My hand rests against warm flesh, tiny on his broad, muscular chest, lightly haired as is the wont of most of his species. I recall fondly the night we spent together.
His inexperience.
His enthusiasm.
I meet his gaze, those brown within white gateways to his soul, warmer than he shows to everyone else, I can read every emotion in them, clearly telegraphed. Humans are so easy to read.
His fear.
His pain.
I smile with gentle reassurance, his breath heaving under his hands, teeth sunk into the bit in his mouth, leather straps holding him tight to the table. I keep an eye on the monitor as I gather my energy once again.
His heart-rate.
His adrenal saturation.
I release my power into him, again, the electricity burning through his nervous system.
His agony blinding.
His body spasms.
The readouts spike, hitting the same level as the ones before. I note he has peaked at fourty-seven shocks, his levels redlining and taking a long time to slow. Cho murmurs to me, something about pain relief, but I shake my head, we do not have time for that, not until the installation phase for the regulator. So, we leave him to come down in his own time and I program the regulator, inputting the data it needs to stop him dying like so many of the others.
His protection.
His life.
There is some talk, Cho and Burl are human and they need time for their brains to switch, shift, prepare. I allow them the time, and then the next phase. The aenesthetic numbs his arm and the drilling goes well, the screws in place and the regulator connected. There are some drips.
His blood.
His sweat.
Finally, it is time. The Omega gleams in its vial, blood-bright and expectant as I slide it home into the receiver. I ask. He nods. It is time.
One press.
All or nothing.
The effect is immediate as the Omega burns through his system, taking his humanity with it as muscles swell, and flex and tear and grow, his screams start high, but continue into a low growl. The straps part ways with the table, I step aside without even thinking, the table collapses, splinters and dust fill the air. Cho turns to flee, her eyes wide with that oh-so-human panic response. Burl is bleeding from his eyes and ears and mouth now.
His life.
His death.
I can save him, I know I can. I reach out for Chos energy. I can always find another medical officer, but before I can take her life and grant it to Burl, he has already torn her in half, her intestines spray across the room, time slowed, a beautiful arc in its own way, painted in hues of red and black and brown as her viscera splash against floor and walls. I taste her on my tongue, coppery, sharp. Burl is going to die.
My thought. No.
My power. Not today.
I give of myself, so that he may continue to exist, but my life boils out of him as my vision swims and the colour falls from my hair. He turns, confused, agonised, shocked, horrified, his hair falls away and his body wastes away before my eyes, and he falls, dead.
My Rage. NO
My Desperation. NOT TODAY
I reach out and I feel his soul, it has a place to go, a place of warmth and light. his wife awaits him. She will wait still. I drag his soul from the gates and I crush him back into his wasted body. The darkness of my efforts wash over me, I feel the pull of the gates, calling for me, singing for me. My mother awaits, and my heart longs to cease its endless, pointless thumping, but the galaxy remains unsaved.
NO.
NOT TODAY.
HE IS MINE.
All is dark…