As M'Benga promised, it was a busy morning in Sickbay. It was mid-afternoon by the time McCoy signed off duty. He bypassed the guest alcove and headed straight for the main mess, thinking the team would still be busy preparing the stage. Although he was expecting change, he was still surprised when he entered the large room.
The transformation from eating area into a concert hall was almost complete. The front and side walls were screened with black drapery, hanging in heavy folds. A multi-sectioned baffle surrounded the new elevated stage floor. The stage, reached by two steps, was translucent and lit by patterns of light. He couldn't tell if they came from above or underneath. A lighting grid was suspended above the stage. The tables had been moved closer together in arcs across the room and more chairs had been placed in the rear. McCoy guessed the room would now seat a hundred fifty people and still leave some standing room on both sides. T'Phol was near the stage, directing the placement of the piano. Two men from engineering were maneuvering it into position using anti-grav units. Uhura, Scott, and Engineer Tamura were seated at a table. McCoy wound his way through the room and took a seat with them. Uhura leaned forward with a wide smile.
"What do you think? Impressive, isn't it?"
He nodded. "It's hard to believe this is the mess hall. Congratulations to you all on a great job."
Scott glanced up from his tablet, eyes warming in a smile. The floating video drone lay on the table. He and Tamura were busy with PADDs inputting the room's dimensions preparing to program the drone's trajectory.
"Aye, 'twas a group effort. Almost done except for the flight pattern. Tam here is a genius at that sort of thing."
Tamura looked up, acknowledging the compliment. "We're waiting now for the piano to be moved into place. Then we can do a test run." She turned her attention back to her work, making adjustments with the stylus.
McCoy watched as the piano was settled into position and the anti-grav units were removed. T'Phol placed the bench and then came to the table and sat beside Uhura. She nodded at him in greeting, a quick flash of warmth. Then Tamura leaned over with a question about camera angles which they discussed at some length, joined by Scott. Eventually they were ready to test the drone, so T'Phol moved to the stage and sat at the piano. Scott launched the device and they watched it flit around the stage and above the audience, sweeping gracefully from a variety of heights and angles.
'Play a bit, if you don't mind," called Tamura, standing and moving closer to the stage. "I'd like to try something, but we need to be sure it won't bother you while performing."
T'Phol complied, playing a piece that McCoy did not recognize. Tamura worked with the stylus and the sphere floated on stage to within a few inches of the keyboard. T'Phol paused, turning to her.
"That is rather close. What would happen if I made impact with it?"
"Nothing serious," Tamura replied. "It would be knocked from its planned trajectory, but it would recover and resume. I will be able to adjust it at any point during the actual performance." She thought a moment. "Play using your most vigorous movements. I will set a wider avoidance parameter."
After a few trials and adjustments, they were both satisfied with the result at the piano and they repeated the process with the violin. Tamura invited T'Phol and Scott to look at her PADD as she replayed the test footage. The drone hovered over her shoulder as they watched. Tamura turned, taking it in her hand. "Good job, drone," she said fondly, hitting the off button.
T'Phol looked at her, raising an amused eyebrow. "That could be a Golden Snitch," she said. "The engineering crew might enjoy a game of Quidditch in the hanger bay."
Tamura and Scott looked puzzled, but in the background she heard McCoy's quick bark of laughter. "Quidditch is a game from a series of early twenty-first century fantasy novels," T'Phol explained. "It involves teams on flying brooms attempting to capture a small golden winged ball."
Tamura laughed. "What about it, Commander? Can we put together some anti-grav brooms?"
"Yes, Scotty," Uhura said, rising from her chair and joining them. "I'd give a week's pay to see you on a flying broom."
"Ach!" Scott shook his head, his expression rather dour. "Then they'd be treating broken necks in Sickbay instead of sprained wrists." He muttered something under his breath that T'Phol suspected was a Scottish curse.
McCoy grunted in agreement. "I don't have a spell of healing in my bag."
Tamura smiled, unabated. "Oh well, it would have been glorious." She handed the drone to Scott. "This Snitch is ready to fly, Sir, with four different patterns. I'll adjust the timing during the actual concert tonight."
"Aye, fine job, Tam. This evening, then." He turned to T'Phol. "Yer lighting is ready, Lass. And the mics and recording stations, they're all good to go."
"This was a large undertaking to be accomplished in such a short period of time. I shall endeavor to do justice to your work."
"I've nae a doubt about that, Miss T'Phol. If ye need anythin' else, let me know. I'll be here early tonight before show time." He bowed a bit, picking up his PADD from the table and waved at Uhura and McCoy before exiting the room.
"Can I help you prepare?" Uhura asked. "I am free for the rest of the day."
"My usual routine is to take some private practice time, followed by a short meditation period before the performance. In this case, getting dressed will be simple. I did not bring concert attire, so my appearance will be rather informal by necessity."
Uhura's lips formed a silent O. "I didn't think of that. You are welcome to borrow something of mine, but it would be far too short. Why don't we visit the quartermaster and see what the wardrobe department can come up with?"
"You have a wardrobe department on a star ship?"
"Mostly for uniforms, but sometimes landing parties need to be outfitted in local or historical garb. They do not normally fabricate personal clothing, each crew member is responsible for their own, but this is a special circumstance."
McCoy stood, edging around the table. "Is there anything you need me to do? I wouldn't be much use on your dress foray."
Uhura shook her head. "I think everything is under control. Could you pick up the programs from Yeoman Maravelle in records? They were ready earlier, but we were busy in here."
"I'll do that." He looked at T'Phol. "And you?" His tone was pitched low, somehow intimate.
A beat of silence. "I am fine." Her voice was also soft and smooth.
Uhura watched their eyes meet and had the idea T'Phol was answering a different question than the one spoken aloud. McCoy nodded, evidently satisfied. "I have an important errand, too. I'll see you both later."
Two sets of eyes followed his departure, then Uhura turned to T'Phol. "Come on, let's get you a knock-em-dead outfit for tonight."
"A render them briefly unconscious outfit will probably suffice," T'Phol deadpanned. Uhura looked at her in surprise, then burst into laughter as they headed down the corridor.
