9:45 am, local time
Frontier world Vardonna 6.
Skylar village
On Vardonna 6, the rain was anything but normal.
Instead of falling in a constant barrage of drops, the water came down in much smaller ones, as more of a mist, or a spray. It didn't feel like standing under a showerhead, as it usually was with rain. You couldn't really spot the drops themselves falling. They more resembled falling fog, and they didn't make the distinctive pattering noise that rain was supposed to when they landed on hardened surfaces.
Instead, it felt more akin to getting sprayed from above. It fell so finely, that it took more than twice as long as normal rain to form pools, or collect into puddles. Even when it did finally did seem to soak gradually into the ground, it also lightly coated anything and everything with a thin layer of liquid that ran off easily, forming countless little rivers and streams. Best of all, it wasn't cold, or chilling, but soothingly cool.
It wasn't well understood why the rain on this world had those odd characteristics, or exactly how they worked. That may have been due to that there weren't many weather research stations established planet-side, but there was more to it that just lack of expertise and facilities:
The denizens of Vardonna 6- animals and humans alike- had all grown up with this bizarre mist-rain. It was a piece of their very psyche, dating back through generations upon one another.
Critters of all sizes habitually automatically came out of their dens and hideouts to drink from where the mist-rain filled up into ponds, sometimes migrating miles from their homes through the tightly packed semi tropical forests, bisected by narrow little arroyos that covered most of the planet, to reach the temporary watering holes. Meanwhile, in the sprawling openness of the plains regions dotted among the trees, where the farmers and homesteaders who made up the bulk of Vardonna 6's settlers lived, men and women clad in tarpaulin ponchos came out to check the irrigation pipes and chutes that ferried collected water onto their crops.
Mist-rain or shine, they had work to do.
It was the same all over the Frontier: Folks carved out a life by their own hands, as they had from the earliest days of colonization out here. Most of the settled worlds weren't industrialized yet, and homegrown agriculture still was what most lived by. It usually wasn't easy-on most days, it was anything but-, yet, they were proud of it.
They were their own masters, taking orders from nobody, and managing their own land.
As the adults set about tending to their livelihood, their children had work of their own.
Dodge ball
There was no room for anyone with no backbone in dodge ball.
The local spirit of " work as hard as you play " didn't show much more clearly than in how the youths of Vardonna played this sport. From at least 9, it was most kids' favorite pastime, spending their free hours organizing impromptu games anywhere where there was enough space, and the ground was flat and firm enough. Out in the streets, empty lots, and backyards were all turned into their playing fields, regularly doused by the mist-rain, and often slick with mud.
On said fields, matches were intense, often close called, and always with an argument or two. There weren't always adults around to keep things civil, as most of them had their work to attend to. Of course, the more responsible kids made sure to tell their parents where they were headed, which would make sure there was some form of a referee, but that wasn't always the case.
Such as, right now. A :
" You've been hit ! You're out ! "
A redheaded girl, with scattered freckles across her face and a scar on her chin pointed accusingly at a brunette with eyes of the same color, and about an inch shorter. The dodgeball in question sat on the wet ground, just beside her. Exactly where it should be if it had hit home.
Therein was the argument.
" I saw that one hit you ! Dead on ! ", the redhead insisted, punctuating it with a jab of said finger.
The brunette, though, didn't flinch, or even take a step forward. Instead, she defiantly stayed put.
And, this was where having someone to chair this match would've come in very handy.
" Just a graze. That's all you got on me. I'd be sure otherwise. "
Her coolly casual repose certainly didn't do anything to calm thing down ( though, leaving the field in the first place is probbably the only thing that woudl've done that ). Regardless, within seconds, players on both sides raised a clamor of clashing opinions, moving to the support of both players.
" No, you just hit her shoulder ! "
" Yeah, that kind of hot doesn't count. "
" You're serious ! She's out ! We can't play like this ! "
As they shouted, the redheaded girl decided to try taking control of the situation. She took a step forward, with both fists clenched.
" Woah, Katlin ! ", cried a nearby player, this one a boy with a mop of dark hair. " Hey, relax. She knows she's out, we'll just-"
"Not a chance ! "
Katlin shrugged off his attempt to slow her down, and stomped forward toward the brunette.
Maybe she planned to get psychical. Maybe she just intend to intimidate. Or, maybe she'd planned the latter first.
But, she didn't get to either way.
Out of nowhere, and without any hesitation, the brunette reached over and lifted the ball.
If Katlin wasn't angry before, she was for certain now. " HEY ! Put that down, and get out of here ! "
As if that had been some sort of signal, though, the brunette threw the ball at her. Hard.
It nailed Katlin on the chin, snapping her head back. With a surprisingly loud cry of pain, and shock, Katlin staggered off balance, then fell to both knees. The heavy dodge ball landed with a squelchy wet ' thump ' nearby.
Nobody said anything.
It had caught everyone off guard. Nobody said anything. Nobody moved, as the mist rain kept falling around them. Katlin didn't get up, either.
Then, slowly, the mop haired boy turned to face the brunette, who stood now with her fists clenched, and her stance defiant as ever.
" You've done it now, Sarah. "