I don't own Nyota Uhura, Leonard McCoy, The Federation or Star Fleet Academy and I'm not making any money on this story.

This is my first and (only?) shot at pre-movie stuff. I've got my own idea about Nyota's origins and I'm using this as a vehicle to share them/flesh them out. Also, the Federation became official in 2161... approximately 70 years before Nyota was born, so I imagine that there were still some growing pains about whether Earth should be in it, whether the benefits were worth it and whether all nations benefited equally. Finally, if you're a member of my family and you recognize names/features/characteristics... be honored! :)


Day 1.

Naima Hassan arrived in San Francisco at approximately 0630 hours. She had stopped at her hotel on the way to the conference from the transporter station. She checked in, placed her bags in her room and took a shuttle to Star Fleet Academy. Naima was excited about the conference; since she'd become a wife and mother in a suburb of Nairobi she hadn't really had the opportunity to interact with her professional peers in a satisfying way. She hadn't minded though, her children Nyota and Basim, were brilliant and worth the sacrifice of the professional challenge that she now sought out. Naima remembered how small and vulnerable looking Nyota had been on her first day of school, and how she had cried when Basim had finally learned to ride a bike. She wiped a tear away as she stood in queue for the shuttle.

No, being a suburban family practitioner was plenty when she was able to watch her babies grow into strong, capable adults. Of course, both Nyota and Basim were out of the house now and the life of a doctor that mostly set broken arms and diagnosed alien strains of influenza in business commuters that worked in Nairobi was a little mundane. Basim had opted to study journalism only last fall and it was then that Naima had started to cobble together an article on comparative genetics. It was a good project, her husband had told her, now that the kids were out of the house. Kiano Uhura was, as ever, occupied in the administration of the Federation government. He was a commuter himself, traveling between San Francisco and Nairobi every week to work in his continued role of Chief of Staff to the Federation President. Naima didn't really resent Kiano's work but she had been bored, to put it bluntly, when the house was empty five days a week while Kiano dealt with immediate threats to the coalition of planets and political intrigues with alien races. Naima could see why Nyota had pursued a career in Starfleet; it must have seemed just as exciting as her father's work.

Naima thought of this conference as a secret getaway, a place where she could be simply Dr. Naima Hassan, not Basim's mother, not Kiano's wife, not the one who hadn't spoken to her daughter in nearly two years. She'd mentioned to Kiano that she'd be going to a conference but had not expressly mentioned it would be in the city that he worked in. She didn't want him to feel obligated to entertain her. She hadn't called Nyota either. She was still debating on whether it would be a good idea to surprise Nyota. Things had been strained between them ever since Nyota had decided to join the military. Naima watched the city slip past through the windows of the shuttle and put the last conversation with Nyota out of her mind.

During the conference lunch break the sun began to shine and Naima thought it would be a lovely day to go for a walk. With a light breeze in her loose hair, Naima absentmindedly wandered toward the gleaming campus of Starfleet Academy. Naima was a lovely woman. Her deep bronze skin retained the suppleness of youth and her long wavy hair had only started to turn silver at a few points, creating attractive streaks that many asked if she had professionally done. She was dressed handsomely in a light gray pant suit that accentuated her curves. The sun seemed to shine on her exclusively as she passed through the busy streets, glinting off of her hair or brightening her green-gold eyes. Naima felt good; better than she had in a long time really. The last time that she'd felt so in control of herself was well before Basim had chosen a course of study for college.

Naima's good mood carried her to the campus far faster than she had anticipated. She checked her watch and saw that she still had at least 40 minutes left before the next panel discussion began. Naima thought about venturing onto the campus. What could it hurt? There were thousands of people on campus and the likelihood that she would run into Nyota was negligible. Plus, she wouldn't have any opportunity to explore on the remaining two days because she would be presenting her paper. Naima made her way down the well manicured slope that separated the campus from the street and began to explore.

Naima saw a tall man with full lips watching her as she descended. He did not look familiar to Naima, but she thought that he probably stood out because he was older than the majority of the other students that she saw walking around. Naima continued to walk around the academic buildings, noting an inscription here and a sculpture there. She had to admit that it looked remarkably like every other campus that she had ever seen. She had not really expected murals with subjugation of alien races depicted, or monuments to photon torpedoes but she still didn't expect a military institution to be so ordinary.

Naima checked her watch again and started back toward the conference. She had carefully made sure to avoid the dormitories by sticking to the periphery of the campus; still though, so many young people smiling brightly in their red uniforms made her long to see her daughter's face. Naima knew it would be a bad idea, so she quickly put the thought from her mind, but continued to stare at each cadet on the off chance that Nyota was one of them. As she was climbing the slope to the main street Naima saw the older man again. She was not sure, but she thought he was staring at her. She wondered if he was a professor that she had met at some other point in her life. No, that was unlikely since he wore the same cadet uniform as everyone else. Naima looked over her shoulder at him one last time before she crossed the street. He was still watching her.

"You know, if you're going to be in a study group," Nyota walked up behind McCoy and slipped her arm around his, "it may be helpful if you actually show up to the study sessions."

"Eh, you know me Uhura." McCoy looked down at the slender form that was standing so closely to him, "I have some intrinsic need to do it the hard way. Did I miss anything important?" McCoy started walking, urging Nyota along gently.

"Just the usual. We went through the questions from the last two semester's final examinations. I'm sure a guy like you will do fine going into an Interspecies Ethics exam cold. What did you have to do that made you miss it?" Nyota smiled, looking up at her friend.

"It doesn't take much Uhura. I decided it would be nice to enjoy this rare respite from the San Francisco gloom." McCoy looked off into the distance and Nyota frowned. "Uhura, where are you from again?"

"What? Len are you feeling alright?" Nyota joked, "You know I grew up in Nairobi. Well, until my dad got really heavily into politics, then he felt better with us living outside the city. He's a little paranoid, but that's a fundamental requirement for his job I guess. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. What does your dad do that requires him to be paranoid?" Len asked absentmindedly.

"Oh, well, at the time he was a political strategist and owned a lobbying firm. It was pretty volatile for him back then with the growing pains surrounding representation in the Federation, trading partners and what not. Now he's the chief of staff for the Federation president, which I guess is less likely to cause some splinter political group to do something stupid, but requires the same amount of paranoia. He loves to be behind the scenes I guess. He's one of those shrewd always one step ahead of you kinds of guys I suppose. It's weird to watch a news story about the Federation President and think 'The guy that's running all the stuff surrounding that person is the same guy who was my track coach when I was 13 and who giggles like a school girl when given ice cream soda' but it is what it is."

"Your father is the Chief of Staff for the Federation president? How did I not know that?" McCoy responded, unbelieving.

"I try not to bring it up Len. I mean, I don't want anyone to treat me differently because of it. I don't even really know her, the President I mean. I hate it when people use someone else's influence to get things so I would never want that to happen for myself. It's not a secret really, but it isn't something I run around yelling about at the top of my lungs either. Besides, its a political position; here today, gone tomorrow." Nyota shrugged as they made their way into the cafeteria.

"Well." McCoy was truly shocked. "So I take it your mother is what? I can't even imagine being near someone who knew the Federation president"

"Uh, she's a physician." Nyota's tone had changed considerably.

"Oh, just one of those. A worthless profession to be sure." McCoy said sarcastically.

"It's not like that," Nyota sighed. "It's just that we're not... close. Not anymore anyway. She's an excellent doctor though, at least that is what everyone says. I grew up hearing about how she 'gave it all up' for a family from relatives and family friends. I don't know. I don't think she was happy with her career as a family doctor. She was really into comparative genetics when she met my dad. She wanted to be a professor and research scientist. I even heard once that she was offered an opportunity to study at the Vulcan Science Academy, she was so good."

"Huh." McCoy murmured quietly. McCoy knew a few things about comparative genetics and he knew what it took to get an invite to the prestigious Vulcan academic institution. He also knew that there was a conference on comparative genetics in town this week. He had skipped it because he needed to prepare for his finals, but he considered popping in for just a moment.