Shiver

 Episode Name:  Shiver

   Written By:  Daedalus

         Cast:  Daedalus, Foster, Haven, Lopez, Takamura and Valentine.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Daedalus

     Aired On:  Wed Jan 26 15:45:14 2005

     Stardate:  54709.2

Time: Sat Jan 22 14:23:37 2005

Stardate: 54699.4

Four-and-a-half-days. And cold. Not just the usual cold of interstellar space, from which a mortal body is shielded by layers of duranium, a structural integrity field, environmental controls, and the warm pulsing of eletromagnetic plasma conduits. That only accounts for two of the days, the travel time by Runabout. Less than half of the cold has been that kind of cold. Instead, the windy, howling, bitter, bone-chilling cold of Fimdari in the wintertime. Through mutual consent of Lieutenant Takamura and Lieutenant Haven, the latter of whom is directly responsible for this sample-gathering mission, a few brief multi-hour forays to a few of Fimdari's few 'warm spots' were made for a wider spread of samples. But it soon became apparent that the kind of samples needed for whatever Lieutenant Haven is working on are best found in the cold and windy spaces, where temperature and ultraviolet light penetration and winds and mineral salts make it harder for the decay-inducing bateria to survive, and easier for biological specimens to do so. Now, with the mission winding down, with two and a half days of sample gathering complete, USS Amazon is preparing to depart. With the mission module set up for the palentology outing, for extra cargo space and a forensic biology lab for dissections and analysis that can double as a two-biobed emergency sickbay, Lieutenant Haven and Doctor Albertz are 'in the back' stowing and cataloging hundreds of biological and geological samples and placing them in stasis. Mister Foster of Timefleet is at one of the foreward Runabout controls, Ensign Lopez of Station 419 Operations at the other. Takamura and Valentine stand behind ... and we fade in on their activites and conversation.

Takamura stands with an arm raised against the bulkhead, looking at Valentine with a pleased expression. "Well, your morning hasn't been too bad has it? Now that we have the samples aboard, all you have to do is get us off the ground and headed back to the station to complete your Line Officer's Exam."

Valentine shakes her head slightly, speaking to Tak though her eyes are turned toward Foster and Lopez. "Not bad at all. No avalanches. No icy critter attacks. I'm almost chagrined at having spent a week poring over Fimdari files. I'm fairly sure Caleb can get us off the ground without scraping the Amazon's paint job, at least." She's teasing the Timefleet pilot a bit.

Lopez sits down at Mission Command.

A new piece of machinery has been added to Lieutenant Junior Grade Foster's usual 'Away Mission' set. While yes, the Type II phaser and the tricorder still hang from their places on his belt, a large PADD has been added for easier access. Since the beginning of Alpha shift, that PADD has been doubling the standard log recorders of the Amazon, keyed to record the goings-on separately. Occasionally, the training officer has drawn the PADD back over to him in order to make some kinds of notes on it, though what they are are anyone's guess. Likewise, since that time, his expression hasn't changed from a completely neutral one. Takamura will probably recognize that - it's the result of his training to resist brainwashing and other behavioral modification routines, except being applied in another direction. Even Valentine's audible teasing gets no response from Foster. Not even a shift of the eyes or the crack of a smile.

Within a moment, the blinking patterns on the forward consoles indicate that approval from the ADF-manned Atmospheric and Orbital Traffic Command to proceed with liftoff has been granted.

Takamura notices the blinking and grins. Pointing to the console, he comments, "Well, it looks like it's time for you to take this show on the road, Ensign. What are your orders?"

Valentine nods slightly. "Are we ready to go, gentleman?" she inquires of Foster and Lopez.

Foster glances at the helm control in front of him and brushes his fingers over a few buttons. He replies, evenly, without any particular passion to his tone, "All systems go for liftoff."

And sitting beside Mr. 'Giggles' Foster, Ana Lopez is cold. Still. Even in uniform parka, and inside the runabout, bitterly, bitterly cold. Probably psychological. As she reaches for the surface of the second console, her fingers make little claw-shapes. Generally, she says genially. "Standing by for your order. We can get off this hail-ball."

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

. o O Valentine is suddenly rather glad that Nolte or Fitzpatrick isn't along on this mission.

Since it appears they are about to take off, Takamura sits down at the Tactical station.

"I'm sure the locals would appreciate your assessment, Ensign Lopez," Tara drawls dryly. "Lieutenant Foster, launch, please. Full impulse after we clear the planet."

Takamura sits down at Tactical.

<CONTEST> Lopez contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

Foster shifts his attention more fully to the flight console, bringing the engines up to full power, as evidenced by the increase in its sound. Small ship + relatively powerful engine = obvious audio response. "Lifting," the pilot says, casually keeping an eye on the sensors as he lifts out of atmosphere. "Hell," he intones softly to himself a few moments later. He lifts his voice, still maintaining the neutral tone. "Everyone brace yourselves!" His concentration shifts into his rather normal combat flying state as the entire shuttle begins an abrupt turn that definitely WASN'T pre-programmed.

When some says "brace" Ensign Lopez has never needed to be told twice. Her arms tighten onto the console before her.

It is a good thing Takamura decided to sit down /before/ they lifted off. Consequently, the Timefleet Commander is in a much better position to brace himself against the sudden turn. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly clamps it shut since this isn't his command.

With only Foster's quick reflexes to warn them, there is the sudden jolt that is more than physical, the feeling of hitting something that is at once both expressible in pounds-per-square-inch of pressure and in some portion of terawattsof power. The kind of collision that can ruin a Runabout crew's day entirely, if not permanently, is clearly at hand.

. o O Takamura thinks, "What the heck was that? Wait a sec, Hiroshi. Let Tara ask the questions. This is her show."

GAME: Foster spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Foster (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Valentine grabs for a bulkhead in automatic respons to Foster's exclamation. She /knew/ she should have grabbed the empty Engineering seat when she could. Ah well. "Report!"

. o O Valentine thinks, "So much for everything going nice and smooth. Bloody hell."

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Coordination (Reaction) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

"Ion storm forming in Fimdari's upper atmosphere hard'a'starboard," Foster responds in that same neutral, almost deadpan, voice. Of course, the location isn't that hard to figure out, considering the turn is a hard'a'port turn, intended to take them away from the spontaneously-forming storm. There are a few quiet, tense seconds before he announces, "Looks like the Amazon's going to need a new paint job. And that's about it."

Lopez is placed by the jarring force across her console, at an ideal position to read the message now scrolling across its surface. "Automated transmitted warning," she says. "They have a 'system'. Calls it a spontaneous atmospheric energy wavefront... Known to happen, but highly unpredictable, Sir."

There are, however, the sounds of jarring movement from the back which bely that everything is one-hundred percent okay. Through the wide cockpit 'viewport' the storm can be seen to suddenly shift and surge and then die out as rapidly as it came, a deadly nuisance.

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Space Sciences skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Takamura runs a diagnostic on his systems to make certain that there is no damage to the tactical systems. Once the results come up, he reports. "Starboard Structural Integrity Field down to 94 percent. Other systems nominal."

Valentine straightens slowly from the instinctive hunching her body did at the storm-ish 'attack'. "Nice flying, Lieutenant," she offers sincerely, and demurs from commenting on the need for a new paint job. "Methinks their automation could use a bit of upgrading. In any case... resume our previous course, please, Lieutenant Foster." She glances out the viewport balefully for a half-second, then controls a wince as she looks aft, nodding to acknowledge Tak's report. "What's your status back there, Lieutenant Haven?"

Haven makes an appearance, one hand rubbing her elbow, to ask. "Ok.. whose flying this tub?" Even as she asks, her gaze swings to Foster to waggle a finger at him. "No more Kait home brew for you, mister.." Then a frown forms, "What's going on?" Hmm? "We're fine. Looks to be only one sample damaged. The doc i checking the others now and shoring us up against further jolts."

With one hand, Foster, face still completely neutral, is adjusting back to the previous course. The other hand has reached for that PADD of his, and is calling up information. "There's less than a one-one-millionth of a percent of a chance for a storm like that to form this low in the atmosphere of a Class M planet. Interesting." But he apparently doesn't do anything but follow the orders given. Even his tone hasn't changed - it's the same deadpan neutral tone he's been using since the beginning of alpha shift.

Lopez sits back at her station, eyes to console as the datastream leavens, and then once again thins. "Sir," she says, craning her neck around. "We're being hailed by Traffic Control."

. o O Valentine thinks, "Of /course/ we are. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if a Romulan warbird showed up shooting."

Takamura turns his head to look at the others in the cockpit with a raised brow. "That is strange indeed."

Valentine nods toward Haven. "Ionic storm. Sorry, Lieutenant, couldn't be helped." She looks around sharply toward Foster. "One-one-millionth." Slight pause. "Very interesting indeed. Tag the sensor log for relay to Sciences when we're back at the station..." At Lopez's comment, she looks ruefully toward the woman. This is just getting better and better. Uh huh. "Open the channel, please, Ensign."

. o O Takamura thinks, "Hmm. What could have caused that storm then if it is so improbable?"

Haven perks up a brow at the Ensign then blinks. "Do you know when this 'storm' formed?"

Foster nods, "Indeed. Normally a storm like that can form, at best, in the ionosphere, or in certain magnetic fields in space proper, but not that far down in the normal atmosphere. It's just too dense to support it." He answers the doctor's question, "About the time we turned hard away from it, sir."

Fingers less than their steadiest, the Missions Ensign is a busy little bee, moving to a virtual symphony of abbreviated tones that her station gives off. A channel is opened onscreen, for the acknowledge.

"USS Amazon," comes the voice, "this is Shaklas Rimosi at 1st Legion Traffic Control. We've got you as intercepting one of our homegrown Fimdari ion-blizzards out there. The fact that you answered the hail indicates you survived intact -- will you need help with repairs, or are you alright?"

. o O Valentine thinks, "Talking weather. Not what I expected on this mission."

Takamura looks to the screen to listen to the Andorian while keeping an eye on his console as well.

Valentine glances upward slightly. "We're good, thank you, Shaklas. Rather unusual storm, though, it seems. Lieutenant Foster," she glances toward him, "Relay the coordinates of that storm to the Shaklas' people, please."

Haven perks up her other brow, "A homegrown ion-blizzard that forms -just- as we lift off and change our vector for home. How.... " and here her voice drops so that only the bridge crew hear it. "..convenient."

. o O Valentine thinks, "You ain't just whistling a quaint regional ditty, Lieutenant."

"Aye, aye, sir," Foster says, tapping in the commands to relay the coordinates of the storm - even if it's not there anymore - to the Andorians on the planet.

. o O Lopez thinks, "Too convenient. But then, ought to be used to that by now."

Lopez standsby for orders, otherwise directing her attentions to keeping the communications frequencies at optimum efficiency. No telling, round these parts.

<CONTEST> Lopez contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

"Very unusual," the Shaklas agrees. The tall, thin Andorian looks chagrined, though just a tad. "We've been working with The Survey" -- the Allied military shorthand for the Andorian Astrometric Survey Corps, the non-military scientific and exploratory counterpart to the ADF -- "for years to figure these out. They come and go without warning, in short bursts every few weeks. The one that just hit you, we had on our scanners as soon as it formed and sent out a burst call."

Takamura quirks a brow as he listens, but makes no comment.

"We appreciate the warning attempt, Shaklas," Valentine says smoothly. "If we come up with anything useful on the storms, we'll let you know. Amazon out." The traditional throat-slashing gesture toward Lopez, and she looks toward Foster. "Are we clear to proceed, Lieutenant?"

<CONTEST> Lopez contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Foster checks his scanners for several moments, then nods. "Clear to proceed."

Lopez's eyes narrow as she goes about her task, breaking the open channel double-time (because Valentine is just plain scary, making that throat-slashing gesture), hands going still on the prompts. She twists about again, at an unnatural angle saying to Valentine, "Excuse me, sir, we have a... another issue. A Priority One-C distress call is broadcasting from about 60 klicks north of our position. General call for assistance. Its a non-responsive..." Someone else received some ion-storm lovin', perhaps? Why has no one else picked up on it?

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

GAME: Valentine spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Valentine (claiming advantage) contests her Law (Starfleet Regulations) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Takamura narrows his eyes as he thinks about the comm conversation adn checks his tactical readouts. After Lopez's report, he cross references the news with his data. "Ensign, there are two other vessels closer to the distress call. An ADF orbital shuttle appears to be only a few klicks from the signal source. And there is a private keth transport approximately halfway between the signal and the Amazon."

"Good." Tara moves forward, settling a hand on the back of the pilot's seat. "Sweep the area with our sensors, and feed the info on the storm to Lieutenant Haven. I want to know what the hell caused that storm." Okay, so she's a trifle more concerned about that than she was letting on. Her gaze snaps abruptly toward Lopez. "Give Lieutenant Foster the coordinates. Lieutenant, plot an intercept course in case we need it." GLancing briefly toward Tak, then back to Lopez, "Anybody else in the area responding to the call, Ensign?"

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

GAME: Lopez spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Lopez (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Communications) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

. o O Valentine thinks, "And just when I think it can't get any worse, life reminds me I'm wrong."

Lopez feeds the coordinates to Foster, from station to station-- hell, she could as quickly read them off. But she does not sit on it working at the controls again. Looking for something. "Okay, lets get some audio...Somethings definately off," she says quietly, and to herself. Louder, and with emphasis, "Neither of those ships are acknowledging the hail. In fact, on that entire stretch of planet... everyone is ignoring it. Completely. Not even a response ping."

"Plotting course," Foster responds the moment he has the coordinates. "Plotted." A quick consultation with his sensors adds the following information. "The two vessels mentioned are not deviating from course. The ADF shuttle is on a standard patrol circuit, while the transport is hovering just above some kind of mining camp."

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Takamura taps away at his console, scanning the area near the signal's origin. "It appears that the signal is coming from a small encampment at the edge of where the tundra meets a 'riverbed' of slightly melted glacier ice. There are a dozen humanoids, most of the lifesigns are human or near-human, only one or two are Andorian. I'm also detecting a large portable power source like a field fusion generator for powering whatever they have there."

Valentine blinks, then her brow furrows. She nods acknowledgement toward Tak, then says, "Ensign, relay the distress call to ADF. Lieutenant Foster, sixty klicks. Let's see how fast you can get us there without ripping apart the atmosphere." She straightens, grimacing a bit. "That damn storm. If it's setting off distress relays needlessly," which would explain a par-for-the-course non-reaction from the Fimdari folks, "I'm going to go down there and fine-tune their sensors myself." It's half-promise, half-threat.

Foster taps in the command to engage the program he created moments before. "A bit over four minutes to their location."

The audio on Mr. Lopez station hisses to life meanwhile: "...say again, this is a medical emergency. A medical emergency. I'm sorry if this is not in the right distress call format, but our communications specialist and our field medic are both injured. Please help us. Someone at least please respond." Nope. Not a drill.

Lopez frowns mightily, as she relays the distress signal and query away to ADF, as ordered.

. o O Lopez thinks, "Hamish, I hope you've had a restful trip... because it looks like maybe you are about to get very busy."

Takamura doesn't look pleased by this turn of events. He focuses on his console readouts, but adds no new information.

Valentine tilts her head, listening, then her gaze whips around. "Let's start breaking out the med packs. Mr. Lopez, acknowledge and give 'em our ETA. Ask for specifics on the injuries."

Haven's attention returns from what-ever mental calculations she was running in her head...probably a recipe for caramel nut muffins. Until more details are offered up, there isn't' much she can do about it other then to wait like everyone else.

There is a slight lag as Lopez's terminal recieves a short, and terse response. "Uh," says a slightly red-faced Lopez. "ADF claims," she says tightly, "-that they have received no such distress call." A shake of her head is all she can apparently muster up for that. "Communicating now with a Dr. Vale of the ground team." She bends low, and speaks softly, but from the other end, "Thank the Great Bird you've responded!" rings out, loud and clear.

Dr. Vale continues, in fact, "We're down our medic, and our communications specialist. I don't think they're going to make it. The rest of us are okay, for now. Please, help."

Takamura attempts to get a fix on their precise location.

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Valentine's frown is getting deeper at Lopez's report. "And they're ignoring the relay," she takes a (not) wild guess, and adds reassuringly, "Can't force somebody to listen, Ensign. Lieutenant Haven, get on the horn and see if you can get some sense out of the good doctor and find out what you're going to be dealing with."

Haven nods to Valentine and speaks up, her voice carrying with it an easy confidence that seems to fit her. "Dr Vale, this is Lieutenant Haven, one of the doctors aboard our vessel. In order for us to help you out, I need to know what's going on. What injuries are we talking about? What danger levels are we looking at? What caused the injuries? Anything you can tell me would be great appreciated in ascertaining how best to render aid."

"Lieutenant, if we knew, half the problem would be resolved right there. But our guide keeps talking about a demon, and tells us we're not safe, and at least two of the graduate students are starting to believe him. They seem to have some kind of hypothermia, cutting through their clothes as well as, at least in the case of Doctor Kinn, our environmental homeostasis field. Please hur---" Something pauses him. "I have to go now. Please hurry."

And with that, the signal cuts off.

. o O Valentine thinks, "Ya know, I bet I could make a great living as a pastry chef..."

. o O Takamura thinks, "A Demon? Something sounds fishy about this whole situation."

Haven turns a look on Val and gives a little snort. "Demons. They make wonderful medical emergencies."

"One minute to their location," Foster mentions off-handedly.

Lopez darkly comments, "Demon or not-- two people are dying down there at the base camp, and could potentially be dead by the time the surface can be reaches. How many times does an away team actually step into the situation they thought they were, anyway?"

Takamura frowns as he listens to the sit-rep and more so at his readouts. "I'm unable to get a transporter lock on the two injured individuals. If this continues, we might have to send a team on the ground with transport pattern enhancers."

Valentine's expression does /not/ get any lighter as she listens. "The universe obviously doesn't want you to be bored, Lieutenant," she tells Haven, with a nod at Lopez's words. "It's one way to get in some exorcise, at any rate." She looks toward Tak humorlessly despite her words. "Stand by to assist Lieutenant Haven. Lieutenant Foster, find us a good landing spot. Mr. Lopez, set up the enhancers. Let's roll, folks."

A few minutes later, after some very hasty introductions and even hastier transportation of the injured, two unconscious bodies -- a Centauran woman and a Tellarite man -- are lying on the simple biobeds of the forensic-lab-turned-sickbay of the Runabout's specialized planetary paleontology module. Two other civilians, another Centauran who identifies himself as Dr. Harlon Vale and a younger man named James McNabb, stand in the corrider 'twixt cockpit and center module. Outside the open hatch of the runabout, there is the cold, oh, yes, the cold, even through the SIF. An Andorian can be seen moving amongst an otherwise exclusively Centauran and Human bunch, eyes constantly scanning the horizon for something. A second such Fimdari local stands near the open hatchway, as if debating entering the Runabout, as well.

Takamura stands near the hatch as well, wearing his parka covered with now melting snow. He looks at the Andorians curiously. "If you are worried about the Demon, you would be better off aboard the runabout so we can get you back to safety."

Valentine stays well out of the way, watching for a moment, then she moves fore again, beckoning to two of her crew members, keeping her voice low. "Ensign Lopez, Lieutenant Foster. Start scanning the area. I want to know why, one, we couldn't get a transporter lock, and two, what the hell is going on here. Chat 'em up, see if you can find out what they're doing here in the first place."

Haven has her own work to deal with and she wastes no time in getting to the those that are down. Standing between them, she begins to run scans with the biobeds and begins her own with a medical tricorder. "How long have they been unconscious," she asks. "And what where they doing when it happened?"

Foster gathers his PADD up, apparently entering something into it before drawing his tricorder from his belt. He too has switched (back) to his parka, and that makes for some additional difficulties, but hey, if he has no trouble with an environmental suit, a parka sure isn't going to slow him down. It's actually kind of amusing. There's a whole lot more red in this getup than in his *regular* uniform. "I'll go take readings."

GAME: Haven spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Haven (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Medical Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

GAME: Foster spends a courage point.

Lopez, a native Miamian, doesn't wanna. She doesn't wanna go out into Fimdari's flesh-freezing climate. So when she's told to start scanning, oh how eager she is to do that scanning from the Runabout *first*. Oh please, oh please... But ultimately, out with tricorder and Foster she must go. Here, Demon, demon, demon? Niiiiice demon.

<CONTEST> Foster (claiming advantage) contests his Personal Equipment (Temporal Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!

GAME: Lopez spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Lopez (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

The Andorian near the hatchway says to Takamura, "The Hoarfrost Demon is what concerns me, yes. But my brother and I have signed a contract to guide the expedition. Until they wish to leave, there is very little I can do but remain." Beyond him, the rest of the expedition casts nervous looks as they batten down hatches and stow gear. Perhaps they *are* getting ready to leave. Within the short stubby corridor of the Runabout, the man identified as McNabb speaks up, "I ... was walking with Doctor Kinn." He gestures to the Centauran woman. "Professor Gar was a bit behind us." He then gestures to the Tellarite man. "We were going to collect some more specimens. Professor Gar mentioned that the scanner modifications we would need to do in these weather conditions would be a good practice for my applied physics exam. So I left them for just a minute to run back to the basecamp and grab it. That's when the storm hit. They ran back for the basecamp line. Where our environmental shields extend. Doctor Kimm made it. Professor Gar didn't. Something got him. I thought it was the wind at first. But then Doctor Kimm turned to see if she could find him. She ... was too close to the field. Something reached ... into the field." He falls silent for a moment. "I'm sure it wasn't a demon. That's not possible.Bbut I couldn't tell you *what* it was."

Valentine nods toward Foster and Lopez, then turns, listening quietly as Takamura and the Andorian converse.

Takamura listens to the Andorian's story, then looks to McNabb. "What sort of specimens were you collecting? And what type of storm hit you?" As he crewmates head for the hatch, he steps out of the way.

Haven is in the process of pulling up blankets on her patients when the biobeds begin to beep in readiness for their data to be read. Se takes a moment to compare biobed info with tricorder info then nods. "Signs of neural shock, physical shock, as well as frost bite. I'll start with things here. I can't tell the cause of the frost bite so while I'm looking into that, I'd suggest a check of the other away team members. Just to be on the safe side."

"Bloody hell," Foster says, showing the first hint of emotion since the beginning of alpha shift in the form of extreme urgency, "Get everyone in! Ion storm incoming, 20 seconds at most!" He tears right back into the shuttle proper, heading for the tactical station ... and the Runabout's shields, which he attempts to bring to full power and extend.

Lopez is hot on his heels, not having been fast enough at the tricorder. She *hates* Fimdari.

GAME: Lopez spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Lopez (claiming advantage) contests her Athletics (Running) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

In fact, the storm is fast approaching, just suddenly roaring into a coalesced manifestation at the edge of the tundra. Spurred on by Foster sudden exclaimed shout, their collective hue and cry drowns out whatever McNabb was about to say to Takamura in response. The researchers *run* towards the Runabout, and board in haste. One old man who doesn't move very fast, doesn't look like he's going to make it at first, but Ensign Lopez, in her long stride, *yanks* him along and the hatch comes down just as everything comes crashing down. The shields, not totally up in time, don't need to be -- without the Runabout's own forward momentum factoring into the equation, there's less relative velocity with the turbulent air and ice kicked up by the ionized pressure front. There's some pelting, but duranium and transparent aluminum are stern stuff, and the ionized coruscation passes over the Runabout quickly, jostling and sizzling and howling and ... well, it's not pleasant, but neither, thanks to Lopez's legs, does anyone die, not even a toddling old Centauran on unsteady feet.

Takamura assists everyone into the Runabout, shutting the hatch just in time. While the storm howls around them, he turns to Valentine. "I recommend that we depart immediately. I don't think it is safe for us to stay here any longer."

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Medical Sciences (Pathology) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Valentine looks around toward Foster as she steadies herself. "Any more of those bloody storms coming?" Back to Tak. "The Amazon isn't equipped to evacuate the entire expedition. Are you suggesting we leave them all here?"

At one point during the extended duration of the storm, Foster finds himself studying his sensors with more concentration than one would expect. His brow furrows slightly in confusion as he works, apparently not quite believing his eyes. However, all he says about it, after the minutes pass, is, "Hm." At the question, he blinks a couple of times in distraction, and looks back at the sensors, "Not right at the moment, but the Shaklas did call it a wavefront. So they probably come in waves."

Ribcage rising and falling, mostly in an adrenaline rush, Lopez bends low with hands to her knees. "Missions concurs, Sir," she says gustily. "...Recommend in the interests of making room for biotic life that.." a guilt-ridden looks towards 'the back' "-we lose the specimens. Beam them out. We only need to get these people to a population center of any size, away from here. During the next lapse in waves."

Pushing forward through the sudden crowd and press of civilian bodies is Dr. Vale. "What is it, are we leaving?"

Takamura turns to Dr. Vale at his question. "That is up to Ensign Valentine."

Valentine looks toward Foster, then Lopez. Without hesitation, but with a very neutral expression and tone, she says, "Agreed. Dump 'em, Mr. Lopez. Mr. Foster, make sure we have all of the expedition on board, and get us out of here." Deliberately, only now does her gaze travel toward Vale. "Yes, Doctor, we are leaving. Any particular reason we shouldn't?"

. o O Valentine thinks, "Mission failed. To hell with the LOE. I'm not going to leave these people here to die."

GAME: Foster spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Foster (claiming advantage) contests his Computer (Modeling) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

"Um," Foster says, staring at the computer. "There is - or was - something else out there. I'm reading biomass, but it's the strangest biomass I've ever seen. Perhaps the doctor might have better luck with it." But he steps away and begins to check and make sure everyone is here.

Lopez moves to man her station, and bring up the necessary program to ditch the samples, and give Dr. Albertz some warning about what she is about to do. "Biomass?" she asks, in the direction of Foster. "How big are we talking... like, a man?" Or a demon?

. o O Lopez thinks, "The place! Es como Seqora Pele. You can't take anything away from it."

With that revelation of Foster's, however, the situation changes. Several pairs of Terran and Centauran eyes turn on the Andorians, one of whom simply says "It is the Hoarfrost Demon. We did try to warn you. This is not the first expedition that has been attacked. It will not be the last." Doctor Vale, for his own part, looks very uncomfortable at this talk. "The Trustees and the Council won't let us give up on this expedition. If you can pull us back to a safe distance, we can perhaps regroup after the storm has passed and arrange transport back here to dig up our power-core and supplies."

GAME: Takamura spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!

Takamura takes up station at Tactical to get a readout on this bio-mass. "I'm not picking anything up on Sensors. Perhaps the storm is playing tricks on us."

Valentine closes her eyes for a count of three. "Belay the launch order. How long do we have until the next-" She glances toward Tak for a moment, then looks toward Foster. "Send those readings to the engineering station, if you would." Toward which she gestures. "Doctor Vale..." She gives him a sharp look. "The Trustees and the Council?"

"Humanoid, at least," Foster says, in answer to Lopez's question. He reaches for his PADD and makes another note in it, while he continues to speak, "But not like any kind I've ever seen. Its edges were hazy, indistinct. And the way it was moving through the storm? It was clear it wasn't being affected by either the wind or the ionic discharges. But it was most definitely there. Until it wasn't." He nods at Takamura's comment, "That'd be because it's not there anymore. That's why I said 'was'. It was only there for about two minutes total, during the height of the storm. And then it just vanished, much like it appeared. I wasn't sure it was there at first either, which is why I cleaned it up some to be more sure." At Valentine's order, he sends both sets of information, unclean and clean, to the Engineering station.

Vale seems a bit taken aback at the look Valentine shoots him, recoiling from her slightly. "The Trustees of the University of Oreas, on Alpha Centauri. The Federation Science Council, serving as the co-sponsor of this expedition with the University. Is there some reason for this ... attitude, Ensign?"

Takamura quirks a brow at Foster's statement. "You said it appeared during the height of the storm, then disappeared? Can you determine if these storms can be artificially created?" He then looks back to Vale. "She's trying to make sure we all get out of this in one piece, Doctor. Your lives are more important than your research at this moment."

"Doctor, I suggest you pay attention to the readings, which will probably quite enhance your research" Tara says patiently, allowing Tak to explain the way things are, and she moves toward the front of the craft. "Time to the next storm wave?"

Foster considers the question, while keying some more things into his PADD. He responds neutrally, "I imagine any storm could be created, with enough of the right technology, but I'm not familiar with any kind that can do it, particularly with the kind of resistance there should be this deep into atmosphere. "As for timing the storm waves, there is none. They appear to be completely random, if clustered. We could step out there right into the iddle of another one brewing, or we could be free of them for weeks."

Lopez uneasily taps her fingers on the edge of her console, unzips her parka. "The counsel can recreate study. They will understand. No one who'd ask your deaths for something replicated in other ways at other times deserves your labors."

Dr. Vale remains unconvinced. In fact, the series of answers and interjections cause him to stamp his foot. "Now *see here*!", he says, "I will not be condescended to in this fashion. You came to help our injured, and I'm grateful, but now you're taking charge where you have no authority and, even more insultingly, you're being downright rude about it, spouting silly platitudes that, if the situation were reversed, you'd answer with pious appeals to justice and duty. But Great Bird forbid *I* have duty. To you, it's nothing. There's no storm now, is there?" He gestures outside. Clearly, he intends to depart.

Takamura turns around to look at the Centauran. "Doctor Vale. If we let you leave the protection of this ship, I believe that you and your expedition will not survive. I believe that there are forces conspiring against your research and I'm not talking about nature or a legendary creature. You requested our assistance to save your wounded. If you go outside, you will soon be requesting our aid again."

Valentine nods once, shortly. "Lieutenant Takamura, escort Doctor Vale aft, please." She simply doesn't have the time to be diplomatic, even for the doctor's own good. Her gaze returns to Foster. "Anything else coming up on those scans? If not, it's time to launch."

Foster raises an eyebrow as Lieutenant Takamura begins to respond to Doctor Vale, but it's gone before the Asian man can look back and see it. When Valentine asks her question, Foster sits back down at the Helm and checks the sensors. "No, not a thing is coming up." He remains there, ready for orders.

<CONTEST> Lopez contests her Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Lopez gets enough of the samples out of the cargo area to lighten the load sufficiently. "Within weight tolerances," she reports.

The moment Valentine's orders sink in, Vale steps back a pace, defensively. One of the two Andorian guides steps towards him, and just gives one shake of his head, a denial that should imply a very simple message to the Timefleet officer: that these are guards as well as guides, and that to lay a hand on the angry academic at this point means being willing to risk a tussle.

Takamura rises from his seat, turning to the Centauran and the Andorians. "Gentlemen, please retire to the rear lounge with everyone else. We're trying to keep you safe. You can return to your research later."

Valentine ignores the goings on between Takamura and the expedition matters, satisfied that he can handle it. "Lift off, Lieutenant Foster. We'll drop 'em off at the nearest population center."

"Aye," Foster responds, his fingers brushing over the controls. "Lifting off." Slowly, the shuttle lifts off of Fimdari, and begins to turn towards the nearest population center.

Lopez stands up from her station, preparing to put her body between Foster and the rest of the cabin. Nothing must interfere with the flight, one it is in the air. Her hand strays near to her hip, and lingers.

At that point, Vale puts his hand on the Andorian's arm, and says in the other man's native tongue, translated by the UTs, "No, no, Prythra Vetra. What's done is done. Let us comply for now, and file our criminal charges against these officers later." He steps backwards, into the short corridor, tugging the Andorian -- who keeps eyeing Takamura steadily -- with him.

As the civilians retreat to the rear of the runabout, Takamura returns to the tactical station. The Andorian's gaze does nothing to intimidate him. Instead, he watches his readouts for any sign of the creature's return.

Valentine turns her gaze toward the viewscreen, and keeps it there, her jaw tight.

Foster patiently handles the flight of the shuttlecraft, carrying them directly to the nearest population center. He comments, "We will probably be kept for a while, as we are carrying two severely injured people. There are bound to be inquiries." At least, he hopes so.

Lopez mutters, "If anyone needs to be charged with anything, its those cretins who obviously were ignoring a distress call. She reseats herself, and leans back.

Outside the viewport, the world is quiet, the world is white vistas of snow and ice, only occasionally broken by a feature of the terrain or, in the distance, a shuttle or a settlement too tiny to count as a real 'population center'. Eventually, however, one is in sight and the final approach begins.

As the flight continues, Takamura glances over to Lopez. "Were you able to keep any of the specimens aboard?"

"If that's what the local authorities require, then that's what they require," Tara responds to Foster, a bit wearily. She glances toward Lopez, and carefully avoids nodding her agreement.

Foster remains silent and, yes, neutral, as he watches both the shuttle's controls and, occasionally, the white world outside.

Lopez leans over her terminal. "Very, very few. It is possible what we left might later be retreived, sirs."

And with that, soon enough, there is a landing site, by a city big enough to have facilities for care of the wounded, and hostels to take in the expedition. The ship lands. The hatch is opened. One by one, the members of the University of Oreas expedition file out. There are glares, and there are mutters. But they go.

Takamura watches as the ungrateful rescuees file out. Once they have all left, he turns back to the crew. "I think we should return to that site immediately and retrieve those specimens before it is too late."

Valentine lets out a long breath as the hatch closes again. "Yes. Lieutenant Foster, I assume you have the coordinates. Then we go home."

"Then we return," Foster says, lifting the shuttle back up into Fimdari's sky once more, and aiming it back towards the coordinates so recently left. "It shouldn't take too long to get there, assuming no other difficulties."

Lopez mutters to herself, and under her breath, in her cradle-language she says, "That'll be the day."

And so it is that, less than 20 minutes after liftoff from the tundra-site, USS Amazon returns. Only to find that another round of storm has come and gone, and buried the samples transported out onto the snow. Oh, they're there alright, but retreiving them? That is work for another day. And, perhaps, another round of storms...