"Come on…" Michael hissed out softly to herself, her fingers burned and ache ran throughout her torso as she fought against the pull of gravity. One hand up, one leg up, digging her boot into the surface for grip before pushing her weight up with a kick….then having to do it all again.

Blood pumped through her veins, she could feel the heat of it flush her cheeks in the already-hot weather, the sweat too that dripped down her skin, and into the fabric of her scuffed vest but that hardly stopped her from her target.

Her target was a melon-like fruit. Bright red in shell with huge waxy, green leaves that almost covered it from the harsh constant light from where it was growing. Halfway up towards the canopy of a large tree. In direct sunlight and quite high up. Which made getting it very difficult…and painful.

Her heart leapt as gravity suddenly yanked, her foot slipping a fraction. Immediately, she hugged the trunk, nails biting into the soft bark…. Staying put. That was almost a relief… a part of her suddenly didn't want to move— fear of falling suddenly seizing at her muscles…. but the ache and tiredness would make that impossible.

"Come on…" She inhaled deeply, the scent of sweet pine smothering her sense of smell as she forced herself to move, lifting her leg again, allowing the sole to feel along for another notch until she focused her weight down onto it, and lifting herself up another step.

Finally though. Michael was glad to see the melon in her sights, transferring herself from trunk to branch, wrapping her legs around it before carefully laying down onto her front, keeping her eyes on the prize than the sizeable drop below.

A low queasy feeling settled in her stomach, but she fought the feeling as she got closer. The Melon hung happily in the shade, barely moving as the branch shook. Carefully, Michael's fingers wrapped around the handle of her knife, withdrawing it from her belt before she reached forwards and pressed it into the stem. With gentle motions, the blade began to slice through; subtly shifting the melon as the gravity pulled as its connection was weakened…

Then it dropped.

The knife too but she quickly grabbed onto the branch, swerving around to see the melon bounce harmlessly to the forest floor…until the knife suddenly impaled it. Though the reality of the mission done, Michael turned her focus back… to her current position.

Stuck up a tree.

Though, Michael didn't consider herself stuck, the initial feeling of potential falling returning did seem to back up the fact she could. From her estimation of looking down, she had to be 20 feet up… she shouldn't be that scared, she had fallen four times as high before…

Carefully, she slinked backwards from her branch, until she felt her rear hit the trunk, she weasel her way back around the trunk and began her slow decent down.

"I bare melons and more root-potatoes!" Michael declared, happily to the Vulcan, covered in a mixture of tree-sap, dirt and melon juice though she put the basket down next to the other ones before pulling out the two overall melons and placed them in the correct basket. Her state of clothes would leave little to the imagination, despite the fact T'Sol had suggested not to climb up high trees.

The Vulcan in question paused in her work, putting down the half-finished wicker basket and peered into them. She reached in and retrieved one.

"You know, we should corner off a second of the forest and clear it. We can plant these and grow more like your Earth potatoes." T'Sol dropped it down, before picking up another, a bigger one that was about the size of a grape-fruit, sorting through it until she picked out a small selection, rubbing her fingers to pick away some of the incrusted dirt.

Like many of the fruit and vegetable items, Michael had called this a close earth name given its near-identical nature of an Earth potato in terms of being a stable vegetable that grew underground and colouring. Unlike an Earth potato, its inside was less watery and had to be soaked in water for a few hours before boiling down to bring down its hardness. It also looked more like a root given its length and root-offshoots that covered it.

"We have plenty of rooms to clear out first. Maybe we can convert those into a greenhouse?" Nodding her head towards the ruins, the ones they hadn't touched since they settled.

T'Sol hummed. "Possibly. We should use the one next to us as soon as it's cleared for storage. Especially out foods given our findings are proving bountiful."

"Once we fix the roof, and clean it out to be habitable." Another tiresome job. Michael was exhausted with cleaning, as necessary as it was. Their home now was clean and liveable but was getting more crowded with the more things they made.

T'Sol had long since gotten more creative and made more things, such as baskets, clay pots and a few weapons, such as an axe. Michael had been surprised the Vulcan had the patients to widdle down the rock to a sharp point in the first place.

If she was honest, everything about the Vulcan was weird. By now, Michael had been careful to not question the woman's odd behaviours; such as the routine disappearance at nights and being completely being unaware of it. Returning by day, starting the next project or cooking, talking idly about a new chapter in her planetary research she was compiling. The woman's ability of bush crafts was far too high for a Starfleet captain. From Vulcan. Those abilities were obsolete yet here; perfect.

Another thing Michael did find odd was also the planet. Not just on the fact it had something to do with her current state of questionable existence but the fact that… everything they had was in good supply. Michael knew all too well from old reports that most cases, things were hard to come by; more things were looking to kill them than things abilities to eat.

Two mysteries she planned to solve. First starting with T'Sol.

"Captain. Once I wash up, I want to take a trip down to your old camp." Michael started, brushing into the house for a fresh cup of water. The first sip made her sigh out, feeling as it all spread relief into her veins… watering her tongue.

"May I inquire to why?" The Vulcan asked, a frown in her voice. "It'll hardly be productive given it's buried."

Michael resisted rolling her eyes, glugging down another cup full before rubbing the water into her hands, into her skin, cleaning away the sweat and left her feeling a little more refreshed. She reached for her uniform jacket, using it to dry herself off before pattering out to the Vulcan again, a bag in tow.

"Curiosity, Plus, I want to see if there's a chance we could gain more technology. I assume you left everything you had in there before the cave in."

"I wouldn't advise expending your energy." It was clear to hear the disapproval in the captain's voice and the manner of how she continued with her weaving. "You can't actually get to anything."

"Then my curiosity will have been satisfied, captain T'Sol. I won't need to speak of it again." Her reasoning was sound. She had enough logic and the captain knew enough of human curiosity to consider her inquiry.

After a moment, the Vulcan nodded, "I won't accompany you if you decide to go."

"That's fine." At least then she wouldn't have to over worry on being stuck with her all day. As much as she did appreciate the amount of work the captain was putting in; she was a lot when it was day-in-day-out. If she had been stuck with Philippa, at least then, things would have been a little more relaxing. "I've managed to link up our communicators for us to talk to each other, if I run into a problem or vice versa, we should be able to maintain contact."

From the bag, she held out the emergency communicator and lipped it open. Her second communicator beeped inside her bag.

T'Sol took it with a nod. "Wise choice." She placed it down beside her; snapping it shut. "However, please don't stay out too late….or get caught in a cave in."

Michael's lip twitched before she nodded. "yes, Captain. But first, where am I going?"

The humidity pressed in all around her, through every breath and exhale; there was no option of a relieving breath from the heat. The only fortune of not over heating was the cloud that covered the sun but even then, the cloud was going to wear thin real soon.

So Michael kept the pace going.

T'Sol's descriptions of the path down had been vague, but her location hadn't been. It had just been a matter of following to the likely places and crossing them off but she had a good feeling about this particular area.

There was a nearby mountain side, white sand from both limestone and Chalk Mountains yet even dirt layers were compacted around, enabling the spread of vegetation across the surfaces. The trees were much shorter as a result, less fruit and less often the higher she got. There was no pathway so Michael kept careful to not wander where she could get lost.

Ahead, the ground levelled out, a part of it breaking off and restarting a slope up to another layer but there was a vast, barren space, broken tree trunks, piles of white sand now ashes that was spread around with wind. Near the slope, edge, there were deep crevices that broke through its rocky surface, exposing cave-fissures both natural and non. Piles of sand and stone dusted down all the sides and some of the piles slouched in to the crevices.

But the state of the ashes and broken trees were enough for Michael to see this was the right place. Her hands felt about, withdrawing her tricorder from her bag.

"Now, let's see where you are…" Michael muttered quietly to herself, running the tricorder along the wall, her eyes not leaving the screen as she went; the scans soon revealing the internal structure of several chambers within the slope. Almost all dotted too small for humanoid size and stretched down, out of the scanners range but one large internal cavern bloomed at the dead centre.

It showed it was just a bit smaller than their home space, but the scans had shown the face it was now partially filled in. The infrastructure above had collapsed, filling the inside with sand and stones of various sizes. All had the same composition of the mountain side so, Michael could tell it would be lighter to move than if it was granite.

Her heart leapt with a swell of excitement. "Yes!" Inside, there were high signatures of federation technology and boxes. Much more than what they had at their camp. Perhaps T'Sol's first officer had managed to beam down a grander survival kit than what she had. A gold-mine, so to speak. And T'Sol wanted to leave it behind?

Michael couldn't see the logic but she shunted it towards the woman's odd behaviour. Now she could see what the woman could have left behind, if that was her logical reason.

The recent quakes, she had to consider, made this inherently weaker. Once she started, she'd have to finish before the next quake hit that could bury her. The Technology wasn't too far in, so she'd have to clear the bigger stone at top and dig through that…

Her eyes ran across the surface, her arms lowering as she began to visually assess the placements...

Chirp

Michael jumped, her hands dropping the tricorder and her head spun around; until she realised the sound had been her communicator. She exhaled heavily, crouching down before she pulled the device from the bag.

"Captain T'Sol." She hid her emotions from her voice, the upbeat rhythm of her heart still pounding. "You almost gave me a heart-attack, I take it you need something?"

"Yes, the bag to you took with you, you've also taken the spare solar chargers and the wire-saw."

Michael frowned, setting the Communicator down and peaked into her bag. "Why were they in there to start with? I thought I put them on the shelf."

"I moved them back because I planned to use them later. It slipped my mind to inform you."

Michael pursed her lips. "Look, I'm at your old camp site now. I'll be a few hours. I'm sure you can live without them for the moment. What do you need a wire-saw for?"

There was a moment of pause. "It's better than using an axe."

The ominous answer made her roll her eyes. "Burnham out." She snapped the communicator shut and turned her focus back to the tricorder. Dust lightly powdered it, though she felt a wave of relief to see it wasn't damaged from being dropped. Michael ran another scan to check though all the signals were good, the scanners worked and…

She felt herself pause as she picked up another signature.

"What?" Michael ran it again but her earlier excitement disappearing fully, replacing now with a deep sense of uncertainty and alarm. Both the third of fourth scans were conclusive.

Vulcan bio-matter

Non-living, the decay rate showed about four weeks and from the placement, the remains were completely submerges under a vast amount of dry sand and stone.

Blindly, Michael reached for her communicator, swallowing thickly as she flicked it open.

"Captain…" She took a steady breath, "Were you alone when you were beamed down?"

There was along moment before she heard the Vulcan pick up.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? No other Vulcans came down with you?"

"… Burnham, I don't understand the question when I've made my answer perfectly clear." If it were possible, Michael could almost hear the sounds of exasperation.

"Never mind."

She cut the line, dropping it off before she took a breath. A Vulcan body, four weeks old since death, it didn't seem…right. She had been on this planet for about three weeks now. A week wasn't a short amount of time for the captain to forget about another Vulcan. She knew where the camp was, the rocks were lighter than usual so removing it with her strength would be little effort, just tedious.

Why was T'Sol hiding a body?

Michael couldn't think past the fact that…T'Sol was capable of killing. Now, that left her with the real possible thought of being trapped on this planet with a potential murderer. It could explain more to her odd behaviour but if she knew a body was buried here, she surely wouldn't have given her the directions… so why?

Fingers dug into the mass of stone, pulling the largest away; piles of smaller pebbled going with it before she yanked it away, grabbing the next one

She had to find the truth. No matter how long she stayed here. The thought of returning made her queasy… returning to T'Sol could be a death sentence.

The stone soon became thinner the more she removed. Stone and sand alike now spreading over the surface, decorating her clothes, sticking to the sweat on her skin and she knew she was otherwise going to need to wash it out of her hair. She forced herself to stop a few times, to rehydrate and to snack on the few things she had brought before getting right back to it.

Now, Michael's fingers clawed through sand, shoving it out and down, ignoring the pain as the sand grains caught in slight cuts; no doubt healing into her flesh but she forced herself to continue until she felt bigger rocks under her fingers, forcing her to slow down before she pushed them away.

Michael paused again as she saw a flash of blue, before the sand slide it out of sight. Immediately though, she shifted around to that particular area, fingers coming to dig into the area until she felt….something soft. Not like stone or sand, nor like a typical body. The blue was fabric; the colour she could tell was Starfleet uniform.

Slowly, her fingers came to gently follow the colour, brushing the sand away until she found herself looking at an arm… until a hand came into sight.

The flesh was still there, dried out and shrivelled and the sand was heavily incrusted into each dry crevice of the hand. The moister was gone, the sand looked to have been able to absorb and dry out the corpse; natural mummification. She could tell, given the heat, it wouldn't have taken more than two weeks to complete its process.

A shoulder, chest, and other hand that lay across the abdomen… then the hair was steadily uncovered as she got higher. Exposing long, dark locks of hair, whitened by the sand though… she felt herself grow more nervous as she kept on with exhuming. In one sense, it was wrong to uncover a corpse like this. Morally, at least. She didn't know what to expect.

Though it became clear the cause of death; the collapse had crushed the body over the chest and head. Even if the Vulcan had lived, the sand would have led to suffocation. The Vulcan has been too slow to get out or unaware of the loose infrastructure until last second. Laid on her back, facing up to the ceiling. Anyway, speculation didn't change the results.

Gold lining on the uniform-jacket shoulders made her frown. The Vulcan had been a captain…..

Her eyes rose to the sand mass above, holding her breath a little as she scraped and brushed away the debris until she felt the dry skin, going softer with a sense of dread until…. Michael found herself staring at the half-exposed face of the Vulcan.

The air felt like it was suddenly gone from her lungs… her head feeling light but her stomach felt the worse…. Falling off the sand mound, Michael found the energy to crawl away before she felt herself wrench up all over the surface, the pale sand becoming blue and purple from her last meals…. But it didn't burn the image of the body from her mind… confusion, horror and fear all clouding into one.

The Mummy was Captain T'Sol.