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

bound straight for Lieutenant Plait’s neck.
    There was no time to think, no time to plan. McCoy sprang straight at Plait, aiming to tackle him with a hard strike to the midsection. Gravity did the rest, and both men immediately tumbled to the ground, landing in an awkward tangle. Aside from the blunt pain of the impact, McCoy felt only the wind of the blade’s too-close-for-comfort passage.
    McCoy quickly rolled into a sitting position and saw that Plait was trying—and failing—to perform the same maneuver. Fortunately, the inebriated science officer didn’t appear to have sustained any obvious injuries as yet.
    A quick sideways glance confirmed that the young Capellan warrior was already poised for a second lunge. Though the interplay of light and shadow from the festival fires partially obscured his hulking shape, the flickering effect only emphasized the swordsman’s lethality, from his weird battle grimace to the tip of the blade he was pointing straight at Plait’s heart.
    Addressing Plait with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder, the Capellan said, “Earthman, I am pleased that you have accepted my gift. To my knowledge, you are the first of your kind to do this. I will thank you now, because I may not have another opportunity later.”
    â€œWhu?” Plait said, still on the ground and working hard to catch his breath.
    McCoy got back to his feet. A couple of cautious, unsteady steps placed him precisely between the Capellan and his intended victim.
    â€œWhat the hell are you talking about? What ‘gift’ do you think Mister Plait has accepted?”
    A bemused frown replaced the Capellan’s death’s-head smile. “Why, the gift of combat, of course.”
    â€œAs far as I can tell, all he accepted was a damned snack!” McCoy shouted, throwing both hands into the air.
    â€œI do not understand,” the warrior said. “Your friend accepted that which my sister offered him, did he not?”
    This was just getting weirder and weirder. McCoy gestured toward Jeen and Naheer, both of whom were watching from several meters away. Jeen was still holding the fruit basket.
    â€œShe’s your sister ?”
    The warrior nodded. “I am Huuk. As Jeen’s elder brother, my blood is closer to hers than the blood of any other. That is why the duty of granting the gift of combat to her suitors has fallen upon me.”
    Damn , McCoy thought, wondering briefly if Doctor Wieland had covered the present situation in any of his recent endless memoranda. If he has, that’ll teach me to keep up with my homework on Capellan cultural quirks.
    Pushing the doctor aside as though he weighed nothing, Huuk stepped toward Plait, who had yet to get back on his feet or fully recover his wind. Extending one huge arm downward, the warrior hoisted the surprised and gasping science officer back to a standing position.
    â€œNow,” Huuk said. “I must resume bestowing my gift of combat upon you.”
    I have to stop this somehow , McCoy thought. Unfortunately, he had no laser; Subteer Usaak had confiscated it. He reached reflexively for his communicator but stopped himself, recalling that the landing party’s communicators had been taken along with the lasers. Besides, the Yegorov couldn’t come to the rescue even if he’d had a communicator; she wasn’t due to return to the Capella system for another three months or so.
    But maybe there was another option. He glanced down at the small, unobtrusive pouch on his hip. All right , he thought. Lemons into lemonade it is.
    McCoy rushed over to Naheer and Jeen, both of whom looked startled when he reached into the fruit basket and snatched up several random pieces of polychrome fruit.
    Huuk’s little sister got over her surprise in time to favor him with a sultry smile.
    I hope I live to regret this , he thought.
    Then he turned around and marched back toward the sword-swinging