Maker - Michael Jan Friedman [40]
Did that mean he had learned to cope with his status as an aberration? And as a result, no longer needed the help Nikolas had offered him?
Nikolas’s heart sank in his chest. For a little while, he had allowed himself to hope…
“I have decided,” Brakmaktin said, his voice again strident and free of pain, “to accept your offer. I will allow you to take me to your Federation.”
The human contained his surprise. “You won’t regret it,” he said, keeping his voice as even as he could. He indicated the control panel at which he was sitting. “I’ll need to bring us about. And to send a message to Starfleet.”
Brakmaktin shook his head. “There will be time to send a message.” And he turned to the viewscreen, where the image of the Ubarrak planet had been replaced by a display of sliding stars.
He’s doing it, Nikolas thought, hardly able to believe his eyes. He felt a wave of relief. Another few hours and they would have been close enough to establish an orbit.
Turning back to the alien, he opened his mouth to suggest a heading. However, Brakmaktin was already beginning to fade away, turning translucent and then all but transparent and then vanishing altogether.
But Nikolas knew where he could find him—in the armory-turned-cave. It wasn’t a guess. It was information the alien had planted in his mind before he departed.
Just one problem, he dared think, now that Brakmaktin was somewhere else. He was leading a superbeing of still-questionable intent into Federation space.
But he was also buying time. And if he could warn Starfleet, they might be able to defuse the threat posed by Brakmaktin—one way or another.
“So,” said Picard as he reached the end of his briefing report, “we are following the trail. But we have yet to determine the end of it.”
Dojjaron scowled. “Or, for that matter, confirm that it belongs to the ship Brakmaktin seized.”
“Quite true,” the captain conceded.
All around the table in the observation lounge, the others considered what they had heard. Ben Zoma and Wu, of course, had been apprised of the situation already. It was new information only to Serenity, Dojjaron, and Daniels.
“Assuming we find the right vessel,” said Serenity, “my people should be the ones to board her.”
“That will depend,” Picard told her.
“On what?” she asked.
“On the situation,” said the captain. “I see no point in engaging in hypotheticals.”
Serenity seemed to accept that, at least for the moment. Daniels remained silent as well.
Picard turned to Dojjaron, to take note of his reaction. It was then that he realized the Nuyyad was leering at him. Not merely regarding him, but leering. And not just at him, but at Serenity as well.
“Is something wrong?” Picard asked.
“You have mated,” said the foremost elder. He made a gesture that included Serenity as well. “The two of you. You have mated.”
The captain felt the blood rushing to his face. He was about to respond when Serenity beat him to it.
“Why do you say that?” she asked Dojjaron, maintaining her composure quite admirably.
“I can see it in your postures,” he said. “In the way you look at each other. It’s unmistakable, even if you’re not Nuyyad.”
Then the captain did respond. “First, it would be none of your business if we had…mated. Second, it has no bearing on the problem at hand.”
“Why did I not see it before?” Dojjaron asked. Obviously, he found the notion amusing. “Where are your offspring?”
“We have no…” Picard bit his lip. “…offspring.”
“Not together,” said Serenity, her voice quavering just a bit.
The captain turned to her, trying to make sense of the remark. “I beg your pardon?”
Serenity looked into his eyes. “I have a daughter. Her name is Haven. She’s ten years old.”
Picard’s mouth went dry. After all that had transpired between the two of them…
The Nuyyad made a hissing noise and hit the table with his massive fist, making it shiver. “So you have mated!”
The captain frowned. “This discussion is not worthy of a child, much less the foremost elder of the Nuyyad.”
Dojjaron’s eyes screwed up beneath his brow. “How would you know