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.