Uhura hurried to the mess hall. McCoy and Scott were standing outside the door, each with a stack of programs in hand. Scott was resplendent in his formal kilt, the red of his tunic and hose contrasting with the grey and black Scott tartan. Uhura kissed him on the cheek and took some programs from his hand. "I forgot how gorgeous you are in your kilt. Can I get your number?"
Scott bowed. "I think ye already have it, Lassie. Yer looking fine yerself tonight."
"Thanks, Scotty. I definitely need to give you a call." She turned to McCoy with a hug. Leaning close, she sniffed and winked. "Mmmm. You smell scrumptious!"
McCoy blushed, grinning. "It's a special occasion."
Uhura smiled back at him. "Of course it is."
She peeked around the door. The stage was now adorned with two large potted plants from the botany lab. She hoped Sulu had vouched for their dispositions. Some of his exotic flora were a little too alive. A fabric runner covered the plain piano, with a column of candle holders placed on top. T'Phol's violin was held in a spidery stand beside the piano, and the Moog was on a table at the rear of the small stage. The room was at least half full already with more coming in. When under normal green conditions, over a quarter of the four hundred thirty plus crew were off duty at any given time. The reconfigured mess hall seated one hundred fifty-six, either at tables or in the added chairs, with standing room for perhaps another fifty. In addition to the actual venue, viewing screens had been set up in several other locations, including the smaller mess halls, and the crew lounges, and the live video would be available on any screen through the comm system with audio piped throughout the ship.
Tamura was seated stage right with her PADD. Uhura watched as she launched the drone, now dubbed Snitch. It floated over to her and paused. She waved into its lens and it continued on a pass around the room. Chekov, Sulu, Kyle and DeSalle were seated together at a front table. The one beside them was still unoccupied, earmarked as the Captain's Table.
She turned back to McCoy. "Have you seen the Captain yet? He is giving the welcome and introduction."
McCoy shrugged. "He'll be here. Probably with two minutes to spare."
Kirk actually arrived five minutes before show time, as rakish, debonair, and put together as usual. McCoy wondered how Kirk always looked like royalty in his dress uniform, wearing it easily as if he had been born in it. Even Kirk's hair cooperated, simply looking attractively sporty, although it was mussed. Without straightener, his own stuck out in various directions with the appearance that he had forgotten to use a comb.
Kirk greeted them, having a quiet word with Uhura first, who then went to talk to Tamura. He looked around the doorway at the crowd. The room was practically full, with the standing room becoming occupied quickly.
"Who's minding the store?" McCoy asked.
"Leslie," he replied. "How are you feeling?"
"Like a pig wearin' lipstick," McCoy said wryly.
"What?" Kirk shook his head, and stepped a little closer, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Do I smell cologne, Bones?"
McCoy rolled his eyes. "For Christ's sake, Jim. Act your age."
Kirk chuckled and might have continued teasing, but Uhura returned, all business.
Gentlemen, we are right on time. Tam says everything is ready and working as planned. Doctor McCoy, would you like to go fetch T'Phol? The Captain will make a few short remarks, then she can come in and take the stage. You can bring her in the other door, there's a break in the curtain there. Our table is on the front. Captain, I'll give you the signal when they get here."
Kirk looked at Uhura, "Yes, Ma'am. You're in charge here." He smiled. "And I'm glad of it."
"Thank you, Sir. I guess that was a compliment. Go, Len."
It was not a long walk to T'Phol's quarters. Cassady was seated in the alcove, evidently neither Andorian was planning to attend the concert. He waved at McCoy. "I have my screen tuned," he said.
"Good," McCoy said, "sorry you can't be there in person."
He paused for a few seconds before he rang, gathering his thoughts. The door swished open and he stepped through. His breath caught and his planned casual greeting stopped before he could utter it. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"I've come to escort Cinderella to the ball." He almost winced. Cinderella? So much for cultivating the graceful art of conversation, or even wooing if it was come to that.
T'Phol blinked, then the by now familiar amused eyebrow lifted.
"Does this mean you turn into a rat at midnight? Or I into a scullery maid? I seem to be missing my glass slippers."
"No, this fairy tale has a different ending. The beautiful princess and the handsome prince will dance all evening under the star light." He paused. "And you are indeed beautiful tonight. I misspoke, not Cinderella. You're Arwen half-Elven, with stars in your hair and galaxies in your eyes."
Their gazes locked, he felt the flare of connection and McCoy knew he would lose himself there. He looked away first,dragging himself back to the task at hand.
"It's time to go," he said softly. She nodded. He held his arm out and she slipped her hand through his elbow. They walked the short distance in silence. Uhura was stationed by the door watching for them. She motioned for Kirk to begin and went to seat herself. McCoy could see the edge of the stage through a slit in the curtain. Kirk welcomed the crew, spoke a moment or so about T'Phol's career, and then invited her to take the stage. The room lights dimmed. Wordlessly T'Phol handed McCoy her shawl and he walked her out to much applause. He handed her up the steps, then went to the table where Uhura, Scott and Kirk were already seated.
T'Phol bowed to the audience, her hand on the piano. Then she took her seat, and was bathed in stage light, the highlights and shadows contouring her angular features. The room hushed as she adjusted the piano bench, resting her fingertips lightly on the keys for a few seconds, and then she began.
McCoy was not surprised that she had chosen to start with Mozart. He could sense a clear difference between her informal playing and that in concert. She was pin-point focused on the essence of the music and carried the audience with her, himself included. He settled back, clearing his mind until there was only T'Phol on stage and the music. The Mozart was lighthearted, lively and delicate. It finished to enthusiastic applause, and she rose from the bench and bowed.
"Thank you. That was Five Contredanses for Orchestra, adapted for piano, along with three short minuets, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He wrote dances in three forms, and was known to compose them for full score in a few hours, sometimes to be performed the same day. Both he and our next composer, Ludwig van Beethoven, wrote during Earth's classical period, but Beethoven is often considered the first romantic era composer. He had lost most of his hearing by the time he composed Sonata Number. Fourteen in C-sharp minor, still one of the most popular piano pieces ever written or performed. I now present all three movements, Adigio sostenuto, Allegretto, Presto agitato. Ladies and gentlemen, The Moonlight Sonata."
McCoy supposed that many people would be familiar with The Moonlight Sonata. Several in the crowd had heard T'Phol herself playing the first movement just a few days before in the rec room, but not with this kind of focus and intensity. The first movement was gentle and soft, the second a bit more lively, but she attacked the third with an intentness and ferocity that fairly crackled around her. He found himself leaning forward, gripping her shawl he still held, watching her hands dance over the keys in a blur of motion. When the final note faded and the cheering started he breathed again, forcibly relaxing his hands. It took a minute for the noise to begin to abate. Uhura rested her hand on his arm, he absently covered it with his own, squeezing briefly. She leaned closer.
"What is in the package under the table?"
"A surprise. You'll see in a little while."
T'Phol changed the pace, playing songs from a currently running musical, and then a series of tunes that were present day hits. They were well received, particularly by the younger crew members. For McCoy, much of the emotional impact was missing from the modern work, so he relaxed and studied T'Phol's movement and expression as she played. Her style was somewhat utilitarian rather than highly embellished. She played with little wasted motion, but her arms and hands were graceful and strong, her posture erect but not rigid. She closed her eyes frequently, whether looking inward or reaching out he could not guess. He noticed the snitch traveling around the stage and about the room, floating among the audience, then his attention was drawn back to the stage as the applause quietened and T'Phol spoke.
"Now I would like to introduce two lesser known twentieth century composers. First, Italian Ludovico Einaudi, who wrote many popular soundtracks for movie and commercial entertainment of the day. Then David Lanz, an American pioneer of what came to be known as New Age Music. Both artists featured and performed solo piano extensively."
McCoy was drawn by the light and airy mood and once again lost himself in the music. At their conclusion, T'Phol removed her violin and bow from the stand, waiting for the applause to quieten. Her eyes met his for a second and he felt rather than saw her smile.
"So far tonight we have visited Earth's classical and romantic periods, current pop, and twenty-first century modern. Along with classical and romantic, baroque is part of the common practice era. Antonio Vivaldi's The Four Seasons is an iconic baroque piece, published in seventeen-twenty five. This is Autumn."
Listening to her playing violin in concert was, just as the piano, an almost completely different experience than hearing it in her cabin. McCoy thought about holding the Starry Night, and wondered if it, too, would have a more visceral reaction.
Autumn concluded, and T'Phol looked out over the audience, acknowledging the applause. She crossed the stage, turning on the Moog and turned back to address the audience.
"I have been working on a new composition since boarding the Enterprise and spending some time watching warp light. This Moog Synthesizer can reproduce the sound of many instruments, in this case, the hydrocrystalophone. This is the debut performance of The Enterprise Etude." She touched a button and a soft ethereal sound eased into the room. It was oddly compelling, almost like listening to an echo from chimes or bells being rang underwater. She both plucked the violin strings and played with the bow. In places it had a faintly discordant, uneasy tone, at other times it seemed quiet and still. At the end it soared and garnered a standing ovation which she accepted gracefully.
"Thank you for your kind welcome of that piece," she said when everyone had regained their seats. "That was originally intended to be the last number for tonight. However, I shall present one final work as an encore, one that I have never played in concert. This music was written by Ralph Vaughan Williams in England. He began it before World War One, but it remained unpublished until the war ended. It is based on a poem by George Meredith by the same name, The Lark Ascending."
She stood with eyes closed for a minute, her head down. He saw the rise and fall of her chest as she took a deep breath, placed the violin under her chin and began.
It was beautiful, at once both the saddest and most uplifting piece of music McCoy had ever heard. In his universe everything else ceased to exist and he was alone, lost in its spell. It eased his heart, shattered it, then comforted it again. Except for her violin, the room was dead silent. At some point he was aware that Uhura was gripping his hand and that he was holding hers just as tightly. He swallowed against the lump in his throat as it drew toward the close. The end notes were very soft and gentle as they faded into complete silence. T'Phol slowly lowered her instrument, her lashes making long shadows across her cheek. For a few heartbeats no one moved and there was no sound at all. Then Uhura dropped his hand and stood, clapping slowly. He looked at her. Her cheeks were wet. On her other side Scott rose to his feet and joined her. He heard a cry of "Bravo!" from the back of the room and then everyone was on their feet at once. T'Phol was very still, arms at her side. As the applause swelled, she looked up, her expression somewhere between stunned and jubilant. He rose and joined the glorious tumult. She finally took a bow, raising her arms in a triumphant salute, causing the roar to grow, then she looked at him. He did not break the contact.
Uhura reached under the table and offered the package to him. "Do you need this now?" she asked, eyes shining.
He slipped the ribbon wrapped bouquet from the box and stepped up to the edge of the stage. She put the violin on the stand, bending toward him as he placed the flowers in her arms and the audience shouted their approval. Her fingers felt cold when their hands briefly brushed together, and he shivered. He moved down to the side of the stage to stand in the shadow. The ovation went on for several minutes, he could imagine the entire ship reverberated with it. The lights came up, and Kirk climbed the steps to the stage, took her hand for another bow, then motioned to hush the room.
"I am sure you all join me in saying a heartfelt thank you to Miss Grayson for tonight's show. One word. Extraordinary. A mere thank you is insufficient."
He waited for the applause to abate.
"I was asked to remind you that a reception follows next door. Thank you for attending. Enjoy the rest of the evening." He bowed to and led her from the stage.
Uhura quickly pressed Sulu's table into crowd control duty so the throng would be channeled toward the rear door and then into the officer's mess rather than overwhelming T'Phol and to some extent, McCoy. She had clutched his hand during the encore. It was cold, just like it had been the first time T'Phol played for them, but he hadn't seemed dazed or disoriented, just deeply immersed. She wanted to be sure he was all right before they headed to the reception. For that matter, T'Phol looked a little gobsmacked as well. They were both standing near the stage steps with the Captain and Scott. She moved to join them.
McCoy was placing the shawl around T'Phol's shoulders. She was still holding the flowers. Uhura took a moment to admire them.
"What did you do?" she asked McCoy. "Raid the arboretum?"
She was relieved when he turned to her with eyes clear and sharp. "Yes, with Sulu's direction. Some of these are from his personal collection in the botany lab. I guess you noticed he decorated the stage,"
"I'm glad you thought to ask him." She looked at the others. "I am sure T'Phol needs to unwind for a minute before the reception. We could go to her quarters for a bit."
T'Phol was beginning to recover her normal composure, but she nodded gratefully at Uhura. "Yes, I could use a hot tea before greeting people."
"You go on," Kirk said. "I'm planning to put in an appearance at the party, then head back to work. Again, incredible performance, Miss Grayson." He bowed, reaching for her hand and brought it to his lips in a very formal kiss, which she took in stride. He headed to the reception, the others went out the side door to T'Phol's cabin. Cassady was still on duty and began applauding as soon as he saw them approach. T'Phol paused to thank him before palming her door open.
The four of them filled the cabin. Uhura took the flowers and stepped out. McCoy pulled a chair over for T'Phol to sit, programmed the tea and handed it to her. She cupped her hands around it, savoring the warmth on her chilled fingers. He leaned against the counter and and watched her, folding his hands under his arms. Scott produced a PADD from somewhere and began reviewing the snitch video.
Uhura returned without the flowers. "Cass is getting a vase for them," she said to T'Phol. She leaned closer. "Lark Ascending was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."
"Aye," Scott said. "Ye brought a tear to my eye with that one, Lass."
"I imagine there were lots of tears in that room, including mine," Uhura said. "It was sublime, simply astounding."
T'Phol inclined her head. "Thank you." She cradled her cup, taking another sip. "It was a remarkable experience. The choice to add it to the program was the correct one."
She finished her tea just as Cassady returned with the flowers, now arranged in a tall glass vase. McCoy set them on the counter beside him, plucking a white bloom from the bunch. He inhaled the fragrance and offered it to T'Phol.
"It's gardenia," he said. "Sulu can tell you the exact genus and variety. They smell like home."
"You should wear it," Uhura said, reaching for her bag. She rummaged for a pin, then attached the blossom near her temple. T'Phol touched it lightly with her fingertips, then stood, adjusting the wrap about her shoulders. She looked at each of them.
"Thank you for the interlude, my friends, and for this evening. If you are ready, shall we attend the reception?"
McCoy offered his arm. His hands were warm.
