by Sharon Miller
A vampire. That was how the colonists on Tycho IV had described the monster that had so far killed five of their people. Captain Garrovick knew that vampires belonged in ancient works of Terran fiction, along with werewolves and Bigfoot. But something had killed those colonists, had drained the bodies of every red blood corpuscle, and left the corpses looking as pale and lifeless as an android.
On the orders of Starfleet Command, the Starship USS Farragut had been sent to investigate, but they had nothing to go on. The attacks had so far all happened to males, alone, in the hills, mining the rich tritanium deposits that the planet had been so contested for. The colony had settled on the planet only sixteen months previous, with the sole purpose of mining those deposits and supplying other Federation civilisations with the highly prized mineral. Many battles had so far been fought to keep the planet out of the hands of the Klingons, and after all the lives that had already been lost ensuing that success, the Federation had no intention of now losing the mining personnel to an ancient mythical creature that only existed in fairy stories.
At the helm of the massive Starship, chief navigator Lieutenant James Kirk competently worked the controls at his station, and settled the Farragut into a comfortable orbit around the planet. Kirk’s exemplary record at Starfleet Academy had preceded him on his first deep space mission, and so far, Captain Garrovick had been unequivocally impressed with the young navigator. Academy legend told that Kirk had been the first cadet ever to beat the notorious Kobayashi Maru test, evidence which would help pave the way to his becoming a Captain himself one day. But not yet. Right now, he still had so much to learn about how to put his tremendous Academy knowledge into practice.
“We are in orbit around Tycho IV Sir,” Kirk announced confidently to his Captain.
Garrovick smiled, having expected no less than the most textbook of maneuvers from the Lieutenant.
“Good work Lieutenant.”
Garrovick then turned to his communications officer, and requested that they open a channel so that he could speak to the head of the Colonists, and notify them of the Starship’s arrival.
Formalities dispensed with quickly, and with the added burden of knowledge that yet another death had occurred that very morning, Garrovick began the task of organising a landing party. He made the unprecedented move of taking over half his security team down to the surface with him, along with an assortment of medical and scientific personnel. Lieutenant Kirk, although not assigned to a department essential to the immediate operations, volunteered himself immediately. Garrovick readily agreed. Although Kirk’s proper place was, of course, at the Farragut’s helm, the Captain was of the firm belief that it did all men good to see some battle action now and again. It kept them alert and focused, kept their nerves strong and their wits sharp. If indeed it did descend into a combat situation down on the planets surface, it would be Kirk’s first taste of fighting, but Garrovick had no doubt in his mind that he was ready.
Chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan was given command of the bridge, with an order to be on the lookout for any Klingon ships, who might see a visiting Federation vessel as a call to arms.
“If you get even a hint of trouble with any Klingons, then I want you to get the ship out of here,” Garrovick demanded. “Don’t worry about the landing party. We can take care of ourselves. The safety of this vessel is your top priority.”
McQuiggan agreed to this order, and the two hundred and fifteen souls that made up the landing party began the process of beaming down.
As Kirk stood on the transporter platform, his best friend, security officer Darryl Kohout, at his side, he felt a mix of fear, excitement and anticipation. Kirk had been a member of a landing party several times before, but never into such a hostile situation as this. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and focus on the task ahead. At his side, he could tell that his friend was feeling the same emotions.
The surface of Tycho IV was an unforgiving environment, hot, humid and dusty, with hard earth and treacherously jagged rock formations at every turn. Kirk was in the six man team that included the Captain and First Officer Art Chenoweth. While Kohout stayed at the transportation site with the chief of security, Foley, to co-ordinate the rest of the landing personnel, Kirk followed his Captain to rendezvous with the colonists.
The party walked quickly towards a small cluster of buildings. Built out of the plentiful, natural rock, the dwellings were functional, but were home to over seventy families of men, women and children who had settled here. They were met on their approach by the colonists unofficial leader, Avery Briggs.
“Captain Garrovick,” the short, round man said, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. Let’s get straight to the point, no time to lose. What do you need from me?”
“It would be useful if you could show our chief medical officer the bodies of the victims,” Garrovick requested.
Avery nodded, and led the Doctor off to an adjacent building, with instructions for the remaining crew to make themselves at home.
Garrovick and his men spent the next couple of hours talking to the colonists, attempting to discover any and all information they had about the deaths and who or what might be responsible, but it seemed that there was no information to be shared.
Eventually, the crew had no choice but to set out on the search for the creature blind. With no details of what form it took, how they would recognise it, or where it could be found, Garrovick organised his men into small parties of five, in order that they could effectively cover a wider surface area of the planet in a shorter time.
Kirk was placed in charge of a team of four security officers, and told to investigate the site of the latest killing. Slowly the men made their way up into the mountains. The going was tough, the climb steep and the ground jagged and uneven beneath their feet. The hot sun blazing down on them drained them quickly of energy. But Kirk was a natural leader, and managed to bolster the spirits of his team effectively.
At the entrance to the tritanium mines the group stopped. Kirk made several passes over the area with his tricorder, but was unable to detect anything unusual. He contacted the Captain to provide a status update.
“Kirk here,” he spoke into his communicator. “We have arrived at the mining site, but can find no evidence of the creature. We will continue to investigate the surrounding area.”
“Good work Kirk,” Garrovick commended. “Keep me posted of anything at all that you see.”
Kirk organized his team to split and head off in different directions to make a full search.
“Stay alert men,” he told them. “We still have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
Kirk took his own section and made further tricorder readings, but it was all fruitless. The sun’s heat was relentless, and only served to increase Kirk’s feeling of complete helplessness at the situation. How were they meant to fight a creature that they didn’t know anything about, and that most of the crew felt didn’t even exist anyway? The seemingly fantastical description of this vampiric monster by the colonists had resulted in certain members of the Farragut’s crew suggesting that they look closer to the colonists themselves for the identity of the killer. Attempting to coax full diligence from men who believed they were being sent on a wild goose chase was not an easy task, but it was a reflection of Kirk’s strength as a leader that his own team supported him fully.
The men eventually regrouped and reported their non-eventful findings. Kirk thought fast to determine his next steps.
“Okay men, what we need to do is…”
His sentence was silenced prematurely by the sound of an agonized scream piercing the air, and echoing round the mine area hauntingly. Kirk sprang to action immediately, quickly determining the direction of the sound and charging over there, his team hot on his heels.
“Be ready for anything men!” Kirk called over his shoulder, as he agilely leaped down the mountain side, his phaser ready and set to kill.
Rounding an outcropping, Kirk was brought to an immediate stop, feeling like he had just been winded with a fist to the stomach. Before him on the hard ground, lay science officer Holland and his own team. The blood had been drained from their bodies as surely as the last breath had been depleted from their lungs. All except Holland, who somehow was managing to cling to the last remnants of his life. Kirk was on his knees at the man’s side instantly.
“Kirk” Holland croaked, weakly reaching up to him.
“Just relax,” Kirk told him calmly. “I’m going to get some medical help.”
Kirk used his communicator to request immediate medical assistance, providing their location the best that he could considering their featureless surroundings. Turning back to the stricken science officer he cradled the man’s head gently.
“It’s going to be okay Holland,” he reassured the dying man. Kirk knew that he had no choice but to ask the next question. Had their immediate predicaments been reversed, the science officer would surely have demanded the same of Kirk. “Holland,” he began softly, “did you get a look at it? Can you tell us anything about it?”
“We didn’t see it,” he whispered, “but we smelt it.”
Kirk frowned.
“The smell,” Holland continued, seemingly reliving the attack as his memories came flooding back. “Oh God, it smelt like…like honey. It smothered us, choked us.”
“It’s okay,” Kirk soothed him, “You’re safe now.”
But as the medical officer arrived on the scene, Kirk already knew that he was too late. A sweep of the Doctor’s medical scanner confirmed it.
Kirk stood, and walked a few paces away from the group to regain his composure and organize his thoughts. Holland had been a good officer, and an even better friend. Kirk began to feel a deep sense of anger and hatred towards this creature. If he allowed it to, it would be enough to consume him fully. He had to control himself. They’d already lost five good officers, they couldn’t afford to lose any more.
He contacted the Captain again. “Sir, Holland and his team have been found dead. They were able to tell us that the creature has a sweet odour, like honey. So far that’s the best thing we have to go on.”
Kirk gathered his men once more, and along with the Doctor and his team they began a search of the area, in the chance that the creature was still nearby.
Kirk was making a tricorder pass of his surroundings when he noticed that there were high readings for dikoronium. He walked over to the Doctor.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, “Dikoronium.”
The medical officer raised an eyebrow. “Dikoronium is only known to exist in laboratories.”
Kirk nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
The debate was interrupted as Kirk suddenly became aware of a strange odour in the air. He grabbed the medics arm reflexively. “Can you smell that?” he asked.
The medic sniffed at the air, his eyes growing wide. “Yeah, it smells like, like…”
“Honey,” Kirk stated, the implications of that statement hitting both men immediately.
Kirk waved all of his men back to him. In a low voice he said to them all, “It’s here. Look alive men. Phasers on kill.”
Backs together, the men made a wide circle, phasers cocked and aimed, senses on full alert.
“I don’t see anything sir,” one of the security men said nervously.
“Maybe it’s invisible,” another offered.
Kirk made a further tricorder reading. “The dikoronium readings are getting stronger, and coming from right behind that rocky outcrop there.”
He pointed in front of him, and nine pairs of eyes followed his finger and locked on target. As they all watched, a strange mist began to move slowly around the corner. On the surface it looked like a cloud of gas, but there was something about it that told every single man there to keep their guard up. As the cloud cleared the outcrop, and came to rest in front of them, Kirk estimated it to be about two meters wide, incredibly dense and…something else…sentient almost. The odour of honey began to overpower the men, and a couple of them began to gag. As yet, all phasers had remained silent, most of the men stunned into submission by the strange sight in front of them. But as the cloud began to edge to within inches of the group, Kirk opened fire, and sent a steady stream of phaser fire into the thing. Around him, the rest of his team came alive, followed his lead and emptied their own phasers into it. The cloud moved back slightly, lingered for a few more seconds, and then dissipated. Kirk immediately hailed Captain Garrovick.
“Kirk here Sir. We’ve just seen it. Sir, it appears to be some kind of gaseous entity.”
“Kirk, get your team back to the colony outpost, we need to beam out of here, get back to the ship, gather more weapons, rethink our strategy.”
“Yes Captain,” Kirk replied, a slight sense of relief washing over him that he would soon be back on the Farragut.
He began leading his men back towards the colony buildings. The journey was short, but each and every man in the party kept a constant vigil over his shoulder for any sign of the cloud re-appearing. They marched in silence, phasers still at the ready, every single muscle tensed, prepared to leap into action in a heartbeat. Their combined sense of relief as they came upon the small outpost once more was palpable.
As Kirk approached, he saw that Garrovick and a good number of the Farragut’s large away team were already there. Garrovick and Chenoweth headed over to him immediately.
“We’ve lost ten more men,” Garrovick stated. “This thing is just picking us off one by one. We need to do some proper research, recharge phasers, maybe even collect some more reinforcements” the Captain said quickly.
But as he reached for his communicator, it was already singing out for attention. “Garrovick” the Captain answered it. He immediately heard the panicked voice of chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan.
“Sir, we’re under attack!” the engineer yelled. “Four Klingon vessels. Came out of nowhere. We’re being hit by some heavy fire. Shields already down to sixty percent.”
Garrovick closed his eyes for a second, and offered up a silent plea to whichever deity he drew strength from in a time like this. “Get the ship out of there” he finally commanded, “Evasive maneuvers, whatever you need to do to protect the ship, even warp maneuvers if you need to.”
“Yes Captain,” McQuiggan responded, immediately terminating the conversation and returning to his own battle.
Garrovick took a long, deep breath, and then looked from Kirk to his First Officer.
“We’re on our own.”
A vampire. That was how the colonists on Tycho IV had described the monster that had so far killed five of their people. Captain Garrovick knew that vampires belonged in ancient works of Terran fiction, along with werewolves and Bigfoot. But something had killed those colonists, had drained the bodies of every red blood corpuscle, and left the corpses looking as pale and lifeless as an android.
On the orders of Starfleet Command, the Starship USS Farragut had been sent to investigate, but they had nothing to go on. The attacks had so far all happened to males, alone, in the hills, mining the rich tritanium deposits that the planet had been so contested for. The colony had settled on the planet only sixteen months previous, with the sole purpose of mining those deposits and supplying other Federation civilisations with the highly prized mineral. Many battles had so far been fought to keep the planet out of the hands of the Klingons, and after all the lives that had already been lost ensuing that success, the Federation had no intention of now losing the mining personnel to an ancient mythical creature that only existed in fairy stories.
At the helm of the massive Starship, chief navigator Lieutenant James Kirk competently worked the controls at his station, and settled the Farragut into a comfortable orbit around the planet. Kirk’s exemplary record at Starfleet Academy had preceded him on his first deep space mission, and so far, Captain Garrovick had been unequivocally impressed with the young navigator. Academy legend told that Kirk had been the first cadet ever to beat the notorious Kobayashi Maru test, evidence which would help pave the way to his becoming a Captain himself one day. But not yet. Right now, he still had so much to learn about how to put his tremendous Academy knowledge into practice.
“We are in orbit around Tycho IV Sir,” Kirk announced confidently to his Captain.
Garrovick smiled, having expected no less than the most textbook of maneuvers from the Lieutenant.
“Good work Lieutenant.”
Garrovick then turned to his communications officer, and requested that they open a channel so that he could speak to the head of the Colonists, and notify them of the Starship’s arrival.
Formalities dispensed with quickly, and with the added burden of knowledge that yet another death had occurred that very morning, Garrovick began the task of organising a landing party. He made the unprecedented move of taking over half his security team down to the surface with him, along with an assortment of medical and scientific personnel. Lieutenant Kirk, although not assigned to a department essential to the immediate operations, volunteered himself immediately. Garrovick readily agreed. Although Kirk’s proper place was, of course, at the Farragut’s helm, the Captain was of the firm belief that it did all men good to see some battle action now and again. It kept them alert and focused, kept their nerves strong and their wits sharp. If indeed it did descend into a combat situation down on the planets surface, it would be Kirk’s first taste of fighting, but Garrovick had no doubt in his mind that he was ready.
Chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan was given command of the bridge, with an order to be on the lookout for any Klingon ships, who might see a visiting Federation vessel as a call to arms.
“If you get even a hint of trouble with any Klingons, then I want you to get the ship out of here,” Garrovick demanded. “Don’t worry about the landing party. We can take care of ourselves. The safety of this vessel is your top priority.”
McQuiggan agreed to this order, and the two hundred and fifteen souls that made up the landing party began the process of beaming down.
As Kirk stood on the transporter platform, his best friend, security officer Darryl Kohout, at his side, he felt a mix of fear, excitement and anticipation. Kirk had been a member of a landing party several times before, but never into such a hostile situation as this. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and focus on the task ahead. At his side, he could tell that his friend was feeling the same emotions.
The surface of Tycho IV was an unforgiving environment, hot, humid and dusty, with hard earth and treacherously jagged rock formations at every turn. Kirk was in the six man team that included the Captain and First Officer Art Chenoweth. While Kohout stayed at the transportation site with the chief of security, Foley, to co-ordinate the rest of the landing personnel, Kirk followed his Captain to rendezvous with the colonists.
The party walked quickly towards a small cluster of buildings. Built out of the plentiful, natural rock, the dwellings were functional, but were home to over seventy families of men, women and children who had settled here. They were met on their approach by the colonists unofficial leader, Avery Briggs.
“Captain Garrovick,” the short, round man said, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. Let’s get straight to the point, no time to lose. What do you need from me?”
“It would be useful if you could show our chief medical officer the bodies of the victims,” Garrovick requested.
Avery nodded, and led the Doctor off to an adjacent building, with instructions for the remaining crew to make themselves at home.
Garrovick and his men spent the next couple of hours talking to the colonists, attempting to discover any and all information they had about the deaths and who or what might be responsible, but it seemed that there was no information to be shared.
Eventually, the crew had no choice but to set out on the search for the creature blind. With no details of what form it took, how they would recognise it, or where it could be found, Garrovick organised his men into small parties of five, in order that they could effectively cover a wider surface area of the planet in a shorter time.
Kirk was placed in charge of a team of four security officers, and told to investigate the site of the latest killing. Slowly the men made their way up into the mountains. The going was tough, the climb steep and the ground jagged and uneven beneath their feet. The hot sun blazing down on them drained them quickly of energy. But Kirk was a natural leader, and managed to bolster the spirits of his team effectively.
At the entrance to the tritanium mines the group stopped. Kirk made several passes over the area with his tricorder, but was unable to detect anything unusual. He contacted the Captain to provide a status update.
“Kirk here,” he spoke into his communicator. “We have arrived at the mining site, but can find no evidence of the creature. We will continue to investigate the surrounding area.”
“Good work Kirk,” Garrovick commended. “Keep me posted of anything at all that you see.”
Kirk organized his team to split and head off in different directions to make a full search.
“Stay alert men,” he told them. “We still have no idea what we’re dealing with here.”
Kirk took his own section and made further tricorder readings, but it was all fruitless. The sun’s heat was relentless, and only served to increase Kirk’s feeling of complete helplessness at the situation. How were they meant to fight a creature that they didn’t know anything about, and that most of the crew felt didn’t even exist anyway? The seemingly fantastical description of this vampiric monster by the colonists had resulted in certain members of the Farragut’s crew suggesting that they look closer to the colonists themselves for the identity of the killer. Attempting to coax full diligence from men who believed they were being sent on a wild goose chase was not an easy task, but it was a reflection of Kirk’s strength as a leader that his own team supported him fully.
The men eventually regrouped and reported their non-eventful findings. Kirk thought fast to determine his next steps.
“Okay men, what we need to do is…”
His sentence was silenced prematurely by the sound of an agonized scream piercing the air, and echoing round the mine area hauntingly. Kirk sprang to action immediately, quickly determining the direction of the sound and charging over there, his team hot on his heels.
“Be ready for anything men!” Kirk called over his shoulder, as he agilely leaped down the mountain side, his phaser ready and set to kill.
Rounding an outcropping, Kirk was brought to an immediate stop, feeling like he had just been winded with a fist to the stomach. Before him on the hard ground, lay science officer Holland and his own team. The blood had been drained from their bodies as surely as the last breath had been depleted from their lungs. All except Holland, who somehow was managing to cling to the last remnants of his life. Kirk was on his knees at the man’s side instantly.
“Kirk” Holland croaked, weakly reaching up to him.
“Just relax,” Kirk told him calmly. “I’m going to get some medical help.”
Kirk used his communicator to request immediate medical assistance, providing their location the best that he could considering their featureless surroundings. Turning back to the stricken science officer he cradled the man’s head gently.
“It’s going to be okay Holland,” he reassured the dying man. Kirk knew that he had no choice but to ask the next question. Had their immediate predicaments been reversed, the science officer would surely have demanded the same of Kirk. “Holland,” he began softly, “did you get a look at it? Can you tell us anything about it?”
“We didn’t see it,” he whispered, “but we smelt it.”
Kirk frowned.
“The smell,” Holland continued, seemingly reliving the attack as his memories came flooding back. “Oh God, it smelt like…like honey. It smothered us, choked us.”
“It’s okay,” Kirk soothed him, “You’re safe now.”
But as the medical officer arrived on the scene, Kirk already knew that he was too late. A sweep of the Doctor’s medical scanner confirmed it.
Kirk stood, and walked a few paces away from the group to regain his composure and organize his thoughts. Holland had been a good officer, and an even better friend. Kirk began to feel a deep sense of anger and hatred towards this creature. If he allowed it to, it would be enough to consume him fully. He had to control himself. They’d already lost five good officers, they couldn’t afford to lose any more.
He contacted the Captain again. “Sir, Holland and his team have been found dead. They were able to tell us that the creature has a sweet odour, like honey. So far that’s the best thing we have to go on.”
Kirk gathered his men once more, and along with the Doctor and his team they began a search of the area, in the chance that the creature was still nearby.
Kirk was making a tricorder pass of his surroundings when he noticed that there were high readings for dikoronium. He walked over to the Doctor.
“What do you make of this?” he asked, “Dikoronium.”
The medical officer raised an eyebrow. “Dikoronium is only known to exist in laboratories.”
Kirk nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
The debate was interrupted as Kirk suddenly became aware of a strange odour in the air. He grabbed the medics arm reflexively. “Can you smell that?” he asked.
The medic sniffed at the air, his eyes growing wide. “Yeah, it smells like, like…”
“Honey,” Kirk stated, the implications of that statement hitting both men immediately.
Kirk waved all of his men back to him. In a low voice he said to them all, “It’s here. Look alive men. Phasers on kill.”
Backs together, the men made a wide circle, phasers cocked and aimed, senses on full alert.
“I don’t see anything sir,” one of the security men said nervously.
“Maybe it’s invisible,” another offered.
Kirk made a further tricorder reading. “The dikoronium readings are getting stronger, and coming from right behind that rocky outcrop there.”
He pointed in front of him, and nine pairs of eyes followed his finger and locked on target. As they all watched, a strange mist began to move slowly around the corner. On the surface it looked like a cloud of gas, but there was something about it that told every single man there to keep their guard up. As the cloud cleared the outcrop, and came to rest in front of them, Kirk estimated it to be about two meters wide, incredibly dense and…something else…sentient almost. The odour of honey began to overpower the men, and a couple of them began to gag. As yet, all phasers had remained silent, most of the men stunned into submission by the strange sight in front of them. But as the cloud began to edge to within inches of the group, Kirk opened fire, and sent a steady stream of phaser fire into the thing. Around him, the rest of his team came alive, followed his lead and emptied their own phasers into it. The cloud moved back slightly, lingered for a few more seconds, and then dissipated. Kirk immediately hailed Captain Garrovick.
“Kirk here Sir. We’ve just seen it. Sir, it appears to be some kind of gaseous entity.”
“Kirk, get your team back to the colony outpost, we need to beam out of here, get back to the ship, gather more weapons, rethink our strategy.”
“Yes Captain,” Kirk replied, a slight sense of relief washing over him that he would soon be back on the Farragut.
He began leading his men back towards the colony buildings. The journey was short, but each and every man in the party kept a constant vigil over his shoulder for any sign of the cloud re-appearing. They marched in silence, phasers still at the ready, every single muscle tensed, prepared to leap into action in a heartbeat. Their combined sense of relief as they came upon the small outpost once more was palpable.
As Kirk approached, he saw that Garrovick and a good number of the Farragut’s large away team were already there. Garrovick and Chenoweth headed over to him immediately.
“We’ve lost ten more men,” Garrovick stated. “This thing is just picking us off one by one. We need to do some proper research, recharge phasers, maybe even collect some more reinforcements” the Captain said quickly.
But as he reached for his communicator, it was already singing out for attention. “Garrovick” the Captain answered it. He immediately heard the panicked voice of chief Engineer Lance McQuiggan.
“Sir, we’re under attack!” the engineer yelled. “Four Klingon vessels. Came out of nowhere. We’re being hit by some heavy fire. Shields already down to sixty percent.”
Garrovick closed his eyes for a second, and offered up a silent plea to whichever deity he drew strength from in a time like this. “Get the ship out of there” he finally commanded, “Evasive maneuvers, whatever you need to do to protect the ship, even warp maneuvers if you need to.”
“Yes Captain,” McQuiggan responded, immediately terminating the conversation and returning to his own battle.
Garrovick took a long, deep breath, and then looked from Kirk to his First Officer.
“We’re on our own.”
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