Free Star Trek by Kevin Killiany Page A

impression the trees and ferns got larger closer to the volcanoes.
    As soon as the invaders hacked their way to the edge of the banyan forest, it would be an easy march to the K’k’tict tree town.
    â€œ[unintelligible noise] and [unintelligible noise] will go with us,” Copper announced, indicating Spot and Lefty from among the several K’k’tict waiting at the base of the tree. “The experience will aid their [maturity/education].”
    Corsi revised her earlier theory that Spot and Lefty had not spoken in the presence of the leaders because they were of a lower caste. Apparently they were youngsters.
    The three immediately headed in the direction of the strangers. Some of the remainder settled down to await the expedition’s return, while a few headed back toward the tree town.
    â€œDo your names mean anything?” Corsi asked after they had gone a short distance. If she was going to communicate, she’d have to address individuals as something besides hey, you . “Corsi is a shortened form of the name for an island my family came from.”
    â€œOur names are our names,” Copper said, stopping. “We are who we are, not where we are.”
    â€œI understand.” Corsi decided to set aside explaining that Domenica meant Sunday to a species that did not measure time. It was tempting to leave the name issue alone, but she had no idea how long she would be among the K’k’tict and clear communication was essential.
    â€œMy combadge does not comprehend, and renders your names as sounds I cannot emulate,” she explained. “Do you have simplified names?”
    Blank stares all around.
    â€œWould it be offensive if I gave you nicknames so that I might indicate individuals?”
    â€œWhat names?” Copper asked.
    â€œWell, your coloration is the feature most apparent to my eyes,” Corsi said cautiously, aware external coloration was the galaxy’s most common source of prejudice. Seeing only expectation in her listeners, she went on. “I think of you as Copper, you as Lefty, and you as Spot.”
    Lefty bowed her head low to the ground and began shaking it back and forth. Spot began batting her left ear furiously. For his part Copper seemed content to watch the other two.
    â€œWhat did I say?” Corsi asked, concerned. “Did I give offense?”
    â€œSpot has been her [tease her name] since she emerged,” Lefty said. “She hates it.”
    â€œAh,” said Corsi, making a note that violent head-shaking near the ground indicated laughter. “Sorry about that.”
    Though the smaller trees of the forest looked like pines, they were of much denser wood. Corsi found it impossible to bend any but the smallest saplings and branches could not be casually brushed aside. If the hand axes she had heard were the invaders’ only tools, she was impressed with their tenacity.
    For their part, the K’k’tict moved silently through the thick and thorny underbrush. Corsi noted they did not travel in straight lines and they varied their pace, frequently pausing to listen. Remembering Copper’s question about why she was killing K’k’tict, Corsi wondered if this stealth was instinctive or a survival skill recently mastered.
    She noticed they kept their large, lemur eyes squinted almost shut long after they’d left the twilight of the banyan forest. Apparently adaptation to life beneath a few hundred meters of shade tree meant even the dappled sunlight they were moving through was painfully bright.
    Copper had led them in a curving route that brought the recon party to the edge of the cleared roadway several dozen meters behind the workers. They were indeed clearing the land with only hand tools, watched over by guards armed with what looked like stylized crossbows. At first Corsi thought she was looking at slave labor, then realized the guards were watching the underbrush, not the workers. They were