On Kolar, one is expected to guide inexperienced clan sisters to what makes them happy. Help them find the various joys of the mind and body so when they come of age they know themselves and what they want completely.

When a clan sister knows what she wants but refrains, healers are called to attend to the ill individual, for surely the rejection of happiness is a twisting, insidious sickness that only grows in the darkness of despair.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call a healer? One of your doctors?" Gaila offers Nyota, who has been pacing for the past ten minutes.

"Gaila, no," Nyota says. "I just need to figure this out."

"You look sick to your stomach," Gaila says.

"Thanks."

Gaila has spent two years on Earth and still does not understand how such a backward people managed warp capability. She's learned now to refrain from calling Humans backward, but sometimes they can't see what's right in front of them due to their own hands.

Backwards.

Gaila continues to watch Nyota pace and wonders if she shouldn't call for a healer anyway. New steps of the recently born, she recalls Nyota telling her. A phrase Humans use when they must develop in areas that make them uncomfortable, Gaila finds. New steps are for the young iand/i the old, she considers. How else does one learn new dances and find new places?

But Nyota Uhura is not like most people, Gaila muses. She remembers the day they first met; Gaila was in a bad mood because she had been talked down to and sexually propositioned by people she had no interest in sleeping with. It was her body and her choice, no matter what sort of foolish beliefs Humans have of Kolari. Orions, they're called on this planet.

Regardless she is Gaila of Kolar, and spreads her legs for no one but herself.

Irritated and less than a step away from running from the building to the nearest shuttle heading in the direction of her home planet or beyond, Gaila opens the door and sees a beautiful, brown young Human with big brown eyes and dark hair that shines black and brown depending on the light. So many browns on one body. Like a forest turning in on itself to sleep and renew.

But she braces herself to be disappointed. Humans are not alone in the universe but they persist in thinking their ways and their averages are normal.

Gaila is not human.

"I am Gaila. Yes, I am… Orion," she says in Standard as best she can. "Tell me now if you don't want me as a roommate. I am carrying everything I own and I don't want to put it down if I'm going to move. Again," she says.

This Nyota Uhura rises from the bed and goes to take one of her bags. Gaila holds on tightly; their weight in her hands is the only thing keeping her from crying.

"Please don't try and steal from me. Orions are stronger than Humans," she says. "I don't want to hurt you."

Nyota stops. "I do not wish to divest you of your belongings," she says in perfect Kolari. "I wish to welcome you. I want you to be free to find your happiness here."

Gaila drops her bags and sobs.

Nyota is more than a friend, she is a clan sister most trusted, and her clan sister needs assistance.

"Nyota," Gaila says as she rises from the bed and grabs the woman. "Nyota, sit down," she says calmly. Damn those suppressants, she thinks. How exhausting is it to have to calm someone by words alone? What are words? "How do you live with such fear of your parents?" she asks.

Nyota struggles to breathe and stops to frown. "What?"

"You are obviously afraid of your parents," Gaila says, gesturing at the knotted fingers of Nyota's hand. "How have you lived your life thus far with such terror?"

"I'm not… I'm not afraid of them, exactly. It's not that. I just… I'm used to being the good girl in the family," Nyota admits.

"And you staying here makes you bad?" Gaila asks, crouching at Nyota's feet.

"No! Well, for the reason I'm staying… I guess…" Nyota falls backward and groans. "I am an adult," she wails.

"…Yes," Gaila agrees.

"And I can do whatever I want," Nyota says.

"You can," Gaila agrees again. This is the direction she wants Nyota to take. This is good.

"But what am I going to tell my parents?" Nyota screeches.

"That you're remaining in San Francisco because you would like to see how it feels to spend time in close quarters with your partner," Gaila says.

"I can't say that."

"Why not? It is the truth."

"Yes, but you can't just tell your parents that. I mean, Humans usually can't just tell their parents that."

"Why not?" Gaila asks.

"Parents tend to think you're a child, even when you're grown up and have children of your own. My brother, Kamau, has a wife and two children and he's still treated like a child by my parents sometimes. They can't help it."

Gaila wrinkles her nose. "They should, it sounds barbaric."

Nyota chuckles and sits back up. "I guess so," she says. "But I'm the youngest and I'm only twenty-one, in a few months I'll be twenty-two."

"You've spent twenty-two years not doing what makes you happy?" Gaila is beyond horrified, she wants to cry tears of courage for Nyota to drink and take into her soul. "Ola ʃol," she says.

"Happiness is sacred. Yeah, I wish that was a sentiment more universally felt here, but it's not. And I'm not afraid of my parents," she says.

Gaila is unconvinced.

"It's true. It's not about fear. It's about the dread of disappointing them. I like parental approval. It makes me feel good," Nyota says. "I guess can't be Mommy and Daddy's little girl for the rest of my life," she mutters.

"No, you can't," Gaila says. "Because one day you want to be Spock's and you want Spock to be yours."

"Gaila," Nyota hisses, and now Gaila laughs because saying Spock's name makes Nyota smile uncontrollably when they're alone.

"Do you want me to make you some tea to settle your nerves?" she offers.

"Tea sounds amazing." Nyota's smile turns suspicious. "What kind of tea?" she asks.

"Relaxing tea," Gaila says.

"Gaila…"

"What?" Gaila rises to her feet and spins. "Something to loosen your tongue and mind and even your body! You know, I took this very same tea before I had the biggest penis of my life. Well, anally, anyway."

"I don't need to be drugged when I have this conversation. If I have this conversation," Nyota groans.

"No, you just have to have courage. Tell me; is Spock worth it?" Gaila does not roll her eyes at the grin that splits Nyota's face.

"He is," she admits.

"Then get on that comm and tell your parents you're not coming because you want to be pleasured by a specific Vulcan penis for the next six weeks." Gaila snatches Nyota's comm from the desk and keys the command to call Doctor and Doctor Uhura. "There, it's sending the call," Gaila says as she throws it to Nyota.

"Gaila!" Nyota screeches and grabs the device. "I'm going to – Mama! Hi, how are you?" she asks, her voice softening.

"I'm going to leave you alone," Gaila says, and leans into the camera's view so she can wave at Nyota's mother. "Hi, Doctor Uhura!"

M'Umbha beams and waves. "Did you get that package I sent you?"

"I did! The kelp shea butter works great on my skin, thank you," Gaila says. "I have to go, I'm going to be late meeting a friend of mine for relaxation sex."

"Oh my god," Nyota mumbles in mortification.

"Have fun!"

"I'm sure I will. Bye!" Gaila does not skip on her way out the door, but she's pretty pleased with herself. Assisting a clan sister buoys the spirit like only sex and revenge can.

But nothing beats revenge sex.


"I am so sorry about that, Mama," Nyota says, slipping into Swahili. "I can literally feel my face burning off with embarrassment."

"My darling you should be used to such customs. She is only being herself. I find it quite refreshing, her honesty."

Nyota wonders if the whole universe is out to get her. "Um, I just wanted to know how you and Baba are doing," she says, stalling for time.

M'Umbha frowns and tilts her head. "Why do you sound nervous?" she asks. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. I just… I wanted to talk to you about this summer," Nyota says.

M'Umbha squints at her daughter but nods slowly. "Yes, I noticed you haven't confirmed your ticket. Do we need to change the date or time?"

"Mama, about that. I… I need to stay in San Francisco for the summer," Nyota says in a rush. "It's –"

M'Umbha interrupts with a laugh. "My angel, say no more. I knew this was going to happen eventually."

Nyota blinks. "…You did?" she squeaks. "How?"

"You're getting older, and you're very talented. It was bound to happen. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. Someone should've snapped you up your first year," she says.

Nyota can barely breathe. "You…" Her brain stutters. "I – I don't know what to say."

"Your father and I raised you to expect this."

"What?" Nyota asks weakly.

"A special project." M'Umbha beams. "Don't work too hard but do your best. Instructors talk amongst themselves and if you display superior work ethic and dedication to detail I'm sure people will be clamoring to work with you."

Nyota's heart is beating so wildly in her chest she thinks she's going to keel over and slip to the floor. "You…" She blinks and tries to get her brain to work correctly. "Thank you for being so understanding," she manages to get out.

"My darling, don't worry. There will be plenty of summers before that ship of yours is done. Your father and I can see you another time. This is important," M'Umbha says.

You don't know how important, Nyota thinks. "Thanks, Mama. Tell Baba I'll talk to him later, okay?"

"Of course." M'Umbha blows Nyota a kiss and ends the call.

As soon as her mother's face disappears from view Nyota falls over onto her side on her bed and lets the padd drop from her fingers. She's just lied to her parents and that's horrible.

What kind of child lies to their parents?

"I'm a horrible human being," Nyota says to the ceiling.


"You haven't said much," Chris says.

"I don't have much to say," Spock replies.

"It's awkward to sit here with no conversation." Chris gestures at the other diners, quietly eating and conversing pleasantly. "It looks out of place."

"I have no need to appear iin place/i," Spock says. "I also do not feel compelled to make small talk when it is not necessary, and it is rarely thus."

Chris clenches his jaw as he regards Spock from across the table. "You're still angry about your proposal?"

"Anger is an illogical emotion," Spock says.

"But you are angry."

Spock's nostrils flare. "I experienced displeasure at the thought that you had interfered in my professional business," he says.

"What are you talking about?"

"The Admiral Komack rejected my proposal and stated that I needed to enjoy my vacation period so I may ensure I was refreshed for the autumn term. I am Vulcan and my endurance levels differ from Humans."

"So you keep saying, Spock."

"Because I do not believe you listen," he says. "I understand my limits better than anyone and I am not so illogical that I would push myself beyond acceptable parameters. You are not my parents, Christopher."

Chris twists his glass between his fingers for a moment before nodding. "I'm sorry, Spock. I just wanted to do what was right by you."

"You continuously forget that I am not Human," Spock says. "In small, subtle ways that make it very difficult to confront due to my inability to correctly gauge Human emotional responses to criticism." He swallows and fights reacting to the sensation of itchiness on the backs of his hands and on his neck.

"I'm sorry, Spock. I guess in trying to make you feel at home and not alien I went too far in the other direction," Chris says.

"Christopher, I do not mind being alien. The definition is apt and I have no quarrel with the word. I would appreciate you respecting my decisions especially when it pertains to my time and my life." Spock adjusts the salad fork beside his plate so it ran parallel to the bread knife.

"That request is more than fair. Just… You may have to tell me when I've gone overboard or I've made you uncomfortable," Chris says.

"I will," Spock says.

"I know you will," Chris mutters good-naturedly. "Would you like me to speak with Komack? Get him to reconsider your suggestion?"

"There is no need," Spock says.

"Pardon me, gentlemen. One pesto risotto with mushrooms." The young Human female places a plate before Spock with a perfunctory smile. "And Linguine with Gorgonzola, Prosciutto, and Spinach for the distinguished gentleman," she says with a lingering smile for Chris.

"The service here is absolutely lovely, isn't it Spock?" Chris asks as he grins at the waitress, who blushes and turns to go back to work.

"I will have a more accurate answer at the end of the meal," Spock says as he begins to consume his food. "Am I correct in understanding the waiter was perhaps interested in pursuing a relationship with you?"

"Relationship? Probably not. But you never know. There as a spark," Chris admits as he tucks into his meal. "Sometimes that's all it takes to make you want to take the chance." Spock says nothing and Chris deflates just a little. I'm going to have to keep apologizing, aren't I?" he asks.

"There is no logic in apologies when the offense is repeated," Spock says.

Chris sighs and hangs his head. "You're right, you're right," he says.

Spock nods once and begins his meal, appreciating the subtle flavors of the dish for approximately four minutes and ten seconds when he decides Chris has endured enough. "I have new plans for the summer," Spock announces.

Chris' eyes widen as his fork hovers between his face and plate. "What kind of plans?" he asks suspiciously.

"Plans of a prolonged nature with another individual." Spock returns to his food.

"Is that all you're going to tell me?"

Spock pauses. "I have requested my partner join me during the break." Spock resumes eating and does not reveal the pleasure he experiences watching Chris attempt not to pry. "The dish you suggested is acceptable," he says.

There is the smallest of grins quirking Spock's lips and Chris squints at him. "Did you have these new plans when you were mad at me for talking to Komack?"

"Indeed. I believe now you have been delivered your order correctly," Spock says, his tone almost prim.

Chris looks down at his food in confusion as he mouths what Spock has just said and laughs as realization dawns. "Serves me right," he crows. "Well damn, I guess it does." He chuckles. "So where are you going?"

"I have not finished my meal," Spock says.

Chris sighs. "I meant, where are you going to take your significant other this summer?"

Spock blinks. "…To my apartment," he says. Chris' expression grows pained. "That is not sufficient?"

"That's a very different step than what we discussed," he says. "That's… that's moving in with each other. Are you sure you're ready for that? On Earth that's considered a very important stage."

Spock considers himself ready to make Nyota his wife; moving in is pedestrian in comparison. "I considered all known variables before approaching her with the request."

"And she was okay with that? Moving in with you for the summer?"

"She required a period of time to consider."

Chris nods. "Wow. The training wheels are off," he mutters.

Spock frowns. "You speak of a manually operated bike?"

"Nevermind, Spock." Chris resumes eating but Spock now wants to discuss previous comments. "So, do you have anything planned?"

Spock considers. He cannot tell Christopher that he anticipates keeping Nyota naked and well fed so she may have enough energy for long coitus sessions. "We have many activities that we like to do together," he says.

"Such as?"

"She and I have periods where we catch up on the journals of our varied and shared interests."

Chris nods slowly. "And?"

"We both appreciate a wide variety of music. We listen to pieces and discuss our appreciation or disapproval and then research societal trends during the period of its publishing."

"That all sounds like things you do in the apartment," Chris says.

"Affirmative." When Nyota comes over Spock rarely comprehends a reason to leave unless Nyota expresses an event or location she wishes to visit.

"That's fine for short periods of time but you might become bored. Hell, she might become bored. Is she Human?" Chris asks.

Spock takes a swallow of his lemon water and regards his friend. "I have stated in a previous conversation that she who is my partner is Human."

"Well I forgot."

"Negative. Your tone is the one you employ when you wish to ascertain information through subterfuge."

"I hate it when you're observant."

"Christopher, I am always observant," Spock says.

Chris merely looks at him until he finishes chewing. "You might want to take her some places, Spock. Does she like to go out?"

"I am content to agree to her suggestions when it comes to planned outings," Spock says. Again, he cannot tell Chris that he would never leave his apartment if Nyota would allow.

"That's a step in the right direction," Chris notes. "Just make sure you pay attention. Some women like to hint around instead of saying exactly what they want."

"Is that the reason you concluded your romantic relationship with Captain Holcombe?" Spock asks.

"Part of it. My work comes first and some women have a problem with that."

Spock is very glad that Nyota has her own work and prioritizes it accordingly. It makes it easier for Spock to do the same without concern. "That is a problem I have yet to experience in this relationship."

"Lucky," Chris grumbles. "All I'm saying is you may want to plan some really nice events to go to. Have some dinners planned. Find out what she does when she's not around you and that should give you some ideas."

"I could ask her," Spock says.

Chris swallows and nods. "You could, but it's seen as more romantic when you make some suggestions yourself. It means you've been listening and paying attention and that you have enough confidence to act on your knowledge."

"I will consider your words," Spock says. "I wish to finish my meal before it grows cold."

Chris chuckles. "It's been decades since I've been told to shut up and eat," he says as he picks up his fork.

Spock's eyebrow rises with his incredulity. "Fascinating."