Michael wasn't sure how long she sat… it had felt like she was out of sync with the world, her world…this world, the distance between felt too great to tell without trying. Yet, she couldn't try. She felt numb. She wasn't sure what was worse, feeling numb or wanting to feel pain?

Nevertheless, the wonder didn't change the fact that…she felt off. The…connection felt like it was gone. Lifeless without its tether. That now, without an orbit she felt like a rogue planet; ejected from its sun's pull. A planet that got colder without a sun's heat and warmth… lost in the void.

Sounds around her echoed, but again….so insignificant. Everything was. Meaning in things felt…so very little.

"Burnham…"

The sound sharpened, high and familiar though something warm touching her face; the warmth of blood pumping seemed to drag her forwards, blinking once to see three faces in front of her.

Tilly, Nhan, and Dr Culber.

Her eyes ran over each of their faces airily before down at herself, noting the stain down the front of her jacket, could smell it in the air and feel it dry against her lips.

"Michael." Tilly reached forwards, grasping her hand, her blue eyes staring at her with a seriousness that didn't….quite belong. "What happened?"

Michael stared. "Nothing."

Nhan scoffed, shaking her head. "It's taken us about twenty minutes to get through to you, commander and you're covered in blood." She pointed out. "What happened?"

Michael again stared, this time at the Barzan. "Nothing in relation to security, Commander Nhan." Her voice remained empty of tone, listless, even. "Personal in nature."

Nhan's eyes narrowed though Dr Culber let out a heavy exhale as he looked to the PADD. "I…have a good idea what the problem is, Commander. But it's….a private matter. Doctor-patient confidentially."

Nhan didn't look convinced though she knew she was overruled by a Medical situation. "if this…problem effects the security of the ship or its crew, I will demand an explanation."

"Reasonable enough, Commander." Dr Culber replied. "Thank you for getting us in."

The Barzan nodded once before she turned on her heel and walked away, a step of unease in her stance but Michael was glad for her to be gone.

"What happened?" Tilly rounded softly. "I've…never seen you like this…."

Dr Culber eyed Tilly, then gave her a quizzical look that clearly thought Tilly knew.

"It's fine, Doctor." Michael pushed herself to her feet, "You may tell her." Her fingers came to the zip of her jacket and pulled it down and dropped it off to the side before walking slowly to her wardrobe for a fresh set she had hanging.

Dr. Culber inhaled deeply, "Commander Burnham…found her imprint."

Tilly gasped quietly, looking to her sharply. "Really?!" Then her face fell as she connected the dots; to why she was far from happy. Her expression shifting to apprehension. "Oh crap…. This isn't good. Who is it? I want to know who to slap."

Culber didn't reply to that but he brushed over it smoothly. "No one's ever rejected an imprint, so…we're stepping into new territory. I've signed you off today from work duty to monitor you. Your…neural activity spikes and drops erratically, it's…only just stabilizing so I want to make sure you're at a baseline before you're back on duty".

Michael swiftly changed though drifted back to the two with a nod to show him she had heard. "What have you told the captain?"

Culber hesitated for a moment, "I'll keep it vague when I tell him of your absence today. Your change of behaviors won't be missed but I hope that…this gets better for you. Truly."

He had hope, but she felt…blank about it. She didn't feel like it would get any better. Ever. Was this what Ophelia felt after her mate died…or every moment after? Listless. That… there wasn't a lot of worth to the world without a little bit of sun. She knew why this had started but she couldn't blame the doctor for his insistence. She had spoken too soon…

"It won't, but I appreciate the sentiment, Doctor." She spoke dully.

Tilly tittered then padded away into the bathroom then reappeared a moment later with a cloth soaked in water. "You're covered in blood."

"Yes, I was going to ask about that, did you bite through a blood bottle? I thought you were fed enough."

Michael took the cloth as Tilly held it out, allowing it to wipe away the dried, blackened stains of blood from her lips, chin, and throat. Straining the blue cloth almost brown. "It doesn't matter. Nothing does."

Tilly's presence suddenly wrapped around her, surprising her a little at the strength put behind her. Michael blinked though allowed herself to slip an arm around her and hug her back; perhaps trying to see if it'd help…

"Well, I know I matter to you, I know this crew matters to you. So, you will accompany me to the mess hall and sit with us." Tilly decided, pulling away. "Better than just staying in here."

Michael let her go though she nodded once. She knew Tilly was trying to keep her social, a…distraction. A way to keep her with the people cared for her. She did appreciate the thought… The Ensign wouldn't have it any other way. She probably owed her that anyway.

Tilly smiled softly, her eyes remained laced with the weight of concern but there was relief within the blue hue. "You thirsty?"

Michael shook her head. "No."

"Your eyes are black." Dr Culber pointed out, though he seemed to collect himself, his PADD and Tricorder back into his arms "Why don't you feed again. If they don't change back to red then I think it's safe to say they're not going to."

Michael nodded. She could understand that… Logical reasoning. Perhaps a vampire's eyes stayed black after…this ordeal. Ophelia's eyes hadn't changed back to red, even after feeding off that Orion. She hadn't thought anything of it but… perhaps this was one of the few indicators of such losses?

Tilly tugged her away.


Breakfast wasn't all that uneventful, despite the concerns from Detmer and Airiam as they joined them, Michael was glad for them. The distraction felt…what she needed. It kept her in the present. To her officer's problems and stories, not her own.

Bryce had drifted in to with his oatmeal, complaining about a crick in his neck until he turned his head swiftly to the side and cracked the joint and displeased half of the table occupants in the same process at the crunching sound.

"God, how is it so loud?" Tilly gagged, giving Bryce a look though he seemed otherwise unconcerned and tucked into his oatmeal as if it never happened. Her soured expression stayed before her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you wait to do that here?"

Bryce chuckled, his eyes flickering to Michael though she fixed a…relaxed expression. "Perhaps."

"It's only so loud because he cracked multiple facet capsules in his neck in one motion." Michael pointed out, her tone dry. "Trying to make me cringe?"

Bryce shrugged, "Just curious, commander."

Michael shook her head. "Just because my hearing is better, it'll take more than joints popping to get a reaction."

Detmer chuckled softly. "Well, he got our reaction, please don't do that again."

Bryce replied with a wink to the helmswoman before shoving down his breakfast.

"Commander Burnham."

What little distraction she got suddenly plummeted and the sudden sensation of ice seemed to fill her chest at the same time as a sudden ache ranged through, trying to numb the flicker of the pain away. In her mind, she could feel the stinging, like severed nerves being brushed against….

Tilly's hand suddenly pulled her back. Her warmth and scent filtering back to her senses before she found the second to compose herself, turning her head to see Captain Pike standing a few feet away from their table.

The others at the table also seemed to hesitate, noting the immediate shift in her demeanor, Tilly though did not let go and fortunately, out of sight and under the table. She squeezed softly, offering her a sense of…support. While she didn't have the details, she knew or could figure it out to know what she could need.

"Captain." Her tone lacked color though she felt….nervous as his blue eyes flickered to the others and returned to her. Questions and unease residing within them but also…confusion.

"May I have a word?"

Michael blinked though forced her body to move, feeling Tilly's warmth and touch vanish from her hand though she spared a look back to the three humans before she turned towards the captain, following him out.

He walked a short distance down, though enough to get out of immediate earshot. Michael though could hear Tilly get up and walk to the door…

"I've just spoken to Dr Culber." Pike started, "He said you'll be taking today off, Commander Nhan also pressed her concerns."

"I…am aware, sir."

Pike's jaw tightened a fraction, a flush indicating a mild sense of discontentment. Perhaps given her lack of explanation behind it. "Commander, I'm not aware of any sickness that could affect a vampire. I did run a check through but… I'm struggling to see what could have affected you to render you unable to perform your duties."

"We are incapable of physical illness, captain. We don't meet the same requirements of illness as a human would."

Pike's head tilted. "So it's psychological?"

Her head bobbed once.

"Is there anything that can be done to help?" Despite the subtle hints of his curiosity, he didn't press her for answers. He knew the fine line was close and she was glad.

"This…particular ailment is…new. We don't know what can be done." Michael, though was truthful, was glossing a little over the cause but… she couldn't tell him, even now. After fact didn't matter. "It's a lot to process and I want to deal with this. Privately."

Pike nodded though his head turned sharply to the side, Michael didn't look but she knew Tilly was standing there, waiting.

"If there's anything I can do, let me know." He spoke, giving her a stern but assuring smile before he walked away.

Michael found herself rooted to the spot…the tight sensation suddenly returning into her stomach…vaguely hearing Tilly patter towards them before she felt the blood once again before she slipped her hand over her mouth, darting away from her in a heartbeat; she didn't want to be seen like this…


Ophelia's feet trod softly through the grass, walking at a measured pace purposely though she idly noted the decaying corpses of alien and human alike that had been spread across the planet's surface, some in pieces, some now skeletons, some now hours old from the recent hunt. Decay did hang in the air through the presence of fauna was helping in taking advantage of free meat that was left, none would linger until she was gone.

How many had died since creating her new pets? A good portion, certainly. She had refrained from Humans until the need to get her targets had arrived; the attention they didn't yet need. Klingons… suited well. They were the preferred targets; iron-rich blood, meat-eaters, and a bigger blood volume and attempted to fight back. Triggering her Childes their hunting instincts.

From two, there were now six of them altogether.

Gant had been the hardest to get but had been worth the cost with what information he had been able to provide and he heeled well under Georgiou when he had arrived as did most of the others. When she wasn't around, Georgiou certainly held-up the mantle of leadership and unquestionably wasn't afraid to use her teeth either, which was pleasing to see.

Nambue had been on a medical frigate with Weeton. Januzzi wasn't easy to track down but incredibly easy to claim. The alien crew wasn't of interest, no. Only the turn-able ones. Human ones. The bridge crew seemed like the first choice; ones where Michael had interacted with the most. Perhaps almost befriend them.

She didn't need that many more… but, she had her eyes set on one more human from the Shenzhou… getting her was too hard to get to complete her set…but the challenge was appealing, just like getting Gant from their darker-side of Starfleet.

Ahead, Ophelia watched the flicking fire and the statue figures sat around it, idol and calm now that their feast was over. They were very aware of her presence, nor did they hide it though Georgiou's ruby gaze flickered up from the flames with a look of caution.

"You were three days late." The woman spoke, her tone void of emotion but it was easy to tell the vampire was displeased. "Your gaps between feeds is getting longer."

Ophelia didn't reply though allowed her gaze to turn to the faces of her childes. All held her gaze but there was no challenge. Not anymore. Her hand came to pat Weeton's jaw softly with a chuckle. He had been the newest. The cracks along his face were barely healed, she could see he was lowest in their little circle. Her eyes turned from him until they came to Gant.

Gant straightened up as she stopped in front. His eyes were a clear red and jaw was tight. Her hands rose to his face until she cupped one of his cheeks; feeling the brushes of his mind as she stroked a thumb along his cheekbone.

"Keyla Detmer. How do I get to her without arousing the suspicion of the vampires on her ship?"

Gant's expression nor eyes moved though she sensed his apprehension, the human's face flashing through his mind; the red-head with miss-matching eyes with a synthetic plate adorned the left side of her shaved head. Memories from Georgiou showed a very different woman.

Her lips pursed. She hated implants. She had to tear out Januzzi's as he was turning; they'd be useless with vampire flesh. Incompatible. Implants were for humans. An eye could not be regrown, even throughout the transformation, the flesh of the skin did regrow once the implants were gone, as Januzzi's did. He looked almost like the others. His hair would take a while to grow in of course. Detmer would be half-blind but… she'd have to make do. At least she had the other eye.

"You cannot get to her," Gant spoke softly. "That ship…it's top of the range. Two vampires are already on there and have …unique capabilities even if you were to attempt to get on. They'd know."

Ophelia raised her eyebrow. "Is there a way I can get her off the ship?"

"Shore leave?"

Ophelia tittered. Shore leave was not good enough…although it was possible her only option. She didn't have access to Starfleet records of when the human was taking it. She knew they were entitled to be taken where they wanted for it…. Timing would have to be perfect.

"Other options?"

"Lure her off would be the only viable option." Weeton pointed out softly, "No alarms have risen about all of your departures."

Ophelia didn't doubt that, but she could reason to the humans keeping it quiet for a reason; to try and track her quietly than freak the entire organization out. "So that'd mean Detmer may not be aware of your…absences." She could work with that. Her eyes returned to Gant, letting one of her hands to drop. "Gant, you'll get me all the information I'll need, I'll make sure you're fed well." She purred, allowing him to feel the sensation of her own memory of full satisfaction of human blood; his eyes widened for only a fraction and the hue of red darkened by only a few shades. She could feel the ebbs of desire for that though his mind was quick to flicker to his captain; her thirst…

No time for that.

Carefully, she smoothed away those concerns he had for Georgiou; let him think about himself for once. With a guiding hand, Ophelia tugged him up and with a nod, directed him with her.