Uhura's Song
Leonard. I have ADF syndrome; I confirmed the diagnosis myself a few minutes ago. You've just given me the only chance I have. I thank you for it- however it turns out."
     
     
"Micky..."
     
     
She shook herself and gave him a fierce smile. "Now bug off, will you? We've both got a lot of work to do today. I'll keep you posted." She gave him no chance to say goodbye.
     
     
He was glad for that. He had no wish to say anything that sounded so final.
     
     
Captain's Log, Stardate 1573.4:
     
     
Mr. Spock's coordinates have brought us to an area of space uncharted by the Federation. Mr. Spock and the entire Astronomy Division are making a brief but exhaustive survey for solar systems that fit the necessary parameters.
     
     
Personal Log, James T. Kirk, Stardate 1573.4:
     
     
Three weeks to reach Spock's haystack and another spent sitting here in the middle of nowhere while Astronomy takes pictures....
     
     
Every time I think this is impossible, I think of Heinrich Schliemann. I'm not the only one. Like Starfleet Command, the crew has been told only that we're following certain leads Spock has found in Eeiauoan literature, and Dr. Wilson has been dispensing her prescription with a liberal hand. "Heinrich Schliemann" has become a catch phrase all over the Enterprise. I've heard it in a dozen different contexts in the past few days. Spock even found it deserving of comment- "baffling."
     
     
"Ah, Captain," said Spock, as he stepped into the turbolift to find Jim Kirk already there. "I believe we now have sufficient information to begin a closer scrutiny."
     
     
"Good, Mr. Spock. Very good." Having spent so much time twiddling his thumbs, Kirk was not about to waste another moment. He activated the intercom and said, "Lieutenant Uhura, please have all senior personnel meet me in the briefing room immediately." As an afterthought, he added, "Mr. Spock is ready."
     
     
"Thank you, sir," said Uhura's voice. He could hear the relief in it. "Uhura out."
     
     
"Kirk out." He turned again to Spock. "Just what are our chances of finding Sivao?"
     
     
"They depend largely upon Lieutenant Uhura, as she is the only one of us with any knowledge of the world we seek."
     
     
"Well, she's gotten us this far. Let's hope she can keep it up."
     
     
Spock nodded once but said nothing further. Jim Kirk knew better than to press him on the subject. At most, he'd get an estimate of the odds against them, and he was not sure he wanted one.
     
     
The turbolift doors hissed, momentarily framing Evan Wilson in the opening. Spock raised an eyebrow at the picture she presented; Kirk said, "Good Lord!"
     
     
She wore heavily padded fencing garb that had been slashed in several places as if by enormous claws. Sweat shone on her forehead, her hair was in total disarray, she was openly bleeding from two parallel cuts across her left cheek- and she was grinning from ear to ear.
     
     
She stepped into the lift, carrying a wooden staff a few inches taller than she was high, and saluted triumphantly. "Mr. Spock, Captain," she said. "Do I have five minutes to clean up, or can the briefing room take it?"
     
     
"You have five minutes, Dr. Wilson. I won't have my ship's doctor running around looking like..." Kirk found himself hard put to say what she did look like.
     

 
"Like something the cat dragged in?" she suggested. "I'll have you know, Captain, Snnanagfashtalli looks like something the doc dragged in."
     
     
"Are we to understand, Dr. Wilson, that you have been engaged in combat with Snnanagfashtalli?" Spock had no trouble with the name; the Vulcan language had more than its share of throat-twisting sounds.
     
     
"It was something of an experiment, Mr. Spock. Quarterstaff against teeth and claws. The results were inconclusive. I think I gave as good as I got, but then, Snnanagfashtalli kept her temper, so I'm not sure if she was pulling her pounces. I may just have been pummeled like a kitten." She daubed at her cheek

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