Star Trek: The Original Series: Seasons of Light and Darkness by Michael A. Martin Read Free Book Online Page A

“Ugh. That does it, Doc. Next time I get some extended shore leave, I’m going to take it on Vulcan. I know I won’t have to deal with any carnivores there.”
    McCoy could sympathize. Like some of his colleagues, Girard had begun this mission all but unable to remember the last time he’d eaten anything that hadn’t come from a food slot in the Yegorov ’s galley. The sight and smell of large animal carcasses being slowly flame-roasted was utterly alien to the young geologist’s everyday experience.
    â€œSince we’re guests of this planet’s dominant carnivores, Lieutenant,” the doctor said, “let’s not go out of our way to offend them by complaining.”
    Plait nodded. “Good point, Doc. For all we know, the Capellans see vegetarianism and veganism the same way the Vulcans see the practice of eating meat.”
    â€œIs it really that easy to violate these people’s taboos?” Girard looked surprised.
    â€œDoctor Wieland seems to think so,” Plait said. “Haven’t you kept up with that staff etiquette manual he’s been compiling over the past few weeks?”
    Girard scoffed gently. “That would be a full-time job in itself. I’ve been mapping this planet’s extensive topaline reserves. I’d rather put my trust in common sense and let the soft-science types fret about the correct handling of the pickle forks.”
    McCoy coughed to suppress a laugh. He didn’t want to admit it in front of senior officers, but over the past week or so he too had fallen a bit behind in reading Wieland’s cultural protocol updates.
    â€œTo common sense,” Plait said. After a brief pause to take another quaff from his tankard, he added, “Speaking of which, Mohammed, maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty about planning your next shore leave. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself craving Texas-style barbecue while you’re on Vulcan? You’d suddenly discover that you’re over sixteen light-years too far south.”
    â€œTouché,” Girard said.
    Night had begun to fall in earnest, and warriors were lighting strategically placed braziers. The festival area was already beginning to bask in a warm, golden-orange glow.
    The three men fell into a companionable silence, which allowed McCoy to focus his attention on the massive animal that was roasting over the nearest fire pit. It revolved on a spit, turning slowly over the flames, the metronomic precision of its motion regulated by a pair of thick-thewed, soot-dusted warriors who seemed utterly absorbed in their task. The sheer size and heft of the beast would have been impressive even in light of the typical Capellan’s larger-than-human proportions. But bagging this creature, whose considerable mass belied its sleek, leonine shape, must have been a very risky endeavor. The half dozen or so sharp spikes that lined the creature’s backbone might have given pause to even the largest and strongest of Usaak’s warrior-hunters.
    Despite the sear-marks that covered its flesh and its lack of fur and skin, McCoy noticed the animal’s close resemblance to the creature that had jumped him during the landing party’s fateful first day on the planet’s surface.
    Lightningbeast, I presume , he thought. And they’re cooking up at least three of ’em at once. Usaak’s really pulling out all the stops tonight.
    Looking beyond the fire pit, McCoy watched as still more people filed into the festival area. Rank upon rank of majestic, extraordinarily proportioned Capellans, their ages spanning a bell curve that ran all the way from early adolescence to late middle age, were arranging themselves in orderly semicircles as they stood around the fire pit closest to McCoy and his comrades. At least sixty percent of the several dozen new arrivals were female—young women whose attractiveness ranged from “very” to