Star Trek - TOS - The Tears Of The Singers

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by Melinda Snodgrass


  expression of disgust. "Before you government types interfere again with an

  honest man's right to make a living."

  "You do not have the right to make a living at the expense of another

  creature's right to live."

  "Until the law says they've got rights." Garyson's arm thrust up at the

  Singers. "I don't have to respect them."

  "Then you refuse to stop your killing?"

  "Read my lips." He leaned in close to the Vulcan, and Spock drew back, his

  nostrils narrowing fastidiously at the sour odor of the man. "I refuse."

  "I will report your refusal to Captain Kirk."

  "Go ahead, and by the way, I think we'll pass on your," he paused and

  grinned, "hospitality."

  Spock turned on his heel, and headed back for camp. His spine was stiff

  with outrage, but he did not know what other choice he had. Garyson and his

  group were legally within

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  their rights to continue hunting, and until a determination to the contrary

  could be obtained from the Federation there was little, short of violence,

  he could do to sbDp it.

  McCoy snapped off his tricorder, and stared grimly at Maslin, who lay

  stretched out on his cot. "What the hell have you been doing? These

  readings are horrible. Your pulse is doing a cha cha, respiration and heart

  beat are up, whit e cell count--2'

  "Spam me a recitation of my physical failings, Doctor," Maslin said,

  swinging his feet to the ground. "I'm well aware of them."

  "If that were the truth then you wouldn't be pushing it. I let you out of

  my sight for three days, and I find this." He shook the tricorder in the

  composer's face. "If these readings don't improve I'm going to yank you

  back to the Enterprise, andplace you in sick bay."

  "No, Doctor, please don't." The sophisticated mask slipped, and Maslin

  looked genuinely distressed. "I'll try to relax, but I can't go back now.

  I'm just beginning to get a feel for the Thygetian song."

  McCoy sighed. "All right, but prove to me your good intentions by lying

  down now, and resting for a while."

  "Okay." Maslin pulled off his boots, opened his sleeping bag and crawled

  in. McCoy started to prepare a hypo, then glanced back over at Maslin, and

  realized it wasn't necessary. The composer's eyelids had fluttered closed

  almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. He would be sleeping for hours.

  McCoy left the tent, and went in search of Uhura.

  He found her at the edge of the sea with one of the Thygetian cubs draped

  across her lap and gazing adoringly up at her while she scratched at the

  base of its skull. He dropped down next to her on the sand, and stared out

  at the swelling ocean.

  "How is he?"

  "Not too good. It looks like he's entering a flare."

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  "I take it you mean the disease is flaring up."

  "Yes."

  "What can be done?"

  "Rest will help. Just getting him to slow down will probably quiet the

  disease."

  "He won't. Not voluntarily anyway."

  "Then make him."

  "Why cast me as the heavy? You make him."

  "I don't have your influence with him."

  She dropped her head, and concentrated on the way her fingers ruffied

  through the thick white pelt of the Taygetian. "I'll try." They sat in

  silence. "He shouldn't be here!" The words exploded from her, and she

  looked embarrassed at her outburst.

  "I think he's glad to be here now."

  "Oh yes, of course. He's got a musical puzzle to solve. A minor matter like

  his health won't make him let go of that." Her tone was bitter.

  "I've never seen you like this before. Are you sure you can handle it?"

  "Don't fish, Doctor. I prefer to keep my private life private. 9 P

  "I'm not trying to pry, Uhura, really. I care, and if you ever need it, I'd

  like to help."

  She held out her hand to McCoy. "I'm sorry. I suppose I'm not handling this

  very well."

  His hand closed warmly over hers. "It's a difficult emotion. We all fumble

  along the best way we can when we're beset by the condition."

  "I thought it was supposed to be wonderful to be in love," she said

  quietly.

  "It is. It makes the pain of life endurable."

  "Even when it causes pain?"

  "T'hat's what makes us human. Our ability to feel and experience.,,

  She gazed into his kindly blue eyes, considering what he

  lie

  The Tears of the Sir*ers

  had said, then leaned over and pressed a kiss onto his cheek. "Thank you,

  Doctor. You're good medicine."

  "We aim to please.,

  Uhura slid the cub off her lap. It tweeted in protest, then gave a shake,

  and flopped off to rejoin its fellows.

  "You sure have a way with those critters."

  "Anybody could have a way with them. They're the friendliest creatures I've

  ever encountered."

  "Sure would make it easy for the Klingons to move in. The little guys seem

  utterly defenseless," McCoy said as they walked back toward the tents.

  "I'm afraid they are, and I don't even like to think about what the

  Kfingons would do to this Planet. I hope the Federation makes it a

  protectorate."

  "They never take that action unless there's something particularly vital to

  preserve on the planet."

  "How about the Thygetians? Aren't they particularly vital?" Uhura said as

  they stopped in front of Mashn's tent.

  "Th you and me maybe, but probably not to some bureaucrat back on Earth.

  They tend to think only in terms of tangibles."

  "And music isn't much of a tangible," Uhura said as she unsealed the flap.

  "See you later, Doctor," she added as she ducked into the tent.

  McCoy stared at the silver surface of the tent, and wondered what she was

  going to do in there. Probably just watch him sleep, he concluded. He

  frowned and turned away, wondering what the. outcome of this attachment was

  going to be.

  He saw Spock and his party on the outskirts of the camp, and he went to

  meet them. Spock's lips were pressed into a, thin fine, and he strode along

  at a great rate, leaving the

  smaller humans behind.

  "You look grim," McCoy said, falling into step with him. "What's the

  trouble?"

  "Hunters, Doctor. I must report to the captain at once.119

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  He ffipped out his communicator, and within moments had vanished. McCoy

  stood irresolutely in the middle of the camp, and wondered if he too ought

  to return to the Enterprise. Before he could make up his mind there was the

  hum of a transporter, and Riley sparkled into view.

  "Grand Central Station," McCoy muttered under his breath.

  "Hi, doc. Where's Mr. Scott?"

  "He was here a minute ago. There's so much comin, and goin' in this place

  that a man can hardly---?'

  "Thanks," Riley said, ignoring the rest of McCoy's remarks, and chugging

  off in search of the chief engineer.

  McCoy, who had a fine sense of knowing when things were happening, trailed

  after him. They found Scotty hunkered down in front of one of the smallest

/>   cubs, honking at the Singer with his bagpipes, and then recording the

  creature's responses.

  "Come on, wee beasty, can't you make the same sound twice running?" Scotty

  said, staring at the readings on his tricorder. "How are we going to learn

  your language if you keep using only new words?"

  "Mr. 43cott.11

  "Aye, Riley, what is it?" he asked, straightening up with a grunt.

  "I know you put me in charge, sir, and I hate to run to you the first time

  I have a problem, but this one is frankly beyond me. Even the captain

  hasn't been able to help.-

  "Well spit it out, lad. What seems to be the trouble?"

  "It's the dilithium crystals, sir."

  "Dilithium crystals," he repeated ominously. Yes, sir. They're decaying,

  sir."

  "Decayingl" Scotty yelped. "What the hell have ye been doin' up there?"

  "Nothing, sir. That's what's so frustrating. There's just been this slow

  but steady drain on the power. We've checked and rechecked every circuit,

  and it shouldn't be happening.-

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  "Have you at least got a theory, boy?" Scotty demanded over his shoulder as

  he gathered up his equipment, and marched for his tent.

  "Yes, sir. I think it has something to do with that phenomenon.99

  'Me engineer stopped, and stared at Riley. "Why couldn't you have come up

  with something simpler, lad?"

  "Sorry, sir, but I call 'em like I see 'em.

  "Donovan!" Scotty bawled.

  The young biologist cAme charging out of his tent. "Sir!"

  "See to it that my things get beamed back aboard the Enterprise. "

  "Yes, Sir."

  "And tell ... no, never mind. I'd best tell him myself." He crossed to

  Maslin's tent, and stepped inside.

  Uhura rose quickly from the stool where she had been sitting. "Scotty, what

  is it?9'

  "Trouble, lass. I've got to get back aboard the Enterprise.

  '.Klingons?"

  "No, engineering problem. I just stopped in to tell Mr. Maslin."

  "Don't wake him, I'll tell him later."

  "Tell me what later?" Guy said, pushing up on one elbow, and regarding

  Scotty out of one bleary eye.

  "I've got to go back to the Enterprise."

  "Isn't this a little sudden?"

  "There's a problem with our power source. I've got to get it fted. ' 9

  "I had understood that solving the puzzle of the Thygetian song was first

  priority for this mission, Mr. Scott. It just becomes that much harder if

  I lose people."

  "No, Mr. Maslin. Keeping the ship running is first priority-,,

  "Is it as serious as all that?"

  "If the dilithium crystals decay far we won't be able to fight or run if

  the Klingons decide to get ugly."

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  The Tears of the Singers

  Maslin sat up fully in bed. "Then by all means go, Mr. Scott, and with my

  blessings."

  "I thought you'd see it my way."

  "Artistic temperament notwithstanding, I'm a man of extraordinarily good

  sense. You take care of our defense. We'll handle things on this end."

  Scotty turned and headed out of the tent. "I've got to get to work. With

  Scott leaving we've got to pick up the slack," he heard Maslin say.

  "Dr. McCoy wanted you to rest. A few more hours isn't going to make that

  much difference," Uhura remonstrated with him. The failing tent flap cut

  off Maslin's reply.

  Another anguished cry wailed down from the crystal cliffs, and Kali covered

  her ears with her hands. As the last echo died, and the cubs began their

  mournful dirge, Kali marched to her tent, and emerged moments later,

  strapping on her disruptor.

  Quarag looked up from a set of readings he had taken. "What are you doing?"

  he demanded.

  "Going to put a stop to this. If the Earthers are too cowardly, I am most

  certainly not!"

  "They're just stupid animals. What do you care?"

  "They are not animals, and they are not stupid, and I will not allow them

  to be slaughtered," she yelled over her shoulder as she headed out of camp.

  "You come back here! I have not given you permission to leave the camp!"

  "So report me."

  "I will! I am in command here!"

  "If you say so," Kali said wearily, and loped down the hill with her black

  hair streaming behind her.

  "I can't stand it!" Quarag howled, and Bung his readouts onto the ground,

  where they were immediately whirled away by the brisk wind that was blowing

  in off the ocean. "Report her, you better believe I'll report her," he

  muttered to Jennas. "There must be someone who can control her."

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  "If you think it's her husband, think again," Jennas snorted. "The old

  man's lost his touch. He's soft on Earthers, and scared of a fight."

  "Maybe, maybe not," Quarag said cautiously, remembering all the times that

  Kor had resisted threats to his command. "Anyway, I'm tired of dealing with

  her. Let him come down, and try to make her behave."

  "Soft, soft on women too," Jermas mumbled into his cup of quavas, the hot,

  spicy Klingon brew.

  "Oh shut up! He's probably not too soft to use the agonizer on you if he

  hears you carrying on." Quarag pulled out his communicator and signaled the

  ship.

  Kali strode briskly down the beach and wondered why men were such fools.

  Fbr a solid day the men of her race and the humans had dithered and debated

  while the slaughter went on. She and Uhura had encountered one another on

  the beach, and in a brief and hurried conversation had agreed that murder

  was too good for the hunters-castration seemed a more attractive prospect.

  Unfortunately neither of them was in command so the talk went on, and the

  Taygetians died and the cubs sang their mournful dirge until she had

  decided she could no longer stand it.

  She was passing by the opening into the humans' sheltered cove, and she

  momentarily considered stopping to see if Uhura wanted to join her. She

  hesitated, nervously twining a lock of hair between her fingers, then

  decided against it. She liked the woman, it was true, but she was still an

  Earther, and it was probably not wise to put too much reliance on her.

  Having an armed human at her back was not something she could view with

  equanimity no matter how pleasant she might seem to be. She tossed her hair

  over her shoulder, and continued her march to the hunters' camp.

  The camp was deserted when she arrived. She glanced about, evaluating the

  positions of the tents, rocks, and noting possible approaches to the

  campsite. She then took up a position against a tall boulder which afforded

  her a clear view

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  and angle of fire into the entire camp, and had the added benefit of

  protecting her back. She settled down to wait.

  She smelled them almost as soon as she heard them. There was always a

  subtly different scent about the humans, but the people from the Enterprise

  seemed to make a habit of bathing and the odor was bearable. The men who

  came stomping and shouting into the camp obviously did not share this

  habit, and the rank and alien odor of th
em washed over her almost like a

  physical wave. Her nostrils pinched fastidiously together, and she hefted

  her disruptor, testing the balance. For a moment the hunters didn't notice

  her, and she had ample time to study them. What she saw made her begin to

  wish that she had not come alone to confront therri, for they were large,

  brutish men with a look about them that she could only describe as

  threatening. She reminded herself that she was a Klingon and an officer,

  and she stepped into a defensive firing position.

  One of the men, who had a lean, whippetlike body, dropped his pack. As he

  straightened he found himself staring down the barrel of Kali's disruptor.

  He placed his hands on his hips, and rocked back on his heels giving an

  appreciative whistle.

  "Well, well," he drawled. "Look what's come to visit." His three companions

  whirled, and moved in to form a loose semicircle around the woman.

  "She's a Klingon," one of them muttered out of the comer of his mouth.

  "Why so she is," the biggest man said, leaning forward to peer at her.

  "I've never seen a Klingon woman before." He grinned. It was a feral, ugly

  expression. "Course, if they're all as pretty as you are, little lady, I

  can see why your men keep you hidden away."

  These were humans as she had been taught to expect them, and she felt her

  mouth go dry. She forced herself to swallow, and took a firmer grip on the

  weapon. "I will not waste time with you," she called. "You will stop the

  hunting or I will kill

  you.11

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  "Oooh, she's a dangerous as well as a pretty little filly," the big man

  cooed, looking about at his companions. They laughed, and Kali felt the

  blood rise in her cheeks. She fired, sending a spray of sand into the air

  directly in front of the leader. The laughter cut off as abruptly as if

  they'd been throttled.

  "Now that I have your attention again," she said smoothly, .,we will

  discuss my proposal." Excitement and a sense of power coursed through her,

  and she began to enjoy the situation.

  Suddenly a rock grazed past her head, cutting open her ear, and expkxiing

  in a burst of crystal fragments on the boulder behind her. She cried out

 

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