Flying through the intense wind of the storm proved too difficult for Archangel in his weakened state. The long slumber had only healed a few battle wounds. As he approached the far side of the glacier, he landed on a high cliff of a mountain to wait out the storm.
The heavy rain did not affect his armored body. However, one strike from the frequent lightning could damage his biological components or damage some of the more harden deep space equipment. For protection, he began to build a shelter. The cliff provided the materials. Two large boulders and a slab of rock for a roof became that shelter. He sat down inside, wrapped his wings around his body, and then began to review his situation.
Reports of offline components whispered in the back of his mind. His damaged internal circuitry could not direct enough energy to key systems. The repair system worked from deep within his body first to the outside last. But the reports told of the more obvious damage.
A crack in his left eye visor meant the enhanced scanners were offline. Without two eyes his perception was limited, especially during combat.
The broken right arm had repaired to ninety-five percent operability. But the abdominal gash repairs were on hold. He could compensate for the performance loss both wounds represented.
The stardrive was offline until more repairs were completed. He was stuck on this planet.
The power level of his internal meson battery was still good for another few centuries. In a state of repair, that energy is redirected to molecule production, so the recall links to his hand weapons were offline.
The chronometer was out of sync. Without the chronometer, he had no concept of what time it was or how long he had been trapped. How long had it been since Rom led the attack on the wraith homeworld?
The storm continued. The shelter was doing a fine job of diverting the weather. The repairs were slow. His mind was left to ponder.