Discoveries & Disturbances, Part II

Posted on Tue Aug 11th, 2026 @ 5:59pm by Commander Percival "Percy" Tapper
Edited on on Tue Aug 11th, 2026 @ 6:00pm

1,540 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Initial Conditions
Location: Sautranis III, Sautranis System
Timeline: Three months before launch

The next hour passed without either of them noticing how quickly it was going.

The dust storm made its presence felt with vicious winds. The mountains behind the Kherat foothills were now fully obscured by a wall of ochre and brown, the daylight took on a dull colour of parchment paper. Irregular gusts pushed across the excavation site while the fabric of the diggers' tents snapped against the tent poles.

Yet, inside Trench Seven, Percy kept working.

Hescamo had decided to stop nagging him about leaving. He could tell the man was on a mission and any of his attempts to influence Percy Tapper would be fruitless.

With less than eight minutes remaining in Carlos' allowance, Percy's trowel struck something that didn't sound like stone. It was hard to hear over the sound of the wind so Percy leaned closer with one ear and tapped the spot with the handle of his trowel.

Hescamo leaned toward him. "What was that?"

Percy brushed away the loose soil with the fingertips of his left hand. Beneath it was a curved surface, pale beneath the red-brown earth.

"Bone."

The Akwapti digger shuffled closer.

"Akwapti?" Hescamo asked, shouting over the storm.

"Humanoid."

Percy reached for another brush--this one more narrow with shorter bristles. He began to work slowly now. The excitement inside of hm was almost childlike, though his hands remained steady and careful. A little more soil disappeared. The curve began to widen, and a shallow depression emerged. Followed by another.

Hescamo could only stare.

"Percy..."

"I see it."

The first teeth began to appear from beneath the soil and Percy could feel his breath become shallower.

The remaining dirt was cleared with yet another brush--the smallest brush he carried in his toolkit. From there, a skull gradually emerged. It's shape was preserved beneath the earth with an almost improbable completeness. The jaw was fully intact and the teeth were still seated in place.

The find was breathtaking. Thirty-two thousand years has erased just about everything else about the person, yet somehow the mouth remained there lasting longer than anything else they had found to date.

Percy sat back on his heels. He was grinning ear to ear.

Hescamo began to giggle.

"I believe," he said, raising his voice over the screaming wind, "we have something."

Suddenly, Carlos appeared at the edge of the trench now dressed head-to-toe in a coverall with his broad-brimmed hat tied tightly under the chin and goggles strapped over his eyes.

"You have to be kidding me."

Percy and Hescamo looked up as Carlos' eyes found the skull. For several seconds he simply stared. Then, he too, began to laugh.

Houchmi arrived behind him and leaned over the edge. When he saw what lay beneath Percy, his face opened into the broadest smile Percy had seen from in weeks.

Carlos turned toward the excavation crew hovering near the entrances of their tents.

"Stasis barrier! Now!"

Several workers hurried toward Trench Seven carrying compact equipment cases. They drove four slender posts into the ground in a grid-pattern around the excavation. Each post unfolded itself into a set of self-boring anchors that disappeared beneath the surface with a low mechanical whine. Once the anchors locked, each of the workers activated the system.

Immediately, a faint blue shimmer appeared around the trench in a semi-rectangular shape. It was fortunate that the field came to life when it did because the most dangerous gust of the storm struck moments later when dust, dirt, rocks, and fragments of debris began to hit the invisible field and bounce away.

Percy shot a concerned look at Carlos. "Will it hold?"

Carlos looked to Houchmi for an answer. The elder Akwapti appeared unsure.

"We'll soon find out."

Something about the answer sounded entirely irresponsible but Percy knew these were the obstacles all archaeologists faced.

Percy climbed out of the trench without looking back.

The camp lay in a narrow ravine between two shelves of dark rock, where the surrounding terrain offered some protection from the worst of the wind. The tents had been secured using additional lines, and the archaeologists moved between them carefully. They had already experienced enough desert weather to know it necessitated respect.

Percy reached his own tent with a face completely caked in dust.

He ducked inside and pulled the flap closed behind him.

The interior smelled like canvas, dry earth, body odour, and stale tea. A narrow cot occupied one side of the tent while a small folding table served as his desk near the foot of the bed. Everything had acquired the same thin coating of ochre dust as the rest of the expedition, including the clothes he had abandoned on the table several days before.

Percy removed his hat, beat it against his leg, and dropped it onto the cot.

He wiped his eyes with the heel of one hand and it immediately made matters worse.

"Just wonderful."

He began clearing the table.

A folded field shirt went onto the cot. Two laminated maps followed. A pair of worn gloves landed beside them. Something small and square slipped from beneath the maps, struck the hard floor and skittered beneath the table.

With a pitiful groan, Percy bent down and reached under it. His dirty fingers felt the object and closed around it. He knew exactly what it was before he had finished fishing it out.

The Starfleet communicator was old-fashioned by current standards, though the design had been modernized to make it more reliable than the units he used prior to the Federation's founding.

He turned it over in his hand. The black thing had Starfleet's older insignia from the 2160s on the back panel under a film of dust.

Percy ran a finger across it and stared for a moment. Then he placed it on the cot.

It was under the remaining maps on his desk where he found his computer terminal. He wiped dust from its screen, activated it, and waited for the glow which told him it was on.

He unfolded a metal chair and took a seat in front of it. Almost immediately, he was typing.

Federation Archaeological Survey -- Field Report

He paused. Then he smiled and added:

We've found it.

He entered the transmission address and sent the message.

Nothing happened. He tried once more. The terminal displayed a message:

SIGNAL LOST.

Percy looked back toward the tent flap which had wiggled its way loose from a gust of wind that struck the ravine, causing the canvas to shudder.

"Of course."

The flap opened before he could return to the terminal. It was Carlos, who stepped inside gingerly. He was carrying a canvas coat over one shoulder and wearing an expression of deep satisfaction.

Carlos pointed to the terminal. "No signal?"

"No signal."

Carlos wiped dust from his forehead.

"We'll have nothing until the storm passes."

Percy leaned against the table and crossed his arms. "This is the fifth storm since we began digging."

"It could be much worse, my friend."

"How do you figure?" Percy inquired, rubbing dust from his short beard.

"We could be with Alan Edelwright's team on Tritia Four."

"Good heavens," Percy muttered. "An entire planet with shallow saltwater."

Carlos grinned. "Perhaps we shouldn't complain about our minor inconveniences." He reached into his coat and produced a dark glass bottle.

Percy's eyes narrowed, settling on the label.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Carlos held it aloft, the tall font on the bottle spelled, Las Endrinas.

"Patxaran."

Percy laughed at how his friend consistently found new ways to surprise him.

Placing the bottle on the table next to the computer terminal, Carlos began searching every pocket and crevice in his coat.

"I've been saving this since Goutri Five."

Percy found himself pursing his lips grimly. "That would be... the failed dig?"

"Indeed," Carlos replied, reaching into the inside of the coat and pulling out two small glasses--coated in dust, of course. He blew into each sending a little cloud onto the floor.

"I believe finding a thirty-two-thousand-year-old Akwapti skeleton is cause for celebration."

Within seconds, both glasses were full and one had found its way into his hand.

"You know," he said, "we haven't established that the skeleton is Akwapti."

Closing the cap to the bottle, he gave a look to Percy. "There hasn't been a bone found on this planet that wasn't put there in the last forty years. I'm willing to stake my career that it's the Akwapti's missing link."

"There will be scrutiny and questions, of course."

"Of course. But no question is unreasonable. We are at the intersection of history, science, and culture, Percival."

He replaced the bottle and picked up the glass, raising it.

Percy raised his too.

"To unreasonable questions," Percy said.

"And the people who insist on answering them."

They touched glasses and took simultaneously drank. Carlos made a face.

"I apologize for the lack of ice."

Percy chuckled and took another sip.

"After three weeks here, Carlos, I would drink it out of a boot."

---

Commander Percival Tapper
Commanding Officer
USS Eventide

 

RSS Feed