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

“extremely,” at least in McCoy’s estimation.
    Because of the patriarchal nature of Capellan culture—the landing party members had been selected very deliberately so as not to offend that particular native sensibility—none of the Starfleet men present had glimpsed such a large assemblage of native women since they’d left the Yegorov .
    The orderly, almost pageant-like procession of brightly colored tunics and furs, heavy war boots, and long, diaphanous gowns must have represented every clan in the valley, and perhaps even points far beyond. All the while, a dozen or so of Usaak’s hunter-warriors continued sparring in the background, working in disciplined pairs in the scrub-covered vale about one hundred meters past the nearest fire pit. Save for the loud staccato clashing of their swords and knives and the THUNK s their hard-hurled kligats made against the tree trunks, the blade wielders maintained a grim, purposeful silence as they worked their way through a balletically complex series of combat maneuvers.
    This display was no doubt intended, at least in part, to remind everyone of Usaak’s authority and power in this particular region of the continent. All this saber-rattling and swordplay , McCoy thought. It certainly explains why so few of these people ever make it to a ripe old age.
    â€œHave you noticed all the women, Doc?” Plait said quietly.
    â€œI’m a doctor, not a monk,” McCoy said, grinning. “Of course I noticed.”
    Unfortunately, the presence of so many attractive young women—the preponderance of whom appeared to be somewhere in their early to middle twenties—only served to remind the doctor of the two particular females from whom he had become so painfully alienated.
    Jocelyn , he thought, suddenly overcome by a sense of deep desolation. And Joanna.
    But even now McCoy still clung to the hope of patching things up with his wife and daughter. All he needed was to restore his self-confidence. And though the Capellan tribesmen still remained suspicious of the medical arts he and Wieland offered, the few powders and potions the Canyonfolk had accepted so far—a liquid hay-fever remedy here, a powdered hangover cure there—McCoy believed that his work on this planet was starting to give him just the boost he needed, psychologically speaking.
    â€œDon’t the Capellan men usually keep their women out of sight?” Girard said, interrupting the doctor’s unwonted reverie.
    â€œ ‘In the rear, with the gear,’ as Lieutenant Shellenbarger would say,” McCoy said with a nod. “Understandable, especially in a patriarchal society like this one.”
    â€œBut they’ve obviously made an exception tonight,” Girard said. “What’s the occasion?”
    Plait frowned at the geologist. “Maybe you should spend a little less time obsessing over your topaline maps and a little more keeping up with the briefings. Subteer Usaak is not only the Canyonfolk Tribe’s highest-ranking leader, he’s also its most eligible bachelor. If you’re this high on the Capellan social ladder, this is how you get a courtship off the ground.”
    The commander displayed a look of dawning understanding. “So Mister Usaak is holding auditions for a prospective Missus Usaak? And here I thought this was supposed to be the annual festival honoring the Capellan god of thunder and lightning and fur capes.”
    â€œGaar, the Skyfather,” Plait corrected. “And don’t forget Baan, the Skyfather’s only son.” He pointed to a prominent pair of red stars that had risen over the horizon. McCoy recognized the larger of the two stars as Capella C, and the smaller as Capella D.
    â€œThe natives have named those two bright stars after Gaar and Baan, the father and the son,” the science officer continued. “They throw a special feast in their honor every year at this time. It’s a