Lt. Hikaru Sulu

Hikaru was on his way back from shift when he felt the pang.

Now, need to consume now!
He groaned and clutched his torso, leaning against the wall. Not again! What the hell? Was he just hungrier in space?

Need it. Need it. Claim him! Claim him! No one can touch him.

He clutched his head, feeling like two voices were trying to fight for dominance. Slowly, he inched towards his room.

Hikaru keyed the code for his room and waved Pavel in. "Have a seat anywhere. I think it's hidden...ah." He smiled and pulled out the grey bottle. "Vintage 2005. I remember buying this when it was brand new." He took a seat at his desk and pulled out two shot glasses. "The thing with sake is that you can drink it hot or cold." He held up the glass to Pavel. "For now, you're gonna have to deal with cold."

+ Has bouts of actual blood hunger when faced with a stressful situation (i.e. Narada)
+ Can see in the dark pretty well
+ While bites are painful at first, there's some kind of chemical mumbo jumbo that goes directly into the meal's hypothalamus: AKA ORGASM BITE.
+ Physical changes during blood hunger: elongated canines, extremely dilated pupils, urging need to feed.
+ Saliva carries some kind of thing that quickly heals cuts and wounds.
+ Strong. Not strength of 20 men like Dracula...more like 10


But besides all that? He's a pretty normal guy!

Hikaru was still following Chekov and Demora as they made their way into medical bay. He spoke with one of the nurses, asking if they could just get a biobed with a private curtain and a kit to patch up minor scrapes. She gave him a look before leading the trio over to a more private area.

He still couldn't get over the news. Where did this Demora Sulu come from? And if he was the father, who was the mother? Poor girl already looked scared beyond her wits. He searched through his memory. He was pretty sure that he didn't get involved with anyone that could get pregnant. Just made sure that anyone he was in contact with didn't get pregnant in the first place. And yet...there Demora was.

He cleared his throat. "Well uh...should we um...contact your mother?" he asked the young woman.

After his chat with Dr. McCoy, Hikaru made his way to the mess. Maybe he needed actual food as opposed to...He shook his head. He grabbed a tray of spaghetti and meatballs and sat down, poking at the meal. He hoped the red sauce would trick his mind and began to eat. The padd sat next to him, open to flight schedules for the next two weeks. There was an open spot tonight, between 2400 and 0300.

To: dr_mc_coy
Frm: suluh
Subj.: Flight practice
Dr. McCoy,

I am going to be in the hangar between 2400 and 0300. I would like you to supervise the testing of some of the shuttles.

-Lt. Sulu



After sending the message, Hikaru tore of a piece of garlic bread and stuffed it in his mouth.

He cried out in pain. His attacker had left him to die on the cobblestone road. Hikaru panted, pitifully grasping onto the last vestiages of life. He had just left the library at Oxford and was about to return to his flat for supper when the attack happened. A figure, crazed, grabbed at him and stabbed him in the throat. Hikaru was barely conscious as his body was dragged into an alleyway. His thoughts traveled as he lay shivering on the wet stones.

His wife, belly swollen with their first child, still home in Nihon. He wept, he'll never see her again. Their child will be a bastard and no one will be able to provide for his sweet Asuka. He briefly wondered if word of his death in England would ever reach Asuka in time for a proper burial.

As the moon rose, a dark shadow fell over his shivering form. "H-h-h-help. Please help me." he begged. The woman knelt next to him and felt at his cheek.

"You are on the brink of death." she simply informed him. "Do you wish my assistance to bring you back from it?" Her porcelain hand pulled back from his neck, stained crimson with his blood. "Whoever fed on you was sloppy."

Black began to creep into the edges of his vision. A knife glinted in the moonlight and he felt a warm liquid trickle into his wound.

( Collapse )

Synthetic blood had...little effect on him. Hikaru sat in his new quarters and thought to himself. Well, genius, you're the one who signed up for Starfleet. That meant being in a ship for 5 years without fresh-- He stopped his train of thought.

God, he was tired. Just completely wiped out. He had to take in twice the amount of synthetic blood as opposed to drinking straight from the source to even walk around and function normally. The stress of the Narada incident had left him drained. Flying was instinctual. Dying...the first true potentiality of dying...Hikaru closed his eyes. He didn't know how he felt about that.

As he was plummeting down to Vulcan with Kirk, he had thought that it was quite possible he would finally feel the sweet embrace of death. But Chekov had saved them. The wunderkind. He briefly wondered if he was happy or sad that the young Russian was able to lock on them. Happy, he guessed. Kirk was able to save the world and all their asses and was now captain.

They had just left dock and were on their way through their first mission. He needed to feed. From a live source. And soon. Hikaru groaned. 400 years...he stopped officially counting. And had stopped feeding upon joining the Academy. Now, he was truly regretting his enforced diet's effects.