Prompt: Rain, Fever, Forgotten Memories

It was midday when the dam finally burst, the swelling of interplanetary rain too strong to be held by the cracking reinforced concrete, a wave of destruction broadcast on every channel on the planet. Walls dismantled, institutions destroyed, and lives were lost as blood mingled with the overflowing currents, mixing with the oil and diesel of the destroyed factories. All the technology in the world and nature never stopped being the great equalizer.

As crowds gathered around the news-displaying vids in the bar, some horrified and some nonchalant, a new patron entered the threshold of the gathering, coming in from the desolate gray rain outside. Nova Rennata shook at the entrance, splaying raindrops far and wide, before stomping to the nearest seat without glancing about at the numerous glowing vids. She did not stand out among other patrons within the scrapyard town, dressing drably and reeking of gasoline. She placed payment on the counter within reach of the android bartender, claws clicking on the stone tabletop. 

It wasn't until the golden drink was delivered, and Nova thrust her long tongue into the bottom of it, that she finally glanced up at the destruction portrayed on the vids. However, she was not surprised at it, too morose at her own negative turns of luck to be swayed by industrial short-sightedness, one disaster in an ocean of planetary disasters as sentient beings reaped the consequences of unchecked resource depletion. What was more on her mind was how she was going pay off debts in the next couple of weeks. She scanned the patrons for the buyer she was supposed to meet here for a trade. Nova identified him and indicated she wanted to talk, as the other alien swaggered over after identifying the clan pin on her jacket identifying her as a merchant - a green leaf encircled by a planetary orbit.

"That last scrap metal brought me was defective - absolute piles of junk. And you vouched for their authenticity yourself didn't you? I certainly hope this newest batch lives up to your reputation."

The other bar patrons were now watching an election debate, quickly distracted from the disaster of the day. Nova did not look at the alien. "You can take it or leave it, it is what it is."

"Oh, really?" the alien sneered, then lowered his voice. "Then what's all this about those data-cores you sold to the ship mechanics last week? Heard you could only get those on the illegal market. Military-grade weapons designs, wasn't it? Top of the line?"

Nova tried not to react but cocked an ear in the alien's direction, and he knew then that he had her. She heard the patrons engaged in heated conversations over the latest election cycle.

He nonchalantly gestured across the bar. "And what's this? Police in for a drink as well? Shall we call them over and have a chat about those cores?"

Nova bared her teeth. "You fucker. You wouldn't dare."

He chuckled and placed the payment on the counter - a paltry amount. 

Unable to retract her snarl, Nova said, "Engines are locked up outside under my berth number. Take them, asshole." She slapped the lock key into his claws as he left on his way, confident he had the upper hand. The politician on the vid was reaching a fever pitch now, gesticulating wildly with its multiple limbs. Insectoid bar patrons were engaging in arguments with groups taking sides of the multiple competing parties.

It wouldn't be well until the next day before the buyer realized half the engines were filled with sand. "Idiot", Nova hissed under her breath, as she had predicted the swindle from the beginning. Now she would need to be far off this planet before the buyer discovered his problem. She would also have to remember not to visit this bar again for a while, since she had paid with fake coins, realistic enough to fool the android. Still, she had some time, so she finished imbibing the alcoholic nectar, needing to calming her nerves after that exchange. Nova had to make a conscious effort to lay the dark fur along her neck back down where it had bristled earlier. The arguments of the patrons were not making that easy.

The smaller, inner pair of her arms unconsciously fingered the gun at her belt as Nova thought about her next scrap haul. Unfortunately, other more successful groups had been outcompeting her at the junkyards for some time, laying claims to territories she had scavenged for years. Their access to new technology, new coalitions, new downright brute force had forced Nova to continually move around and pick off material from outsider groups. She felt the walls closing in.

The shattering of glass was her signal it was time to leave. The political cheering had devolved into brawling and fistfights, as it usually does, and one insect alien had broken a glass bottle over another, causing the rest to engage in an outright fist-fight. Nova startled and swore as a row of glass bottles crashed in front of her. She dodged iridescent wings and flying fists as she danced to the back of the bar to make a hasty retreat, but not before stealing an unfinished drink on her way out. 

Outside it was still raining, no help to the burst dam. Nova kicked boxes our of her way as she stepped through the alley, finishing the second drink with one hand while the others steadied her. She looked up and closed her eyes, now a bit woozy, feeling the rain soak into her fur for one moment of quiet, tossing the stolen glass into the trash. In the back alley of the bar, the mechanical hum of the city was dampened as she stood surrounded by sound-insulating piles of garbage among the metal gantries.

She felt the metal badge she wore with a primary hand and traced the outline of the leaf in the metal - a symbol of her clan's role in trade. Nova looked at the gray sky, pollution clouds from the south moving in.

She was making her way back to the cruiser when she heard voices down the alley, and ducked among the trash, unwilling to engage in another confrontation as she kept her ears pricked.

Two aliens, bearing military-grade arms. Not a good sign. There was not another soul around.

"...and that's all for the weapons deals. I suppose you can make it back to Aldebaran-1 yourself? We won't be making another arms shipment to the prime minister for a while now, to keep eyes off our tracks."

The other alien hefted their heavy gun across their shoulders. "That idiot Loeva and his band won' t know what's coming. The amount of ammunition we just ported was near-enough to nuke the whole city. I want off the planet by the time the bombs start falling. I'm getting too old for this, you know." Both continued down the alley, kicking scrap as they went.

When Nova finally moved again, she could feel the cool night air across her face. They had left. So, the party has insider information on a political opponent. She generally did not care for politics. But, in the right hands, this information could net her a hefty fortune. Might be time to make her way to the local embassy. Politicians would pay anything for something on their opponent.

Nova bent down to move a set of metal pipes out of her way. As she did, she uncovered a spot of color underneath that she didn't believe at first. Growing underneath the metal scraps was a flower. Tiny, it had uncurled from the barren soil and flourished here in the back alley of a bar in an industrial city. The delicate petals were red, a spot of blood in an otherwise grayscale landscape, and the green petioles beneath reached for the now-set sun. Nova considered it for a while, crouching. Then she sauntered into the alley, darkness and narrow walls enclosing on her shadow.