JDL | "Buried Alive" Part One | CSec, CSci, COO, HNO | LtCmdr Caldwell, LtJG Roswell, Ens deLaar, Ens Locke

Posted on Thu Mar 27th, 2014 @ 8:52pm by Lieutenant JG Saia Roswell & Ensign Markus Locke & Ensign Sina deLaar

1,596 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: In the Dark
Location: Noturan Wilds

=/\= Noturan Wilds =/\=

A fine breeze gently caressed the frozen skin of Qip's right hand, which poked out from beneath the snow. Like an icy alarm, the touch of air inside his glove was quickly met with a flourish of unpleasant awareness as his attention came to life. The lids of his eyes snapped open, only to see the blue and white of dimly lit snow surrounding him. The heavy powder encased his whole body, it was the only thing he could see, touch, hear, taste, or smell. Qip could feel his heart jump into his throat, and blood began to rush as he realized he was trapped beneath the surface of the snowfall's aftermath. Judging from the darkness, he was probably just a few hands shy of the surface.

Mumbling something in Noturan, he began to shuffled his arms up and down, creating a pack of snow for him to support himself on. Thankfully, he held the strength necessary to make such an effort a viable option. In a few minutes there was enough hard-packed snow beneath his arms for him to push against. With a cry of anger and exhaustion, he pushed down and squired his whole body, forcing it upward and out towards the surface. For what felt like hours, he managed only a few tiny motions. Eventually, the snow above him gave way to the air above, and he gasped a deep inhalation of frozen air.

Qip could feel the cold air rip into his tired lungs, and he hacked out the pain, rolling on top of the snow for a few short minutes. As soon as he was able however, he made his way over to the tips of one of the trees poking out of the white, each step feeling like a gargantuan effort for his spent legs and arms.

He thrust his hand down into the snow, feeling around for something other than ice and wood. The brush of fiber and cloth caught his attention, and Qip blindly grabbed hold, throwing both arms into the depth. Bracing his legs against the bows of the tree, he pulled what he hoped was one of the Starfleet officers up out of the snow.

Saia's constitution was such that when panicked to such a degree should passed out. Even when Roberts did his worse to her, he would have to slap her awake. It didn't take him long to torture her just enough to cause agony, but in a way that didn't cause her to panic to the point of unconsciousness.

The spotted, blue shirted one slowly appeared as he dragged her, unconscious, from the snow. Being rather fit was certainly his advantage in this case, as she readily rose to the surface as he pulled her up. Her lithe frame felt cold and stressed as he laid her down on the 'ground', at least that was the best approximation of what had become of their surroundings. Small limbs and broken treetops litters the white around them. Qip could only guess how far up they'd been carried.

Seeing some other areas of snow begin to tumble and move with the officers still buried, Qip moved to assist them.

Breathe…breathe…breathe-breathe-breathe!!! Sina needed air. Her face lying in the bend of her arm she tried to push her head back. Could not! Already she felt the pain in her lungs. She pushed her arm away from her face. It almost did not move but at least bought her the tiniest amount of room in front of her mouth. She was totally baked in and beginning to see the tiny sparkling dots of hallucination that came with suffocation.
Snow pressed in on her body. She had inhaled deeply before the snow front hit her, so at least she had room to work her lungs. Willing to survive she concentrated on taking many little breaths and calming herself.

Yay! She was alive. It was frightening how immovable the snow was around her. It should be mixed with air but over time the warmth of her breath would meld it and turn it into solid ice which would shut out air for good.
She decided to make one last attempt to move her arm even if this costs her precious oxygen and shorten the time she could wait. She wiggled her wrist, then worked her whole arm to find out if the snow would give way in any direction at all. It did!
It got easier and easier. She pushed her arm upwards and her hand was suddenly free. Air streamed in and caressed her cheek. Taking in the first gasp was incredible. She had won her life back! Getting up high enough had spared her of sure death. Qip Oken’s warning had saved her.

She heard a man’s voice groan as if in deepest pain or doing the hardest work.

“Oken! Oken! Hey!!” She meant to yell but it sounded terrible feeble. “Saia! Markus! Mathew!”

No answer.

Ens deLaar fought feverishly. After an immeasurable amount of time she managed to touch her communication badge. Its ready beep had never sounded so good:

“Ens deLaar to camp. This is an emergency call! Four people have been buried in an avalanche. We need immediate help.” Waiting seconds. No reply yet. She hit it again: “Away team to ship. This is an emergency call! Five people buried under snow. Four of them possibly about to suffocate. Can you get a lock? Can you beam us up? Do you read me? We need help!!”
She tore off her glove with her teeth and snapped the tiny switch at the back of her comm badge. This activated a very basic continuous SOS signal. Its simplicity made it easy to understand even if it was disturbed and parts of it not received.

White. Just white. It was all she could see. All she could smell. Sound didn't even exist except in muffles, if there was any sound at all. She felt nothing. Except confused. Slowly, her mind came back to self-awareness, rather a sort of it. The memory would remind her more of a dream. She finally lifted her head and looked around. Seeing the alien move around frantically, she finally snapped back to reality. She slapped her chest, "Roswell to anyone!"

A fuzzy static mocked her over the empty comm line.

"Help me dig out your crewmates, Federation. This snow will be unstable, and I sense the storm may be getting worse around us rather than better." Oken hollered at her, not meaning to sound harsh, but unable to check his struggling patience.

For his part, Ensign Locke winced hard as he tried to regain his bearings. It was pitch black, and the cold encasing him had him immobilized almost completely. His limbs were pinned where they were, and after the dizziness from the impact seemed to subside a little he could feel by the blood flow in his head that he was no longer upright. The tree he had been clinging to was no longer in his grasp, and he could no longer make sense of up or down. Markus lamented not having held on tighter, but he had released a hand to reach into his survival kit just as the snow hit him...

The kit, Locke realized, was still in his hand. His arms may not have been mobile, but he could work his fingers a little, though the freezing cold was making it a painful affair. But after several attempts, he managed to grasp what he was looking for: a pocket heat flare, used in the place of campfires in cold or barren environments. Hope was restored. Markus activated it at it's lowest setting to try to begin to melt the ice around his hand, careful not to burn himself in the process. This was going to take a long while.

Hearing the muffled screams of one of the young officers, Qip pierced the snow with his arm like a spear. It drove down until it reached something composed of solid meat and bone, then he grabbed and pulled. She wasn't heavy, but her arm was cold and hard. It took him a few moments to gather his strength and finally dredge her out of her snowy prison. Had none of them managed to climb out, the 'prison' could have easily been their graves.

It was then he realized nightfall was quickly creeping up on them. Time seemed to have escaped them, either from being knocked out by the slide, or in the excitement of everything. Either way darker skies enveloped them. It would only be a matter of hours, and they would not have time to reach either the Federation camp or the city.

As the young Sentinel brushed fervor and snow away from his reddening face, his eyes caught a glimpse of something small about 200 meters away. It barely registered out of the corner of his vision, and the slightest flicker of movement was all that pulled it forward from the background.

In the distance, just barely visible against the contrasting white and black of the buried chunk of forest as it receded down off the snow into the untouched areas along the slide... was a person. Just standing stone faced and wild, with cluttered clothing and something in its hand.

Whoever it was, was watching them intently.

= END LOG =

Lt. Commander Mathew Caldwell
Chief Security Officer

Lieutenant JG Saia Roswell
Chief Science Officer

Ensign Markus Locke
Chief Operations Officer

Ensign Sina deLaar
Head Nurse
USS VINDICATOR

Qip Oken
Noturan Sentinel (Apb Landon)

 

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