“What?”

“There’s a storm brewing at the expedition site,” Lieutenant Jenu Trid repeated for her captain. “It just suddenly came up.”

The curve of the planet Leytan III and the cosmos beyond was instantly replaced by one provided by Republic’s dorsal cameras, looking down upon the planet they orbited. Where a nearly cloudless atmosphere reigned, a dark vortex dominated. More and more clouds continued to form, the cyclonic system centred directly on the monolith they had all come to study. Grey clouds shifted to dark grey to nearly black in a matter of moments as they watched, flickers of lightning illuminating the clouds.

There was no eye in this storm, no calm heart. This was dark and angry, made worse by the near-noon sun overhead.

“Get me the away team,” Captain Charles MacIntyre ordered, getting to his feet and down the steps before him, closing on the main viewer.

“Laser comms are out and the radio channels are full of static,” Trid informed. “Sensors are picking up multiple strikes near the campsite as well.”

“Goddammit,” Mac muttered under his breath. “How far out is Atlantis?”

“Hour and twenty to orbit,” Trid answered immediately.

“We still haven’t tested flying a shuttle in that interference field, have we?”

“Not yet.” A few taps on her console and Trid brought up all the information she could gleam about the storm raging below them now, flashing it onto the viewscreen for everyone to see. “But I wouldn’t want to fly in a shuttle in that.”

“Good thing we have a band of crazy people on board then,” Mac said, looking to Cat Saez who was present at the helm. “Right?”

Cat shook her head violently, her eyes wide at the prospect being implied. “Tell you the truth, boss, I don’t want to fly anything smaller than a light cruiser in that storm. The Witches would just be knocked about in that storm. Interference field or no, we’d be forced away or forced down. Just look at those crosswinds.”

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose, forefinger rubbing at his forehead in thought. “I want rescue plans, people, and I want them right now.”

The last of the away team had ducked into the newly opened tunnel just as the first lightning strike had hit the camp. The crack of the electrical discharge, deafening at this range, was followed by a sharp bang as one of the rovers exploded, debris raining down on the tunnel entrance, still flaming from the exploded power pack.

“That was way to – ” Sam was cut off by another ear-splitting crack of lightning.

“Further into the tunnels, folks!” Matt Lake shouted, starting to shoo people into the darkness as flashlights started to blink on. “Let’s get some distance so we don’t all go deaf!”

“Come on, Sam,” Gabrielle said, just hard enough to be a friendly order. “Safety, then shelter, then plan.”

The entire away team had barely moved thirty metres down the tunnel, directly in the direction of the monolith and past where it should have presented an insurmountable obstacle. The tunnel shifted from the stone of the plinth to the black stone of the monolith smoothly.

“Wait up.” Sam was still at the read of the group, holding a hand up to silence those that turned back to look in her direction. “Hear that?”

“Hear what?” Matt asked.

“Lightning has stopped.” Sam turned back the way they had come and took a single step back towards the entrance with its flaming wreckage.

And as soon as she did, another ear-splitting crack filled the air as lightning grounded itself nearby. And continued until Sam retreated further down the tunnel once more.

“Now that can’t be coincidental.” Matt’s declaration of the obvious was met with expressions from Gabrielle and Sam that agreed with him, though Sam’s was far more sarcastic.

“Commander!” came a shout from someone now inside the monolith. “You might want to see this!”

“Coming!” both Gabs and Matt responded.

“You first, Commander,” Matt quickly followed with a sweep of his arm.

“We should leave,” Willow Beckman repeated once more. “Leave and burn all the roads.”

“Okay, now that sounds like fear to me,” Blake quipped as she walked around Willow, hand scanner pointed at the young woman while reading from her tricorder.

“Because it is fear,” Terax grumbled. “Do you know what you should do when a semihemidemigod is telling you to run?”

“Semihemidemigod? You’re bringing musical theory into this?” Blake looked up at Terax, who’s normally disapproving glare had shifted to slight confusion at being called out, then vague respect. “And do you want my opinion, or Starfleet’s opinion based on track record?”

“Ugh,” Terax intoned. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

“Eventually,” Blake scoffed. “Starfleet, after all, has a proud and distinguished history of taking down gods and demons.”

Willow’s sudden movement caused Blake to shudder and step back briefly. Those golden eyes had locked onto her and were all the more disturbing for the lack of pupils. “We do, don’t we?”

“Gonna stop prophesying our doom?” Blake asked of the young helmswoman.

“If the old masters of this place come back, we are doomed.” Then a faint grin started to curl at Willow’s lips. “We’ve got to stop that from happening.”

“Pronouncements of intent are all well and good, Lieutenant,” Terax grizzled. “But you’re going to need a plan and convince your captain and mine.”

Willow’s eyes shifted to Terax quickly, to quickly even. She studied him for a moment, then looked back out the window, then turned back, looking past Blake and Terax, eyes scanning the middle distance. Then she nodded once before taking a step and just disappeared into nothingness.

“Oh, crap.” Blake cursed a few times in rapid succession then slapped at her commbadge. “Pisani to the Bridge, we’ve got a problem!”