Star Trek - TOS - The Tears Of The Singers

by Melinda Snodgrass

  "This computer was acting as a link between the Enterprise's computer and

  the synthesizer. It may be possible to reactivate the link with the

  Enterprise, and determine how the battle is going. I could use the

  communicators," he said, answering her unspoken question. "But it would

  distract the captain, and that I will not do."

  Kali drifted over to join them, and soon Ragsdale and Brentano had gathered

  about Spock, waiting tensely while he worked. There was a flicker of color,

  and then the display screen of the synthesizer lit up with a strange

  elongated view of the main screen of the Enterprise. They watched in

  silence for several moments, trying to make sense out of what they were

  seeing. Then Kali exclaimed, "There are three cruisers present. Where did

  the third one come from?"

  Spock's face tightened into even grimmer lines, and he began to punch a

  request for data into the computer. There was a whir and a chatter, and

  then the cold, impersonal female voice of the computer began to speak.

  "Screens down fifty-two percent. Phasers operating at one-third normal

  power, maneuverability reduced by sixtyone percent due to--!'

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  "Stop!" Spock ordered. "Calculate maximum operating time remaining for

  affected systems."

  "Working. 11

  Tension was turning his head and neck into a mass of pain, and he bitterly

  regretted the series of circumstances which had left him trapped helplessly

  here on the planet's surface while far overhead, in the frigid darkness of

  space, his captain battled for his life. Mendez was very young and

  inexperienced and might be unable to provide Kirk with the sort of

  split-second information he would require if the Enterprise was to survive

  this encounter.

  Suddenly he balled up one fist, and drove it into the protective crate that

  had held the synthesizer on its journey to the planet. The metal crumpled

  beneath the power of his Vulcan assault, and the other people around him

  jumped nervously. It had been an action beyond his own volition, and after

  he made it he immediately regretted the emotional display. He arranged his

  face into its usual expression of bland impassivity, and returned his

  attention to the display screen, watching as the picture from the

  Enterprise buckled and wavered under the pounding the ship was enduring.

  McCoy, accompanied by a shaky Maslin, joined the rest of the landing party.

  Maslin slowly walked to Uhura, and stood gazing thoughtfully at her.

  "I didn't appreciate what you did," he said at last.

  "I didn't think you would."

  "Then why did you do it?"

  .,To protect you.9'

  "But they killed Donovan and the cub," he said miserably. "And I wanted to

  do something."

  He had that little-boy-lost look again, and Uhura felt her heart go out to

  him. No doubt this was the first time he had ever seen death, and she could

  still remember her own shock and confusion when, after a-pitched battle

  against rebels on Wynet V, she had found herself staring down at the

  twisted body of the captain of the small cruiser that had been her first

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  -assigmnent out of the academy. She reached out to him and, folding her arms

  around his thin form, pulled him tight against her body.

  "I've made Yeoman Chou as comfortable as possible, but she really needs to

  be in sick bay," McCoy announced to Spock, pulling the Vulcan's attention

  away from the compuscroen on the synthesizer.

  "Regretfully, Doctor, that is not an option that is at present open to us.

  'I

  "Why? What's going on?" Maslin asked, lifting his head from Uhura's

  shoulder.

  "How do you feel about becoming a lost human colony?" Ragsdale grunted

  before Spock had a chance to reply.

  "Why? What is it?" the composer demanded again.

  'The Enterprise is under heavy attack," Kali said quietly, "and it seems

  unlikely she can survive. Your brilliant captain notwithstanding," she

  quickly added, to soothe the humans Who Were already starting to bristle at

  her unconscious slur of Kirk.

  "I don't think your visions of a pastoral existence are likely, Mr.

  Ragsdale," Spock said dryly. "If the Enterprise is destroyed we will then

  be captured or killed by the remaining Kfingons."

  Everyone stood clumped in miserable silence, and watched the events

  unfolding on the screen. Suddenly the computer stopped its steady

  chattering and announced, "Time to full Systems failure--nineteen minutes,

  seven seconds."

  There was a stir from the assembled people, but no one spoke. There really

  wasn't anything to say.

  Kirk, like his first officer, was also aware of the steady loss Of

  essential systems. He kept one eye on the tiny readout on the arm of his

  chair, and one eye on the screen, hying to keep one jump ahead of their

  attackers.

  The Enterprise shuddered and bucked under another blast of deadly disruptor

  fire, and people went sprawling in all

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  directions. Kor grabbed the arm of Kirk's chair, and pulled himself to his

  feet.

  "Perhaps you ought to consider heading in another direction," he said

  softly into Kirk's ear. "The captains of those other ships are beginning to

  hit more often because they know where you are heading."

  "I too know where I'm heading, and I have no intention of wasting power in

  useless maneuverings."

  "You mean you have a plan?"

  Kirk winced a bit, and even managed a smile at the unconscious and

  incredulous emphasis. "Yes, Commander, I actually have a plan." And he

  turned his attention back to the screen.

  He was grateful when Kor stepped silently back to his position behind the

  command chair, for he didn't want to elaborate upon his plan-he didn't much

  like it himself, but he could see no alternative. Never, in all his years

  of narrow escapes and tight spots, had he viewed suicide as the only

  option, but now he had reached that decision. He knew that the Klingons

  could not be permitted to take and enslave the Thygetians, and use their

  awesome power against the Federation. He also knew that the Klingons would

  be unable to mount another expedition to Thygeta. before the phenomenon

  consumed the Singers' sun, and they went down into a cold, dark and silent

  death. It seemed a cruel solution, but at least the people of hundreds of

  other worlds would be safe from the Thygetian power in Klingon hands.

  Having recognized all this, his only remaining duty was to remove the

  Klingon cruisers.

  That the Enterprise and all her crew had to be sacrificed in the process

  almost gagged him, but he held firm to his duty. His only problem now would

  be tricking the Klingons into following him in this last dangerous gamble.

  The second planet in the Thygetian system loomed up on the screen. Kirk

  sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment while he took a last fond

  look about the bridge of his 208

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  ship, and the people who had been
his comrades for so many years.

  "Mr. Sulu, drop all shields, and channel the power directly to the engines.

  Mr. Chekov, please do the same with the phaser banks. Then Mr. Sulu, build

  up full speed and take us right over the top of that planet, and drop us

  down the other side."

  "But Captain," Mr. Scott began as he took a half step toward Kirk.

  The Captain held up one hand to forestall him. "Please, Scotty, give me

  everything you've got."

  "But it will horribly overload the crystals!" he said, his accent thick

  with distress. "It may even shatter them!"

  "It won't matter once we clear the planet," Kirk said quietly, and Kor

  stared at him in amazement and admiration.

  "The phenomenon. You are going to take us into the phenomenon, and like

  hounds after a hare they will follow us in before they realize what is

  happening."

  "That is the general idea, yes." There was a murmur from the bridge crew,

  quickly silenced.

  "Transfers complete, Captain," Sulu sang out after receiving a confirming

  nod from a white-faced Chekov.

  "Full power on my command." Kirk tensely watched -the screen, waiting until

  the Klingons were virtually within range and rushing carelessly forward,

  emboldened by the loss of their enemy's shields. "Now!" he shouted, and

  brought his hand down as if signaling the start of a race.

  The Enterprise leaped like a startled deer, and raced for the planet. Sulu

  sent her skimming over the barren surface, not wasting speed or time by

  making a large arc. Then they were over the other side, and the luminescent

  tendrils from the space/time warp drifted about them.

  Kirk heard a sound like delicate chiming bells, and in the next instant

  tasted the same sound. He shook his head, trying to keep his mind clear as

  it was overloaded with a barrage of bizarre and alien sensations. All

  around him people began to

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  lose control. Some giggled and capered about the bridge, while others stared

  in rapt contemplation of something only they could see.

  The instruments on the bridge began to glow with a pale, multicolored

  witch's fire that danced along the floor and ceiling in time to that

  strange and beautiful chiming. Everything was beginning to warp and fade,

  and Kirk realized he had lost touch with his own body. Ae could see it

  seated there in the insubstantial command chair, but he wasn't there.

  "Captain," he heard Kor say softly. "It was a privilege to know you. You

  are worthy to be a Klingon." And then they were gone.

  210

  Chapter Thirteen

  Spock stared down at the now blank screen. Ifis shoulders and neck were

  rigid with tension, and his hands slowly tightened on the edge of the

  synthesizer, leaving deep gouges from the pressure of his Vulcan fingers.

  Maslin instinctively reached out and, grabbing Spock by one wrist, tried to

  pull his hand away. This touch seemed to bring the Vulcan back to himself.

  He straightened slowly, almost painfully, and turned to face the

  white-faced landing party.

  "Where have they gone, Mr. Spock?" Uhura asked, her voice small with shock

  and anguish.

  "Who can say, Lieutenant?" He looked back at the blank, gray synthesizer

  screen. "Perhaps into an alternate universe, or perhaps they are still in

  our universe, but in an altered state.9'

  "Any chance of your miraculous captain pulling the ship out of this one?"

  Maslin asked. The words were sarcastic; the tone wasn't.

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  "No," came Spock's blunt, hope-killing reply.

  Kali stood off to one side of the humans, her arms wrapped tightly about

  her body as if she feared that if she let go she would fly into a million

  pieces. Her face was impassive, but her eyes were wells of anguish. Uhura

  stepped to her side, and placed a comforting hand on the other woman's

  shoulder.

  "At least he did not die at Karsul's hands," Kali whispered, forcing the

  words past stiff lips. "He would have liked the way your captain lured them

  in after him. To die in such a heroic fashion would have . . ." Her control

  broke, and she began to cry in small, almost silent little sobs that

  nonetheless shook her slender body with their muted violence.

  "Are they dead?" Maslin asked bluntly.

  "I don't think so," Spock replied, but he forbore to give his reason for

  this belief. It was so illogical that he aftnost cringed when he admitted

  it to himself. Still, it could not be denied that somewhere deep within

  himself he believed that Kirk still lived. That powerful bond that held him

  to his captain was still there, and he believed, however foolish it might

  seem, that that bond would not be broken until death claimed one of them.

  Maslin dug his hands into his pockets and, narrowing his eyes, stared up

  the glittering cliffs to where the Singers still continued their

  world-spanning song. He suddenly whirled, and. sliding onto the bench began

  to bring up the synthesizer.

  "What are you doing?" Spock asked, looking down into the small man's

  intense white face.

  "ne Thygetians have the power to manipulate matter, possibly even time and

  space in some way we don't understand. So let's get them to bring back the

  Enterprise for us."

  "You cannot be serious. We have no evidence that the Thygetians possess

  such a power."

  The composer shifted on the bench to stare challengingly up at the Vulcan.

  "And we have no evidence that they can't,

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  so I suggest we try it. It's better than sitting here passively waiting to

  die."

  McCoy stepped into the conversation. "You know what I told you in the tent.

  The disease is beginning to flare again. You try a stunt like this and you

  will die."

  "Doctor, we're all going to die if we don't do something. 'Mat phenomenon

  is only a few hundred kilometers from the sun. If it goes we'll all

  die-you, me, the Taygetians, everyone!"

  "What makes you think you can succeed now when every other attempt has

  failed?" Spock asked.

  "Fear," Maslin said succinctly. "It's a pretty damn good motivator for a

  creative insight."

  "That is not logical."

  "Yes, and that's why I'm a musician, and you're not. In spite of your great

  technical ability you could never be an artist, because at base, once -all

  the mathematics and the theory is removed there is only art, and that comes

  from the soul and the heart, not the mind. " He made a few more adjustments

  with the synthesizer, and fed back in the Taygetian language program that

  he and Spock had so laboriously created. "I understand most of the basic

  grammar and vocabulary now so our only problem is finding a way to talk to

  them--to make them understand."

  "Sounds like a mighty long shot," McCoy said quietly.

  "It is, but Doctor, it's the only shot we've got." He began to play, a

  hauntingly beautiful improvisation based on the Thygetian song, and the

  cubs returned, drawn as he had known they would be by the heartrending

&
nbsp; music.

  Uhura stood rigidly at Kati's side, watching the play of Maslin's long

  fingers across the keyboards, the way muscles and tendons tightened in his

  neck when he threw back his head and half closed his eyes as he

  concentrated on the music he was creating. She had seen McCoy remonstrating

  with the composer, and she knew with a deadly certainty what had 213

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  been said. She had also seen Maslin's dismissive gesture, and h er heart and

  mind were filled with an anguish so great that it was almost a physical

  pain.

  No, pkase no, she thought frantically. She wanted to rush to his side, beg

  him not to make this effort, but she knew it was useless. Men like Kirk, or

  Maslin, or Spock followed only the dictates of their consciences, and acted

  upon their own driving codes of honor and duty. Pleas about love and need

  could distress and upset them, but never, never turn them from that sacred

  dream that they all served in varying ways.

  "Sometimes I think it is a curse to love such men," Kali said softly. The

  Klingon woman had recovered herself, and now stood once more proud and

  controlled at Uhura's side.

  "And you would know, don't you?"

  64,Oklas, yes- 29

  "And how do you handle it?"

  "By loving and supporting him, and praying to the gods to return him safe

  to me when he has finished following his dreams."

  "But why must our dreams always be so different?" Uhura whispered

  miserably.

  "Go to him, give him what help you can," Kali said softly, and gave Uhura

  a gentle shove. Uhura walked quickly to the synthesizer and, standing

  behind Maslin, placed her hands possessively on his shoulders. He threw her

  a quick smile and returned to his music, and she stood quietly holding him

  as if by her very physical presence she could keep him safe.

  Kali watched for several moments, then walked away to sit quietly staring

  out to sea while the song wove its mysterious pattern about her, and

  brought some measure of ease to her wounded heart.

  "Respondl God damn you! Why won't you respond!" Guy suddenly shouted while

  beating his fists desperately on the edge of the synthesizer.