He decided instantly that she was beautiful, if not for being so weird, and simultaneously imagined that made her all the more radiant.
Clothed in sparkling star dust and the after-burn of a dying star, her hair radiated the colors of ion clouds, newborn nebulae, comet storms, her eyes burned with the fury and brilliance of novae, and fixing on them he at last felt the need to look away.
"Pavel," she called to him, "you must come to us, Pavel! You must come in your starship and see me-"
He felt something constrict, as if he couldn't breathe, and he tried to turn away further. The feeling grew, overtaking his chest, arms, legs…His very mind seemed choked and trapped, as if lost in a briar and a fog.
"Pavel-"
She drew near. The intensity of her flame singed his hair and flushed his skin, turned his blood to boiling, stole the air from his lungs. He groaned at her touch, the light breath of fingertips igniting the short hairs on the back of his arm where her hand trailed. She was too close, too demanding-
"You must…starship…come to me!"
"No, NO!-" he finally yelped, but as his words found purchase, so did his mind.
He was in his bed, onboard the Enterprise.