"And to add in a new training subroutine, see this interface pad?"
They all nodded. The essential training in the brand new holodeck that had just been installed bored just about everyone, with the exceptions of Spock, of course, and Chekov, who was looking at the pages and pages of formulas required with the kind of expression usually reserved for unexpected shore leave. Not that the rest weren't interested, they were just more interested in the result than how they worked.
It had been easier to create scenarios than they expected. At first it'd been solely for training purposes – seeing how the crew would deal with different challenges. The simulations became the talk of the ship, if not the entire fleet. Combat training, running flight simulations, and diplomatic excercises were all far more fun than anyone had thought they could be.
It started with Uhura. Deciding that the new holodeck was the perfect place to run simulations of first contacts, using federation recorded languages, she booked a few hours. It took less time than she'd have thought to program everything in.
"Computer, play simulation."
She hadn't planned on the scientist leading the team being quite so good looking, or the beauty of the isolated lake, a waterfall rushing away in the background; the light of the purple trees glowing softly at dusk.
Emerging an hour later, hair ruffled and grinning to herself, Uhura decided she had to rig up a booking system.
As soon as word got out about just how lifelike the holograms could be, and just how easy it was to make fully functional respresentations of your co-workers, Uhura's booking schedule became the subject of most of the comms sent via PADD. At the beginning, it was just the usual suspects, people she always knew were going to come forward. But as stories of holographic exploits got out, the bookings became more and more bizaare. She didn't mind becoming the unofficial guardian of the holodeck; although booking schedules was really more of a task for a yeoman, not a starfleet officer, there hadn't been much else going on – for once, the anomalies the Enterprise was monitoring really were anomalous in the way they were predicted.
The whole thing turned into a game for her, as she started guessing what people were simulating. Or who they were simulating. Some people it was hardly a Chekov and Sulu had a hard time looking at each other on the bridge the day after their individual 'simulations', she had to stifle a laugh. Some she refused to think about – the last thing she needed was to think about what exactly Lt. Riley had programmed into the computer. But a few, she was just dying to know. What really annoyed her was the way senior officers used the pretense of 'Official Starfleet Business' to jump the queue. If they wanted to have a go, they could by all means do so – did they not think she could see right through them? When Dr. McCoy came to her, claiming an urgent need to explore the possibilities of testing medical procedures to train new surgeons, she rolled her eyes, assigning him the time. It wasn't until later that she started considering exactly who the grumpy doctor wanted to conjure up.
The very last person she'd expect to book a session sent her a message before the week was out. Her personal involvement in Spock's life had been over for a while, but as a friend she moved him to the top of the list, rescheduling Sulu's 3rd simulation. Whatever he needed to work out was his own business, but she couldn't say she wasn't intrigued by the idea of exactly what Spock would create. When she found out the computer system needed a few communication adjustments at the end of his session, she honestly tried to give him time to finish. She couldn't help it if the walk to the holodeck was shorter than anticipated. Deciding that lurking outside would look even worse than stumbling in, she keyed her code into the door.
She had expected to be hit with the dry heat of Vulcan, greeted perhaps by Spocks house. What she saw instead made her stop dead. It looked like another bedroom, larger and far more luxurious than her own quarters. She saw the cup of tea waiting at the replicator, and realized immediately that the brightly coloured throws and sheets meant that this was not Spocks quarters. Either side of a chess set sat Spock and the Captain. She looked down immediately, away from the interlocked hands of the two men sitting there, mumbled apologies, muttering jargon about the communications device. Spock ended the simulation instantly, and Uhura could swear there was a distinct green tinge shading the arch of his cheekbone.
"Very well, Lieutenant." he stated. Anyone but a communications expert and an ex-girlfriend would have thought him calm. She could tell he was panicking in the quickend rate of speech. She gave him her best, warmest smile. His pace to the door was faster than she'd ever seen him move before. He paused next to her though, for what seemed like an eternity.
"I... I'm sorry Nyota."
"There's nothing to apologuise for"
He seemed little comforted by her assertion.
"I won't tell anyone"
He made the first eye contact she'd had since she walked in.
"Thank you.".
She watched him turn the corner, heading, no doubt, down to the science labs. She started smiling to herself as she called up the communications log. Who'd have thought even Spock was using it for romance?
She was genuinely shocked after the first week, as the schedule got booked further and further in advance, that the Captain had not booked a slot. More and more people got interested in knowing who was giving it a go, after she'd let slip that Sulu would just have to wait until people trying it for the first time had finished before he could have what seemed like his 70th session. So after she got the message booking Jim's appointment for 2 weeks time, it was not a surprise most of the bridge knew by the end of the shift. When the betting pool started up, she couldn't say she was surprised.
What did surprise her, however, were some of the suggestions. She had never seen rec room 3 so full, and some of the gossip flying around was astounding. Apparently, Yeoman Rand thought Kirk would choose her. Lieutenant 'Cupcake' said he was sure that Kirk would choose Uhura, at that pokey bar they'd first met in. She'd never heard something so stupid – Jim hadn't flirted with her since becoming Captain, and she definitely thought the the Captain would go after someone he spent a lot more time with.
The next day, Uhura was shocked to discover that someone had put up a board in rec room 3, with the different bets, using initials, as no-one fancied Spock's death glare, and one thought of hypos and Dr. McCoy stopped anyone from telling him. More of the crewmen had put themselves on the list. She was just thinking how the list itself seemed to reflect the Captain's interests fairly well (men, women and random aliens all made appearances) when in walked Spock and the Doctor, deep in conversation. All eyes around the room focused in, and everyone standing by the board made a swift exit. All except Uhura, too busy lost in trying to make a list of just how many species the Captain had been with.
"What's with the board?". Uhura snapped her head up. Dr McCoy's rare good mood making everyone in the room flinch pre-emptively.
"It would appear to be a list of bets placed by crewmembers, Doctor."
"What on earth for? How many credits are going?"
This was not going to end well.
"I am unsure. Nyota?"
She was unsure of what exactly had put both men in good moods, but she paused, knowing that the answer was going to make them rather more...
"Bets crewmen have placed on who the Captain's gonna simulate in his holodeck session next week." She'd always believed that it was better to get things over with.
McCoy laughed. He actually laughed. Clearly, he had no idea of what he'd been doing to the nerves of everyone in the room. Or maybe he did, he seemed to like taunting people.
"Well, in that case... What're we betting?" Turning her panicked eyes over to Spock, Uhura saw that he'd taken it better than she expected. Just his usual, dead pan expression.
"Time in the holodeck now. Seems to be what people want most!" She tried to laugh it off, pretending that the topic of who the names up on the board were was never ever going to come up. "Who's your money on?"
The doctor leaned back in thought. Then he gave a wicked grin, and looked to Riley, the leader of the betting pool, getting ready to put up another bet.
"Y'all know what I figure? He'll find some way to make the ship into an actual woman. My money's on the Enterprise."
A few crewmen exchanged glances, trying to assess the likelihood.
"Since the bet does not consist of money, Doctor, I fail to see how yours can be on the..."
"My next session's the bet, old turn of phrase."
"An interesting bet. I shall be sure to inform the Captain."
It was an interesting sight to see every single person in the room's expression drop with one phrase.
"Please don't.."
"There's no need to..."
"Spock, you …."
She caught him later, looking up at the board. Luckily, no-one had quite had the gall to explain to the men who exactly the two forerunners were.
"J.R, I assume is Yeoman Rand."
"Yes. Spock..."
"And N.U. is you. I am surprised to see Lieutenant Matthews persists in thinking the Captain still feels an attraction to you."
"Me too. Look, Spock..."
"L.M. . Fascinating. If the good doctor had known of his involvement in the betting, I doubt he would have participated."
"Probably not, but ..."
He stopped, staring at the last two intials. The chances of him not knowing who they belonged to were... well, she'd never been much good at calculating odds, but 'virtually non-existant' popped into mind.
"How does Lieutenant Riley propose to discover the Captain's choice?"
A simple question, phrased with pure scientific intent, but Uhura had known him too long for that. There was such conflict in his expectation of an answer. A part of him was desperate to know who the Captain would choose, but his entire ethical code instructed him that he should not disturb the Captain's privacy to find out.
"I... I'm not sure. Knowing Jim, it's a miracle he hasn't come down, told everyone and ruined the bet!" She grinned feebly. "I feel like practising something. Would you accompany me?"
She set down the lyre after the second song. He still had his eyes closed. It was a difficult conversation to have, even harder to start, but...
"I'm sorry I walked in on your program."
His eyes flitted slowly open.
"There is no need for further apologies, Nyota."
"I know the betting is... well,"
"It is a natural response of the crew. The Captain has shown interest in many people. I suppose..."
She leaves it for a second, before deciding to pursue.
"What?"
"The holodeck makes the unobtainable real. I had thought it... unlikely for the Captain to need..." He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to.
"I know. Me too. I thought he had everything worked out. But I guess even he can't break some regulations..."
They sit in silence for a minute, both lost in though. It hurts her to see him, already hurt by a relationship that hasn't even happened.
"Some of the bets... The doctor's is by far mostly likely, statistically. Yeoman Rand...."
Uhura giggled. "I know! The only bets on her, she made herself!"
She had never really thought of him as possesive. He certainly had never been that way with her. But she couldn't forget the look on his face when she told him what the chart was. It must've taken him all of what, 3 seconds to figure out the names up on the board. Neither could she forget the subtle nuances of disgust he just intoned.
"I think, for her, he shall remain a holographic representation. The unacheivable..."
Uhura usually didn't like to read too much into his statements, never sure whether they were merely lost in the culture transition, but there was no mistaking that.
The next day on the bridge was hilarious. Yeoman Rand came in at least every hour, getting less and less subtle every time. The batting of her eyelashes, coated in mascara, got more and more pronounced. Most of the bridge crew were too busy laughing to step in, but an absolutely emotionless voice spoke up.
"Yeoman, is there a problem with your eyes? It may be wise to report to sickbay if the problem persists.". It didn't.
About the 4th time she came in, the Captain seemed to visably slump. Surely there were only so many forms she could ask him to fill in. She 'dropped' the PADD next to the seat, and took so long retrieving it, even Chekov rolled his eyes.
The most unexpected attempt, however, came from Nurse Chapel, who had bet on Dr. McCoy. When Uhura walked into the mess hall for lunch, she noticed that Christine had the Captain cornered, and was talking away so fast it was hard to make out the words. Not that Uhura had anything against the doctor, but she felt a smile rise when Jim remarked to her on the way out that he was glad his friend finally had an admirer.
The next 2 weeks went by in a blur of shameless attempts at flirting, and some of the most obvious attempts at matchmaking Starfleet had ever seen. She had an overwhelming suspsicion that the whole of the bridge crew had bet on Spock. By the 2nd week, random members of the bridge crew started complementing Spock, and discussing certain aspects of his physique rather loudly in the middle of duty.
"Do I need to put a Mr. Spock fan club on the list of groups aboard?"
"No, sir"
"Good, back to duty"
Again, Uhura tried not to read that much into that.
She felt bad about it, but it was the only way the bet would ever be settled. She sighed inwardly as Scotty linked the holodeck to the screens. At least they'd decided not to watch on the bridge, setting up rec room 3 with a screen instead. She swore she'd never seen it so busy – everyone who made a bet, and a fair few more crowded in. McCoy's lurking by the door smirking, confident in his bet. Turning around, glancing over Sulu and Chekov, who would appear to be holding hands, she spied Spock, standing next to the doctor. Unusual, the two could hardly be called good friends, but she could understand how Spock didn't exactly want to be in the middle of things, in any eventuality. They all watched as the Captain strode into the holodeck.
"Computer, run file Kirk-Alpha"
They all stared as the walls of the holodeck disappeared into a deep, dark blue sky, dotted with a billion stars. They could hear the trickling sound of a river, and, as one, squinted at a silloeted figure standing on the raised banks. It was a man; that, they could make out. Rand slumped in her seat. As Jim walked up to him, the entire room was deadly silent. It was too short to be Spock, but it didn't look much like McCoy either...
"Hey."
"Hey."
The voice sounded like Jim's. A sudden murmur went round, everyone wondering whether they should have in fact, placed bets on the Captain.
He walked until he was standing in front of the shadow. A firefly flitted past them, and every crew member gathered in the room felt their hearts melt.
"I never knew he looked so much like his dad..." Chekov whispered.
No bets had been placed on George Kirk, although Uhura thought in retrospect, it seemed the most likely. Everyone in the room slowly filtered out, their sense of privacy returning, now the curiosity had been sated. Scotty shrunk the screen down. The last thing she saw of his simulation before they turned it off were the backs of two men, chatting away, watching the fireflies flit over the river, behind an old farm house.
It was two days before anyone mentioned holodecks, and before anyone thought to actually ask what people had simulated. Everyone seemed far more willing to talk about it than she'd guessed. She went back to scanning sub-space frequencies, as they moved on to their next mission, but stopped dead in her tracks, in the sudden dead silence of the bridge when one the the science ensigns begun to ask the Captain about his time in there.
"It was good, you should try it. Not many things are completely unacheivable, but its great for those that are. I have a suspicion though," he switched to a stage whisper. "that quite a lot of my crew lost a lot of bets on it." He grinned his usual grin, and Uhura span back round, smiling, knowing that, yet again, practically nothing was impossible for James T. Kirk.