The Original Series
Morning Star - Part 15
by Dave K. Jones
(sonirj1@yahoo.com)

Morning Star

Chapter 50

Satariano listened intently to a replay of the message from the Planet of Morning. He didn't understand it, which was no surprise. He might be able to read the printed form, but this was the first time he had ever heard a cuneiform language spoken. It wouldn't take long to learn to speak it, should he ever get the chance to work with some living members of that culture! To Jim Kirk he gave an apologetic look. "I don't understand it, Captain, sorry. Given the chance, I'm confident I could learn it in a relatively short time!"

The message from the surface had eased after three repetitions. Even though Enterprise continued to send friendship messages there had been no further response. Kirk turned to Uhura. "Try that new linguacode that Star Fleet is experimenting with. See if that works."

Uhura complied. The Enterprise had recently been supplied with programming for the linguacode. It was a communications format that was designed to be understandable by any technologically advanced intelligence. At least, that was what the experts back in the laboratories hoped. While they waited for some response from the planet Satariano stepped closer to the command chair. "Captain, the universal translator will work if we can beam down and make physical contact with these people!"

Kirk gave the priest a searching look. Satariano, he knew, was eager to discover additional evidence to support his own hypothesis that various cultures on widely spaced planets had a common origin. It would be a great step forward in the science of xenoarchaeology, anthrpology, and sociology if he were able to establish a link other than having to fall back on the unproved and almost mythical explanations involving the "Preservers", or the "Parallel Evolution" theories.

"I'm aware of that, Commander," said Kirk, "But that will have to wait until we know more about what's down there!" He turned toward the science station. "And just in case we do decide to send down a team, I'd like recommendations on appropriate beam-down sites, Mr. Spock!"

Spock nodded. "Yes, Captain. However, it is prudent to point out that any abrupt, unannounced, contact with these people might do far more harm than good! It might be a violation of the Prime Directive!"

Kirk glanced in McCoy's direction, half expecting the doctor to fly into an anti-logic tirade, but the doctor only shook his head and turned. In fact, McCoy had said little since Spock's announcement that he should limit his participation to sick bay. Back at Spock, Kirk said, "I think that will prove to be a chance we'll have to take, Spock. What about the sites?"

Turning back to his science console, Spock quickly touched a number of buttons and data flashed across his screens. "There are three possible sites. Each is in the immediate vicinity of the underground facility, but materialization will not be directly in their midst. There is a small chamber at the bottom of an elevator shaft from the surface, a room within the building containing the elevator on the surface of the ice, and an inner chamber that separates the inhabited areas of the facility from the base of the elevator shaft. It may be some kind of airlock."

"Captain, we're getting a response from the surface!" said Uhura. She paused for a moment, listening, then said, "The response is the exact same linguacode message we just sent, sir!"

Spock's eyebrows went up. "Signal strength is fixed and steady, Captain."

Satariano said, "I think it might be their way of telling us we're welcome!"

Kirk nodded. "That may be, Commander, but despite my natural inclination to rush down there and see what we find, there is a higher priority to consider: the safety of this ship and the people on it!" To Spock he asked, "Any sensor indication of anything out of the ordinary, Spock?" He immediately regretted his words.

Spock gave him a questioning look. "Out of the ordinary, sir? There are no referents with which to make a comparison!"

Kirk rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry, Spock, for stumbling over my emotional foibles. What I meant to ask was if the sensors detect anything that would pose a threat to a landing party."

"Nothing detected within parameters, Captain, but that's no guarantee!"

"And what would you consider the prudent next step to be, Spock?" Kirk asked.

Spock steepled his fingers, a favorite gesture of the Vulcan's, Kirk knew, that indicated Spock's mind was humming like a buzz saw. "Despite the possible risks, Captain, the only logical choice is to beam down and investigate this facility."

Kirk got out of the command chair and headed for the turbolift. "Mr. Scott, you have the con. Doctor, Commander Satariano, please accompany myself and Mr. Spock. Uhura, advise environmental that we need Class A suits again!"

The turbolift doors closed behind the three men. Scott, already in the command chair, turned toward the science station. "Mr. Grimes, I want a continuous scan of surrounding space. If so much as a dust grain changes course I wanna know about it bonny quick!"

While a technician assisted him into his suit, Nicholas Satariano looked at the other men in the landing party. The same somewhat humorous, somewhat serious, thought occurred to him that had also occurred prior to their first trip to this planet's surface. "Captain, if we are lucky enough to confront some real survivors, it would be unfortunate if they were scared out of their wits by our appearance in these suits!"

Everyone stopped working and looked in Satariano's direction. He saw concern in their expressions. Finally Spock said, "That is a logical possibility, Commander, but unavoidable under the circumstances!"

Satariano shrugged. "What about beaming down without suits? It seems safe enough!"

McCoy shook his head emphatically. "No way, Nicholas! We have no idea what airborne agents might be floating around just waiting for someone to invade."

"But, Spock said the sensors didn't indicate anything hostile to us!" said Satariano, nearly stumbling over as a technician fastened a heavy utility belt around his waist.

"The sensors are not conclusive, Commander," said Spock. "It is standard safety procedure to do a thorough analysis of the atmosphere first before risking the lives of the crew!" He gave McCoy a look. "I'm sure our Chief Medical Officer will concur."

McCoy grunted.

"At any rate, it's something we'll just have to deal with when it confronts us-or them," concluded Kirk as he plodded heavily over to his transporter pad. The others followed when their technicians finished with the complicated process of closing their suits and activating all suit systems. When they were all positioned, Kirk gave his last instructions. "Remember, phasers on light stun only! I don't want anything to foul up this contact! Make no sudden moves when we first see them, and be sure your suit translators are turned on before we beam down!"

Everyone spent a moment to go over his suit systems one more time. Then Kirk said, "I don't have to tell you how important this is, so remember we're barging in on people who've had their fair share of tragedy and fright. They may not be ready to roll out the red carpet!"

He turned his attention to the ensign on duty at the transporter station. "Keep your sensors locked on our suit beacons at all times, Mr. Haines, and be ready to pull us out at my order!"

"Aye, sir!" replied Haines.

"Very well. Energise!"

They materialized in a ten foot square room that was featureless except for two doors at opposite ends of the room. The walls and floor were cement that had once been painted white, but the paint was down badly crumbled and water stained, and the floor was covered with a fine grit that crunched under the soles of their boots. One of the two doors reminded Kirk of the entrance to a bank vault, the other was a simple hatchway.

"No radiation detected here, Captain", said Spock as he read the screen on his tricorder. "The temperature is forty degrees fahrenheit, the air is close to Earth normal excepting an additional .4% of hydrogen. There are no toxic substances or inimical pathogens present!"

Satariano shined his suit lamps on the ceiling. "No light fixtures either!" he said.

"This is obviously the access lock from the elevator to the surface. They did not waste time and expense on frills in a room that would never be occupied for more than a few moments at a time!" said Spock.

Kirk moved to the heavier vault-like door. The metal was shiny and smooth with no indentations or protrusions except for a wheel-like handle set in the exact center. Next to the handle was an upraised section about four inches square with push buttons inset into the surface. Each button had a cuneiform character printed on it.

Satariano moved up behind Kirk, his attention on the buttons.

"Can you read the characters?" asked Kirk.

"Yes. They are similar to capitalized letters of the English alphabet, but are more widely used. In this case they are used as single letters!"

"Captain!" said Spock, a note of warning in his voice. "I am detecting life forms as before, but motion sensors indicate movement in our specific direction. Distance is sixty meters."

Kirk felt his pulse jump. "Okay, people, they are probably expecting visitors at the upper entrance to their elevator shaft, not here in this room. Our presence is going to be a shock!"

"I suggest we angle our suit lamps away from the door when they enter so they won't be blinded!" said Satariano.

"Good idea, Commander!" replied Kirk. "And make sure of your phasers-light stun only! No sudden movements and absolutely no shooting unless we are attacked! That's an order! Anyone firing phasers, even by accident, will be up on charges!" He felt a stab of guilt at his last words, but decided to let it stand. It was a good idea to be safe, even if he sounded a little paranoid in the bargain.

"The life forms have approached to just beyond that door!" reported Spock

They stood to one side of the room with their suit lamps shining on the opposite wall. There was no way to buffer what was going to be a major surprise to these people, Kirk knew, but at least they might be seen as less of a threat by assuming a comparatively non-threatening posture.

The spin handle in the center of the inner door began to move, slowly at first, then more rapidly. The door was pushed open from the other side. When the door was half way open a man stuck his head through the opening. He saw the four suited creatures standing along one wall of the airlock and froze, his eyes as big as dinner plates. He gave a yell of surprise and jumped back, yanking the door shut again.

"Score one for our side!" said McCoy.

"Captain, what shall--?" began Satariano, but was interrupted as the door began to open again.

Widening to no more than a few inches, the four of them could see eyes peering at them from behind the portal. They also saw the snout of some sort of weapon being pointed at them. This was the critical time, thought Kirk. One foul up and the Federation Council would have a field day with court martials! In a quiet voice he said, "Spock, keep a phaser aimed only on the weapon, as narrow a beam as possible!""

They stood waiting silently, letting the Morning People make the next move. They didn't have long to wait.

The door was suddenly pushed wide and the same man, now carrying a formidable looking projectile weapon, stepped quickly through, leveling the weapon directly at them. His thumb pulled back a moveable arm at the rear of the weapon with an audible double clicking sound.

"Shit, he's getting ready to fire!" said McCoy.

"Everyone keep their cool!" rasped Kirk. Even so, he couldn't help wondering why Spock held his fire. He supposed it was due to the fact that Vulcan reflexes were faster than Human, and Spock was waiting until the last possible second.

"Captain, it will soon be necessary to shoot the weapon from his hand!" said Spock as if in response to Kirk's thoughts.

"Do so when necessary, Spock!" said Kirk. He was placing more faith than anyone would ever know in the judgment of his Vulcan friend.

For the first time they were able to get a good look at the Morning Person. His clothing was nothing more than a loose fitting pair of trousers with a draw string instead of a belt, and a pull over tunic that had about as much shape as a gunny sack. The material had a rough looking texture, and a faded yellow color. The man stood about six feet tall and appeared about middle age. His face had a sallow, almost pasty, with stringy black hair and watery blue eyes. His appearance made Kirk think he might be ill.

It was a frozen moment, etched in the minds of all involved. The Morning Person stood with his weapon pointed at the visitors from space. Spock's finger remained poised a fraction of an inch above the firing button of his carefully aimed suit phaser. No one was breathing.

A muscle twitched in the Morning Person's right arm. Whether it was an indication of intended attack could not be known, but Spock took no chances. A livid red pencil of light spat from one of the Vulcan's phasers and touched the gun. The man yelped with shock and surprise, dropping the pistol and backing away shaking his hand like he'd received a jolt of electricity. When his retreat brought him against the opposite wall he just stood there wearing the expression of someone looking death in the face.

Kirk let out the breath he'd been holding, his palms wet from nervous perspiration. For a rescue attempt, this was not going according to the book! He was trying to figure some way to defuse the situation when Satariano's voice came over his suit speakers. "Captain, I want permission to try something!"

Kirk was eyeing the still open hatchway. There was a well lit passageway beyond, but nobody else had chosen to appear as yet. It was no mystery there had to be others somewhere in that passage, and they probably had weapons as well. He was starting to consider beaming out and trying again another day!

"Captain, please!" came Satariano's insistent voice.

"Do what?" asked Kirk. The priest pulled a book from a leather container attached to the utility belt of his suit. Kirk instantly recognized the journal from the derelict ship. He understood immediately what Satariano had in mind. "Permission granted, but make your movements slow and very unthreatening!" He looked, again, at the open hatchway. "Spock, train your phasers on that door. If anyone or anything makes an appearance in the next few moments you are at liberty to fire, if necessary. Our responsibility is the protection of Commander Satariano!"

Very slowly Satariano took a step forward. The Morning Person's attention was instantly focused on him. The man brought up his hands in a defensive reflex.

Kirk kept switching his attention between Satariano and the open hatchway. At any moment he expected someone to come rushing through that door, weapons blazing. Only his complete confidence in the judgment and reflexes of Spock kept him from calling Satariano back.

Dr. McCoy, as slowly as he could to keep from attracting attention, trained the sensors of his medical tricorder on the Morning Person. Something about the man's appearance had aroused the doctor's professional concern. Reading the indicators on the upper surfce of the tricorder, McCoy felt a thrill of shock run down his spine. His suspicions were entirely correct, the man was gravely ill!

Satariano took another step. He opened his suit microphone so that the man could hear him and staed as slowly and as clearly as he could, "I am friend! Do not fear!" A second later the translator repeated his words in the same language as they had heard beamed up to the Enterprise. It was a forgone conclusion the translation would be inexact, but Satariano hoped it would convey enough meaning to do some good. The speech, as expected, was slow and incomplete.

They all watched the Morning Person, waiting for a response to Satariano's greeting. The man stood rigidly, his eyes moving over each of them. The soft warbling of McCoy's tricorder made the man start slightly, but the continued passive postures of the men from the Enterprise helped him to relax a little. His hands dropped from their defensive posture and he tried a weak and shaky looking smile. When he spoke the translator did its best to find equivalents in English. "Friends? From up?"

Spock spoke softly over the closed circuit suit radio. "Mr. Satariano, I believe he thinks we are from somewhere on this planet!"

"Correct!" responded Satariano out loud to the Morning Person. He had no time to divide his attention elsewhere. "From up! Will help! We come to help!" As he spoke the priest took another step closer and gently laid the journal on the floor of the air lock, then he took two steps back.

The man seemed to gather his courage, then he moved to the book and leaned over to pick it up. He hesitated, his hands going suddenly to his midsection. His face showed a grimmace of pain.

"Bones!" said Kirk over the suit radio, "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"

"Yes, Jim. He's got Cholera!" The doctor's words made ice water run through Kirk's veins.

Slowly the Morning Person released his midsection and finished picking up the book. He looked at the cover, then leafed carefully through several of the pages. He lifted his fever flushed face to look at Satariano, then the rest of them. His expression was one of wonder and dawning awe. He spoke again, his voice choked with what was an unmistakable quality of reverence. "Far voices?"

Kirk felt a rush of mixed emotions.

Satariano replied, "Far voices!"

As they watched in surprise and growing empathy, the man began to laugh, then his laughter became tragic, changing into deep, convulsive, sobbing.

Chapter 51

At about the same time that Satariano was establishing contact with the Morning People, Vice Admiral Bill Parks at Star Fleet Headquarters on Earth was discovering that his orders concerning both the return of Lieutenant Bill Grimes, as well as the transfer of Power of Attorney from Grimes to the Chief Executive Officer of Grimes Electronics, were being ignored. In the mean time the labor disputes complicating everything at the Grimes facility in Chicago were still raging, as was the headache that Admiral Parks had suffered from ever since he'd been put in charge of the entire mess. Turning toward the open door to the outer office, Parks bellowed, "Anderson, get in here!"

His aide and secretary, Lieutenant Commander Neil Anderson, came quickly through the door. "Yes, Admiral?"

"No reply, as yet, from Admiral Karle about this Grimes business?"

"No sir, none!"

Park's fingers drummed on his desk top as he considered what might be causing the delay. Didn't they know, out there, that this M-5 redesign was top priority? Karle was getting a bit too big for her britches! Finally he said, "Send another priority message. Tell Karle we must have those power of attorney forms signed as quickly as possible! Tell her that's an order!"

Anderson nodded. "Aye, sir!" When Anderson left the Admiral's office to send the ordered message, Parks was glowering myopically out the office window while furiously polishing his glasses.

Chapter 52

"Admiral, the Exeter has dropped out of warp drive and is approaching us at full impulse. Captain Sherman sends his compliments, they will be with us in half an hour!" reported the Lexington's communications officer over the com link from the bridge to Admiral Karle's quarters.

"Thank you. Keep me informed, and when the Exeter arrives please ask Captain Sherman to transport over at once!" replied Karle. The com link clicked off. She was sitting in her robe and slippers at the desk. She tried to sleep but her mind just would not turn off. For the past hour she had reviewed all the data gathered since the affair with the derelict ship started, making sure she missed nothing. She took a drink of her coffee and grimmaced with distaste. There had been a time when she enjoyed the fruits of a star ship's replicator, but the real stuff from Commander Satariano's old percolator was spoiling her. Her taste in coffee wasn't the only thing about her than was changing! Coming to grips with the ghosts that haunted her mind was more of a challenge than an entire armada of blood thirsty Klingons. She had to admit to herself the obvious fast that she was scared!

What had become of the confidence she once took so much pride in? Could ten years at a desk change a person that much? One thing was certain, she had to pin down the focus of her fears and get them settled before the time when decisions could mean the difference between life and death for the more than fourteen hundred people now under her direct command!

Complicating everything were the Klingons! To her they would always be something just short of monsters, the harbingers of tragedy and disaster. That Star Fleet was openly operating with a Klingon Battle Cruiser was a turn of events she would never have believed possible! The kicker was that it hadn't been a decision of the top brass of Star Fleet who had made the decision for such cooperation, it had been her! The repercussions of that decision were yet to be realized, but her gut feeling was she wouldn't have long to wait!

She wanted to hide, but couldn't, and that was another problem. Back at Star Fleet it was easy to buffer yourself from the necessity of making a command decision: send it to committee, let someone else stick their necks out! How convenient it was to have that out. Even when she'd commanded a star ship there had always been Commodores and Admirals above her who shouldered the final responsibility. Now there was no escaping it, no buffer, she was it! Events were putting her in just the position she'd secretly feared all her life. She had to find a way of dealing with it, and fast!

Yet, there was one person still available to help her. She hadn't thought of him for such a long time that she felt a stab of guilt. He was one of the most brilliant officers she'd ever known or served with. What would he do now? She activated the com set. There was only one way to find out!

"Yes, Admiral?" came the reply from the com station on the bridge.

Karle thought a second, then said, "I want to send a fleet priority message, Lieutenant. Tight beam and personal to the Rehab Colony on Elba II!"

"My Lord!" said the officer at the K'Reth's science station, "There is a system directly ahead. Long range scans reveal numerous energy emissions!"

"Slow to warp one!" ordered Kang. "I want system-wide sweeps continuously as we approach!" He turned to Skar. "The action you crave will soon begin. Arm all weapons systems and activate screens! Stand by to decloak on my command!"

Activity flourished around Kang as his crew made preparations for the one thing they all revered: battle! There could be no greater dishonor for a crew of a Klingon warship than to make space dock without some kind of action to report!

"All systems ready!" reported Skar. Action or no action, in Skar's mind he was slipping a razor sharp blade between Kang's ribs!

"We are nearing the system, My Lord!" reported the science officer. "There is much activity. Inter-system traffic of all kinds, mostly impulse powered, though there are some indications of more primitive forms of propulsion!"

"Reduce speed to full impulse!" ordered Kang. "Full magnification on the forward viewer!"

A bright yellow star blossomed in the viewer. The science officer dimmed the glare of the starlight, which brought into view the tiny sparks of planets between the battle cruiser and the parent sun. Kang turned to the science officer. "Where do your sensors indicate the greatest source of power emissions and traffic?"

"The fourth planet, My Lord! There is a large satellite as well!"

"Good! Helm, head directly for the fourth planet!" Kang sat back in his command chair with a feeling of joy filling his mind. Events were proceeding well. Soon there would be action to mollify the battle lust of his crew, and, more important, provide his family and relative clans with the opportunity to restore some honor to the Klingon Empire! Kang smiled grimly as yet another thought came to him. It would also be his opportunity to put the weakling Human admiral to the test! The woman, he felt, was out of her depth. It would be amusing to watch her make a fool of herself! "Communications!" he suddenly roared, "Send a message to Balarian IV! Give them the coordinates of the Morning Star System and tell Senior Commander Khurik to bring everything he has!"

In the view screen the fourth planet grew rapidly in size. A single moon was now visible. The science officer continued with his report, his voice several octaves higher in his excitement. "The planet is not heavily industrialized, large tracts being used for agricultural purposes. There is a great deal of atmospheric and orbital traffic, all of which are powered with primitive and inefficient atomic engines. There is an enormous space station in stable orbit midway between the planet and the moon!"

"I need data on the orbiting space craft!" growled Kang. "Are they similar to those we followed?"

"Yes, My Lord! There are several types, but the most advanced appear to be the same. Power emissions from the more advanced ships indicate they are in the early stages of warp technology!"

"Helm, head for the space station! Let me know when we're in disruptor range!" For a moment Kang considered the possible repercussions of his attacking this system without confirming their identity, but he dismissed the thought. It just didn't matter! There were higher priorities by far!

"We're in disruptor range!" shouted the helmsman, forgetting to add the formal "My Lord" at the end. Kang, feeling the heat of battle settle into his mind, did not notice.

The great silver ball of the alien space station was large in the viewer. It must be several Kellicams in diameter, thought Kang as he watched. Dozens of ships were docked on or near the station and myriads of auxiliary vessels moved around and among them.

"Range?" asked Kang.

"One thousand Kellicams!" reported the helmsman.

"Lock all weapons on the station, decloak, and fire!" Ordered Kang.

Amidst the bustling activity of alien craft and commerce the K'Reth suddenly appeared like a demon from its own unique and malevolent hell. The aliens, well within their system security net, were taken utterly by surprise. Bright blue disruptor beams licked out from the tips of the K'Reth's weapons nacelles, and from the cruiser's nose came the red orbs of photon torpedoes. Orbs and beams converged on the station, dead center.

So large was the station that the initial impact of the K'Reth's attack merely blew a kellicam wide hole in its side. This, however, provided an avenue for the next salvo to enter therein and wreak havoc. The station convulsed under the impact of repeated salvos, and although the result were internal explosions that spread wider the destruction and slaughter as storage tanks of combustible liquids and gasses were ignited, the greatest destruction was due to Mother Nature herself. The internal air pressure, given a sudden route of no resistance, roared outward, tearing the fabric of the station's outer shell to fragments. Within seconds the station was transformed into a gigantic cloud of expanding flame and debris.

In the middle of a cacophony of battle howls from his crew, Kang yelled his next order. "Fire at will on anything within range!"

With blood lusting glee the Klingons did just as they were ordered! The K'Reth twisted and turned, dodged and whirled almost as if it had a life of its own. Other stationary facilities and moving ships were caught cold in their sights and blasted into blazing fragments. For long minutes the cruiser continued its wanton campaign of destruction. Then, slowly at first, the aliens began to respond.

Kang was grudgingly impressed. Considering the suddenness and ferocity of the K'Reth's attack, and the amount of damage already wrought, the aliens were rallying like true warriors, countering the threat to their world as best they could. Given modern weaponry these scum would make worthy opponents!

More and more alien ships opposed them. They fired beams that had no chance of penetrating the defensive shields of the K'Reth on their own, but combined with missiles carrying nuclear warheads they could eventually amass sufficient force to do the cruiser damage. Kang watched the course of the battle closely. The K'Reth continued to blast enemy ships to atoms as fast as the disruptors and photon torpedoes could be fired, but there was a limit to what the battle cruiser could do! Dozens and dozens of alien ships were arriving to replace those lost. They came in to the attack, their primitive weapons firing, displaying warrior courage, but also a lack of sensible leadership. Suicidal sacrifice was worthless without an attainable goal!

"Helm!" ordered Kang, his entire attention on the battle raging in the view screen. "Begin to retire at one quarter impulse, but do not get too far from the enemy. Make it look as if they are forcing us back!"

Skar gave him a look of livid hatred. "We retreat? What dishonor do you visit upon us now?"

Kang was far too busy to respond as he otherwise would have to Skar's words. Besides, the Subcommander's lack of insight and imagination no longer surprised him. It was now imperative that Skar be removed as soon as there was time to attend to it! "Shut up and obey orders!" he snarled.

The K'Reth moved away from the alien planet and its desperate legions, lashing out with its weapons as it went. Enemy ships were arriving in ever increasing numbers, the steady lash of their concentrated beams and the impact of increasing numbers of nuclear missiles were beginning to strain the capacity of the K'Reth's screens. Englobement was a very real possibility! "Helm, on my order you will simulate retreat! SILENCE!" The rising murmur of rebellious sentiment was stilled. "Keep your distance, but do not allow the enemy to lose us. They must be kept in visual range!"

Skar, shaking with barely restrained anger, asked in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "Are we allowed to stay close enough to fire back at them......My Lord!"

Kang returned Skar's sneer with a face carefully composed. He had already made up his mind about the Subcommander. "Initially, but slowly open range until it is barely possible for them to keep us in sight. I wish for them to follow us back to the Morning Star System!"

"The Humans?" said Skar, momentarily perplexed. "We do not need their help!"

Kang sighed. It was a continuing wonder to him how Skar had attained the rank of Subcommander at all! He looked away at the view screen showing the enemy ships in the K'Reth's wake. They appeared as glowing silver dots, whirling and shifting without apparent order. He was momentarily reminded of the haphazard flight of a cloud of insects. They continued their attack on the K'Reth, but the range was increasing. From the looks of things, they were taking the bait. "It is not their help that I seek!" was all that Kang said, more to himself than anyone.