Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I own Mika. That's it.
***
Gossip circulates fast in an enclosed environment. On the Enterprise, at least for that particular day, this was especially true.
That morning in the mess hall Sulu disclosed to Chekov what he'd overheard the Captain saying on the intercom.
Later, Chekov told an inquiring Uhura the story. On it went, the story getting longer and more outlandish with each retelling.
The sickbay was crowded that afternoon as more people showed up, each with an excuse to explain their being there.
"Uh, needed ta' get some medical tape fer...me...uh..." Scotty trailed off lamely as he grabbed a box of bandages off the desk, trying to get a good look around the corner.
"I hurt my wrist," a Yeoman mumbled. He ignored McCoy's poking and prodding and stared through the sickbay window, but all he saw was a lump under the covers of a medical bed.
After a few of the security guards stepped in to check a supposed 'hazard alert', McCoy had reached the end of his rope.
"Okay, I see what this is! All of you, out of here! Out!" the doctor shouted, closing the sickbay doors on the shocked face of a young Ensign who really had broken his thumb.
"Grumble grumble idiots grumble nosy grumble ouch, Damnit!!" That was the extent of the good doctor's mumblings to himself as he stalked back to his desk and ran into a filing cabinet.
*** Uhura was the only one to slip past McCoy's beady eyes and into the sickbay.
That must be her, she thought to herself, spotting the girl sitting up in one of the medical beds.
The communications officer approached the figure and sat down in the chair by the bed. The girl watched her curiously.
What beautiful eyes, Uhura thought to herself.
"Hello. I'm Uhura."
The girl looked for a moment at the woman's outstretched hand, then grasped it with her own.
"Hello," she said shyly. "I am Mika." Her slight accent was noticeable in the stillness of the room.
"We are all very curious about you," Uhura said gently. There was a genuine warmth in the woman's eyes that made Mika want to trust her.
"Curious...about me?"
"Yes. It's not often that we have so mysterious a visitor! Tell me; where do you come from?"
Mika looked down at her hands.
"I have lived on Fortune since I was very small."
"Fortune?" Uhura wrinkled her forehead. "Oh, you mean F-gamma-2."
"Yes. Most recently I was in the possession of a potter. He was not very kind. I was glad when Master Spock bought me from him."
"Bought you? You...you were a slave?" Mika nodded slowly.
"You poor thing! Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You're free now."
Mika was confused. "Free? No, I am Master Spock's. I am glad; he seems kind. He does not hit or yell."
Uhura mulled over this information. Surely Spock did not mean to keep the girl as his possession?
She was startled out of her thoughts when the girl reached up to touch her hair.
"Your hair is so lovely," Mika said, admiring the graceful braids Uhura had pinned up.
"I can show you how to fix yours this way," Uhura offered. "Would you like to learn?"
"I would love to! Thank you very much," Mika smiled, surprised at her own happiness. It was the first time she had been happy, truly happy, in a very long time.
*** Later in the afternoon, Uhura visited Mika again. With the doctor's permission the two girls talked and Uhura fixed her new friend's hair. The communications officer had just begun telling Mika about her acquaintances aboard the Enterprise.
"What about Dr. McCoy?" the girl asked. She was becoming more confident in her use of Standard. But for her slight accent, one could not find a flaw in it.
"Oh, he'll have you believe that he's a grumpy old man, but he's really a softie. He and Mr. Spock are the Captain's closest friends."
Mika hesitated before speaking again. She was curious about her rescuer, the Vulcan Spock. She wanted to know about him, but there was something about him that frightened her. In the end she decided to ask.
"Mr. Spock...what is he like?"
Uhura paused thoughtfully in her brushing of the girl's long, dark hair.
"He's... mysterious. Very intelligent, but very quiet. Almost - cold, in a way. But all Vulcans are like that, or so I've heard." She resumed her brushing.
"It's true. Vulcans are cold, in a way. Some would say unfeeling, but not I."
Mika carried within her a memory of her eighth year, of a day when she had been so badly beaten that she could hardly draw breath.
It was a Vulcan man who had lifted her head and cooled her throat with water, and it was the same Vulcan who'd noted indifferently to the girl's master the stupidity of beating one's possession into a state of incapacitation.
Unemotional, yes, but one could not dispute the logic of his argument.
***
"Okay, Mika, I'm going to show you some letters on the screen, and you tell me which ones you can read clearly."
McCoy spent the rest of the day administering Mika's medical testing per Federation standards. The girl was, for lack of a better word, a mutt.
She had the brain formation particular to Humans, and her heart, though five-chambered like that of the Bajorans, was situated in the left chest cavity as a Human heart would be.
Overall, her organ development was human, but the placement was utterly Bajoran. She had the acute hearing and olfactory senses of the Romulans, but her reflexes were that of a normal human. Her body temperature was 93 degrees Fahrenheit - low for a Human or Romulan but normal for a Bajoran. Her bone structure was completely Romulan, with the warrior race's excellent shock-absorption and muscle support.
All in all, she was a medical mystery - and a miracle. How she ever survived birth - on a planet with very little medical technology, no less! - was beyond McCoy. The odds were surely against a child of such cross-bred genes.
The doctor carried on with thoughts of this vein until he realized that the girl was waiting patiently for his instructions. She was sitting on the edge of the medical table, her semi-bare legs swinging.
Uhura had kindly donated a set of clothing for Mika to wear. They did not realize until her old shift had been destroyed that the girl was far too small for any of Uhura's clothes. In fact, she was smaller than any woman on board. New clothes could not be procured until they reached their next destination, so Uhura's would have to do.
Mika was wearing a blue leisure shirt with the sleeves cuffed several times and a skirt that fell to her knees. She would wear neither shoes nor nylons, much to Uhura's dismay.
McCoy returned to the task at hand, pointing at one of the medium-sized letters on the screen.
"Can you tell me what this says?"
She shook her head slowly.
"What about this?" He indicated a larger letter.
"No."
McCoy was confused. Her other senses were extraordinary! He tried a different approach.
"Mika, can you read that sign?" he asked, pointing to the sign above the recovery room door.
She shook her head again.
He realized what the problem was, and asked kindly, "Can you read at all?"
The girl looked down and said in a small voice, "I never learned."
"Well, you will now. I'll set you up with a few of my old book-tapes, and we'll have you reading in a jiffy."
Mika could scarcely contain her happiness. Food, clothes, and now reading? She had never known such a world existed.
* Dr. McCoy devoted the next two days to teaching his young patient to read. She learned the Standard alphabet in three hours and could pick out words within the next. Soon after she was devouring his Dr. Suess book-tapes at an incredible speed.
"It took me five years to learn to read," McCoy muttered to Kirk on the second day as they stood in the doctor's office, sharing a drink. "It took her half a day. Makes you feel kinda stupid, doesn't it?"
Mika was certainly progressing, in more ways than one. She had begun to call both the doctor and the captain by name, and she no longer ate like a starving beast. She was not so skitterish, and smiles were more common on her face.
Her bruises were fading, and along with them, her fears. Or so it seemed.
Disclaimer: I own Mika. That's it.
***
Gossip circulates fast in an enclosed environment. On the Enterprise, at least for that particular day, this was especially true.
That morning in the mess hall Sulu disclosed to Chekov what he'd overheard the Captain saying on the intercom.
Later, Chekov told an inquiring Uhura the story. On it went, the story getting longer and more outlandish with each retelling.
The sickbay was crowded that afternoon as more people showed up, each with an excuse to explain their being there.
"Uh, needed ta' get some medical tape fer...me...uh..." Scotty trailed off lamely as he grabbed a box of bandages off the desk, trying to get a good look around the corner.
"I hurt my wrist," a Yeoman mumbled. He ignored McCoy's poking and prodding and stared through the sickbay window, but all he saw was a lump under the covers of a medical bed.
After a few of the security guards stepped in to check a supposed 'hazard alert', McCoy had reached the end of his rope.
"Okay, I see what this is! All of you, out of here! Out!" the doctor shouted, closing the sickbay doors on the shocked face of a young Ensign who really had broken his thumb.
"Grumble grumble idiots grumble nosy grumble ouch, Damnit!!" That was the extent of the good doctor's mumblings to himself as he stalked back to his desk and ran into a filing cabinet.
*** Uhura was the only one to slip past McCoy's beady eyes and into the sickbay.
That must be her, she thought to herself, spotting the girl sitting up in one of the medical beds.
The communications officer approached the figure and sat down in the chair by the bed. The girl watched her curiously.
What beautiful eyes, Uhura thought to herself.
"Hello. I'm Uhura."
The girl looked for a moment at the woman's outstretched hand, then grasped it with her own.
"Hello," she said shyly. "I am Mika." Her slight accent was noticeable in the stillness of the room.
"We are all very curious about you," Uhura said gently. There was a genuine warmth in the woman's eyes that made Mika want to trust her.
"Curious...about me?"
"Yes. It's not often that we have so mysterious a visitor! Tell me; where do you come from?"
Mika looked down at her hands.
"I have lived on Fortune since I was very small."
"Fortune?" Uhura wrinkled her forehead. "Oh, you mean F-gamma-2."
"Yes. Most recently I was in the possession of a potter. He was not very kind. I was glad when Master Spock bought me from him."
"Bought you? You...you were a slave?" Mika nodded slowly.
"You poor thing! Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. You're free now."
Mika was confused. "Free? No, I am Master Spock's. I am glad; he seems kind. He does not hit or yell."
Uhura mulled over this information. Surely Spock did not mean to keep the girl as his possession?
She was startled out of her thoughts when the girl reached up to touch her hair.
"Your hair is so lovely," Mika said, admiring the graceful braids Uhura had pinned up.
"I can show you how to fix yours this way," Uhura offered. "Would you like to learn?"
"I would love to! Thank you very much," Mika smiled, surprised at her own happiness. It was the first time she had been happy, truly happy, in a very long time.
*** Later in the afternoon, Uhura visited Mika again. With the doctor's permission the two girls talked and Uhura fixed her new friend's hair. The communications officer had just begun telling Mika about her acquaintances aboard the Enterprise.
"What about Dr. McCoy?" the girl asked. She was becoming more confident in her use of Standard. But for her slight accent, one could not find a flaw in it.
"Oh, he'll have you believe that he's a grumpy old man, but he's really a softie. He and Mr. Spock are the Captain's closest friends."
Mika hesitated before speaking again. She was curious about her rescuer, the Vulcan Spock. She wanted to know about him, but there was something about him that frightened her. In the end she decided to ask.
"Mr. Spock...what is he like?"
Uhura paused thoughtfully in her brushing of the girl's long, dark hair.
"He's... mysterious. Very intelligent, but very quiet. Almost - cold, in a way. But all Vulcans are like that, or so I've heard." She resumed her brushing.
"It's true. Vulcans are cold, in a way. Some would say unfeeling, but not I."
Mika carried within her a memory of her eighth year, of a day when she had been so badly beaten that she could hardly draw breath.
It was a Vulcan man who had lifted her head and cooled her throat with water, and it was the same Vulcan who'd noted indifferently to the girl's master the stupidity of beating one's possession into a state of incapacitation.
Unemotional, yes, but one could not dispute the logic of his argument.
***
"Okay, Mika, I'm going to show you some letters on the screen, and you tell me which ones you can read clearly."
McCoy spent the rest of the day administering Mika's medical testing per Federation standards. The girl was, for lack of a better word, a mutt.
She had the brain formation particular to Humans, and her heart, though five-chambered like that of the Bajorans, was situated in the left chest cavity as a Human heart would be.
Overall, her organ development was human, but the placement was utterly Bajoran. She had the acute hearing and olfactory senses of the Romulans, but her reflexes were that of a normal human. Her body temperature was 93 degrees Fahrenheit - low for a Human or Romulan but normal for a Bajoran. Her bone structure was completely Romulan, with the warrior race's excellent shock-absorption and muscle support.
All in all, she was a medical mystery - and a miracle. How she ever survived birth - on a planet with very little medical technology, no less! - was beyond McCoy. The odds were surely against a child of such cross-bred genes.
The doctor carried on with thoughts of this vein until he realized that the girl was waiting patiently for his instructions. She was sitting on the edge of the medical table, her semi-bare legs swinging.
Uhura had kindly donated a set of clothing for Mika to wear. They did not realize until her old shift had been destroyed that the girl was far too small for any of Uhura's clothes. In fact, she was smaller than any woman on board. New clothes could not be procured until they reached their next destination, so Uhura's would have to do.
Mika was wearing a blue leisure shirt with the sleeves cuffed several times and a skirt that fell to her knees. She would wear neither shoes nor nylons, much to Uhura's dismay.
McCoy returned to the task at hand, pointing at one of the medium-sized letters on the screen.
"Can you tell me what this says?"
She shook her head slowly.
"What about this?" He indicated a larger letter.
"No."
McCoy was confused. Her other senses were extraordinary! He tried a different approach.
"Mika, can you read that sign?" he asked, pointing to the sign above the recovery room door.
She shook her head again.
He realized what the problem was, and asked kindly, "Can you read at all?"
The girl looked down and said in a small voice, "I never learned."
"Well, you will now. I'll set you up with a few of my old book-tapes, and we'll have you reading in a jiffy."
Mika could scarcely contain her happiness. Food, clothes, and now reading? She had never known such a world existed.
* Dr. McCoy devoted the next two days to teaching his young patient to read. She learned the Standard alphabet in three hours and could pick out words within the next. Soon after she was devouring his Dr. Suess book-tapes at an incredible speed.
"It took me five years to learn to read," McCoy muttered to Kirk on the second day as they stood in the doctor's office, sharing a drink. "It took her half a day. Makes you feel kinda stupid, doesn't it?"
Mika was certainly progressing, in more ways than one. She had begun to call both the doctor and the captain by name, and she no longer ate like a starving beast. She was not so skitterish, and smiles were more common on her face.
Her bruises were fading, and along with them, her fears. Or so it seemed.