Chapter Three

Once the Cadet had left, Spock closed his classroom door behind him and walked sedately towards Dr. Ferrous' office in the language building. He had been invited for a game of 3-D chess, and though he was skeptical the man's only motivation was the game, Spock was curious to assess his chess skills. He had yet to find a suitable opponent among Starfleet personnel. Furthermore, he had decided he should endeavor to practice his "small talk." It seemed to be a required skill in many human situations.

When he arrived, the door whooshed open to reveal Dr. Ferrous beckoning him in with a large grin. Prof Cormier sat curled into Dr. Ferrous' plush chair with a book on her lap. Spock blinked at her, surprised to see her in such an unprofessional manner; her shoes were off and her skirt rode up her legs. She smiled at him. He had never noticed the pleasant effect of her light brown hair swooping over her bright blue eyes.

"Hey, Spock," she said cheerfully. Ferrous motioned him toward the seat beside his desk, on which sat a 3-D chess set.

"Ready to play?" Ferrous asked. "I'm glad to have a real opponent. I haven't found any as good as me on staff yet, but I'm sure you can beat me soundly," he smiled.

"I admit I did agree in search of a suitable opponent as well," Spock acknowledged. Ferrous smiled.

"I'll give you white as my guest, even though it means you'll best me for sure." As they set up their pieces, Prof Cormier continued a conversation they had apparently been in the middle of.

"Anyway, George, I still think you're wrong," she said. "Biology has everything to do with phonology."

"I never said it didn't," Ferrous replied, pushing a plate of sandwiches toward Spock. "They're vegetarian, don't worry," he said in an aside before turning back to Prof Cormier. "I'm just saying it's not as important as cultural interactions that change language."

"We are talking about phonology, aren't we? How does culture change the sound of a language?"

"Have you listened to Klingon lately? Is it not the most intimidating sound ever?"

Spock observed them curiously. They were arguing quite animatedly; Prof Cormier scoffed as she responded, "That's just in comparison to Standard. I think it's a coincidence that Klingon sounds so harsh to us. It has more to do with their vocalization organs." But then she reached forward for a sandwich and Ferrous said, "You'll like the wheat bread ones. I used that garlic butter you like," and she smiled.

Despite having lived in the same house as his mother for nearly twenty years, Spock still had trouble with sudden emotional change. Cadet Uhura had bewildered him her mood swing, and now the professors were acting simultaneously antagonistic and polite towards each other.

"Spock, what do you think?" Prof Cormier asked, turning to their guest.

Slightly taken aback, Spock hesitated before answering and Ferrous jumped in, "No fair, he's biased as much as you are. You can't pit two biologists against me in this argument."

"I've heard he's had enough language education. And anyway, he's Vulcan; bias is moot." Spock tilted his head, intrigued.

"I will attempt to remain as objective as possible," he said.

"So do I," Ferrous said, moving a chess piece with great care, "but I still think the cultural part must be more important, and the scientist still thinks the biology is more important."

"This is a debated topic in phonology academia; however, I assume the effect is a combination of the two factors, as well as some we have not considered, such as geography," he said.

"Of course you wouldn't take sides," Prof Cormier sighed. "That's so dissatisfying."

"I find it intriguing that being correct is more satisfying than finding truth," Spock commented.

"It's a common human fault, I think," Ferrous conceded. "And yet you're probably right, even if I would rather you agreed with me."

"Think that's a biological thing, liking being right?" Prof Cormier wondered.

"You think everything's a biological thing," Ferrous laughed.

Spock said, "Vulcan history would suggest it does not create a biological advantage. We have evolved relatively similarly, but do not experience the same emotional attachment to ideas."

Prof Cormier shrugged and watched Dr. Ferrous take his next move on the board. Spock watched him with interest and realized his own last move had not been optimal. He must have been distracted to not notice the ease with which Dr. Ferrous could check his queen within three moves. But he didn't see the sequence, so Spock was safe. He endeavored to concentrate better.

"Anything of interest in my language physics class?" the doctor asked. "I've had three of them come in to complain that they shouldn't have to take it since they want to be ambassadors."

"They handed in their first papers yesterday."

"All of them from humanities kids?" Prof Cormier grimaced sympathetically. "They're usually better written—you know, prettier—but…confused."

"Cadet Uhura writes well," Dr. Ferrous commented. Prof Cormier's rolling eyes did not escape Spock's notice.

"In fact Cadet Uhura did not perform satisfactorily," Spock said, moving his bishop up a level.

"Oh?" Ferrous asked, surprised. "Did she get mad at you?" he frowned. Prof Cormier laughed.

"Indeed she did," Spock agreed, tilting his head again. "However, she explained her anger had a personal impetus and admitted she needed more help with the physics concepts."

"That girl has spunk," Prof Cormier grinned. "I had her for a biology class her freshman year and you should have seen her when she got her first lab write up back…"

"She'll get back in it," Ferrous nodded, studying the chess board closely. Prof Cormier laughed again, reminding Spock of his mother. "Ferrous, you make it sound like a competition. Why are you so attached to this girl?"

"Because she's our best communications student, I'm sure. I never told you, Alice, but she talked to me about wanting to join the Enterprise crew. They go active the same year if Uhura can get on a ship right out of the Academy." He looked up at Spock. "Quite frankly, Spock, it's part of why I wanted her in your class. You can get her ready for active duty."

"As her Physics instructor?" Spock asked, momentarily diverting part of his attention from the game. Ferrous abandoned it completely.

"She needs a science advisor if she's serious about getting the Enterprise right out of the Academy. I think you can help."

"Why didn't you ask me?" Prof Cormier asked, though Spock was fairly sure her tone was merely curious.

"You're too nice," Ferrous grinned. "I can be nice. She needs harsh. Spock is harsh, I've heard him critique students before." He turned back to the half-Vulcan across his desk. "It's sort of a lot to ask…"

"You are asking me to benefit Cadet Uhura's future career," Spock confirmed. "I am a professor; I do not think it is too much to ask."

"Thanks, Spock. I just have this feeling about her…she can do well. She has the potential to be communications officer on the Enterprise. I want to see her get there."

"I will do what I can," Spock agreed.

**

The next night Spock contacted his mother as she insisted he do every Thursday evening. Sitting on his couch in his apartment, his laptop computer resting on his knees, Amanda Grayson's face appeared on the screen. The light around her was ruddy in quality and the image of her face was comfortingly familiar. He noted, however, a slight frown on her forehead.

"Is anything wrong, Mother?" he asked.

Amanda had tried to smooth her emotion from her face, but her son noted details. He'd always been best at seeing her displeasure, for some reason. His question was unexpressive, but she knew he was concerned. "Oh, it's nothing, Spock, thank you." He looked at her blankly, and gave no response, but she sighed. "Alright, it's not nothing. You know me well, sa-fu."

Spock's lips twitched just slightly. "I should hope so, Mother."

"I wasn't going to tell you because I know you have plenty going on, and I don't know if he'd want me to say, but…I'm worried about your father." Spock's stomach constricted illogically. "He's been meditating all day and hasn't told me why. It's unlike him; he hasn't meditated so much since right after you turned down the Science Academy," Amanda said lightly. She rushed to finish the explanation. "It probably has no significance, Spock. I am sorry you noticed anything."

Spock had not spoken to his father since choosing Starfleet over the Vulcan Science Academy 7 years, 235 days, and 2 hours earlier. It grieved him, and he generally wished his mother to speak of him more. Through his familial bond, he knew his father was well; but he had been unable to access his father's emotions since then.

"Frequent meditation is not so alarming, Mother. Is this not Father's seventy seventh year?"

Amanda flushed deeply, surprised he would even allude to it when her own husband disliked speaking of it... "No, Spock, that's not it. He won't let me hear what it is. I don't remember the last time he blocked me out like this."

Spock restrained a frown, but his mother noted the twitch of his eye and knew he was concerned as well. "I am sorry I cannot help, Mother," he said. She waved him off.

"Don't be. I can handle him. I wanted to ask about your new classes. You told me a bit last week, but you must know the students better now."

"I believe I will have a stimulating semester. Dr. Ferrous has asked me to help one of the Cadets succeed in obtaining an assignment to the Enterprise."

"Oo, a project?" Amanda smiled. Spock was pleased to see her sit straighter in her chair.

"I suppose you could term it thus."

"Who is it?"

"Her name is Nyota Uhura. He seems to have formed an attachment to her as a student."

"Teachers do that, Spock, believe me," she smiled widely. "Don't you remember my stories about my children? They weren't just for general information; I grew attached to them."

"Dr. Ferrous especially wants Cadet Uhura to succeed; he asked me to be her scientific advisor."

"You did accept, I hope?" she asked, looking excited.

"Indeed I did," he said, inclining his head.

"Let me know how it goes, Spock," she smiled, surveying her son carefully. She hoped this would help his interactions with humans. Despite her, she knew he still struggled. Sometimes she felt as though she had failed him; had she become too Vulcan in an effort to help him fit in, or been too expressive and confused him too much? She was anxious to see him…make friends, even though that sounded like he was entering kindergarten…What's a mother to do? "I should go," she said. "Your father is getting hungry, so I should go cook…Be well, sa-fu."

"And you, Mother. Let me know if anything happens with Father that concerns you."

"Alright, Spock. I love you." Her son nodded once in reply and his image flicked away.

***

A/N Yay for snow days!!I know it's little, but I promise the next one will have some Nyota/Spock. I love Amanda, which is a lot of why I wanted to put her in my subplots…If you'd like to see more of her and Sarek, I highly recommend StarTrekFanWriter's fabulous The Native.

Please review and let me know what you think!