The Dead Dark of Night

Posted on Sat May 18th, 2024 @ 9:17pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Ensign Lun

1,450 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Long Hard Road Ahead
Location: DS18
Timeline: 24 August, 2396- 0230 Hours

[ON]

There was comfort in the core of the station where she chose to live; protection, too. When the lights went out, it should have been terrifying but it cloaked Ensign Lun like an old friend offering an obsidian gift. There was once only one part of Lun that existed up until four years ago when that damn captain decided to trek out over the plane of the galaxy to avoid dangers within the stars rather than spend the credits needed to simply buy better shields.

When the lights flickered on and the pale, bare-skinned figure that stared back at Lun from the mirror looked back at her, she was reminded that this man didn't know the truth that monsters were everywhere. The worst monsters of all waited in the void between the celestials of the galaxies. Lun stood before the mirror's flickering light; her eyes were nothing but dark pits where a soul had once been. Her teeth were the worst part...

Long, razor-sharp at the tips -- they'd grown overnight again, as they always did since the demons touched her. As Lun bit down, she could feel the cold metal of the device pressing into her gums, making them ache. Her jaw strained as she tried to keep her mouth closed long enough for the machine to work. The smell of metal filled Lun's nostrils as she bit down on the grinding device. It was a cold and sharp scent, reminiscent of the pain and torture she endured every night. The air was also tinged with the musty scent of old blood, a reminder of the demonic touch that permanently changed her.

Her stiff posture and unemotional expression hinted at her Vulcan origins prior to the fateful trek out into the starless void, but the haunted look in her solid, abyssal black eyes betrayed a deeper struggle. As she let out a guttural scream, her hands clawed at her face, revealing tears that streamed down her cheeks and blood-drenched saliva that dripped from between clenched, freshly shaven teeth. The echoes of her pain reverberated through the metal walls of the ship, leaving a palpable tension in the air. She was losing control, and the lurking monster that had once tried to take over her body was threatening to consume her once again. It was a morning routine that only a Vulcan could endure.

As she spat out the grinding device, the light flickered back on, casting a harsh glow on the mess of red stars and white porcelain in front of her. The sight reminded her of a gruesome battlefield, with bodies strewn about and blood pooling on the ground. Her hands shook as she reached for the dermal and oral regenerator, desperately trying to fix the damage. With precise movements, she sprayed the black enamel back to its original pristine white and opened her mouth. Crimson stains still lingered around her lips from the daily operation to make herself look more normal, but aside from that, her teeth now looked passable as any other Vulcan's once more. She wiped her face, leaving behind streaks of red on her pale skin, and turned to face the mirror. In its reflection, she saw the dark voids where her once-normal eyes used to be - constantly a reminder of what she had lost at the decision of a freighter captain in his desperate struggle to cut corners by trespassing through hell.

Lun delicately placed the full-eyed contact lenses over her non-existent irises and over the dark sclera, their black hue transforming into a normal dark, brown-eyed gaze. She reached for a towel to wipe away the blood that had trickled down her face. As she gazed into the mirror, she saw her reflection- the person she used to be before everything changed. Her Vulcan heritage shone through, as evident in her perfectly arched eyebrows and stoic expression. The station suddenly shook, causing her to break out of her daze.

The young Vulcan moved with an otherworldly grace, her lithe figure gliding through the dimly lit quarters as if weightless. It was almost as if she was meticulously stalking her clothes before putting them on, each movement precise and calculated. As she emerged from her quarters fully dressed in her Starfleet Intelligence Uniform, she exuded an air of confidence and control. Her slender fingers trailed along the walls as she made her way toward the armory, her sharp senses taking in every detail of her surroundings. With a purposeful stride, she retrieved a phaser-rifle and deftly powered it on. A strand of dark black hair fell across her face, but she quickly brushed it back and tucked it behind her pointed ear. As she gazed up the hall, her head cocked to the side in a swift motion, she could sense the emotions of those around her - fear, tension, unease. But to her, it was all just data to be analyzed and processed. Her mind was in turmoil as she looked at the frantic foot activity in the corridors. A part of her, deep down, knew that they were meant to be her prey - a reminder of the creature that had tried to take control and turn her into a demon. But another part, stronger and more dominant, told her that she was in control now. She could feel the power pulsing through her veins, but it came with a heavy price - the painful morning routine that served as a constant reminder of what she had become. It was a never-ending internal battle between her past and present self.

Every conversation, every sound echoed loudly in her ears. This was one of the skills that made her an exceptional intelligence officer. The ever-present hum of the space station's machinery seemed to magnify, allowing her to pinpoint its origin with precision. As she made her way towards the promenade, which on any other day would be bustling with activity, the tension in the air was palpable. Instead of traders and visitors, there were now only Starfleet Officers and personnel frantically moving about, their faces etched with fear and anxiety.

Despite appearing Vulcan, Lun moved with a fluidity that betrayed her true nature. Her movements were sharp and precise, producing no sound even in a quiet environment. It was as if she had been programmed to walk this way... or controlled by some unknown force. Those who knew her well often described her as existing in the "uncanny valley".

Suddenly, a crewman darted out of her path as Lun's hand shot out to grasp the metal railing overlooking the chaotic battlefield below. Through the connection between herself and the station, she could feel every vibration - the frantic footsteps and panicked voices of those below, as well as any weaknesses in the structure itself. Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she let out a low hiss of concentration as she focused on calming her racing heart and taking in all the information around her without assistance.

Her heightened senses allowed her to detect gaps where there once were clusters of people, alarms blaring through breached sections of the station, and familiar scents that were now faintly dispersed. Putting all these pieces together, she deduced that there had been a hull breach somewhere along her intended path to the security office where vital intel awaited her.
Lun arched her back, feeling the slight strain in her muscles as she tilted her head to the side. Her pointed right ear almost touched her right shoulder, a sign of concentration as she gazed intently in the direction of her desired destination. Her furrowed brow and slightly upturned lips betrayed a mix of determination and apprehension. Despite the lack of abnormally long fangs - for now - Lun knew that in just twenty hours, she would have to subject herself to another round of excruciating torture. But survival through the rest of the early night hours was not guaranteed either. As she blinked in self-reflection, Lun took a deep breath and straightened up, attempting to blend in with the busy crowd. However, for anyone who caught a glimpse of her display of predatory target recognition, they kept a wary eye on her as she silently glided through the chaotic mess that was Starbase Eighteen. The bright lights and constant chatter did little to distract Lun from her mission and the weight of responsibility on her shoulders. These people may have been afraid of her, but they were her people and she’d protect them with every ounce of Vulcan soul she had remaining.

[OFF]

Ensing Lun
Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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