Subj: DARK FRONTIER, pt 4
Date: 4/2/01 5:17:40 PM Central Daylight Time
From: JM Lane

Christine awakened to a horrifying sight. The window was open and Lani was lying on the floor, unconscious, her neck bleeding from two ragged holes. She forced back a scream at how deathly pale the young woman looked as she knelt down to examine her after grabbing her medi-kit. In the course of her examination, she learned that Lani had lost almost a pint of blood.

Something had attacked her, something which could fly, something which had obviously come through the open window...but what? These were the same kind of marks found on the necks of the other victims-- and they were dead. Or were they? But she couldn't think about that now; Lani had to be taken care of.

She got the younger woman onto her bed and stabilized her condition, treating her neck wounds, but she was still going to need a transfusion. Christine then went for the com-unit and called the suite across the hall. Spock answered, raising an eyebrow upon seeing Christine still in her nightgown. She was too distraught to notice that he was only in a robe himself.

"Spock here. What is wrong, Miss Chapel?"

"Is Dr. McCoy awake? I must speak with him!" she exclaimed.

Before the Vulcan could reply, however, McCoy came into view, still in PJs with his hair tousled and yawning deeply. "Chris, what the hell's wrong? I heard you yell clear into the bedroom," the Doctor groused sleepily.

"Ensign Davidson has been attacked. I woke up to find her on the floor, unconscious, bleeding from two ragged holes in her neck and the window open. She's also lost at least a pint of blood and is going to need a transfusion!"

There was stunned silence for a while, then McCoy said, "Oh, my God...it's true!" A moment later he looked up at Spock. "Get Jim in here. I think we're about to start earning our pay!"

**********

Barnabas mentally kicked himself for having left a victim behind the way he had, but his hunger had been too great to resist. Thanks to his weakness, his curse, the search for the mysterious attacker would now kick into high gear and the *Enterprise* Captain would more than likely prompt his people to start investigating in earnest, doing what- ever was necessary to find the culprit who had not only attacked one of their own, but at least half a dozen others...and he had no doubts but that they would eventually discover his secret.

Once that happened, he hoped that they would allow him to tell his story before judging him, but he couldn't count on that.

And when they did, he was sure that Christine would want nothing further to do with him. In fact, she would most likely be terrified of him. He couldn't bear the thought, but there would be little he could do to prevent it. But his only other choice would have been to attack someone else, and no matter how great his hunger, he could never have harmed Christine. At least not at this point in time could he bring himself to do so...or betray her trust, much less the feelings she seemed to be developing for him, despite the deep feelings he sensed from her for her superior, the non-Human, the...Vulcan.

He had done some research and discovered that Spock's mother was Human and that his father was some kind of high official, perhaps even an Ambassador, if the reports were true. He had never seen such a Humanoid before, with pointed ears, upswept eyebrows--and green blood!

It was even said that his father was an extraterrestrial, which would make Spock half-extraterrestrial...which he seemed to be--at least physically.

He recalled Spock's reaction to him and Christine, wondering just how Spock felt toward her. He suspected the Vulcan's feelings for her were a lot stronger than he would ever admit to publicly, especially to her, much less anyone else...at least at this point in time. He found it difficult to understand how such an intelligent, advanced race as the Vulcans could have eschewed emotions in favor of logic, even given the explanation that it had been necessary in order to control their emotions once they had been such a passionate people at one time--and if the truth be told, still were.

He had done some more research on Vulcan physiology and learned that the green blood was based on copper, not iron, as was the red blood he was used to. Part of him was curious to know just how it tasted and how it might affect him, if at all. Of course, another part knew that Christine would never forgive him if Spock--or any of the others--were harmed.

Particularly if she learned that he had been the one responsible for the attack on the young woman assigned to protect her. Not to mention the other, repeated, attacks (some uncharacteristically savage) that she and her shipmates were here to investigate...and he could well imagine what would happen once they had discovered the whole truth.

Meanwhile, of course, he intended to enjoy Christine's company for as long as he possibly could, preferring not to think of what might be in store for both the *Enterprise* crew and himself.