Jugtuk - A Few of My Favourite Things
Doz Finch
((The Gallery, Gibaria Outpost))
Butterflies. Waterfalls. Four-eared rabbits. A vase of dandelions from the fields of Norix. Melted butter on a Brikarian slab of toast. Sunrise, not an artificial sunrise but a real one, in an ascending blend of taffy and orange, warm on rocky skin. Jugtuk stood there in the viewing box thinking of all of the things that made him feel happy. That made him feel safe. That made him feel anywhere other than in a facility overrun by sentient climbers and dreadful creatures.
Comfortable shoes. Raspberry soda. Newly replicated scalpels. A clean microscope. The odd shapes of certain fungi, like Xylaria polymorpha. Clathrus archeri. A Chantarelle trumpet. Thinking about all of his favourite things, a smile tip-toed onto his angular features as he recalled a discovery he had made during his first foray into mycology. A new species of mushroom had sprouted up and out from the corpse of a beetle, elegant with its white sheen and violet stripes. It was so lovely to look at, and its nature, he believed, a bit misunderstood.
Rablin: There’s people down there, Jugtuk!
Jugtuk: Near the Gate? Ar…are you sure, San? It…it might b-b-be the voices again.
A bike ride along the Brikarian lakes of Chenoth. A picnic with his cousin Keron. The earthy smell of hot stones in a heatwave. San had been hearing things, seeing things. He felt awful about it, because he couldn’t help her. Maybe it was happening again.
Rablin: ::A whisper:: Ohmyohmyohmy. It is! They’re real and they’re down there. I’m not hallucinating this time, look!
Jugtuk squeezed his lithic hands into balls, and nervously leaned forward to peek into the Gateway Room. Slimy vines and their scandent trails webbed across much of the outer surface of the glass, but he could still see most of the inside of the circular room beyond them. There below, he could see a trio of people he didn’t recognise. All human by the looks of it.
An older woman with white hair and a short frame had her hands gripped onto a belt teeming with tools. Another woman next to her with cropped dark hair, was looking inside a hatch that would lead them upstairs. The third person was younger like Jugtuk. He was doing the talking, and whatever he was saying, it seemed to worry the other two women with him. What could Jugtuk do? Were they even real? Was he hallucinating now, too? He was so nervous.
The Brikarian research assistant shakily reached for and almost dropped the gooseneck microphone in front of him.
Jugtuk: Hello? Are…are you here to help us? I’m…I’m in the gallery. Uh...up above.
Rablin: ::Quietly.:: We are in the gallery!
Jugtuk: Ah, uh, I’m sorry, San, I…I panicked. Uhh we —
The Kobliad woman snatched the speaking device from him before he could press the button to correct himself, and pushed it off to the side, her eyes bulging with fear. A globule of sweat slugged its way along the bony ridge of her forehead and nose, and she tucked a bushy tuft of black hair behind her ear as if to try to manage the anxiety coursing through her. She wasn't succeeding.
Rablin: What do we do? What do we do? What. Do. We. Do?
Jugtuk: I think they’re Starfleet. They must have received my distress call, and…and they’re here to help us. To…contain the gate.
Rablin: Contain it? Are you sure? ::She turned to the window, then back again.:: It doesn’t look very contained. ::She paused.:: They might be upset with us. They might want to blame us. Worse yet, they might think that we’re one of them!
Whipped cream. Long walks. Stargazing. Spending time with friends. Finishing a paper. Listening to a symphony. Cute animals, like little birds. Climbing trees. Or at least, daydreaming about climbing trees. His kind were not really built for it. Delightful thoughts. Joyful memories. Anything other than — suddenly there was a knock on the door. San snapped her head towards it, and made a slow approach. Jugtuk felt himself retreating towards a wall, as if that would hide him.
Then she opened it, and there they were.
Rablin: Pleasedon’tshootIpromiseI’mnotoneofthemI’vebeenstuckinhereforeverI’mafriendIswear.
Espinoza: Hey, please - pl - please calm do- - ::he tries to interject through the endless stream of panic and wailing:: Stop, stop. We’re here to help.
As San’s cyclone slowed down, Jugtuk inched forward, his heavy steps enough to rumble the floors a little bit. His fingers kneaded together, a form of self-soothing, as he tried his best to smile at the new arrivals, even if his upturned stony brows betrayed him. His bright eyes looked at each of their shoulders, their heads, their mouths. No bobbing or vacant eyes. No horrifying wriggling tendrils. Not a controlling climber in sight. Such a relief.
Jugtuk: Did...did you receive my distress call?
Neathler / Espinoza: Response
Something new to feel happy about…people! Good people, maybe. Here to help Gibaria Outpost. Here to help them fix the mess. Here to help them not…become like the others. He needed to introduce himself, and San, and tell them everything he knew. If his wobbling voice allowed it.
Jugtuk: I’m…uh…I’m…I’m Jugtuk and th-this is San. I'm ha-happy you're here.
Finch: Hello Jugtuk, and hello San. ::She stepped in, cheeks rosy.:: I’m Lieutenant Commander Finch and this is my team: Lieutenant Commander Neathler and Mister Espinoza.
Neathler / Espinoza: Response