Kisshu felt the air crackle around him and cursed audibly, which was an impressive feat considering the tumult of the storm around him. The roaring wind ripped the vulgarity from his mouth and stole the breath from his lungs in the same instant. He paused for a moment, brushing his sopping bangs from his eyes and tightening the waterproof cloak around his face even as the force of the storm clawed it away from him. The wind was driving most of the precipitation directly into his face and under the collar of the cloak and soaking him through, however, and he gave up after a moment, letting the garment blow open to tug at the clasp around his neck.
Cursing again, Kisshu readjusted his grip on the metal rungs of the ladder, clinging to the side of the ship in nearly-restrained terror as a bolt of lightning crashed across the sky. He could just barely see the damaged panel from where he was if he squinted. Wrestling a deep breath away from the wind with some difficulty he pushed on, hauling himself up another few rungs, just far enough to reach the dented metal with the tips of his fingers. He struggled to yank out the small repair kit he had knotted into the sash around his waist for a few moments, nearly dropping it twice and accidentally smacking himself in the face with it when he finally managed to tug it free.
Holding onto his smarting nose with one hand, Kisshu withdrew the sealing laser and folded sheet of protective foil from the packaging, clasping the laser gingerly between his teeth and tossing the empty kit over his shoulder. Removing his hand from his nose he reached up to grasp the offending panel, yanking it free and hurling it away from the ship with far less ceremony than was probably wise. Kisshu moaned at the prospect of trying to mould the foil to the side of the ship, though the noise was muffled by the laser in his teeth and the howling wind.
Another bolt of lightning lit the sky and sent stars blooming across his field of vision. He cursed again and scrunched his eyes shut a moment too late, lamenting the short-sightedness of whoever had engineered the damned ship they'd sent him in. He was no genius, but surely creating generators strong enough to maintain force fields when exposed to solar flares – they'd known the Blue Planet's sun was stronger than their own – should have been a top priority. Kisshu opened his eyes once the stars had faded, wiping his bangs - which had fallen into his eyes again - off his face with a violent swipe of his hand and snarling ferociously, nearly dropping the laser.
Abandoning all pretence of caution, he stretched the foil across the hole in the hull of the ship, pinning it to the slick metal with his torso, both hands, and one of his feet, not trusting himself enough to try to fly in such a violent storm. The slippery material slid under his fingertips with all the rainwater that ran under and over it; with some difficulty he held the sheet steady and pointed the laser at the edge of the foil, flipping the switch on the side with his tongue after a moment or two of fumbling and making faces at the metallic taste. He relaxed only slightly when the foil began to harden beneath him, removing one of his hands to move the laser fervently around the perimeter and wishing desperately that someone smart like Kashi or Pai had been sent on the mission with him so they could just fix the damned force field and be done with it.
He made relatively short work of the foil, tucking the laser down the neck of his tunic and hanging back on the rungs of the ladder to inspect his handiwork. He wouldn't be able to travel in space until he could fix the hull properly, but it was good enough to last through the storm, at least. Another bolt of lightning and a resounding crash of thunder reminded Kisshu of the danger he was still in and jolted him down the ladder a few rungs. A particularly strong gust of wind caught him off guard and he shouted again, feeling the wind swell around him and lift him from his perch, rendering him weightless.
With a shuddering gasp the air sucked him away from the ship and sent him plummeting. Kisshu flailed in space for a moment and gagged against the sensation of his stomach being hurled against his diaphragm, finally teleporting before he lost sight of the ship, despite the disorienting energy of the storm. He appeared moments later inside the ship's control room – sopping wet and a little too close to the very solid metal wall for his liking, but he wasn't in a position to complain about accuracy. He took a deep breath, swearing again and settling on the floor as his shaking knees gave out, just as the third bolt of lightning made the room glow brilliantly white and stood the hairs on the back of his neck on end.
A/N A ficlet that was written ages ago for sakuuya's theme exchange; the prompt was 'lightning'.
Being that the exchange appears to have been abandoned as a lost cause (which is a shame, because it was a neat idea, and participating in it was fun) I decided to post this to save it from an eternity of gathering cyber dust in my save files with all my half-finished fics.