The dangers of darkness

Posted on Sun Oct 23rd, 2022 @ 5:44am by Lieutenant Etrara Khalten
Edited on on Sun Oct 23rd, 2022 @ 6:55am

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: Planet unknown, System Barante
1176 words - 2.4 OF Standard Post Measure

The watery sun was going down once again over the horizon. Etrara cursed roundly in her native language and tried to tie the rags she laughingly called clothing around her. Soon it would be dark and they would come as they did every night, in the darkness. She shivered and prepared her meager defenses against them, it, what, she did not know although its dangers were very real.

The scout ship Khaless had set out on the reconnoiter trip from her ship the I’Keth at least twelve months ago, she had begun to loose count of the days she had scratched on the wall of the tiny room she could now defend. They had crash landed on this planet of ice and rock, two of the crew died instantly and her and Inkatha had buried them as best they could outside under the snow, which had then become ice, freezing the bodies in a clean clear sarcophagus. “Leng on the barge of the dead 'ej 'el sto vo qor,” Etrara had intoned. They had stopped going passed their dead comrades after a while as their frozen eyes seemed to follow them accusingly. They would never reach Sto vo kor now and seemed to blame their living colleagues for this, or, at least that is what Etrara thought. Inkatha had laughed at her. “The dead are dead Etrara.” She had said but after a few weeks even she had avoided them.

The wind howled outside never stopping or letting up in its ferocity but the pair were expectant of a timely rescue, they had food, weapons, a means of heating and their automated distress signal was loud and clear. For a few weeks that had turned into months Etrara and Inkatha had wandered outside in the weak watery daylight exploring, hoping to find life even on this cold rock but, there was none as far as they could see. No green life, no soil, no rain, no trees or animals and, apart from a watery double sun no heat and not much light, there was no moon to lighten the night sky. There seemed to be no evidence of seasons but the days were becoming darker and shorter so the pair surmised that it was winter.

On one of their explorations the darkness had descended before they managed to return to the ship. The cave they had been exploring was interesting in that a puddle of ice seemed to contain something small and circular that looked like metal or some other construct. Inkatha had finally managed to chip it out and had given it to Etrara to look at. Turning it over in her hand it felt smooth and surprisingly warm. Etrara remembered telling Inkatha they should return to the ship before darkness fell. They moved quickly and silently for, during the hours of darkness they had begun to be nagged by a nameless fear of the deep blackness. Not that Klingons were usually afraid of the dark. No, the cradle tales told to Klingon babes were of wars lost and personal failure to family and the Empire not of things that moved in the dark.

The pair had just reached the ship, Inkatha had been right behind Etrara as she reached the safety of the ship and the exterior and interior lights which shone brightly spearing the blackness which seemed to scream in the wind at the insult. Etrara had turned to see her companion moving forward towards her, then it was as though something had caught behind her. Inkatha’s feet seemed to run but go nowhere. “Qah jih!” Inkatha had screamed for Etrara to help as she was dragged backwards into the darkness which then closed around her like a shroud. Etrara screamed out a challenge “Jih will hoh tlhih nuqdaq tlhih qam” and ran out into the now deep darkness to where her friend had been, but she had gone. Etrara fired wildly into the darkness screaming out Klingon curses but of Inkatha there was no sign. When daylight came she found her friends shredded body out on the open ice. Etrara took the remains and buried them in the ice next to the others. “ May tlhih tu' st vo qor my jup” she had said. It was only on that night she had cried allowing her human side to remember. After that she had collected all the weapons she could and removed anything she could use as fire material. She pulled all the internal stuffing from between the bulkheads which, she found burnt long and hot. A small amount would burn well for five hours. She counted out the rations and discovered if she used them sparingly they would last her for six months.

Each day she would sit and talk to her friend and, latterly her lover as, after five months they had given in to the need for physical comfort. During the long nights they had cuddled together for warmth telling each other of their lives before. She could still feel her body beneath her if she closed her eyes. Those were the times she took her disruptor and placed it to her head wanting to discover the courage to press the trigger. Better than a long death from starvation and loneliness, but she could not bring herself to believe that there was not even the smallest grain of hope.

Then the grain of hope appeared one day. Etrara awoke to silence, the constant wind had stopped. She walked outside into the ice and knelt beside Inkatha’s grave burying her hands deep into the snow that covered her grave. Etrara’s tears fell making holes in the snow. The darkness seemed to recede daily now as a watery double sun began to shine through the clouds giving her hope that some sort of spring was happening. As her food ran out she took to eating the snow trying to approximate chewing. Five days after, she began to see Inkatha staring at her from a Rocky outcrop. Then she came to sit with her through the night watching Her sleep. Etrara was now so weak she was unable to go outside her stomach gripped with the pain of emptiness that transferred itself to her soul. The last night she felt she could now pull the trigger. Sitting up slowly and painfully she looked at Inkatha sitting next to her, smiling as she raised the disruptor and turned it towards her seeking peace.

Inkatha seemed to be talking to her, no shouting at her. Through her darkening vision she thought she saw movement. Shaking her head she fired wildly, even the method of her own death was to be taken away from her.

“Etek nam-tor la' tor rescue du!” They called, taking the weapon from her pouring bloodwine into her mouth as she coughed and spluttered. She looked up to see the rescue party and Inkatha standing behind them. She was smiling as she faded from view like smoke from a waning fire as the transporter beam took Etrara home.