifted her jaw from the deck as she slowly began to read between the lines, she looked to Maksha on the far side, sharing a silent nod of understanding with her fellow Betazoid. “Alan, are you on the surface of the planet?”

He looked like he might explode with glee as he tilted the camera slightly upward to reveal the curving arrow-shaped primary hull of Nye. “Affirmative Captain!”

“Why?” Bullwura could feel a headache beginning at the edges of her temples as she looked over the visage of Driverson in the corner of the viewscreen, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Well this planet shouldn’t have an atmosphere, let alone full-blown thunderstorms.” The chubby pink fingers covered the video feed again as it was lifted into a new position. “It also shouldn’t have that.”

Several jaws dropped on the bridge of Daedalus as the pink, sausage-like fingers peeled away revealing a tall silver structure on the horizon, its smooth uninterrupted surface reaching up from the ground like one of the water droplets that hung from Driverson’s hat. A needle peak pierced the sky where it spewed out plumes of thick white vapour, churning upward to fuel the spreading stormcloud. 

The disembodied voice of Captain Driverson was even more gleeful when separated from his face, though no less frustrating. “I thought you might like that!”

Shifting Winds (pt. 2)

Waverider Shuttle Icarus, in orbit over Rinnoa II
11.2401

The clunk of releasing docking clamps gave way to the omnipresent hiss of air handlers undertaking their tireless work as Icarus banked gradually away from its cradle under Daedalus’ primary hull, the familiar hum of the impulse engines beginning to vibrate through the deck. Throughout the tiered cockpit, Theta Squad quietly buzzed away with preparatory work, the gentle tip-tapping of fingers against the consoles in counterpoint to the quiet chimes of notifications.

“When is the drinks trolley coming through?” Oshira spun in her chair towards the room, the console behind her unusable as the screen whirred in an attempt to divine the weather forecast for their destination on the planet below. 

“What?” Anyok chattered from the forward portal where she sat alongside the figure of Lieutenant Syal, whose grin was growing now that they were set free from the mothership, a pilot’s dream. 

“Oooo, mine’s a Kanar, but with just a dash of Bolian Lime juice,” Sehgali replied enthusiastically. Seemingly aware of the contorted look already spreading over Oshira’s face she held her hands up defensively. “Honestly, makes it so much better.

“What is a… drinks trolley?” Anyok repeated, her hook-like beak struggling to form the unfamiliar combination of sounds. 

“It’s a trolley…” Oshira began, taking to her feet to mime a hostess pushing a trolley. “… For drinks.” She shook an imaginary glass in an attempt to clarify her performance.  

“I believe that much was obvious.” Oscuri interrupted from the engineering console, where she was putting the finishing touches to a long braid that bound her usually epic crown of white hair. She cast the older woman a cool side eye as she wrapped the band around the tip of the braid, her dislike for the woman leaping across the small room like a bolt from a crossbow. Across the cockpit, Oshira received her dart with a barely concealed eye roll and something muttered beneath her breath; undoubtedly one of her many colourful curses picked up over the decades. 

From the rear station on the small craft, Sehgali sighed behind her teeth, the two women had been snapping at each other for weeks. She had hoped it would calm as they became more familiar whilst undertaking Anyok’s intensive team training following Theta Squad’s transfer from Helios. It seemed to be having the opposite effect, they were even more at loggerheads now they knew more about each other. Sehgali sighed again as she caught Oshira shooting daggers across the metre-wide gulf between the women. It might as well be the Mariana Trench in terms of their friendship. She didn’t need them to be sisters but this was straining the team dynamic, Ole and Tulil had already logged complaints that Oscuri wasn’t blending with an already established team. 

Sensing the tension Rhoska piped up from the corner console to offer his own drink order. “I’ve always liked a warm Kali-fal. Good for warming the cockles, it has to be the proper stuff though, I’ve not met a replicator that can do it justice yet.” The older man rubbed his belly in pretend satisfaction. “Bylil says he can get his hands on a bottle but I’ll believe that when I see it.” Daedalus’ resident Ferengi cook was responsible for the ship’s mess and its small attached galley but had quickly become bartender, chef gourmand and resident treasure hunter for the ship’s company. 

“That stuff smells awful.” Sehgali nodded appreciatively toward the older man by way of thanks for his attempt to redirect the conversation to its tracks. 

“The smell is part of the experience!” he replied smiling at the thought of many nights on the frontier, warmed by drinks too numerous to recount. 

“I still don’t understand what a drinks trolley is-” Anyok announced from the forward portal. 

“- I told you a trolley for drinks!” Oshira replied, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

As the cockpit began to descend into a cacophony of overlapping voices a trill from the XO’s console interrupted the jovial proceedings. A single raised finger from Sehgali was sufficient to silence them all as she quickly took in the latest sensor data. 

“I’m seeing a storm shifting, that big weather system we’re tracking has moved,” she announced, her brows furrowing as she reviewed the data again. A few button presses requested a second opinion from the shuttle’s diminutive computer core as well as her colleagues. 

“It’s now in our descent path, I’m adjusting our course to go around it,”  Syal announced, both for his crew member’s sake and the benefit of the small recording device nestled above his head should the worst happen. A tense silence, thick as molasses filled the cockpit as everyone returned to their consoles, each scrutinising the data through the lens of their wide repertoire of skills.

“The storm bank appears to be moving rapidly.” Rhoska rubbed his brow, adjusting his trademark cap. 

“Storms move, that’s not unusual.” Oscuri offered, her tone chilly as ever. 

“They don’t usually make course corrections directly towards the vulnerable starship parked on the surface.” 

“You think it’s heading towards Nye?” Sehgali flinched at the thought of the small Nova-class starship, anchored on the open desert plain several hundred kilometres beneath them. She flinched again at the thought of Captain Driverson and his team who were exposed, exploring the surface outside the long reach of the ship’s shields.  

“It’s difficult to tell but the storm’s centre is moving swiftly in that direction. It must be covering several hundred feet per second.” Rhoska entered a short command causing the half dozen consoles across the cockpit to fill with the topographic map of the planet, a large ominous orange swirling mass overwhelmed the screen whilst a pulsing blue light in the corner looked painfully meek by comparison. “That big orange mark is a pretty aggressive storm system. The little blue one? Nye.”

“What can they be expecting?” 

“Gale force winds, it looks like a fair amount of electromagnetic buildup too, probably a significant amount of lightning.”

“The ship’s landing struts will take gale force pressures of at least 100 knots, they are at no risk of failing. The ground teams would not be so lucky. ” Oscuri informed the room, a crack of concern showing in her otherwise stoic facade. “The lightning could also inflict direct hull damage, even through their shields.”

“Oshira, send word ahead, let Nye know to pull back all the ground teams, they should have already seen the storm moving in but I don’t want them caught out. Rhoska, start modelling what we can expect. Oscuri, let’s get some protective measures in play.” A trio of confirmations rippled across the tense cockpit, the thick air of worry only continuing to grow. Moments later Anyok was at the commander’s shoulder, her gigantic blue feathered form hovering over the woman. 

“Commander, a moment?” Anyok cast a glance around the cockpit, before motioning toward the small doorway to the attached lounge, her big blue eyes narrowing slightly. 

With a nod of confirmation, Sehgali rose and led the Aurelian a few metres into the lounge, crossing to the round table at its centre as the doors slid hissed shut, granting them privacy in the shadowy, low-lit room. 

“Something you’re concerned about Anyok?” Sehgali asked, toying with the back of the nearby grey chair, unsure whether this conversation would be one to have seated; Anyok appeared flustered, an unusual state of being for the Aurelian officer. She opted for standing, relocating her hands across her chest instead. 

“Only that I have seen plenty of storms and flown through several, they tend to follow relatively predictable models.” She creased her brows, causing her crest of ice-white feathers to stand on end, accentuating her large concerned eyes. “This is unusual, to say the least. Storms do not make such direct course corrections.”

“Agreed. It could be that the presence of the ship has caused a change in the weather patterns, she might be comparatively small but there are still several hundred tonnes of extra metal that wasn’t there a few days ago.” Sehgali stroked her chin, her various rings and bangles clinking gently. “It could be acting as a lightning rod of sorts.” 

“I am worried there might be something more insidious afoot. Aurelian hunters traditionally used storm systems to cover their approach to prey groups. Not only did it serve to cause confusion and panic but they also lent the hunters a certain…” She shifted her weight nervously as her feathers rippled in frustration, unable to find the right word. It was unusual to see the woman so nervous, she was normally the coolest officer in all Theta Squad, possibly on the entire ship. The thought of her panicked by something set Sahgali’s neck-hair on end.

“It lent them a certain mythic grandeur.” She finished, her nervous beak grinding audible across the small room.

“You believe this is intentional, that someone is controlling the storm?”

“At the very least taking advantage of it.”

The pair stood in silence, considering the possibility of a second party beyond Mother Nature. The owner of the terraforming station Nye had discovered was still an unknown and whilst terraforming technology was nothing new, it did suggest a certain technological capability, particularly to plant it on a distant planet. 

“Do we know of anyone with actual weather control tech like this?” Sehgali asked.

“Not especially, but I need not remind you that we are woefully ill-informed on the technological capabilities of the Breen Confederacy and the Tzenkethi Coalition, both of whom are within a few day’s travel of this location.” Anyok paused, her feathers still twitching. 

“You seem reluctant to say something Anyok.” The large Aurelian seemed to cower, folding in on herself with nervousness. Sehgali’s hairs were standing to attention now, almost leaping from her skin. 

“It’s just that I don’t like thunderstorms.” She flexed he shoulders indicating her absent wings.” My accident, it-”

-Commander, we’ve received a message from Nye. The storm has touched down.” 

“I understand Anyok. I promise we’ll come back to this.” Sehgali reached a hand to the tall woman’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before tapping her combadge. “Syal open up the throttle. Ole, Khal, and Oshira start preparing emergency response measures. I’ll call Daedalus.” Giving the woman another squeeze she motioned towards the small portal back to the cockpit, forward into the storm. 

Blow, Blow, thou winter wind (pt.3)

Rinnoa II
11.2401

The walkway from the waverider Icarus had barely broken the seal at the rear hatch before the disembodied voice screeched through the howling, clawing wind.

“Medic! I need a medic over here!”

“Ole, take Khal. Start a triage.” the Commander announced to the group, directing the large Bolian security officer who was already stepping with one gigantic foot on the ramp. His huge bulk stealing a few precious seconds as it hurried the hatch’s hydraulic mechanism whilst the Romulan officer slung a spare med kit across his shoulders and pulled his high-collared field jacket closer.

“We will have to use the rear compartment of Icarus, we cannot set up a field camp in these conditions,” Khal muttered in his usual gravelly tone. A blinding crack of lightning flashed across the sky emphasising his statement. “It is not safe to keep casualties out here.”

“Why can’t Nye beam them up to sickbay?” Ole called over his shoulder, battling the rising winds at the small portal from the calm interior. The ramp began to squeal as he placed even greater pressure upon it with the massive weight of his muscles, desperately urging it to descend faster.

“It looked like the lights were out as we approached, probably a lightning strike. No shields, no comms, not even a nightlight in the nursery.” Rhoska shouted back across the room as he offered a large backpack filled with supplies over Khal’s burly Romulan shoulders. “Transporters are notoriously sensitive to electrical interference. Driverson said that Nye had dropped the loading ramp, if you can get across to it you’ll be able to walk right into the deck 8 cargo bay, the main cargo bays are only a short stroll from there.”

Ole huffed at the suggestion that any of this mission would be a stroll.

“Are the children in danger?” Khal asked over his shoulder to the old man, his usual stoic tone suddenly tinged with concern and barely audible worry over the flooding wind.

Rhoska smiled at the burly man’s heart as he lifted and tugged the shoulder straps tight. The rumours were true, beneath the permanent scowl the man did have a soft spot. “Don’t worry big guy, everyone here is an adult.”

“At least in body.” Oshira interrupted from the top of the small steps to the shuttle’s central space. “Commander, Daedalus is in geo-synchronous orbit, we’re getting sensor feed.”

“And?”

“The storm is super focused, and extends about 500m from each side of the ship before it just stops.” A crack of lightning outside the portal punctuated her statement, the bulkheads echoing with a deep rumbling groan as the immobile form of Nye above them protested the unseen strike of electrical fury.

“Those are increasing in frequency too.” Oshira skipped down the small ladder steps with a surprising nimbleness, offering a padd to the commander. “Nye is already showing signs of hull damage to the dorsal sections.”

“Any luck on the source?” Sehgali muttered, flicking the long plait that tamed her unruly hair back over her shoulder while perusing the padd. On the small screen, blue and green swirls rolled endlessly, invisible storm currents bashing against one another as the sensors translated the storm’s internal battleground. “Or better yet a way to stop it?”

Oshira shook her head slightly. “It’s definitely not natural.” She mused.

“Comms?” Sehgali passed the padd back before tugging her own rucksack straps tight and flexing her shoulders to ensure she still had good movement.

“Oscuri is working on capturing the crew’s comm badges but there is a lot of static interference.” Another lightning strike cut across the outside. “Given Icarus is the hub for our own, we should be able to keep a stable connection.”

“Are they getting closer?” Ole shouted, edging his head out the now fully extended ramp and turning his eyes up towards the sky. The underside of Nye‘s hull that acted as their temporary shelter was barely visible through the blowing dust, beyond it the thick red clouds swirled, clumps of clay soil flailing desperately in the cruel and unrelenting winds.

“For now the strikes seem random, but they are increasing in frequency.” Oshira began passing out small grey rectangles from her jacket pockets, their tops flashing slowly with a dull green light. “These should give you a warning if there is an unexpected build-up of electrical energy in your specific location.” She held one to a nearby power relay, causing it to emit a sudden and urgent chiming as the green light turned a dangerous and worrying crimson.

“How much warning?” Khal asked, his brow furrowing to new depths in concern.

“A few seconds at most, if it goes red it’s time to hunker down.” Oshira offered her best calming smile as she clipped one to the gargantuan Romulan’s bag strap. “But don’t lay down, squat. On your tip toes. Shelter is best, just not anything metal.” The hull of Nye groaned once more at a lightning strike, sending shivers through the spine of the shuttle and its passengers.

Medic. I need a medic!” a voice cried again through a momentary gap in the gale winds. Different from the first, more desperate.

“Ole, Khal go.” Sehgali grabbed the men’s elbows as Khal crossed the small bay to join his gigantic brother-in-arms at the portal door. The short woman stared up into the pair’s eyes, suddenly feeling minute and powerless against the raging storm beyond the confines of the shuttle’s safety. “No heroics, stay in contact. If in doubt pull back.”

“Don’t worry Commander. You know us.” Ole smiled, placing a massive comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “We hate heroics, right Khal?” He punched the other man’s shoulder playfully before taking a step out of the portal and disappearing into the frenzied red-tinged wind.

“I do not even know the meaning of the word.” Khal offered a raised eyebrow, accentuating the natural furrows of his forehead.”Romulans are not known for heroics.” he quipped, before taking two great steps and disappearing from view into the maelstrom as well.

Sehgali looked around the cargo bay, partially open field boxes littering the workbenches and floor, it looked like a herd of elephants had passed through. Oshira was already tidying the space away and arranging the boxes into place, her practised hands creating an emergency triage from their long grey shapes.

“Well Rhoska, I guess it’s up to us to find Driverson then.” She placed her own electrical detector on the large straps over the chest, tapping it unnecessarily to confirm it was still operating. “Are you any good at dodging lightning?”

“I’ll tell you about the colony we set up on Trinnip II one day Commander. Those storms did more than rustle your hair.” He pulled at his favourite cap, tightening the small strap on its worn blue fabric in a hopeful attempt at keeping it on his head. “Ready whenever you are.”

The pair crossed to the ramp, the talons of the wind already whipping at their sides, threatening to snatch them from the safety of the shuttle.

“Remember Commander…” Oshira shouted from across the bay, “No heroics!”

With a small smile, Sehgali stepped onto the ramp. The gale beyond howling, vicious and wolf-like at the promise of another victim. She stood, taking a deep breath before the jump into danger.

“Who would ever give that stupid instruction?” With a laugh, she plunged into the winds and into the maw of the storm.