Gala Morell. The demmie vampire Gala Morell, whom I had last seen plummeting twenty stories toward a Cal’mari street. As ravishing as ever – more so, in her brief nudity – but with her native charisma amplified many fold by flashes of light. Gleaming off twin predatory fangs. And shining with soul-piercing intensity from her penetrating eyes.

“Hello Doctor,” her mouth shaped the words, but I had no need to hear them amid the gurgle of solvent filling my ears. Her greeting was conveyed by that gaze, its hypnotic glint.

“I was so looking forward to our meeting again.”

Though surrounded by security guards, I could not cry for help. For a moment I was able to cut off the mesmerizing sheen by closing my own eyelids. Alas, those protective flaps soon dissolved away, leaving me exposed again.

So I decided to see if the channel went both ways.

“Hello lieutenant… or is it Countess, now? Are you so eager for a rematch?”

Apparently it was bidirectional, indeed. And I knew that she knew my confident riposte was all bluff.

“Just Gala. And the captain ensured that this time we’d both be unarmed. No biting… and no sneezing!”

By that point my eyes collapsed like sugar in hot water and vision scattered into a swirl of speckles, vaguely reminiscent of dreaming. I felt the rest of my body dissolving away… and yet, the fey link between me and the Nomort demmie stayed open.

Captain Ohm… knows about this?

Oh yes. He agreed, partly in exchange for my help breaking the landing party out of a dungeon…

I felt betrayed – a sadly pure sensation, like any emotion that surges over you, when you’re in a slurry.

…but also because I am the first demmie vampire… though surely not the last…

So this is an experiment?

One with much hinging on the outcome.

Okay. There was a logical reason behind this. Though I still felt used and deceived. No wonder Ohm looked so guilty, before he hurried back to the ship, leaving me in charge down below. And I had walked right into this, by delaying my own departure till the very end.

Although I lacked any true hearing, I could still somehow feel a churning rush as the transporter tube gathered a dense paste of all our bio stuff, finished chewing – and then swallowed, sending a gulp-packet of disassembled demmie, human and other cells hurtling upward, toward outer space.

Usually, long before this point, conscious thought fades away – as well it should, if the universe obeyed logic all the time. Which it doesn’t. And didn’t on this occasion, as our conversation continued. While our constituent materials swirled and intermixed, I felt Gala Morell’s hypnotic power inveigle through my inner mind.

So this is what it’s like to be human.

Hey, cut that out!