Maker - Michael Jan Friedman [70]
It was real. And in the next moment, it grew from a glimmer into a fully formed column—one whose like Nikolas had seen a hundred times before.
It was the visual effect created by a site-to-site transport. Someone else was beaming down into the cavern—and doing it all alone, by the looks of it.
But who could be naive enough to do that, after an entire platoon had been destroyed by Brakmaktin? Who would even contemplate it?
Then the column of light faded, and Nikolas got his answer. Of course, he thought bitterly, as the figure in Starfleet red and black took on form and substance.
And revealed himself as Kastiigan.
Nikolas believed he understood—all too well, in fact. Kastiigan had expressed what seemed like a death wish ever since his arrival on the Stargazer. It made sense for him to have joined his captain in the cavern, where that wish was certain to be granted.
But if Kastiigan thought that sacrificing himself was a good idea, Nikolas definitely did not. He wished he had the power to send the science officer back where he came from, before Brakmaktin unleashed his wrath on Kastiigan as well.
Unfortunately, Nikolas couldn’t do that. He couldn’t even save himself, much less some fool of a science officer.
Brakmaktin’s massive head turned toward Kastiigan, his gaze fastening on the newest sacrifice offered up to him. Leaving Picard alone for the moment, he raised his hand in the direction of the science officer.
No, thought Nikolas.
But before Brakmaktin could do anything to Kastiigan, Kastiigan did something to him.
He touched a device in the palm of his hand—a device Nikolas hadn’t even realized was there. He wasn’t sure what sort of device it was, but he knew one thing…
It was getting hot in the cavern—incredibly hot. In a second or less, the ambient temperature had shot up well past the level of human tolerance.
Unable to breathe, Nikolas used his manacled hands to tear open the collar of his jacket. That didn’t give him much relief, though. The air was too hot, too thick to draw easily into his lungs.
But what was happening to Nikolas was nothing compared to what was happening to Brakmaktin. The Nuyyad’s head began to loll as if he couldn’t control it. Then, suddenly, he toppled and hit the ground. And after a second or two, it appeared he wasn’t getting up.
After what Nikolas had seen him do, after all the power he had displayed, it was a shocking sight. What’s going on? the human wondered.
But Kastiigan didn’t seem surprised by Brakmaktin’s reaction. He just pulled out his phaser and started firing.
And this time, the unconscious Nuyyad couldn’t keep the beam from hitting him. It bludgeoned him, seared his silver skin, sent him skidding and rolling across the floor of the cavern.
Nikolas understood now. Somehow the heat had put Brakmaktin back in his dormant state, using the power of his body’s own mechanisms to subdue him. But his sleep was even deeper than before, so deep he didn’t know what was happening to him.
Kastiigan kept up the barrage, battering the Nuyyad, burning him, punishing him. His beam slammed Brakmaktin into a wall, pinned him there, and assaulted his cellular integrity. As powerful as the alien was, even he could take only so much of this before his body started to break down.
Nikolas couldn’t believe it. He was watching something he wouldn’t have dreamed possible. If Kastiigan continued his assault much longer, it might put an end to Brakmaktin.
But the bigger surprise was how the human felt about it. Despite everything Brakmaktin had done to him, to the crew of the Iktoj’ni, to the Ubarrak, to Captain Picard…Nikolas found himself feeling sorry for the alien.
Because, through his link with Brakmaktin, he could feel the Nuyyad’s pain. All the things Brakmaktin had said in the armory of the Ubarrak ship—they were true after all.
He hated what he had become. He thought of himself as an aberration, a blight on the universe.
And more than anything, he wished he could die.
But Brakmaktin