Hi everyone, none of this mine anyway, and I've had the sudden urge to write a Star Trek fanfic. I got inspired by Rolletti's Spock/Uhura website to just write a fun adventure fic, hope everybody likes it.
When Nyota Uhura, Starfleet Lieutenant, found herself using both standard and non-standard training skills to fend off a pair of drunken men in a sleazy seaside bar, she knew the mission had gone horribly wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.
"The mission is simple. The planet's name is Almyrov, a roughly analogous atmosphere to Earth, about half the planet is covered in water," Kirk had informed the senior staff only three days before in the briefing room.
Spock's deep concern over elevated neutrino levels in the sector, disturbances seemingly centered around this planet Almyrov, had resulted in the formation of an investigation team. Largely a pre-industrial society, with advancements only reaching similar standards of 18th century Terran technology, it seemed unlikely that any mechanism there could intentionally interfere with these readings.
"But we're sending Spock anyway, of course, to conduct research. And we're also going to need a communications liaison on the planet's surface." The captain looked around, hemmed and hawed, before setting his gaze on her. "So how about it Uhura, ready for the cause?"
Despite Spock's glower and sharp glance at the captain, Uhura had accepted. After arriving on the planet, she had been sent to the tavern to meet with two contacts rumored to be experts in local scientific phenomena. This was false, she had discovered, after the two had tried to arrest her on sight. Well, after she had waited for them for two hours, during which she was forced to drink as much wine and beer as the rest of the occupants there, so as to not arouse suspicion. Which was proven to be a cultural habit by the fact that the two government spies had also shown up drunk, accounting for their lateness.
Blood poured from the duo's bloody noses, darkening their beards, and splashing on to their filthy tunics, stretched tight over their guts. She awkwardly dodged a running punch from the first malcontent, and barely avoided a frustrated kick from the other. They were drunk, impressively so, and the fight would have been more even if Uhura had been able to proclaim differently.
A well-timed blow by a ragged barstool knocked out the first aggressor. The second, frightened and swaying from either drink or injury, stood impassively still when she saved all her force to repeat the tactic. The stool's legs broke, clattering by his side as he fell unconscious on the dirty wooden floor.
"And don't you forget it." She jabbed her finger at the two, and swayed unevenly. The crowd who before had been held in rapt attention nervously looked elsewhere.
Where in the galaxies was Spock? He should have been back already. Uhura's wandering mind thought of his hands, his touch, and a silly smile appeared on her face. No, she needed to be serious. She frowned, trying to remember where she needed to be.
No such luck. "Lieutenant." He appeared behind her. Spock's eyes were flat, his tone even more so. He was dressed in black leggings and a high collared tunic that fell to his knees. He looked distinguished, noble even. She in turn was dressed in traditional Almyrovian female garments, long skirt, sheer shawl, and a plain woven shirt. And after drinking and fighting in these clothes, she probably looked more like a ragamuffin.
"Spock." She smiled cautiously.
He grabbed her hand, and Uhura found herself out of the tavern into the cobbled streets, led by the hand by a terse Vulcan.
"Where's the rest of the crew?" she managed to slur out.
" Still on the Enterprise. The mission has so far proved unsatisfactory. The planet's neutrino levels are interfering with our communication and transport systems."
"We're stuck?"
"In a word, yes."
They both heard a clattering in the distance, perhaps a daily march of the city conducted by the local soldiers. As if they were threatening the citizens to continue acting obediently, rather than for reasons of reassurance against outside threats.
Spock dragged her to a nearby ally, waiting until the sounds passed. She saw the stressed eyes and stance, the tense upward curl of his shoulder. Leaning closer, she let her face fall against his chest.
"I worry for your safety," he admitted.
"I'll be alright". Her voice came out as a whisper.
Spock bowed his head and pressed a kiss against her neck. He released his breath slowly. "Let us go. I have procured us passage out of this city. I have already left an encoded message to the Enterprise that they should receive once the systems are back in order. You will also have to determine how to contact them more efficiently once we have left."
Possibly half an hour later, dodging through narrow streets, crowds of people, trinket stands, food markets, and the stench of unbought fish, they arrived at their destination. Which was, apparently, an abandoned cliff by the sea, high bluffs by sparkling water.
"We leave by ship?" she asked him, wondering why this had not occurred to her before. Oh right. The beer. She wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and sleep.
She followed Spock down to the water, where one solitary ship hid before the rocks. After a few moments, a figure emerged to greet them, stomping along jubilantly. He had tanned skin, bleached brown hair, and soiled tunic and trousers.
"Greetings, fair travelers. I am Sutan, as you must know. I have already met you, Mr. Spock, and if I may so enquire, who is this lovely personage next to your person? You did not tell me she was female."
"She is Uhura." Spock's voice, though reasonably even, contained a very evident threat.
"So, ah, is this your woman?" Sutan asked, looking at her from face to foot. Spock's expression did not falter, yet she heard the hesitation.
"Don't worry, I already know." He smiled, revealing a mostly intact set of teeth, and clapped Spock on the shoulder. "We'll take care of your man," he addressed to Uhura, and bade the two to board the ship. "A woman who likes her drink! Already, she fits quite in," he bellowed back towards his crew.
Uhura swallowed, knowing what he must have noticed the scent of alcohol on her skin. And also just realizing why this ship was hidden, and who they were traveling with. Brigands. Sweet and merciful saints. They were to travel the Almyrov seas in a pirate ship.
She was going to kill Spock.