LtCmdr Jovenan – We’re all mad in here, aren’t we?
Jovenan
((Caves, Callis I))
The inhuman howl had echoed across the network of caves, fighting against the whistle of the wind and the skitter of the imaginary creatures Jovenan’s troubled mind had made to frighten her. Whatever it was, it was not a figment of imagination, as the others had heard it too, which made it much more dangerous to the team, even if she might not have felt like that at the time. “Dangerous” was a safe bet, too; it might have been a mere herbivore that was shy and as reluctant to meet the survivors as they were of it, but if it was not… Preparations for the worse made sense.
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.
Bergmen: ::unsure in voice, clutching a hatchet:: If you say so, Commander…
That was the second time Lt Bergmen had uttered those words, and each time, his appearance had only gained caution and fear. Jovenan didn’t know what else to say – it was most probably an animal of some sort, and they didn’t really have other means to fight or scare something off but fire as far as she saw it. Sure, they could pick up some rocks from the ground and try throwing them at whatever it was, but with their phasers inoperable and no materials for a black powder gun conveniently lying about, there wasn’t much else to do. Either way, she felt that she was failing as a leader, unable to keep her team in the condition to fight or to flee – their own willing and unshaken minds were the strongest weapons, after all. She wasn’t showing the best example in that.
Bancroft: ::thoughtfully:: I think our chemlights might serve the same defensive purpose as a flame. ::a beat:: They give us visibility, they’re unfamiliar, and they don’t burn or turn the air toxic if we guess wrong about what’s safe to ignite.
Well, yes, the chemlights did do all the things the Doctor said, but Jovenan would have still preferred fire. Fire had worked for her before. More importantly, fire actually did something more than the chemlights. If – if – the animals proved hostile and had even the slightest sliver of intelligence or predatory instinct, they might realise that the chemlights did little to burn them. Besides, fire would have kept the team warm, something crucial for their survival. Either way, it wasn’t too important right now, since they had neither fuel nor means to light a fire. The chemlights had to do, at least for now.
There was one issue with the chemlights, though: their pale, sickly colour warped the shadows to creatures that preyed on them. That would have happened with the light from fire as well, she was sure of that, but her experience with her imagination hadn’t ever been quite this bad. The cave, the darkness behind every corner, the diseased, unwholesome light, they were all full of not-people, watching them, lurking, speaking with tongues that had been cut off. She could only keep telling herself that they weren’t real, but when they watched her and prepared to jump from their hiding spots at the corner of her eye, she couldn’t close her eyes, close them off. She found it increasingly difficult to walk straight, as she felt like the racing heartbeat in her chest could rip apart the veins in her head if she continued.
And she didn’t. The improvised backpack made a clatter as it hit the rock as she fell to the floor. The creatures in the shadows were sure to hear that and see her weakness, her inability to defend herself or her colleagues, they were sure to take advantage of this moment. Yet, they weren’t real, but the other survivors were, so Jovenan had to force herself to formulate an excuse for what she was doing.
Jovenan: We’ve walked for a while. Let’s take a break.
She buried her face in her hands but didn’t cover her eyes, instead looking through her fingers, so that nothing could come to surprise her. They weren’t real, there were real issues she needed to concentrate on, think of survival, think of the team, think of Vitor and if he’s still alive somehow, if that keeps them away… She resisted against comforting herself by rocking herself on her spot, because she also knew that the trio of Lieutenants were surely watching her, and seeing their Commander breaking down was a poor sign of the team’s leadership. Instead, she straightened her back and withdrew her hands from the face, posing as if she was still somehow above the situation.
Jovenan: Doctor, check in on Bergmen again. K’Wara, take one of the… ::looks up, squints:: Are those claw marks?
There were indeed something carved into the ceiling of the cave. Maybe not claw markings as they had appeared first, judging by their appearance as she looked longer, but she didn’t know what else they would have been. Multiple, criss-crossing claw marks was the best she could come up with. She tilted her head to the side looking at it, momentarily finding release from her imagination, until a firm shout alerted of the events just next to her.
K’Wara: ::strict:: Lieutenant Bergmen, stand down.
Bancroft: ::softly:: Ollie. ::even, calm:: Easy. You’re not in trouble.
Jovenan turned to see what was happening. A being, one that could have been a person but whose skin’s tone was that of death and decay, armed, just near them, was preparing to strike from the shadows. She drew back. She gasped for air. Her heart skipped several beats. The creature stood immobile in the dim.
Bancroft: We’re still on the same team, buddy. And right now, the safest place for that thing is on the ground – just because I need both your hands steady while I examine you.
Only when Lt Bergmen lowered the hatched did she realise that it had been him and not a monster of the mind incarnated. It was better, although as she straightened herself again on the rock, she didn’t know how much better. He was breaking down too. The two other officers resolved the issue, but there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t do that again – or that she wouldn’t do something equally stupid.
They really were broken, weren’t they? One almost attacking his friends, other seeing things where there were none.
… They wouldn’t survive like this, wouldn’t they?
Bergmen: So, doctor, how does it look?
Lt K’Wara had removed Lt Bergmen’s hatchet and deposited it elsewhere. They were now investigating the markings in the ceiling, while the Doctor was conducting a medical on the other JayGee. Seeing that the others were in work, Jovenan stood up as well and stepped closer to the mysterious markings. She wasn’t exactly tall enough to study them close by, but in fairness, neither was Lt K’Wara – as proven by the fact that they were on their tiptoes.
Bancroft: Your body’s recovering remarkably well, buddy. No new red flags, and you’re healing far faster than I’d expected. It’s good news ::pausing for a wry smile:: with the caveat that we still shouldn’t push our luck, yeah? Does that help put your mind at ease?
Bergmen: Yeah, helped. ::nods, face less tense::
The chemlights shone their unhelpfully dim light to the carved markings. Jovenan frowned looking at them. If they had been claw markings as she had first thought, there would have probably been either surface level only or deeper in the middle and shallower where the claw would have surfaced. There were too… even. Most clawed animals also had multiple of them side by side, but these were singular lines.
Jovenan: They’re oddly clean for scratch marks…
The Doctor lifted his chemlight to – literally – shine more light to their puzzle. It helped massively, as the entirety came into the view and the edges became more defined. Those definitely weren’t made by claws randomly scratching the surface of the rock.
K’Wara: They are scratch marks... But, I think they’re manmade? Maybe a chisel or a knife of some sort.
The Doctor brought their light even closer. The fact that there might have been anything made by the hands of an intelligent species was shocking. Jovenan pressed her lips together. Were they not the first people to crash-land there? Were the creators of these markings ever rescued? Or were they the residents of this world? Where were they now?
Bancroft: ::musing:: Good eye, Lieutenant. I think you’re right. That’s more consistent with tooling than, say, a claw. No tearing, no drag marks… ::a beat:: no place where something lost purchase and gouged deeper, for example.
Bergmen: Response
Jovenan: If it’s made by someone intelligent, it must mean something. ::squints:: But I don’t recognise what it could be. The markings don’t look like any writing system I know.
Which was… not a lot. There were millions and millions of languages across the Federation and an uncountable number of more outside of it, and she only spoke her native Somian dialect of Rubicun Edo and the Federation Standard – which, as the universal translator didn’t appear to work either, she had been keeping up with some mental exhaustion. She knew some Betazoid, but besides that, the different writing systems were only something that she had seen but never learnt. And those markings didn’t resemble anything she had even seen.
K’Wara: Well, I can’t see them properly in this light, but ::trails the etchings with a finger:: If I didn’t know better, I’d say we’re looking at a sketch of some sort? Or at least a partial of one?
Bancroft: Which tells us two things. One, this place has been occupied before. ::a pause:: And two – maybe good news for us – whoever or whatever did this had the uninterrupted time to do it.
Jovenan waggled her finger pointing at the Doctor without loosing her sight from the markings, the way she had seen professors do when a student said something clever but the thing they were looking at interested the teacher more than their educational duties. It was an insightful notion too: not just trying to interpret the message, but interpreting the meaning.
Whoever wrote it must have had shelter, water and food – or something else to satisfy their biological needs long enough – and that they weren’t killed off by other dangers of the world. Which meant, they might find something similar as well.
Jovenan: It also takes a lot of effort to draw something like that. It would be something that they thought important enough of that effort, especially in these conditions.
Bergmen: Response
K’Wara: It may be a map, although I can’t make heads or tails of it. There’s not exactly a helpful ‘you are here’ point that I can see, and I think exposure to the wind circulation in here may have eroded parts of it.
Bancroft: ::contemplative:: Maybe… though it’s like no map I’ve ever seen before. Not that that means much. ::turning to Bergmen and Jovenan:: Ollie, Commander?
The Doctor lowered the chemlights. Jovenan inhaled deep. If it was a map and they could interpret it, they might be able to find resources easier and avoid pitfalls and other hazards. Sadly, there didn’t seem to be any luck.
Jovenan: A map is a good guess. If the interior of the caves is as winding as the exterior suggested, then there was a high chance of getting lost. A resident of these tunnels might have wanted to mark the paths somehow.
Bergmen/K’Wara: Response
Bancroft: Either way, whoever made this expected someone else to come along eventually – even if they didn’t expect it to be us.
Jovenan nodded. Focusing on a puzzle was a relief to her mind, although she didn’t realise it herself at the moment.
Jovenan: That seems possible. If they had been just leaving markers for themselves while exploring the caves, I don’t think they would have made a map like this instead of just a few words or symbols. ::looks at others:: Like we should write the word “out” or make an arrow, marking this tunnel if we come to a crossroads so that we can leave eventually.
Bergmen/K’Wara: Response
Bancroft: Might explain why it doesn’t seem to bother to tell you where you are, though. Maybe it assumes that if you can read it, you already know.
Leaving the markings for now, Jovenan stepped back to where she had left her backpack and pulled out a jug of water. Opening it, she looked at her fellow survivors.
Jovenan: If we find more of them, we might come closer to interpreting them. We need to keep eyes open for them. But we can’t do that if we’re dehydrated. Take a gulp, everyone, but remember that the rations need to suffice until we find more.
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
The water, even the small amount she gulped, was a blessing. It was difficult to appreciate these kinds of small things when there was plenty of everything. Still, Jovenan wouldn’t have exchanged her soft bed, food replicator and the small light in the corner of her sleeping area that kept the harshest shadows away at night for any of the blissful moments of satisfying intense thirst or hunger or exhaustion in the awful conditions such as these.
Jovenan: Are we ready to resume? We can rest for longer if needed, but that’s away from finding resources.
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
After everyone was ready, Jovenan picked up the backpack and continued walking with the team. The map kept puzzling her. What did it mean? If they found more, would they be able to fit the pieces together and get a complete picture? Where were the people who made it… not still inside the cave, surely? There was no way to tell how old they were, anything from a few days to decades or even centuries, perhaps, depending on the intensity of the erosion.
As predicted – or rather, guessed – they found their first crossroads soon. The tunnel they had been following continued onwards, but another tunnel crossed it at an angle so that it sloped downwards from their right to left. Walking to the middle where the two tunnels met and stopping there, Jovenan first turned upwards to the right, where the other tunnel carried on until the chemlights didn’t reveal the end. She turned then to look in the opposite direction, downwards, where the tunnel branched just some dozens of metres away. As she looked down there, to the other tunnels that departed from the sloping tunnel
something
walked across it from side to side.
Jovenan: Toia majulan!
The high-pitched cry for the god to help slipped from her in her native language. She walked backwards, colliding with her fellow survivors and almost falling to the floor again. Her arms and hands were looking for something to take support from or to hide behind.
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response?
Pushing against her foggy mind and racing heart, Jovenan steadied herself and stood up. She didn’t turn her eyes away from the other tunnel at first, but eventually looked at each of her teammates. Whatever she had seen – or imagined she had seen – was long gone.
Jovenan: Sorry. I- I thought I saw something in there. ::looks back:: It’s nothing. My mind’s… Let’s mark the way out. Any ideas which way to follow?
Bergmen/K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
----
Lieutenant Commander Jovenan
Chief Science Officer
USS Artemis-A
E239911J11