Author's Note: This final chapter of this story dramatizes the aftermath of "The Enterprise Incident."
As always, your comments are appreciated.
29 days later . . .
On a Friday morning, Christopher Pike and Spock sat in their usual booth at a local diner. Having finished their meals, the Captain enjoyed his usual cup of black coffee, while Spock drank tea.
Pike remarked, "Eichelberger and Khosa are shipping out tomorrow on the USS Mandela."
Spock replied, "It appears you will have little remaining of your senior crew when the Enterprise is once again ready for service."
"Of course, I can't blame them. Since nearly every component of the ship must be tested and then retested, it will take nearly a year for her to be certified for voyage. If other opportunities arise before then, I can understand those who accept the offers. It almost feels unnatural not to be on tour, again."
"The Enterprise is worth the wait, sir." Spock opined.
Pike smiled in agreement with the Vulcan's statement. "Yes, she is Spock. She's definitely worth the wait."
The Captain heard the signal of his communicator. Checking the source of the incoming message, he informed Spock, "It's Jack." Pike answered the call. "Son, don't tell me you're still at home."
"I can't find my blue shirt." The boy told him.
"Jack, you're not 10 years old anymore. You need to keep up with your own things."
"I was sure it was in the hamper, but now its not there."
Pike responded, "If it was in the hamper, you probably don't need to wear it."
"Dad, our teacher wants us to wear one of the Federation colors when we attend the Awards presentation at the Academy this morning."
"Well, if you can't find your blue shirt, I'm sure you have a red, green or gold one that's clean."
"But the blue one is the right shade." Jack argued.
"You should have dealt with this last night when you had more time to look for it." Pike quickly checked his chronometer. "You have just enough time now to find an alternative and head to school before you're late."
"Why don't I just wait for the class to come to campus?" The boy contended. "Doesn't the Awards ceremony start at 9 AM?"
"Jack, you are going to school and then coming to the Academy with you teacher and the rest of your classmates like we agreed last night."
"No, Dad, we didn't agree to it. That's what you told me." Jack retorted.
"Find a shirt, young man." Pike said tersely, using his command voice. "Get to school."
After a pause, Jack reluctantly replied. "Yes, sir." Then he added, "I guess I'll have to find something in your closet."
"Jack!" Pike tried to call to him, but Jack had already discontinued the transmission. The Captain shook his head, as he put away his communicator. The near "hero worship" he had enjoyed from his son the first two weeks following the "Enterprise Incident" was but a memory. Pike realized he was back to being the father of an ever-changing teenage boy. He commented to his First Officer, "Let that be a lesson to you. Don't have kids until you're ready for them, Spock."
The Vulcan looked to his Captain and replied dispassionately, "I'll try to remember that, sir."
"I suppose we should probably also be on our way soon, if we're going to get ready in time for the ceremony." Pike took out his credit card. "I think it's my turn to pay this morning." He got the attention of the waitress and took care of the transaction. The two Starfleet Officers walked out of the diner and headed back to campus.
Spock told Pike, "I do not know if I will make it to the proceedings, Captain. I am running an experiment that is at a critical stage and would like to tend to it this morning."
"Oh, no you don't." Pike told him. "The ceremony has already been postponed twice to accommodate your schedule."
"I never asked for a postponement, sir. The awards should be bestowed on you and the other brave crew members who saved the ship."
"The crew will be presented with one of Starfleet's highest honors. It would not be fitting to receive the award without you. Members of the Federation Security Council will also be in attendance to witness this event."
"I do not deserve it."
Pike studied the Vulcan, before he told him, "Spock, we've been friends for a longtime. However, there are times I just don't understand you. Your actions that day saved the Enterprise and hundreds of lives, including my own. While onboard the Romulan ship, if you had not detonated the explosive on their bridge, our vessel would have been an easy target for their photon torpedoes. I'm just glad lady luck was on our side and we were able to transport you to safety without a split second to spare."
"Sir, your account is accurate, yet, these facts do not alter my reticence to take part in this exercise."
Pike stopped their progression and looked sternly at Spock, "Ambassador Sarek has refused any recognition for his part in the events of that day. As a civilian, this is his prerogative. However, Spock, you are a Starfleet Officer and are expected to proudly receive this award. On my order, you will be present in the Great Assembly Hall at no less than 8:45 AM. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir." The Vulcan answered.
Now inside the campus gates, the two walked onto the grounds of Officers Housing. Pike commented, "From what I've heard, the Romulans seemed all too prepared with a response to the treachery involving the Enterprise. They claim the entire conspiracy was led by a rogue Commander acting independently of the Empire."
"The Federation Council will eventually decide to accept the explanation, since believing otherwise would no doubt lead to another war which may place millions of lives in jeopardy." Spock remarked. "They will put off dealing with the matter, until more Romulan duplicity forces the issue once again."
"It may just be wishful thinking, but I hope that day will be a long way off. With the exception of those on the Romulan ship, we must be grateful we did not suffer any deaths."
"Only the one." The Vulcan replied.
"What did you say, Spock?" Pike questioned his First Officer, as they stopped in front of his apartment.
"Sir . . . " Spock began, but then decided not to speak his mind. Instead, he answered. "I suppose I must learn the meaning of gratitude."
26 days ago . . .
In Berkeley's Cesar Chavez Park, Spock's fist hit Sevat's jaw with such force, the Vulcan agent fell hard against the ground. A full moon shined its light down upon the two Vulcans, but there was little clarity of vision between them.
"A revisit to our youthful transgressions, Spock?" Sevat quipped. "I thought we had gotten past such ill-will between each other."
"This is no time for levity, Sevak. You know why I am here."
"You have a strange way of expressing your appreciation." He brazenly replied.
"You had no right to touch her!" An incensed Spock told him, as he reached down and pulled Sevat up to his feet.
"I saved her life." Sevat quickly asserted, to avoid another strike from the one he knew to be the superior martial arts expert. Then, the Vulcan agent added, "What did you do for her? Did you not tell me you killed her child?"
Sevat's last rancorous question took hold of Spock and caused him to release his captive. After a few moments, the shaken First Officer replied, "I told you of the circumstances. Before I was transported off the Romulan ship, the imposter implied she was the surrogate for the child. However, the Commander knew not the difference between reality and fiction."
"You said yourself she was preparing a nursery in her quarters. If she were not the surrogate, the actual one was obviously on the ship. Did you not detonate an explosive device that ultimately led to the destruction of the Romulan ship and all of its inhabitants? Whether or not the Commander was the actual surrogate or not, the child's life was ended as a result of your actions."
"I did not intend for it to happen." Spock tried to defend himself.
"Do you really believe Nyota will understand that?" Sevat argued. "Did I not tell you of the condition I found her? The Romulans were going to leave her to die alone strapped to a cold, steel gurney at an abandoned medical clinic. I found her by listening to her hysterical wailing over the abduction of the embryo."
In Spock's eyes, Sevat could see the pain his account brought to his fellow Vulcan.
Sevat continued, "I had no choice, but to administer the Vulcan nerve pinch to subdue her. Afterwards, it did not take me long to learn from Admiral Pok's liaison of the end to the conflict and the fact the crew would be sequestered in order to participate in a full debriefing of the incident for at least 72 hours. That left me alone to decide on what measures to take to ensure Nyota's well-being."
"You should not have touched her." Spock protested vehemently. "You had no right to enter her mind."
Spock thoughts ran back to a time earlier that afternoon. The debriefing of the incident had actually lasted five days. Starfleet provided a SkyBus to return those to campus who had positions at the Academy.
Nyota . . .
Having learned she was safe filled his heart with both gladness and anxiety . . .
Overjoyed to know her life had been spared . . .
Yet, experiencing trepidation concerning telling her the news about their child . . .
Nyota . . .
He found out she had spent one night at the Medical Treatment Facility and released the next day . . .
Looking up her schedule, he knew she should now be in the Graduate Student Office, holding office hours to tutor other Cadets . . .
Nyota . . .
He became aware of his pulse beating more rapidly as he entered the building and made his way to her . . .
Nyota . . .
My Nyota . . .
He wondered if he could resist touching her in such a public place . . .
Was it possible to resist taking her up in his arms?
Would she then reward his return by covering his face with her loving kisses?
Nyota . . .
Just as the Vulcan turned the corner leading to the office, he heard her gentle laugh . . .
And he knew . . .
The Vulcan knew . . .
Spock knew he was home . . .
He stood watching Nyota sitting behind a desk; her body turned slightly away from the door while she was absorbed in talking with someone on her communicator.
He told himself . . .
I can wait . . .
The sight of her is truly a feast for my eyes . . .
It shall sustain me until I have a chance to taste her with my lips . . .
"All right, Gaila." Nyota spoke into her communicator. "I'll join you and the rest of the gang for 'Girls Night' . . . Yes . . . Yes . . . I promise I'll stay out at least to 10:30 PM . . . You know I can't stay any later than that . . . I have my language lessons with Prof. Sevat tomorrow and . . . Gaila, how many times do I have to tell you Prof. Sevat said your solution was quite useful . . . You just want me to tell you, once again, that you were right and I was wrong . . . No, he didn't give me another clue to deal with and to be honest, I'm growing tired of that game . . . If he won't let me participate as a full player, I don't want to spend my time just helping him win these rounds . . . "
Uhura swiveled her chair back toward the door and saw the tall Vulcan standing before the desk. However, her reaction was not as he expected.
The East African appeared surprised by his presence . . .
But . . .
No semblance of happiness . . .
Or, even recognition . . .
Seemed to accompany it . . .
It was simply a surprise born from an appearance of an unexpected visitor . . .
And, before she spoke a singe word . . .
Spock realized 'they' were no longer the same . . .
"Gaila, I've got to go." Uhura said quickly and then put away her communicator. Coming from behind her desk, she said to Spock, "I must apologize, sir. I did not see you standing there. Is there something I can do for you?"
The Vulcan could not find his tongue.
"Sir?" She called to him, not understanding his silence. "I hope you weren't bothered by the utilization of an Academy issued communicator for personal use. Until we get closer to finals week - when it seems everybody needs help at once - it can get a bit boring just waiting for the occasional student to come by for assistance. I hope you understand, sir."
The Cadet could feel his eyes on her . . .
Penetrating . . .
Searching . . .
Trying desperately to make a connection . . .
"I'm sorry, sir." She said, now becoming uncomfortable by his stare. "I feel I'm a bit at a disadvantage. Do I know you?"
Her question cut into the Vulcan's soul . . .
What nightmare is this?
He questioned . . .
Am I mad or is she?
"Sir," She called to him, again, "Have we met, before?"
The Vulcan extricated himself from his disbelief and answered, "I am the one who must apologize Cadet . . ."
"Uhura, sir."
"Cadet Uhura."
She smiled, appreciative of the way he pronounced her name.
He continued, "I am Mr. Spock from the Physical Sciences Department."
"Mr. Spock?" She shook her head. "Now, this is embarrassing. Of course, I should have recognized you. You're probably one of the most famous members of the Academy faculty and a highly decorated Starfleet Officer. You have to believe me, sir. I'm really not as scatterbrained as I must seem to you right now. What can I do for you that could prove otherwise?" She asked brightly.
"Nothing."
"Nothing, sir?"
Spock looked upon her gentle face . . .
How he wanted to come close enough to allow himself take in her intoxicating perfume . . .
How he longed to stroke her soft, brown skin with his fingertips . . .
But . . .
He could not risk it . . .
She would not understand these 'unwanted' advances . . .
"I was passing by the office and saw you at your desk." Spock told her. "You reminded me of someone I once knew."
Despite his higher status, she dared to meet his gaze. Then, she found herself saying, "I hope she did not disappoint, sir."
And then, the Vulcan openly confessed, "This woman . . . was very good to me."
In silence, the two shared a few moments more before Cadet Medina entered the office.
"Excuse me, sir." Medina told him. "Am I disturbing a conference or something?"
"No." Spock answered. "I won't take any more of the Cadet's time."
Confronting Sevat, again, Spock repeated Uhura's question, "Do I know you? That is what she said to me, Sevat. The only way that would be possible is if you had violated her. You must have entered her mind and suppressed her memory of me . . . Memories of us . . . " Spock's anger quickly filled him, once more. "Tell me why I should not exact from you the price of this heinous act!"
"What option did I have?" Sevat replied. "Did you not want me to end her torment? Or, was I simply to allow her to wallow in such excruciating pain that it threatened to cause her irreparable damage?"
Spock felt helpless. He had not been there for Nyota and did not witnessed her distress. Could he really dispute Sevat's course of action? He needed to hear more.
"Tell me all." Spock demanded.
"After I found Nyota, I transported her to the Academy's Medical Treatment Facility using the Mobile Unit her abductors had abandoned. Having made arrangements through Admiral Pok, I was able to provide her with the medical attention she needed while altering records to suit her new prognosis."
"What new prognosis?"
"Taking into account Nyota's fragile mental state, I determined it would be best to suppress knowledge of the pregnancy. However, I needed something to explain the procedure she had experienced at the hands of her abductors. In this regard, Admiral Pok was most cooperative."
"It comes as no surprise why the Admiral was so forthcoming with his assistance."
"He cited security concerns."
"You know as well as I that his desire was to close doors that could possibly point to his irresponsiveness in heeding warnings of a credible threat to the Enterprise."
"Be that as it may, Spock, it served to benefit Nyota's situation."
In a secluded room at the Medical Treatment Facility, Uhura awakened in a warm, comfortable hospital bed. A female doctor soon entered the room.
"Good afternoon, Cadet Uhura." The physician said, checking her iTablet. "As a check, could you give me the date of your birth?"
"November 19." Uhura answered. "However, I don't know who you are."
"Dr. Rita Stevens. I'm a gynecologist, here, at the Medical Treatment Facility. You lucked out today in that the only beds we had available for new patients was in the Officers Ward."
"Doctor, I don't mean to appear so guarded, but I don't ever remember previously seeing you here." Uhura tried to sit up, but felt pain in her pelvis as she did.
"Hold on there, Ms. Uhura." The doctor said as she gently tried to help the Cadet find a more comfortable position. "Now that you're awake, I'll order something for your pain." Stevens began to leave the room, when Uhura called her back.
"But Doctor," she began, "I know this may sound strange, but I'm not sure why I'm even here."
Stevens moved back to Uhura's side. Her kind, concerned eyes made the Cadet more feel more at ease. The doctor asked, "What do you remember?"
"Funny, my memory appears a bit hazy." The East African remarked. "I volunteer as an Academy Ambassador and I do recall giving a few tours this morning for Federation Day." Uhura paused, trying to remember more.
"Take your time, Cadet Uhura, I'm not going anywhere."
"I wasn't feeling well . . . so . . . I headed over to a nearby Mobile Medical Unit and . . . and . . . I don't know why, but the next thing I remember is waking up a few minutes ago in this bed."
"Well, young lady," the doctor began, "you were quite fortunate the medical unit was nearby. Although you became unconscious, staff was able to quickly diagnose the problem and bring you here for surgery."
"Surgery?" Uhura became alarmed. "What happened?"
"A fibroid – a benign tumor located in your womb – seemed to have gotten the best of you."
"A fibroid? I don't remember ever having problems with fibroids before."
"The condition is actually quite common in women, but it occurs at a much higher rate in women of African descent. It is not unusual for women to live with this condition for years and not complain about its side effects, because they come to think of their circumstance as normal. Over the past weeks, do you recall your clothes feeling a bit tight? Did your lower abdomen appear to swell?"
Uhura searched her mind, and then nodded.
"I wouldn't even be surprised if someone were to look at you and think you were in the first stages of pregnancy."
Uhura stilled herself. Something did not seem right, but she did not know what to say. 'Of course, I couldn't be pregnant.' She told herself. 'How could I be pregnant?'
"This morning, the pain from one of the fibroids became too much for you to handle. However, you won't have to worry about that tumor, again. Benign tumors almost never grow back."
"How long do I need to remain here, doctor?"
"Just for tonight, as a precaution. However, you are still going to have to take it easy for the next few days as you heal. Since you otherwise are in excellent condition, I promise you in no time you will be unaware you even had the procedure or a problem with fibroids."
Suddenly becoming aware of the absence of her chain, she asked, "Dr. Stevens, do you know where someone may have placed my personal belongings. I'm concerned about one of the items."
"There's always a log made of a patient's personal effects." The doctor referred to her iTablet. "I'll pull up your list on the screen."
"Do you see a necklace listed? It's a silver chain with a pendant."
"No, there's nothing like that. I see listed a Cadet's uniform, shoes, underwear, and one communicator . . . nothing else."
"Oh, no."
The doctor could hear the disappointment in her voice. "I'm sorry, Ms. Uhura. It sounds as if the object had sentimental value for you."
"Yes, it did. It belonged to my mother."
"I see."
Uhura then asked, "I suppose I should also ask about an article I borrowed from one of the other Academy Ambassadors. It's a red neck scarf."
Dr. Stevens scanned the list, again. "No, Ms. Uhura. Unfortunately, I also find no listing of a scarf."
At the Caesar Chavez Park in Berkeley, Spock sat down on a bench under the weight of Sevat's disclosures.
Spock contended, "Sevat, there are too many loose ends for your scheme to be successful for long. Nyota was one of my students and also served as one of my Course Assistants."
"Her records can easily be changed to reflect this new reality." Sevat replied.
"Her former classmates may talk with her about the course." Spock charged.
"Spock, you are admittedly a well-respected faculty member, but you are not at the forefront of discussion for these Cadets. The subject is unlikely to arise."
"Dr. McCoy served as her doctor during her pregnancy."
"If he checks her records now, he will see her condition had been misdiagnosed. He will be reticent to discuss such an error with her and will believe she is being gracious by not speaking about it with him."
"Diarmuid is not one to be silent."
"Nyota will no longer has reason to visit the teahouse. Moreover, she and Diarmuid do not travel in the same circles."
"As her advisor, it is Dr. Greeley's role to be cognizant of Nyota's academic experiences. She will be aware of any alterations to her record and will call for an investigation."
"I can handle Dr. Greeley just as effectively as I have in the past." Sevat declared confidently.
Spock contemplated Sevat's arguments, and then said, "I owe it to Nyota to inform her of this tragedy. She will want to know."
Surprised by what he deemed to be the illogic of Spock's reaction, the Vulcan agent countered harshly, "Nyota will hate you, if she ever learned of the manner of the child's death."
"You do not know her." Spock answered. "There is a concept alien to our people, but practiced by humans. They call it, forgiveness. As grievous this act may be, Nyota will be merciful."
"Spock, if you would have seen her in the condition I found her. Nyota was out of her mind with grief. Her suffering will never afford room for the forgiveness you speak of. You ask far too much of this human."
"Nyota . . . is not like the others."
"She will hate you." Sevat repeated. "Could you live with that knowledge?"
Spock's immobility and silence gave Sevat his answer.
Sevat walked away, slipping his hand into his pants pocket to seek the touch of a red neck scarf. He unconsciously quickened his steps, thinking of how useful the article would be, once again, as he found himself in bed that evening.
Spock remained a solitary figure on the bench, alone with his agonizing thoughts. After much contemplation, the Vulcan knew what he had to do.
Hear me, Ashayam1 . . .
I am weak . . .
So lost in you . . .
I am . . .
So lost in you . . .
My addiction for you . . .
Cannot be cured . . .
No remedy can be found . . .
To nullify the effects of love's arrow . . .
Which remains embedded so deep in my heart . . .
And . . .
With my emotions laid bare . . .
I confess . . .
I could not endure it . . .
I could not continue this life . . .
Knowing that you . . .
Harbored nothing but hate for me . . .
So, oddly . . .
I find myself in agreement with Sevat . . .
And must keep secret . . .
This bitter fruit . . .
All alone . . .
At 10:23 AM, Uhura filed out of the Great Assembly Hall with the other Cadets. Unlike her peers who stopped to chat before going to class or an assigned duty, the East African walked briskly toward the Hoshi Sato Communications Building.
Suddenly, she heard a familiar male voice beside her. "The time is set for 2:10 PM, this afternoon."
"You'll have to get someone else, Kirk. I've got other things to do." Uhura told the Iowan without slowing her pace.
"Captain Bjarnarsonar assigned you to the team. Take a look for yourself."
Uhura hesitated just enough to check the crew list for the exercise. She rolled her eyes, and then continued walking. "You know you don't have to keep electing to take the Kobayashi Maru. The Academy requires us to look like complete idiots only once. You've already chosen to look like a fool two times more than necessary."
"I'm going to beat it this time, Uhura."
"It's unbeatable, Kirk. Why can't you understand that? You don't need to drag me there to witness it. In fact, I thought you didn't want anything to do with me."
Kirk got in front of her and kept pace walking backwards. "I just want to see your face when I prove you and all the naysayers wrong."
"I'm not a naysayer." She replied. "I'm simply realistic."
"Is that what you call . . . " Kirk fell backwards against the concrete steps of the Communications Building. "You could have warned me!" He called to her as she continued toward her destination.
Uhura turned her head back to answer the Cadet still sprawled on the steps, "You're right, Kirk, I could have warned you."
As the East African took the elevator to the floor housing her advisor's office, Uhura's thoughts wandered back to Kirk. While they were not nearly as close as they had been before she ended their romantic relationship, they were at least talking again . . . arguing and poking fun at each other like brothers and sisters. Despite childish pranks and behavior, Uhura had seen evidence of leadership qualities in Kirk that few of her peers could match. She never thought she could tell Kirk this without swelling his head, but Uhura thought one day he too would be honored as she had seen done for the crew of the Enterprise earlier that morning.
Uhura found her advisor, Dr. Greeley, in her office seemingly oblivious to everything but her work on the computer.
"Dr. Greeley." Uhura called to her. "Dr. Greeley, I'm here for my 10:30 appointment."
"Oh, Ms. Uhura." Greeley finally exclaimed as she looked up over her computer screen. "Please have a seat."
Uhura did as directed. "The ceremony was really inspirational, Dr. Greeley. It's too bad you had to miss it."
"Not being a member of Starfleet, sometimes I feel out of place at those types of functions." Greeley remarked as she pulled on an oversized sweater that made her look twice the size she actually was. "But, we should now turn our attention to your academic schedule for your final year at the Academy."
Uhura smiled at the prospect of graduating and beginning her career as a Starfleet Officer.
Greeley continued. "I need to tell you when you return from your summer military exercises, you will find some changes in the Xenolinguistics Department."
"What kind of changes, Dr. Greeley?" Uhura asked.
"In light of the Enterprise Incident, Starfleet has surveyed active Communications Officers and have found most are ill-suited to recognize, speak or translate two critical languages important to Federation security – Romulan and Klingon. To that end, the Academy Commandant has seen fit to engage Prof. Sevat as an instructor and consultant for our department."
"Prof. Sevat? But I thought he planned to return to Vulcan after his appointment ended at Berkeley this semester."
"Apparently, Prof. Sevat was made an offer he could not refuse." Dr. Greeley commented drily. "And, he has also made a request that you serve as his Course Assistant. The professor claims you and he have developed a rapport over the semester, which he believes would carryover into this new arrangement. I, of course, told him I would have to bring the matter to your attention to obtain your consent."
"Dr. Greeley, I am aware Cadets must be placed where they are needed. We do not expect any options in such matters. If Prof. Sevat has indicated he would like me to serve as his assistant, then I have little recourse but to comply."
Uhura could tell by her expression, Dr. Greeley appeared displeased with her response.
"Despite Prof. Sevat's appointment, I still serve as the Department Chair. In that role, I am offering you discretion in making a choice that would best suit your academic plans."
"Prof. Sevat has already been so generous with his time. To be honest, I would almost feel as I would be taking advantage of him, if I were to accept this offer." Uhura replied.
Greeley disposition suddenly appeared to brighten.
Then, Uhura continued, "However, considering Prof. Sevat's expertise, I believe I would be unwise to pass up this opportunity."
Greeley retorted, "I am sorry our Academy staff fails to challenge you any longer."
"Dr. Greeley, I did not mean to offend." Uhura responded. "However, in truth, I have benefited greatly under the tutelage of Prof. Sevat; not only with my language lessons, but also regarding my dissertation research activities."
"Of course, it would serve no purpose to deny Prof. Sevat's obvious influence on your academic growth." The advisor noted. "Yet, I believe it would be to your advantage in the long run if you did not so limit your experiences."
It did not take Uhura much time to recognize the validity in Dr. Greeley's contention. Yet, she was curious whom her advisor had in mind. Of the Academy linguistics staff, none she knew could match Sevat's abilities.
"Who do you suggest, Dr. Greeley?"
"The Academy Administration asked me to look beyond our department to identify those with the expertise to teach a course or two in the languages I have previously mentioned. When given the task, one came quickly to mind. Due to his privileged background that afforded him travel throughout the quadrant, his language proficiencies match or, perhaps, surpass those of Prof. Sevat."
"Who could this be?" Uhura eagerly asked.
"The Vulcan Ambassador Sarek's son, Mr. Spock."
"Mr. Spock." Uhura repeated.
Greeley noted, "You do not sound very enthusiastic about this option, Ms. Uhura."
The East African cast her eyes down to the floor. How could she tell her advisor that ever since the tall Vulcan had visited her in the Graduate Student Office nearly a month ago, she harbored a schoolgirl crush on Mr. Spock. She often replayed the dialogue of that occasion in her mind, especially his line . . .
This woman . . . was very good to me.
Uhura thought her infatuation would dissipate over time. Yet, at the Awards Ceremony earlier that morning, she sat within an audience of 5,0000 and dreamed he might somehow find her in the crowd and look her way. Even when that improbable moment did not occur, she beamed with pride when it came time for the Vulcan to receive his medal.
It was a pride that transcended . . .
The pleasure one derives from the achievements of others . . .
The moment meant much more to her than that . . .
Somehow . . .
This Vulcan she barely knew meant more to her than that . . .
"Yes, Dr. Greeley. I will gladly serve as Mr. Spock's Course Assistant for one of the language courses." No sooner had Uhura made this declaration that she wondered if she had let her admittedly unviable fantasy overrule her better judgment. Uhura had to laugh at herself as she thought, I have as much of a chance becoming romantically involved with Mr. Spock as Kirk has of defeating the Kobayashi Maru test.
Yet, her advisor's reaction to her decision gave the East African greater pause. For the moment, she agreed to the offer, a grin came over the face of Dr. Greely . . .
A grin like that of a Cheshire cat!
Author's Note: The author will begin writing the sequel in two weeks. However, until that time . . .
Your comments would be much appreciated on this story, as well as, to give suggestions on the direction of the next episode.
1 Ashayam is the Vulcan word for Beloved.