The ship was as barren and lifeless as a tomb. In the corridor beyond his room, lighting had been dimmed to emergency levels, a dotted strip of blue running away from him in each direction where wall met floor and ceiling. A tiny beacon of hope to lead the way. Beneath him, in the bowels of the ship, the bridge remained alive under the dependable hands of gamma shift, counting stars like sheep as they passed on the way to the Paulson nebula. Beneath him, too, was Dave. Confined, day by day, to that tiny, miserable cell, did he ever give thought to his captain? Perhaps while away the hours planning the nature of his revenge on Zachariah Cobb, on that day that he finally broke free?

The old man shivered and pulled more tightly at his Starfleet-issue robe, the command-red fabric barely meeting in the middle after circumnavigating his middle. As he moved further along the corridor, the temperature continued to plummet, as if, somewhere, a window had been left open and the glacial midnight of space was now seeping inside. Reaching a junction, Cobb hesitated, retreated. From this angle it was impossible to see around the curve, see who or what might be waiting. Close your eyes. Take a breath. Now!

The corridor lay as empty and abandoned as the one he had just traversed. And yet still, his heart continued to beat with urgency against his chest. Dammit man, pull yourself together! Dave is in his confinement. He is not getting out!

But deep down Cobb knew, it was not Dave whom he was so afraid of. It was her.

Dr Kastil.

Ever since that day, when she had appeared on the engineering deck like some kind of eldritch nightmare, Cobb had been terrified of running into her again. And even now, as he wandered his ship in search of a nightcap, he could almost feel her lurking around every corner. Waiting. To probe him.

As if she were reading his very mind, at that exact moment her voice hissed out over the comms. “Caaaaaptain Cooooobb. I’m waaaaiting.”

Breaking into the kind of run he had not attempted for nigh on twenty years, Zachariah reached the nearest turbolift and barrelled inside, his fist pounding against the walls as if the reverberations could more quickly seal the double doors. With agonising hesitation, the lift emitted a loud, pneumatic sigh and then finally the doors began to inch closer together. Closer. Closer…

But just as he’d dared to release the breath he’d been holding, through that final unbanished millimetre of space, came reaching in one long, protruding finger…

“Gnnnaaarrrggghhh!!!”

Cobb woke with such a start that he all but fell out of his bed and onto the hard, metal floor. He had thrashed so heavily in his sleep, that his sheet was wound like a ligature around his legs, his pillows across the room in all directions. This was the third time in a week he had suffered the same nightmare. It was getting ridiculous!

By breakfast, the Captain had made up his mind. No other option remained except to face this fear head on, to present himself at the Leviathan’s sickbay and submit to his mandated medical exam. Who knew, if he could spend some time getting to know his new CMO a little better, then perhaps he would find that there was indeed nothing at all to be afraid of.

Still, he somehow managed to procrastinate for a further three hours before finally arriving at the sickbay doors and, with a steadying breath, stepping inside…

• Captain Zachariah Cobb