The Present

Of course, Uhura mused as she slipped back into her seat on the bridge of this strange, other-universe Enterprise, things hadn't quite worked out the way she planned. The ion storm, the strange behavior of the transporter, then the disorienting landing in strange clothes with a clean-shaven, bodyguard-less Spock confronting them had staggered them all, but for once McCoy had grasped the situation before anyone else and hustled them all off to Sickbay. Which was where Scott had figured out that somehow the storm and the transporters had conspired to land them in an alternate dimension, where the Empire was a Federation with member worlds and allies instead of slave colonies and conquered enemies. This strange, soft universe was a challenge, but Uhura was confident they could keep their true identities secret long enough for Scott to figure out how to get them back where they belonged. Or, barring that, until Kirk could figure out a way to turn this side-trip to their advantage.

These fools use their ship for peaceful scientific exploration, she thought scornfully, struggling to keep her true emotions out of her expression. Not as the warship it was meant to be. How difficult could it be to trick them for a few days? Scott was supposed to be a genius; he would find a way to get them home.

Yes, they'd landed in the wrong universe, but she could already see the advantages. Kirk had reluctantly agreed with McCoy that he should keep away from Spock until he had time to figure things out, and had even more reluctantly agreed to be "sick" until he decided how to handle the situation. Everyone else he'd ordered to emulate this ship's crew, to keep a low profile until he came up with a plan. Which, he'd assured them, he would.

However, there were limits. He needed to keep his appetites under check, but self-denial was never his strong suit. She doubted he'd make it through the night without needing a bottle of something...and someone to warm his bed. No doubt he would instinctively, thoughtlessly go after Moreau, and this version wasn't one to let Kirk paw her without reporting it to Spock. Which would give them all away.

Spock was another advantage, no matter how suspicious he seemed of them. If she played her cards right, she could use him in her scheme to get what she wanted, and not just for the duration of their time in this alternate universe. It had been an additional shock when they'd first entered Sickbay to see Nurse Chapel there, waiting for them. McCoy had gotten rid of her with some excuse--but not before Uhura saw the hungry look he gave the blonde. In their universe, Spock had safely stashed Chapel away once it was confirmed that their Pon Farr mating had resulted in a child. McCoy had always resented the First Officer for that, and for the fact that Chapel had rejected the doctor over the Vulcan in the first place. Chapel's presence had truly convinced Uhura that they'd somehow switched places with their other-universe twins, and given her the first inkling of a plan that she was now ready to put into motion. Just as soon as her shift was over...

Time had never seemed to move so slowly. Thank whatever gods existed in this universe that the technology was so close as to be virtually identical, even though their mission here seemed to be that of beggars pleading with a weaker antagonist. Disgusting. Kirk's orders back home were no doubt to destroy the population centers, force the Halkans into slave camps, and make them mine the dilithium for the Enterprise crew and the Empire. All the firepower this ship contained, all the strength of the Federation and Starfleet behind them, and this universe's Kirk was only authorized to negotiate with mere words, pleading with the Halkan weaklings for the right to mine. Just the thought of it made her sick.

Uhura dismissed such concerns from her mind with little difficulty. Right now the Halkans were Spock's problem. He was authorized to negotiate--negotiate!--in Kirk's absence, and Uhura could care less how he handled the situation. As long as they remained in orbit until the four of them could return home. Her shift would be over in an hour, and she would find it easy enough to head to Sickbay. Lt. Marlena Moreau had been found unconscious in the bio lab and brought to Dr. McCoy for treatment. Uhura had sent a surreptitious message to him, asking him to stall until she could meet with him. He'd agreed, and soon she could finally put her plan into motion.

oOo

Uhura strolled into Sickbay with a casual glance around. It appeared to be deserted, except for the still-unconscious form of Marlena Moreau. "Dr. McCoy?"

He appeared in the door to his office. "Uhura," he acknowledged coldly. He held a mug in one hand, and she didn't have to smell it to know it contained alcohol of one kind or another. The doctor was rarely without a bottle at his side, even on duty. Another weakness she could exploit. "We're alone except for the patient you sent me earlier. Would you mind telling me why?"

Uhura glanced down at the woman she considered her rival, no matter which universe they inhabited. "You know the captain. He'd go after her, give us all away by trying to force her to act like someone she's not. So I took matters into my own hands. For our protection."

McCoy scowled. "How do you know she wouldn't welcome his attention? How do you know they're not already--" He made a vulgar gesture with his hands.

"Because I asked her, and she said they hadn't met," Uhura snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, these people are disgustingly honest. Besides, I checked her out. She just transferred here a week ago. Fraternizing isn't exactly encouraged in this universe's Starfleet. Especially not between the captain and members of his crew." She'd spent her idle time on the bridge surreptitiously researching what she could, and the lunch she'd arranged to share with Christine Chapel had given her additional insight into how things worked here.

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "What a pity," he murmured, taking a moody swig of his drink.

Uhura moved closer, reaching for the mug. He let her to take it, watched in undisguised amusement as she took a dainty sip before handing it back, brushing her fingers against his. "I said it wasn't encouraged, I didn't say it didn't take place." She looked directly into his eyes, wetting her lips with anticipation. This was it. If McCoy agreed to help her, she was home free. "How would you like to do a little fraternizing with this universe's Christine Chapel?"

McCoy stiffened, then stared at her suspiciously. "What do you mean? How? If I lay a finger on her she'll scream bloody murder. What I told the captain holds true for all of us; we need to figure out a way home before we get found out. Even these fools could hurt us, or worse, ruin our chances of getting back where we belong." But he was intrigued; she saw it in his eyes and so continued to press him.

"Chapel's in love with Spock here, too, but he doesn't even give her a second look," Uhura said, ignoring McCoy's fretful complaints. "Apparently she and my counterpart are friends." She grimaced in distaste. "We ate a meal together, and she kept going on about how worried they were about us when the transporters were acting up and how she hoped the captain would recover soon. I let her babble, then I got her to open up about Spock. It seems 'we've' discussed her feelings for him before, so I let her go on and on, she was really in a 'poor me' mood. The gist of it is that she wants him, but he isn't interested."

"So?" McCoy sneered. "He wasn't particularly interested in our Chapel until Pon Farr hit him too far away for that pretty little Vulcan wife of his to be of any use."

Uhura nodded. "True. But it's different here. And I have a plan that takes advantage of those differences." She tapped him on the chest with her forefinger. "I'll get her for you, all tied up with a pretty bow."

"How?" McCoy demanded. He hadn't turned her down, which meant he was interested. Good.

Uhura smiled and ran her finger along the collar of his shirt. "I'm going to help the captain keep his appetites in check while Marlena is indisposed--and you're going to make sure she stays indisposed until we get back where we belong."

"Again, how does Christine fit into this?" He was more interested in how she intended to pay him for services rendered than in the details of her plan, all to the good as far as Uhura was concerned.

"I'm going to make her think I spent the night with Spock. You are going to step in to comfort her, along with something to help her drown her sorrows." She tapped the rim of the mug meaningfully. "Give her enough to make her think she drank more than she really did, then slip something into her glass to make her do what you want. Be a shoulder for her to cry on, get her to your quarters--do I have to spell out the rest for you?"

McCoy shook his head, a grin plastered across his face that did not bode well for Christine Chapel. "It could work. But there's something else you want, just keeping Moreau unavailable for the Captain is to everyone's advantage, not just yours," he pointed out. "So what do you really want from me?"

"I want you to remove my contraceptive implant, and I want you to do it in such a way that we can blame the ion storm and the transporter glitch. After all, it landed us in a different universe, in our own bodies wearing our counterparts' clothing." It was plausible, she knew it was, just as she knew that McCoy could pull it off. If he were properly motivated. "If it can do all that, pull us right out of our uniforms and into someone else's, then a little thing like a contraceptive implant wouldn't stand a chance." The beauty of the scheme was obvious; since the men didn't have to wear the implants, she was the only one who would have been affected.

McCoy shook his head. "You're playing with fire, Uhura, you know that. Kirk isn't a fool, and he hasn't risen this far this fast because he allows himself to be played. You get him into bed just as your implant is gone? We all know what happens when they're removed..."

"If you do your part, he won't know," Uhura countered, impatient with the doctor's pessimism. The way the implants worked was part of her plan, another obvious fact. They served a dual purpose: emitting an electronic field that acted as a spermicide, and putting the ovaries into metabolic stasis. Six hours after they were removed, the body returned to a fertile state. The only reason they were ever removed was for just that purpose: procreation. It was what their Christine Chapel had done when she realized Spock was going into the Vulcan rut cycle. "Mention the possibility to him, act worried, tell him you didn't realize it until you analyzed my medical scans---but not until after it's too late." Her voice turned wheedling. "You convinced him Moreau's illness was an accident, didn't you?"

McCoy looked doubtful. "Maybe. Maybe not. I guess you'll find out tonight. Won't you."

Uhura smirked triumphantly. "You bet I will. How long will it take you to remove the implant?"