Author's Note: For the prompt, "I'm waiting. For an apology." "You better check the temperature in Hell first," at the where_no_woman September drabblefest on LJ. Set during Uhura's unseen childhood featuring the grandmother that didn't make it into the script! Unbeta'd, sorry, and pretty raw. Do poke if mistakes have been made! Cheers.
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/Paramount/Gene Roddenberry. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.
her honor bright
by, Bether
There were certain things Nyota Uhura could simply not abide. Condescension was a big one—especially if it had anything to do with ethnicity, gender or age. (All were arbitrary and, more importantly, things no one had any control over… with the possible exception of gender but that was generally an entirely different issue.)
In this instance, it was a teacher she'd spoken out of turn to. Her instructor, Mr. Lampada, had made some disparaging remarks about Tellerites and Uhura had objected quickly and succinctly. She'd been silenced with a stern, "That is quite enough, Miss Uhura."
Now, she and Mr. Lampada were standing staring at each other. "I'm waiting," he said finally. When she refused to reply, a defiant expression on her face, he elaborated: "For an apology, Miss Uhura."
That, she thought, would not be happening any time soon. Perhaps when it rained swine or the hot place called Hell froze over. "No."
There was shock on her teacher's face. "Excuse me?"
Uhura's expression was a stony mask. "No," she repeated stiffly. "There is no excuse for your bigotry. And I will not apologize when it is you who is wrong."
"Enough of your insolence," he snapped, his face an interesting shade of puce. "You will go to the principal's office for punishment."
Silently, Uhura picked up her things and made her way from the classroom. Even at sixteen, she already conducted herself with a sense of poise some people never achieved. With her back straight and eyes sharp, she sat through a reprimand from the principal and, after unwillingly writing an apology to Mr. Lampada, a lecture from her parents about respecting her elders and authority.
After dinner, Uhura searched out her grandmother. She curled beside the old woman on a loveseat and told her story, finally releasing the frustration and humiliation she'd kept tightly inside herself.
In response, her grandmother didn't coddle her—would never, in point of fact. Instead, she hugged Uhura tightly and proudly commended her for standing by her convictions. "It does not matter that your teacher believes he won," she explained in her soft melodic tone. "Even if it is you alone who knows the truth that does not stop it from being the truth."
The following day, Nyota Uhura walked into Mr. Lampada's classroom with her head held high. With her convictions unchanged and the truth on her side, it wasn't so difficult—even after being made to write the false apology letter.
"Our greatest glory is not in never falling but in rising every time we fall." – Confucius