Horizons: Between Worlds, Part 1

Planet Vortex, a refugee settlement
The winds were calling his name again. He hated that. Whooshing and swooshing and howling and screaming. It was always so loud, and not just in his ears. The stabbing in his head was the worst part. His mother could stuff his ears with cloth scraps, and his father could shutter the windows and bolt the door...but nothing could be done for the pain inside. Shee...eene. Nee...eakiir...iinshee...eene. Why did he have a name that the stupid wind could say so well!? And why wouldn't it leave him alone!? _____________________________________________________________________________________ Under a low, domed roof, a little boy curled in pain from another migraine as the atmosphere of his home world shifted. The planet Vortex was a galactic oddity, simultaneously hospitable and unforgiving. During the planetary system's formation, the hunk of metals and earth that would become Vortex suffered a cataclysmic impact event. The young planet's axis of rotation acquired an extreme angle, nearly parallel to the plane of its orbit. As seasons changed and Vortex traveled through its 421-day-long year, the north pole would point almost directly at the sun, and then the south. Global winds were swift and relentless, driven by the angled rotation and odd exposures to the sun's rays. Vast polar ice caps formed or melted in a matter of hours, depending on which pole was facing the sun throughout the year. This process was aided by exotic, thermally sensitive gases high in the planet's atmosphere.

Otherwise, the world was a pleasant one. Half dry land and half covered in water, Vortex boasted tree-covered mountain ranges, grasslands hundreds of thousands of square kilometers across, and fertile rolling hills for farming and grazing animals. The native sentient species, the Vor, had evolved to be capable of harnessing everything the planet had to offer. They were reptilian and hairless, with thin, hollow bones and leathery wings not capable of true flight, but more than able to glide effortlessly on the violent winds of their home. There were no technological cities or towers to the stars because the Vor were a simple people, mostly emotionless, logical beings thanks to their lizard-like neurology, and content with their place in the galaxy. The planet had a single spaceport that had been built in one of the few places stable enough to allow extra-planetary landings and launches from the tilted planet.

Given its 'simple' reputation and general lack of interest from the more advanced galactic community, Vortex was an attractive goal for refugees. Few could make the trip, though. The Vor were protective of their homeworld. Smuggling was not a profitable venture and harshly punished if discovered. But for the lucky few who could find the means and permissions, it was a safe haven. The Sheene family were humans who had run from persecution centuries ago for a forgotten reason. They'd done well: a small farm, connections with local stores and government food storage, and the respect of the refugee community. They'd married with other humans and the odd Mirialan or two. Then, after generations of healthy children, a baby boy had been born into chronic pain. Every time the wind would pick up, he would hold his head and moan until the weather subsided. The few refugees with medical experience couldn't agree on a diagnosis, and what Vor medicines they had had little to no effect. And so, little Neakiirin Sheene had lived his short life in fear of gently wafting grass and swift clouds on the horizon.

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I'll show that stupid wind who's boss. His hands flitted about, quickly but methodically. He had to get it right this time.