LtCmdr Jovenan – We’re in a dark cave. Guess what my two phobias are.
Jovenan
((A windswept plateau, Callis I))
The service in Starfleet had been a constant struggle for survival. Jovenan had fought against the Borg and the Orion Syndicate, she had taken a shrapnel to her shoulder when a subordinate had stepped on a landmine, she had been held at gunpoint, threatened with a sword, shot at, only god and the service records remembered what else. The enemies of the Federation and those who were her opponents due to the circumstance had so often found her, and on few occasions, she had sought them as well; it was her duty to take blows and to strike when it was to protect those that were entrusted to her or her Captain’s care. She didn’t pretend that she hadn’t been scared or that she hadn’t relied on others, but she had learnt, over time, how to stand still and think when staring down the muzzle of a weapon.
But when the enemy was not a person nor a sapient entity, that experience was of little use. The nature itself as the opponent was neither cruel nor lenient; it didn’t care. It wasn’t really the nature that was their enemy, it was themselves and the scarcity of their resources. Their most important tools were their wits, which they sure had, but at the same time, Jovenan wondered if any of her fellow survivors had actually taken an additional wilderness course in the Academy either.
Jovenan: Empty the medkits, engineering kits and such of non-working equipment. We can use them for carrying other things, like the rations. Take as much you think you’re able to carry without exhausting yourselves. We can probably come back here eventually, but let’s assume it won’t happen until the morning.
Bergmen: On it, ma’am.
Bancroft: Hydration will be key. As we’re collecting gear, keep in mind a minimum of three liters of water per person. If we can’t make it back here tomorrow, that’ll give us about 36 hours to find a new freshwater source.
Jovenan nodded. It was a delicate balancing act, since they couldn’t carry everything but they also couldn’t leave behind anything they needed for survival. If they didn’t find water, food, shelter and a heat source, all they had was in the pod, and they’d need to come back for it after exhausting everything they had. But if they wandered off too far or suffered worse injuries on their way, they wouldn’t be able to do that either. Jovenan shook her head. It was better not to concentrate on that too much right now, or she’d be forced to acknowledge that they didn’t have a way out anyway, and that her friends, colleagues and loved ones may have all already perished.
Working helped to keep undesired thoughts at bay. She managed to fashion the kits, the harnesses and some optic cable into additional backpacks, which would help her carry more than just by holding the cases by handles. There wasn’t much space for anything but the absolute necessities; no tricorder, no lifesaving equipment that didn’t work, nothing too heavy to carry. Filling her packs and strapping whatever else she could to her body, Jovenan couldn’t help but bite her teeth tight together and think how much useless junk Starfleet had prepared for them in the escape pods. Humanoids required very little to survive at the minimum, but it felt like a lot when faced with the less than that.
When they were done, Jovenan tried out the whole weight of her cargo and stepped out from the stale air of the buckled pod into the harsh wind. She’d be able to carry it for now, even in this gravity, but the question was if they’d find a camping site before they’d collapse, be forced to lighten their loads or be overtaken by something that made their journey much more difficult.
Jovenan: There’s probably a cave in that cliff. ::looks up, then back down, drags foot on the ground:: Help me draw an arrow. Then I think we’re ready to get moving.
Bergmen: ::looking around:: At least we don't suffer from a lack of stone to make one…
Good. Stones would remain visible longer than any shape drawn to the dirt. While they were creating a signal of their survival and their destination for any hypothetical rescue parties, Lt K’Wara stepped back towards the pod.
K’Wara: I’ll get the pod sealed back up, at least temporarily. Don’t want any unwelcome guests.
Bancroft: Good point. We may not be the only scavengers out here.
Totally. Just because they didn’t see any animals, that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Besides, there was a chance of rain. It would help them in gathering water – assuming the rain here was drinkable and not, say, glass shards like a few peculiar otherwise habitable planets out there – but it might also flood the pod and make it and everything stored there unusable.
When the arrow was sufficiently visible, Jovenan raised her eyes towards their objective. The cliff was the sole easily identifiable landmark for as far as her eyes could see, besides the crater left by the pod. It was their only hope; if there weren’t what they were seeking for, they’d have very little chances in surviving until the rescue would come – if it came at all. She had a deep breath in, filling her lungs with the air with a metallic taste to it. What else could they do but to keep pretending they’re going to survive?
Bergmen: Does anyone know the length of planetary rotation for this rock? How much daylight do you think we have?
Bancroft: Not a clue. Commander? Any planetary science tricks you have up your sleeve that might help?
Sigh. It would be easier if she knew anything about the planet – absolutely anything. She could estimate some factors from where they stood, the angle of the sun, the rough size of the planet by the gravity assuming standard composition, the planet not being tidally locked from the climatological factors, but not much else. Some planets took decades before the sun set, some took hours. Heck, most worlds had poles with months of daylight or night at a time. She shook her head.
Jovenan: The best I can do is to say that the sun appears to be a few degrees lower than when I first looked out. So… some hours. ::pause, shrug:: Better keep making observations, and we can do a better guess later.
K’Wara: I think the storm is our most immediate concern... We don’t know what a good thunderstorm looks like on this planet, so best if we’re well in shelter by the time it gets here.
Great.
Lt Bergmen appointed himself to take the point. Jovenan supposed it worked out the best, not because she would have wanted to sacrifice him to whatever unexpected traps and pitfalls that may be on their way, but because, by the Doctor’s evaluation, he appeared to have been taken the worst bump and was therefore the most vulnerable of them. If he collapsed, they’d notice; if his state deteriorated, they’d move slower. If he had any sense in him, he wouldn’t overexert himself but choose the pace that suited him and his injuries, and so, the rest of them wouldn’t be pushing him to go faster compared to the state where someone lead them.
Bergmen: At least the visibility is good, hm? (beat) And we will see anything coming in advance.
K’Wara: The Karnack’s database didn’t say anything about any civilizations in the Callis system, and there were no entries in the Flight Risk Index for this area of space... ::grumbles with exertion:: Which must mean the Maelstrom isn’t always this volatile to passing vessels.
Bancroft: ::dryly:: In retrospect, maybe I should have bought one of those Ferengi lottery entries.
Jovenan pulled her backpack higher by the straps. The makeshift carrier wasn’t exactly ergonomically optimised to her back. A horizontal band across the chest would have done miracles to how the weight was distributed to her body. However, beggars couldn’t be choosers, as she had heard a human saying went, one from a truly cruel portion of the planet’s history.
Jovenan: We don’t know enough about the Maelstrom. Many spatial phenomena like that fluctuate… some faster than the others.
Bergmen: Response
K’Wara: Could mean it’s a temporary danger. Other Ships coming into the system may not be affected like the Karnack was.
Bancroft: A newer ship – or, at least, one not already prepared for the scrapyard – might also be a bit more robust against the effects of the Maelstrom.
Jovenan: I’m sure they’ll get to us. ::attempt of a smirk:: Starfleet won’t leave a flag officer of theirs behind without at least trying first.
She didn’t know how much she believed herself. It was true, Starfleet knew approximately their destination, and if the Maelstrom fluctuated and if the newer ships could endure it, then a ship or two would come. However, whether that happened before their resources ran out was a whole another question. Honest pessimism was however not what the team needed. They were going to be rescued. Starfleet was already coming. Just say that to yourself until you believed it.
Bergmen: Response
They resumed in silence. Jovenan prided herself as a good long distance runner – there might have been some species-specific advantage there – but she usually did that with little weight on her. The backpack and other equipment with her made the journey much more challenging to her than just doing so in an Edo romper and nothing else. She felt the improvised straps press against her skin through the uniform and weight against her shoulders. She might have broken her own order by taking more than she could bear, but since some of her teammates were more severely injured, it was only fair that she took at least as much as the others despite her smaller stature.
As the distance to the cliff grew shorter, more details became apparent. Jovenan had been correct about the porosity of the rock, but the topology still puzzled her. The cliff was steep, rising almost vertically from the ground, like a fault. In the large scale, it was also remarkably smooth, further supporting the hypothesis of its origin as a planar fracture, with the notable exception of the several holes in its face. Round, fractured, torn, smooth, rough edged, small, humanoid-sized, a dozen metres wide, there didn’t seem to be any clear pattern to them. Already a geological curiosity, Jovenan’s attention was further drawn by the sound: as wind blew through the openings, it was accompanied by an inhuman wail. It was not like the “singing” formations that had since become tourist attractions, quite the opposite, actually; Jovenan couldn’t believe anyone but the most devoted geologists to come see something so unnerving.
K’Wara: This is... ::looks around with curiosity:: Are those natural? There’s so many of them.
Bancroft: And the sound they make… it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard.
Jovenan: They… They’re probably natural. The wind, together with dust and rain water, probably has carved the cave where the rock has been softer. The sound is just wind blowing through the holes and the channels connecting them. Just a coincidence, I’m sure. ::pause:: Now, which of these is our hole?
Bergmen/K’Wara: Response
As the wind grew stronger, they stood before one of the larger openings to the caves – or network of caves, however it was. Jovenan struggled now to keep her hair from constantly getting to her face, and she clearly noticed how much harder it was to stand straight. The gales were quickly strengthening and approaching storm levels.
Bancroft: Anyone else feel that? Air pressure’s shifting. Whatever’s coming, it’s very close now.
Jovenan: Right. We’re better off in the cave than out in the open, especially if we find a spot that’s shielded from the wind. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a spring or a reservoir of rain water. ::deep breath:: Let’s go.
Bergmen/K’Wara: Response
They walked in. The wind continued to push them from behind, but squeezing between the walls of the cave, its strength diminished significantly. However, the sound vanished nowhere, and instead it engulfed them, vibrating from the erosion carved rock faces around them. The wail was only accompanied by the echo of their footsteps from further in the cave, weakening and shortening at every delayed repeat until a new sound of boot hitting the rock recreated the sound.
The last rays of the sunlight followed them in deep as the fractures in the face of the cliff caught them unevenly, but eventually, the natural light all died out. The chemlights coloured the walls in the sickly tones, flickering for no particular reason, and drew shadows at every bent, arch and hollow. Jovenan’s eyes flicked at each blind spot and dark corner, until she saw them. She saw the figures, lurking, ready to bounce from their hidings. Their surroundings were making it worse for her: she was already trying not to overanalyse each of her step in the cave, and at the same time, she tried to ignore the things she imagined – except, there was a howl that wasn’t part of the typical tricks of her mind. She stopped and perked up as the unearthly cry shook her from within.
Bancroft: ::softly:: That… wasn’t the wind, was it?
She looked at her fellow survivors. In the chemlight, their faces were distorted by the shadows and the infirm colours. The image made her feel worse, but her attention was temporarily to the scream she had heard. They had heard; it was not something she had imagined, right?
Jovenan: You heard it too?
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
Jovenan: It’s, uh, possible there might be animals living in these caves. Look for signs of them, like nests, bones, objects that look like they’ve been carried here. We might want to hurry with finding something to set light to; cave-dwellers are usually sensitive to light, and animals often fear fire.
She remembered the cave they had taken shelter in on Ura Neteos. It had been guarded by a large scorpion-like creature that they managed to banish by intimidating it with torches they lit with phasers. Sadly, they didn’t have a jungle worth of sticks lying around this time, nor phasers, and the cave seemed quite a lot bigger.
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
The small team carried on. The opening seemed a distant memory now, but they had yet to stumble upon water, and the wind somehow still pushed on. Jovenan tried to think if they should just settle here, just accept that there isn’t water in here, not to mention food, but she was afraid that if they stopped and slept, they’d be surrounded. After all, she saw them again.
They were silhouettes, shaped like what could have been people but ultimately ill-formed and without a form, they were bright but soulless eyes in the dark. Her heart’s race began anew, and she felt it more difficult to move her legs without swaying from side to side. The others didn’t notice them, of course not, they were in her head like every single time this had happened, in Peace of Ellet, the Meirashi stronghold, every single time she stepped to somewhere dark since that day – and yet, she was afraid to close her eyes and imagine them gone, because then she wouldn’t see them get her. They were looking at her, they spoke words of death and assimilation, they skittered, drawing her attention but becoming obscure or mere motion in the dark when her gaze landed on them.
She dropped down to sit on the floor. The weight of the backpack vanished immediately as it was now supported by the ground instead of just her shoulders. She forced a few words out of herself.
Jovenan: We’ve walked for a while. Let’s take a break.
Covering her face with her hands, she tried to steady her rapid breath, but she didn’t close her eyes and instead remained alert by looking past her fingers. The team was still there. She couldn’t stop, she didn’t allow herself to cease to be the leader. She withdrew her hands and sat straight.
Jovenan: Doctor, check in on Bergmen again. K’Wara, take one of the… ::looks up, squints:: Are those claw marks?
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
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Lieutenant Commander Jovenan
Chief Science Officer
USS Artemis-A
E239911J11