Chapter 13

Threv's bondgroup had settled into the habitats on Berengaria V as best as possible. The temperature and dryness were intolerable for Andorians, and the limited environmental controls in the shelters were insufficient to stave off the heat. Not to mention their personal problems. They had all been assigned to the same small living area, but Sherene still refused to talk to any of them beyond grunts.

It was starting to look like their relationship would be irrevocable.

The storm outside was building, shaking the walls of the habitats, adding to everyone's tension. Threv, seeking solitude, made his way to the communal area. He found Sal sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by frozen food packs, negotiating prices with a crewmember. She still wore her waitress uniform, but her shaggy golden hair was tied back.

Despite everything, he smirked and made his way over. "At least someone's getting something out of all this," he said.

Sal smiled brightly at him. "Can't let all this good food go to waste. Can I interest you in anything? Got some burger patties, cheese slices, hotdog buns. Just need to stick them in a heating unit."

"Please, don't mention heat," he said, sitting across from her and dabbing at his sweaty antennae.

"Don't worry, I got some milkshakes too."

He nodded. "Banana. Add it to my tab."

"No more tabs, I'm afraid," Sal said even as she unscrewed a cylindrical flask and looked out a metal cup. "Gotta cash in all my debts."

Threv fished in his pocket for his credit chip and let Sal scan it in exchange for the 'shake. At least she hadn't put her prices up to take advantage of the panic.

Taking a swig of the refreshingly cold beverage, Threv gestured to all her goods covering the table. "Did you really use up your personal cargo space on this stuff?"

Sal leaned on the table, taking on a wistful expression. "Not all of it. But I don't have much stuff. This isn't the first planet I've lost. I'm used to a life on the move."

Threv gave her a sympathetic look. As usual around Sal, he couldn't help opening up. "I might be losing my family too."

She frowned. "What makes you say that?"

He took another swig of banana milkshake, his antennae bending forward in contemplation. "Things have got difficult. Not just this evacuation, that was kinda the last straw. Truths came out. Not everyone was happy."

Sal nodded. "Well, you know I'd be the first one to say you should do everything you can to keep your family together, before they're gone for good... But you can't hide the truth either, not forever. If some people can't handle that... then maybe it's not meant to be, and you shouldn't force it. Sometimes you just have to walk away. The universe has a funny way of resolving things."

Threv thought about this. He was going to miss Sal's casual wisdom.

Sometimes you have to walk away...

Another electromagnetic storm had formed, this time only a few kilometres from the habitats, and heading closer. Only the outermost edge would skirt them though. Still powerful enough to cause significant physical and electrical damage, however.

Thorpe watched the birds-eye diagram of the storm on the wall monitor in Unit A's small command centre. The display was already flickering from interference.

"Too late to pack up now, I guess," he said wearily.

"Wouldn't do much good," said Patel at his side. "The Tharp has been scanning the planet whenever they park in orbit, but it's getting this bad worldwide. Could last days. We'll just have to weather it. Uh, pardon the pun."

One of the compact consoles beeped, and Patel checked the readout. "The Tharp is reporting that their engines are starting to overheat. They're not built such high-speed travel in a short space of time. They're going to have to reduce speeds to keep in the game."

Thorpe rubbed his forehead. "Damn. That's gonna slow us down."

"The civilian ships will likely show the same wear and tear soon too, and will eventually have to stop altogether before overheating. The Independence and the Saratoga should last longer though. And the Garas is as stubborn as its crew."

"Still, it's a problem. There's hundreds of people remaining on the base."

Patel massaged her neck. "The last wave of evacuees can leave in shuttles, if need be. The starships can pick them up en route. Can even leave some people on Llamrei Station for a while."

"Even so, we're still bringing them here." Thorpe gestured out the window, where crimson sand whipped past in a blur. "Not much better off. This is not a permanent solution. It's barely a temporary one, if these storms keep up."

The two of them shared hopeless glances.

Then McQueen and Threv both entered the command centre simultaneously, each speaking over the other.

"Oh, uh, on you go," McQueen politely said to the young Andorian.

"No, Commander, I insist," Threv responded.

"Somebody go first," Thorpe said.

"Captain," said McQueen, "has Doctor T'Ling been evacuated yet?"

Thorpe thought a moment. "No, she's still on-site supervising the transport of medical supplies. Doesn't trust us laypeople, obviously."

"I need to go back to base and speak with her. It's important."

"You want to go back?" Thorpe said, incredulous.

"Me too, sir," said Threv, his antennae standing up proudly. "I'd like to go help with evac efforts on the base."

Thorpe found that even more inexplicable. "Guardsman, you have a family; you're exempt. I appreciate your sense of duty, but you don't need to prove anything."

"No, sir, but I need to get away... To do something."

Thorpe groaned and looked to Patel, who shrugged. "You said it yourself: It's not much better here."

"Fine," said Thorpe. "Jump on the next shuttle back, both of you. I'll comm them and let them know you're coming. I need to report in to Commodore North anyway."

The grateful duo swiftly exited, and Thorpe turned to Patel again.

"Why do I get the feeling they're the smart ones?"

His eyes went to the window again, where the wind was getting wilder.