1. Chapter One: Beginner's Vulcan

"Make eye contact, but do not project your emotions through your eyes. Do not extend a hand to him, nor ask him questions that have nothing to do with the class. Do not put any emphasis on neither his nor your personal life, be it tastes, hobbies, etc..." Nyota was whispering these things to herself in Vulcan as she prepared herself for the first of her classes.

She checked herself in the mirror, briefly, then began to make certain that she had all of her materials – of course, she did. This was not her first year here. Hell, it was not even her first bout with school, not even with a prestigious one... but this was the military. This was Starfleet Academy. She remembered how high strung she had been her first year at the academy. Although she had been one of the top students of her graduating class from the University of South Africa, she knew that she was dealing with a completely different ball game, here, and she intended to be an MVP. That thought brought to her mind another number on the seemingly endless list of Vulcan culture, "Please, refrain from human colloquialism, slang, sayings, etc..." she took a deep breath.

One of the most important things about being in communications was knowing that there was more to it than learning a language. She could learn any language that she set her mind to, but if ever she was faced with someone who spoke it natively, there were so many different cultural differences between alien life forms and Terrans that if one was not careful, they could actually accidentally start a battle. She had no intention of ever so offending anyone, especially not someone in charge of one of her grades, as this Vulcan would be.

It was the most appealing course on her schedule. Most of her schedule involved alien languages. She already had a degree in communications. Like many students at Starfleet Academy, Starfleet was not her first stop. There were people here, she had read, who were previously doctors, nurses, scientists, and all other professions, and decided to dedicate themselves to Starfleet, after the fact. So, she did not feel threatened or uncomfortable about the fact that she would be beginning her life here as a freshman, despite her degree.

Her schedule included Beginner's Vulcan, Beginner's Cardassian, Intermediate Tellarite, Advanced Romulan, and Advanced Klingon II. Last year, at the start of the year, they had placed her in Beginner's Klingon, but she refuted that one, because she had an extensive knowledge and usage of the Klingon language and had signed up for Advanced Klingon. Apparently, her credits from U of S. Africa had not properly transferred... she straightened that out, very quickly.

Her first year, she squeezed in most of her physical electives – the basic physical training required of all Starfleet members, a course to learn (in general, if not intricately) each position and station of a Starfleet starship, as she planned on working on the finest starship that the Federation would have – the U.S.S. Enterprise, and finally, Advanced Klingon. So, in one year, she had roughly learned how to work every station on a starship bridge, accomplished all of her physical requirements, and gotten more familiar with the language of the Federation's greatest known foe – the Klingons.

This year, she planned on doing more to deal with her own personal field – xenolinguistics and communications. In addition to the six alien languages that would be her main focus of the semester, she also had a communications technical and lab course that was mandatory, despite her degree, and she knew that it would be a joke and a bore, but rules were rules, and there was no getting around that class. Therefore, the best prospect of a challenge was her Vulcan class, especially considering that Starfleet had its first Vulcan ever as the teacher.

When she found that out, she had fought for entry into his class. At first, she had been told that the class was full, and that there was no way around it... she did not have a degree in communications for nothing. Nyota Uhura persisted with her advisor, until she convinced the woman that with the drop rate of alien language courses, by the time the second week came, the class would have more than enough room, but she would be too far behind. The woman tried to give her another Beginner's Vulcan class (one with a human teacher), and she refuted, "If I wanted a human to teach me Vulcan, I could teach myself." Finally, the woman just got sick of her and added her to the list and said that it would be up to the teacher whether or not she would be allowed to remain in his class.

Nyota knew that she would have to make an impression upon the teacher. Vulcans were people of logic. Highly strict and annoying logic, and she would need to present herself in a most logical manner in order to be allowed the chance that she needed to learn from him. So, she spent the past few days researching and trying to memorize what was and was not proper behavior when amongst Vulcan people. She glanced at the bed next to hers and saw the green foot of her roommate hanging out from underneath it.

Her roommate, and Orion, named Gaila never went to her first few days of classes, and that she caught up when she finally did go. That did not make any sense to Nyota, but Gaila was a rather decorated cadet, and an adult. It was not Nyota's responsibility to try to force her to be dutiful, yet, it took a great deal of effort on Nyota's part not to awaken her roommate and urge her to go to her first class. She sighed and shook her head, that would have been as pointless as it generally was when she asked her to be careful with men.

Her first class was the communications technical/lab course, that they simply called Comm Lab. Nyota found that once in the class, there were a few things that she had not really thought about in well over a year and became grateful for the fact that this course was required. It would be a good refresher. She just worried that perhaps she would be refreshed sooner than later and that the rest of her time would feel wasted. Nevertheless, she wished to understand precisely what she was doing here and the syllabus sent to her electronic address was insufficient, to say the least. It seemed to her like the instructor had just made it before class, as an afterthought. She began to question the man on what types of technical and lab work she could look forward to. She noticed that many of the students were taken aback by her knowledge of the course material (which was not on the syllabus), but she had her career to think about, not the stares of her so called peers.

After this class would be her Vulcan class. She took deep breaths, hoping that she would not be late, and that when she got there that she would not forget something important. She really and truly wanted to make well with the Vulcan, for her career, and for her own personal growth in the knowledge of the language.

"Didn't I see you at orientation? Are you the woman who was asking the presiding instructor questions, causing him to remind everyone that we were in orientation, which is not exactly a forum?" She heard a woman's oily voice ask. She glanced up from gathering her things to see a blonde woman with twinkling blue eyes and a warm smile, complete with dimples.

Nyota smiled and said, "That was I. I am Uhura."

"I'm Janice," The blonde cadet said. Nyota immediately felt herself frown. What was it about some of these cadets? Especially the ones in communications? They seemed to always want to be friends first and professional, later. This was the fourth person that she would have to make the discernment for, this week.

"Actually, Cadet, I am trying to keep the mind set that this is a professional atmosphere, so if I could call you by your last name, as is Starfleet protocol, that would be more comfortable for me," Nyota said. Her voice was not rude, but she knew that the words probably stung.

When Uhura said this, Janice blinked a few times before saying in a very small voice, "Rand. I am Cadet Rand."

"Nice to meet you, Rand. I have to go. I have a Vulcan class next and the instructor is Vulcan, so I don't want to be late," Uhura said and practically dashed out of the room. She did not look behind her, and she did not wait for a farewell. If she timed herself accurately, she could get there about fifteen minutes early, and she hoped that would not be too late for a front row seat. She wanted to be in the desk that faced his desk, although as a Vulcan, it probably would not make much sense to him to ever sit in the desk. He would probably find lecturing for the duration of most classes to be most proficient.

She had walked into her first class of the morning, highly excited that she was finally going to have an actual teaching of the complexities of the Vulcan language by a Vulcan native! Formally, she had taught herself what she could of the language, and had areas which needed strong work. This course would help her to perfect the language and pronounce the sounds that she had been struggling with, and the fact that the instructor was actually Vulcan made it so much more enjoyable, as many of her psycholinguists instructors were not natives of the planet of the language she was learning, and she found it necessary to seek out actual natives and befriend them so that she could get extra insight on the language. Most were flattered that she wanted to take the extra time to perfect the language and not just learn it in the way that it would be acceptable for the duty of a ship and for the Federation itself. No, she wanted her skills perfect.

By the time her second class came around, her excitement flushed to nervousness, but she decided that she may have time to calm herself while she set her desk up for work. After she set up her desk, the silent Vulcan seated at the desk in the front of the room, just across from the desk she had chosen to set herself up in remained quietly reading his PADD. She realized that since class had not started, that he may be preparing, but then decided that as a Vulcan, he probably already had the entire lesson plan, not just for the day, but for the rest of the semester not only prepared, but also memorized. So, she ventured to his desk and introduced herself. She did not reach out her hand for him to shake, but instead held both of her hands behind her back and stood an adequate distance away from him that she did not invade his personal space. "Excuse me, Professor, if I may have a word with you briefly before the start of class?" She started.

The stoic alien man placed his PADD on the desk and folded his hands over each other. He gave her his attention without reacting in the least bit to her presence. She continued to say, "I would just like to let you know that I am excited about learning your native tongue and I will do whatever it takes to perfect my skills. I have taught myself the language in a rough form, but I definitely need this class and your tutelage to master the language..." She had no intention of begging, but she really wanted him to allow her to remain in his class.

He said, in the most even tone that she had ever heard from anyone, "Cadet Uhura, I am certain that with your background of the past year in this learning institution that you will exceed in this class, as much as a human possibly can. I must attempt to redirect your excitement, however, as excitement is illogical and counterproductive. I will ask you not to allow your emotions to get in the way of your progress in this class. Vulcan is not an emotional language, and human emotions often taint the statement being attempted."

She nodded, trying to calm herself of the fact that he was already familiar with her name and performance. She evenly answered, "I have read this and when I taught myself, I have attempted to suppress the inflections in my natural tone to speak the language to the best of my abilities," She said it in Vulcan.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. Other than that, his face had not changed, at all. He responded to her, in Vulcan,"Although you have taught yourself quite well, you still have much to learn, indeed. If there is nothing else for you to speak with me about this morning, you may resume your seat until the start of class."

She nodded her head and headed for her seat, then turned around and asked, "Is there a name that your students should call you by? I know that you most likely have a name which we can not pronounce, and I am sure that I can learn to eventually, but in the meantime..."

He cut off her statement with the introduction, "I am Spock." She smiled at him and bowed slightly, "Good morning, Professor Spock." He simply looked at her, and bowed slightly, himself, completely devoid of any emotion or reaction.

Nyota's PADD sounded and she checked it. There was an electronic message from Gaila, which she opened to read: Commander Spock... gorgeous, right? She let of a frustrated sigh and deleted the message. If Gaila had no intention of getting up for class, she certainly should not be sending stupid messages... but when she looked up at the Vulcan again, Nyota did have to admit... her was gorgeous.

His eyes were chocolate brown, though as blank as a canvas. The slant of the Vulcan eyebrows gave him a sense of mystery and although the haircut was completely silly looking to her, she also had to admit that his hair looked extremely soft. It was jet black, and glossy, like it was shining, although it did not seem to have anything in it to make it shine, and she would have been completely shocked if a Vulcan would have put something into their hair to make it shine.

Then, there was his build. When he arose from his seat to check the projector, she mused at his height and the lean figure of his body. The black officer's uniform did him all kinds of justice in the "pleasing on the eyes" department. She checked his rank – Lieutenant Commander. She wondered how long

it had taken him to get that rank? She planned on at least being a Lieutenant by the time she set foot upon the Enterprise, and as a Vulcan, he must be much more skilled at excelling in Starfleet than she. She frowned, but when he turned to face the class, with his hands placed behind his back, his manly, handsome face made her forget where her mind had traveled to...

She realized that she was getting lost in his appearance, and she cleared her mind. What the hell? He was gorgeous, but not worth a poor grade over daydreaming. Before she realized, class was about to start, and as she looked around the room, she could hardly believe that she had not noticed how many people had entered it since she began to study her Vulcan professor's physical attributes.

Spock monotonously presented all of his introductory information to his first class of the day, then his second, but then, before the start of his third... he was interrupted. He had only been looking at his PADD to seek a more efficient schedule for his meditation and exercise regimen, as today's had proven too closely tied together with his first class, and he had only come into the room twenty seven point four minutes early, as opposed to his much preferred precisely thirty minutes early.

When the woman interrupted him, he gave her his attention. That was only proper. He did believe that whatever she intended to say would most likely be irrelevant and probably illogical, but he generally prepared himself for things of the sort from humans on a daily basis. Her statement was not too illogical. She did mention excitement in learning Vulcan – that was not particularly unusual. Humans tended to become excited over learning anything about an alien race from a member of the race itself. He responded to her accordingly, and watched her return to her seat.

As she prepared her desk, he recalled the alert that was sent to him about another addition to an already overcrowded class. He was just about to deny the request and recirculate her to another class when he noticed the footnote: Lieutenant Commander Spock, PLEASE do not reject this student or recirculate her to another class. She was rather adamant about being scheduled to your class, specifically and she does not logically take "no" for an answer. He frowned and decided to research her records.

They were highly impressive. He found himself with a dilemma. He reserved the right to deny her being in his class, despise the annoying footnote that her advisor had added. Then, again, she qualified for his class. Her marks up to this point were exemplary across the lines. He had other students, far less impressive who had already been enrolled in his class. Someone of her academic prowess deserved the education she chased after. He looked over his list of students for the class and he found one that he remembered having exceptionally unimpressive markings. He switched that student to another class, and accepted the add on of Cadet Uhura.

When he awoke to begin his day on the first day of classes, he meditated first. After he was done, he began to practice his Vulcan self defensive techniques. He realized before it ended that he would have to cut his workout a few minutes short, or he would have to be a few minutes behind on his general preference to pre-class preparation. He decided to finish his workout and to readjust his schedule, later. He decided on an even number of hours for sleeping, so he did not wish to cut his time there...

After his third class ended, the cadet, Uhura, approached his desk. he had returned to the seat, as he sometimes did in between classes. She said, simply, "Professor, I have questions about the syllabus..."

"You may visit my office in Administration Annex III, room number..."

"103, between the hours of 1500 and 1700, preferably by appointment," she finished the sentence for him, having already read the information in his syllabus. She asked, "Should I call your office to make an appointment?"

"You may tell me right now on what day and at what time will be an acceptable time for you, and I may let you know whether it is available, or not," he replied."I can be there today and 1500 hours," she said.

He nodded once and said, "Very well, you are my first appointment of the semester."

"You always remember your first," she said, then winced.

His lack of a facial expression did not show that he had been thrown off by her accidental slip of the tongue, but when he stated, "My memory is quite proficient. I remember mostly everything."

She shook her head, embarrassed with herself for using a saying with a Vulcan, but grateful that he was not unfamiliar with it. It might have sounded inappropriate, otherwise. She nodded her head and rushed from the room, not really eager for her next class, but eager to get away from him, at the moment. She would pull herself together, readjust, and by 1500 hours, she would redeem herself from any embarrassment.