STAR TREK® THE LOST YEARS by J.M. DILLARD

Author:J.M. DILLARD
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: POCKET BOOKS
Published: 1989-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

He knelt before it and wondered if the great mind within were still intact after millennia of neglect. He had heard tales of katras that mysteriously perished inside their orbs, and he remembered his fear: How terrible, indeed, to come this far, risk this much, all for nothing!

Gently he approached the field in the traditional manner, using both hands to reach for the globe as he would for another’s temples in the act of mind-meld. The field dimmed in response, permitting his fingers contact with the hard shell of the vrekatra.

“Master Zakal,” he whispered. Joyfully, he sensed an intelligence stirring, as if awakening from a long slumber.

Master Zakal, I have come from the Declared. We ask your aid in the struggle against the followers of Surak. Will you freely consent to join us?

YES!

The force of Zakal’s entry hurled Sekar backward onto the floor. Sekar felt in the midst of a great sandstorm that raged so mightily against him that he cried out in anguish. The power of Zakal’s hatred overwhelmed him. He struggled to retain his own identity; Zakal devoured his mind, his body, and only his Kolinahr training kept Sekar from sheer oblivion.

Master, his mind screamed. The effort required to think that one word was enormous.

His struggle eased. Zakal was silent, listening.

I have a plan of escape. We shall go to the Declared. But you must let me up. I need control of my body. The Watcher will awake soon, and the others will discover us …

Sekar was lifted to his feet, as if by a great invisible hand.

Thank you, Master. He used the archaic expression that had died out shortly after Zakal’s time. Tentatively he took a step and found that control had indeed been returned to him. But the crushing weight of Zakal’s mind was still with him. Sekar ran lightly through the great Hall, past the open portal. He would have continued past the supine form of the Watcher, but Zakal jerked Sekar’s body to a halt. Sekar understood instantly.

Master, no. It is not necessary—

IT IS NECESSARY.

Sekar balked. He watched as his own hands suddenly reached out toward Storil and rolled the unconscious Vulcan over, felt the audible crunch as the Watcher’s neck snapped under the pressure Sekar’s hands applied to it. Sekar’s face twitched. His mind recoiled in shame from what had been done.

IT WAS NECESSARY, Zakal told him. DO YOU TRULY WISH TO FREE VULCAN?

Sekar did not answer. Let us go quickly, Master. I know of a place in the desert where we can obtain a vehicle.

GO.

Empowered by Zakal’s will, Sekar felt as if he flew through the desert. No time seemed to elapse between the time Sekar knelt over Storil’s dead body and the time he stood behind the rock formation in the desert, trying to choose the best vehicle for their escape.

THIS ONE. Zakal nudged him in the direction of the largest craft. WE HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO.

Sekar entered the craft and found, to his delight, that it possessed warp drive and a small transporter.

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