Bridge doesn’t need to be psychic to see the storm coming. The entire B-wing is practically a low pressure area. Even the girls feel it, and all three of them are long gone before it erupts. But Bridge is psychic, so he has a unique perspective on the history of the tempest once it has blown over.
It starts a cool, deceptively calm blue glow in his shared quarters. The cold so intense it burns a trail down to Jack’s room. Once there the icy color clashes ferociously with intense red heat. Blue now warms reminding Bridge of the blue of flame now instead of frost. All around the room the two colors dance and swirl, mixing faintly at the edges but still distinct.
Abruptly the blue pulls in on itself, becoming a steely periwinkle and eradicating all traces of the scarlet that had been purpling its edges. The rainy color drifts out the door and down the hall. Tumultuous maroon charges behind, and the maelstrom moves toward the lounge. Bridge follows the psychic trail.
Halfway there, the colors halt. A streak of midnight blue, like lightning, lances across the distance and strikes the other color. The red becomes briefly a subdued chestnut and then flares up brighter than before, pushing the blue lightning back. The lightning dances back and forth, gaining strength as it bounces between them.
With no warning, the red rushes at the blue, disappearing into it and then lighting it up from within. The merged cloud now burns bright purple. The color shifts from red-violet to blue-violet and back again with amazing ferocity. The colors swirl hotter and brighter, brighter and hotter until the intensity is so great that Bridge closes his physical eyes to block the psychic light. When the intensity fades, Bridge focuses more fully on the new mass. Warm and peaceful, it’s breathtakingly beautiful.
The alarms go off before Bridge can track down the source of the storm, but he’s not surprised when Jack and Sky walk into Command together a few minutes later. They appear calm and collected, but Bridge wonders what he would see with his gloves off. It’s probably better this way. Like any storm it’s stunning, dangerous, and best viewed from a distance.