Maker - Michael Jan Friedman [56]
“I’ll kill you,” he found himself whispering to Brakmaktin. “Somehow, I’ll kill you.”
The alien’s mouth opened as if he were laughing, but no sound came out. Then he turned away and went to stand in his usual place before the viewscreen.
“You’ll see,” Nikolas breathed.
“I see this,” said Brakmaktin, his voice surrounding the human, battering him from every direction.
And the image of Admiral Mehdi vanished from the screen. An M-class planet took its place—the same one Nikolas had seen before the Nuyyad began to deceive him.
Far from having left it behind, they were a good deal closer to it. In a few hours, it would be in Brakmaktin’s grasp.
Chapter Thirteen
“YOU’VE GOT TO STOP,” Nikolas told Brakmaktin, unable to stand it any longer.
He hadn’t believed anything could move him after what happened to Gerda Idun. He had imagined himself immune to suffering—that of others as well as his own.
He was wrong.
Nikolas had discovered that fact shortly after Brakmaktin pulled their ship into orbit. That was when he destroyed the first disruptor emplacement in the planet’s defense system, an island-based facility that looked like a high-tech octopus. Brakmaktin caused it to misfire, turning its energies back in on itself and creating an inferno of smoke and flames.
Then he had done the same thing to a second emplacement, and a third, and all the others in the hemisphere that faced him. And he had placed the images of their destruction on the viewscreen that once served the ship’s Ubarrak crew, but now labored under the whip of a different master.
And it wasn’t just the Ubarrak’s ordnance that had been destroyed. The disruptor emplacements were all heavily manned. Nikolas could tell from the bloody carcasses that lay strewn about the perimeter of the blasts, and the suffering of those who hadn’t been fortunate enough to die.
As much as he wanted to turn away, he couldn’t—Brakmaktin made certain of that. He compelled Nikolas to witness the carnage whether he wanted to or not.
But the Nuyyad hadn’t prevented Nikolas from speaking. “You’ve got to stop,” he said a second time. “You can’t just keep killing people.”
His companion’s nostrils flared. “Why not?” he asked in a voice so thunderous it was painful to listen to.
“Because it’s wrong,” Nikolas insisted. “Those Ubarrak were just defending themselves.”
“Which,” the alien rumbled, “was why they had to be eliminated.” Rising from the captain’s chair, he stretched his monstrous arms over his head, obviously stiff from sitting in one place. “And they will not be the last.”
“What do you mean?” Nikolas demanded.
The alien’s silver eyes slid in his direction. “What do you think I mean? I need something the Ubarrak have. They will fight to keep it until they see the futility of doing so.”
“Look,” Nikolas suggested, “maybe I can convince them to let you do as you please. Maybe I can make a deal.”
The alien looked disdainful of the idea. “They are not deal-makers. I can tell.”
Already? Nikolas wondered. Could his companion read minds that were so far away? Or was he just making an inference, based on the viciousness of the Ubarrak’s response?
“It’s worth a try,” he said, indicating the com panel with a gesture. “What have you got to lose?”
But Brakmaktin didn’t seem to be listening to the human anymore. His silver head was turning as if something else had drawn his attention.
Suddenly, the image on the viewscreen changed. It showed Nikolas yet another battle cruiser coming to the defense of the mining world, her weapons ports glowing as she sliced through the void.
Brakmaktin’s mouth pulled up at the corners. No, thought Nikolas, having seen that expression before.
But there was nothing he could do about it. He could only watch as the warship was wracked by a series of gaudy explosions, starting at her bow and working their way aft to her nacelles. Finally Brakmaktin got to her warp core, and the cruiser shook herself apart in a paroxysm of azure fury.
Nikolas bit down on his dismay. The ship was gone, but there were still lives he