Lieutenant Lena Josett - Strange, New... Trees?
Quinn Reynolds
((Caves, Rogue Planet))
The rumbling eased, the dragon in the belly of the world finally going back to sleep. An exhale of relief began to slip past her lips; one she quickly transformed into a soft chuckle to mask the churn in her gut. Her throat dry, she shone the torch around, and the beam disappeared into a vast crack in the ceiling. It ran the length of the tunnel, or at least as far as the torchlight could reach.
Josett: Fantastic. ::She grinned, belying the dread rumbling beneath.:: Any more of that, and the cave system could collapse.
Kelley: The caves—they’ve never done this before.
Much like Lena, Kelley smiled, though there was a note of relief to it that the older hybrid didn’t feel. While “not dead now” was usually more than enough for Lena, she couldn’t escape the physical feeling of oppression bearing down on her. Her grip tightened on the flashlight, knuckles whitening, the metal easily able to resist her grip.
Fortune: Not a good sight, no…
Kelley: We’ll celebrate these small victories by dining on years-old ration bars. I think there’s some kanar in an upcoming crate.
A joke from their resident sourpuss. Bear exhaled a curt, gravelly chuckle, contrasting with Corliss’ much lighter and effervescent laugh. Lena joined in, because it would look odd if she didn’t—that was who she was, the carefree joker—and if you laughed often enough, sometimes you even believed it.
Fortune: Hey now, we’re on the run! Why not break out the month-old ration bars then?
O. Marshall: I hate to say we've had worse, ::he swallowed, remembering a Ketar V sandwich he'd rather forget,:: but we've had worse.
Josett: ::She chuckled.:: Years-old ration bars are practically fine dining compared to some things we’ve eaten.
The moment of levity passed, the reality of their situation pushed back into centre stage. Kelley’s tricorder trilled, and the young woman consulted the screen, gesturing ahead of them. Her movements weren’t sharp or jerky, no sign of alarm. Information, rather than a warning, then.
Kelley: The… scans… have detected a small chamber right up here.
Fortune: That’s good. Let’s go for that.
Corliss cast a look back into the pools of darkness behind them, where the barrier they had lowered had long since passed out of sight. Perhaps a brief mental expedition, to see if the Jem’Hadar had indeed held off entering the quaking tunnels, or pressed on with their brainwashed determination. Much like Kelley, she showed no sense of panic or concern, and Lena took it that their head start remained healthy.
The younger hybrid took the lead, heading toward the chamber she’d found. Bear remained at the back, his shoulder frequently hosting his chin as he kept a careful watch on their trail.
Kelley: At least the device appears to be working. I admit, I had my doubts—I’ve not used one of these before. I’ve been tracking our progress to the information that it has collected, and all the twists and turns have been accurate. When we find an exit point, would it be able to reach out with its scans to ensure that tachyons and chronitons, or whatever they are called—aren’t present so we don’t walk into another time cloud or whatever? Will its reach stretch out?
Josett: About a hundred metres, in these conditions.
Whether it was those words, or lightning flash from the Great Beyond, something sparked a bolt of inspiration in their young guide. Kelley’s eyes widened, and she turned toward them.
Kelley: Your blue friend, the tall one with the antennas. ::She gulped.:: Perhaps she fell through time, too. People have disappeared before.
Corliss blinked, her dark eyes shining in the torchlight, and Bear’s blond brows once again corralled into a frown. The faintest wash of pink appeared on the skin underneath his beard, barely noticeable in the gloom.
Fortune: They just… fall through time?
O. Marshall: You should've said that instead of "I don't know, put me down". Spit time-bending possibilities at scientists and they go nuts for it. Learn your audience.
For a second, it appeared tensions were about to enflame between Bear and Kelley once again. The younger hybrid sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, shoulders squaring, her lips parting. In any other situation, Lena would have revelled in the igniting chaos. But not here, not now, and when Corliss quickly stepped in to mediate, her gratitude was immense. She’d have to take the Betazoid out for a night on the town when this was all over... assuming they both survived.
Fortune: But, she was with us, not close to the chronitons. They were behind us… unless it just manages to pluck people at will?
O. Marshall: Or something else does. Teleporters do exactly that, only they don't freeze you in time just before they rip you apart at your atomic level.
Josett: Ours don’t. ::She canted her head to the side, curls swaying, momentarily intrigued by an idea.:: But it would be an interesting way to get around the Uncertainty Principle.
The tunnel opened up into the chamber Kelley had found. Small wasn’t a strong enough adjective for how cramped the space was, and Lena felt every muscle in her shoulders and neck seize up in protest, priming to bolt for freedom.
She rolled her shoulder, forcing the tension out to partial success. Crates formed a metal tower in a corner, covered in grey dust and speckled with fingerprints. Another passage led out, even deeper into the underground. Lena had expected nothing else, and yet somehow seeing it sent the serpents writhing in her stomach once again.
All the while, the cave continued to spit dust and pebbles at them, the earth deep below still breathing out the occasional growl. If someone had delved into the darkest corners of her psyche and looked for what scenario would scare her the most, this wouldn’t be far off. All that was missing was a certain Bajoran, and the nightmare would be complete.
O. Marshall: Battlefield caves, I imagine. ::He gently kicked a crate with the side of his boot.:: Cardassian symbols on here, supplies inside. If this place was safe enough, it was probably a command post. Plan the action from here and not be in the thick of it on top. Too bad it's not an armoured vehicle and a dozen shield emitters.
Fortune: Cross our fingers, perhaps we’ll find it buried somewhere among all this.
Another grumble from the deep earth, but this one crescendoed into a roar. Bear threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against the cave wall. With her teeth clattering together, bones rattling under muscle and sinew, she followed her husband’s gaze. There, tearing a path through the cavern ceiling, was the fissure they’d seen earlier.
With a small shower of dust and stone, a third source of light appeared in the chamber. A tree root, glowing with a pale blue-green light, poked through the fissure.
Fortune: …I didn’t hit my head but anyone else see the glowing root above us?
O. Marshall: That tentacle-looking thing is a tree root?
Josett: You’re the Ranger—::she grinned at him::—you tell me.
Fortune: Fascinating. Does-wait, does this mean we’re under the forest now?
O. Marshall: It would make sense, given how far we've travelled under here. ::He peered up at it, eyes narrowing, face unbelieving.:: It doesn't look like one of the forest trees, though.
Disbelief reigned on Lena’s face as the root then moved. Not a shift because of the ongoing rumbling, or falling further because of dislodging rocks, but an intentional movement, seeking the light. Now more of the root was visible, she could see it didn’t have a uniform glow, but a swirling, flowing pulse. Like a Class-9 warp core. Or a bio-neural gel pack.
Fortune: I think we should just… keep going. And hope it doesn't touch us.
O. Marshall: Slowly. It might be… watching…
Josett: ::Her mind elsewhere, she mumbled,:: ...yeah.
Leaving the suspicious neon tree root behind, the small band of potholers pushed forward, leaving the rocky alcove behind and heading deeper still. Bear inhaled a deep breath, a moment before he looked toward Lena, his nose wrinkled and brow creased. Bemused, she looked back at him, until the reason for his confusion hit the back of her throat. A musty, ashen taste—or smell, she couldn’t tell—dancing on the edges of familiarity. She shook her head, not quite able to place it.
While it niggled in the back of her memories, they pressed on. Cool light filtered through the darkness ahead, and as the confining walls of the tunnel opened up, they could see more of the bioluminescent roots. Running just beneath the surface, and pushing through to create pools of organic light in the dark stone. The further they went, the more roots there were, crawling across the ceiling and walls, until the whole passage glowed in cyan light. Energy almost physically crackled through the air, and for a second, Lena swore she heard whispers.
But that thought vanished when the tunnel opened up into a vast cavern. In the centre, a spiralling, ancient tree spread its sickly, twisted branches. Bear’s flashlight traced along the wide, tangled trunk, which disappeared into the distant roof of the cave. The tallest tree Lena had ever seen—although that might not be saying much for an urban street rat. While Bear’s voice echoed in the open space, Lena looked back the way they came, at the glowing roots filled with light, snaking out like optic cables. Her eyes narrowed in thought. Was it more than just a resemblance?
O. Marshall: The hell is this place?
Josett: This is going to sound weird, but it reminds me of a computer core. ::She shone her flashlight on some of the unhealthy branches.:: One that needs debugging.
Alieth/O. Marshall/Fortune/Kelley: Response.
Each step carefully planted, half-expecting the roots to seize her leg at any moment, Lena moved forward. There was a definite pulse to the atmosphere, an electric spice which danced on the very edge of her senses. The whispers again, but just for a moment, like manually tuning for subspace frequencies and flicking past a transmission.
Josett: Who knows what it controls. The forest, the weather, whatever piece of tech that keeps rattling our bones...
Alieth/O. Marshall/Fortune/Kelley: Response
As her torchlight swept across the wood of the tree’s trunk, something glittered. Like the magpies of earth—a bird some former associates had once likened her to, and the nickname still stuck in certain parts—Lena’s eye was immediately drawn to it. Opalescent circles of pearl, cerulean and lilac. Beautiful, but too perfect to be natural. Leaning a little closer, she could see the ragged edge of wood, torn and chewed up. Drill holes.
Josett: It looks like someone took a sample. ::She shone the torch down, along the roots, circles spotting the tree like polka dots.:: Lots of them. Could this be what’s making the tree sick?
Alieth/O. Marshall/Fortune/Kelley: Response
--
Intelligence Officer
USS Gorkon
simmed by
Commanding Officer
USS Gorkon
T238401QR0