A somewhat Halloween story of mine that I had somewhat forgotten about, but did a small retweak on it for my own reasons after reading it through and choose to post here once again. Also hoping that going back over some of my tales might shake the cobwebs from my head to try and pick up the pen or keyboard again in writing about my favorite fandom.

I do my fanfiction not for a grade or an award or in hopes of publishment. not after this many years for trying. It's my hobby and I enjoy it when my brain is out of it's usual air lock. I would like to hope when reading my stories that the reader is enjoying it in the same level.

DISC: Nope. Never did. Never have. Never will. I have enough headaches with having to take care of everyone from Star Trek or Paramount.



Rolling over, Kirk squeezed his eyes tighter trying to ignore the beeping of the communication console on the other side of his cabin. Wrapping his blankets around his shoulders and head more snuggly he tried to pretend that he was only dreaming the nerve scratching noise. It failed miserably in only four seconds.

Growling furiously, he threw the blanket's off caring little that they landed on the floor in a mass of tangles at the foot of his bed. At that second all he was concerned with was finding the jackass that was apparently wanting to see what the inside of a Starfleet garbage scow looked like.

Running a hand over his tired face that was in the process of setting into a irate scowl, Kirk glared around the cabin until finding the small digital chronometer on his work station. For a brief moment he squinted his eyes to read the numbers for a second, then a third time before letting it sink in what it said.

8:42 a.m.! Could that be right? Crap! No wonder the damn thing was going off like a battle klaxon! He had managed to oversleep over two hours and should've been on the bridge forty-two minu... Make that forty three minutes ago.

Admittedly he had been thoroughly beat after they had beamed back up from Pyris VII, with all of the hocus pocus and terror Sylvia had used against him and his crew. The usual after mission exam that McCoy had literally tortured him into hadn't helped any in resurrecting his stamina or view on the medical profession. Yet, he had never before overslept and been this tardy for any shift, even on a morning after a nearly disastrous mission.

Well, since he had been Captain of the 'Enterprise'.

McCoy would never let me him forget this day. He had no doubt that there would be some dry comment on the anniversary of this day for years to come in the messages that would come from the depths of the aforementioned garbage scow.

Literally leaping out of his bunk he headed straight over to the work station and slammed a hand on the switch, taking a second to enjoy the silence before speaking into the tiny communication device.

"Kirk here. I'll be on the bridge in five minutes." He grunted into the intercom, trying to make up his mind if he wanted to reprimand the entire bridge with a scathing blast about not bothering to check in to see if he was going to trouble himself to sow up for his shift or not.

In a heartbeat he quickly amended himself. "Make that ten minutes, Mr. Spock."

In that amount a time he should be able to scrounge a cup of coffee off some unsuspecting ensign on his way to the bridge. He could by pass a shower for the day, but there was no way by God was he going to miss his caffeine fix.

With a quick action he cut off the intercom before there was the chance of any murmured words of drollery to filter through and proceeded to his closet to grab a uniform.

Hand resting on the gold velour shirt still on it's hanger, Kirk blinked then pursed his lips into a tight thin line as it suddenly struck him and immediately went back to the workstation.

Striking the intercom switch with the side of his hand he hesitated before speaking listening intently while an intense shield slipped over the gold flecked hazel stare.

"Captain Kirk to bridge." The edge in his voice now shifted from annoyance to apprehension.

There was no response to the words. There was nothing. No voice or background noise of any kind to be heard.

"Bridge this Captain Kirk." He again clipped off, somehow knowing there would still be no reply.

When none came, the concerned gaze hardened as it swept around the cabin before resting on the intercom again. A coolness swept into the room suddenly setting a layer of uneasiness on his skin as he paused then spoke once more into the speaker.

"Kirk to Spock." Again silence clung to the air.

"Kirk to sickbay. Dr. McCoy report please."

Finding himself holding his breath, Kirk snorted angrily when he received no answer and banged a fist against the work table surface then abruptly straightened up. Leaving the line open he snatched the uniform from the closet and began to pull on his clothes at a breakneck pace all the while keeping his ears tuned for any sound to come through the intercom.

Stomping on his left boot he sprang off the bunk, slapped the intercom switch off again as he passed the work station and was out the door. In the corridor he slid to a halt, glancing from one end of the hall to the other and felt the first twinge of real uneasiness pluck his innards.

The chill that he had felt touch his skin before was beginning to permeate into his pores as he found himself alone. No one nor any sound save for the quite humming of the 'Enterprise' heart that barely vibrated through the ship. He stood stock still trying to block out the well known drumming of his ship to catch any kind of noise from either direction.

There was nothing however. Nothing save for the heartbeats of the "Enterprise' and her captain.

Momentarily shrugging off the cloak of dread, he again shot a look down the empty end of the hall then turned and heading for the turbolift at the opposite direction. At this point he had to worry about the ship then his people. There was little need to be concerned with the over four hundred crewmembers that he was expected to pull through any disaster if he had no ship to bring them back to.

He had taken only a few steps when he froze to the spot, a spine tingling sensation forcing him to slowly turn and gaze back down the corridor.

She sat there contentedly cleaning one forepaw, taking care to swipe the pink tongue over the leather like pads before hesitating. The golden eyes stared at some obscure spot on the floor then gradually moved in the direction of the man standing a few yards away. Tongue dashed over the black nose pad, as the stare narrowed in study of the human. In feline fashion, it lasted long enough for the human to realize he was nothing more than a insignificant silverfish to her.

To Kirk though, she was a large, long haired, whisker bristling, tail twitching question mark that could lead him to the answer's he wanted. Or to the one who could give them to him.

Starting to move toward the feline, he tried to move carefully and quietly ignoring the slight pain that went through his tightly clenched jaw. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now, was a cat. Especially a black cat.

It was too much of a coincidence though, after the mission on Pyris VII to ignore at this moment. Whoever or whatever she was, she had to have something to do with the 'Enterprise' being devoid of her crew.

If she did, she wasn't about to wait around to tell the Captain as she was off and loping down the corridor when Kirk acted as if he was coming in her direction.

He gave chase for several yards until he came a around curve and found nothing but empty corridor again. There was nothing to give evidence of the small furry intruder or which direction she had taken. The notion that possibly she hadn't been there at all was something that he didn't want to contemplate, but was unable to shake the thought, as he gave the empty hall another searching look before heading back in the direction of the lift.

Behind him, the soft thrumming of the engines was joined with an equally dulcet sound of purring, that seem to creep along the footsteps of the Captain until it was the only sound left in the empty hallway.