ohhh, this didnt go exactly as planned. so sorry. Nyota was used to perfect marks – couldn’t fathom anything but 5’s on her assignments - so when the first research paper of her Starfleet Career came back with a high 4, she was floored. She waited patiently in the queue of cadets waiting after class.
The large Asian girl ahead of her spoke meekly to the commander. “Sir, I…don’t understand why I received a 3 on this assignment.”
The Commander was a tall, imposing man, but the look he gave Nyota’s classmate was mild. “Cadet Jensen, your paper on Communicative Subspace Anomalies in the 89645 Delta Orbit was well-written and perfectly adequate. However, I do not believe in inflating marks. A mark of 3 demonstrates fulfillment of the required elements.” The Commander was speaking loud enough for the queue of cadets to hear, and Nyota’s ears burned knowing that this speech was intended for all of them. “A 3 is average for this class. A mark higher than that requires…the exceptional.”
His eyes settled on her. “May I help you, Cadet?” He looked at her impassively – like a Vulcan. There was no emotion.
“No, Commander.”
Nyota took her 4 and resolved to never, ever ask him a question unless it was absolutely necessary.
She had a short solo in the winter concert – short, but a solo all the same. It was an honor rarely extended to First Year Cadets. Hijo Innocente was a very beautiful winter hymn, old fashioned, nostalgic, and beloved by much of Earth’s citizens. Nyota felt her voice swell into the ceiling of the campus auditorium, and as she held that final, impossibly long note, she smiled to see tears winking on a few cheeks in the audience.
The Commander, though, was near the front row, formal as ever in his black uniform. He was looking straight ahead, with that same cool expression. Completely untouched.
Nyota couldn’t help wishing that he hadn’t heard her sing.
It’s not entirely a surprise when she is selected for roster duty. She had put in for it at the beginning of her Third Year, and she fully expected to be helping in one of the lower level communications classes, preferably alongside her mentor, a grandmotherly Admiral who had taken a personal interest in Nyota.
But she could not have been more surprised when the communiqué came through on her data pad, cordially offering her roster duty for Commander Spock and one of his cosmology calculations class. Nyota had never excelled in the astrosciences, and she felt numb, terrified at the thought of trying to lead her fellow students in the subject.
She said as much when she met with the Commander in his office.
“I am confused by your reticence, Cadet. Are you concerned about your time management?”
“No. I just – I’m not that good at it. Cosmology.” Nyota lowered her head. She hated admitting deficiencies.
He dismissed her fear as if it were nothing. “Your marks in my astrophysics class were more than adequate. I would not have approved your assignment as the duty for this section if I did not think you were capable.”
Nyota kept looking at her fingers.
He paused for a moment. “However, if you feel yourself incapable I can request a transfer –“
“No.” Nyota interrupted the Commander most rudely. “No, I’ll do it.”
He nodded at her, like it didn’t matter either way if she did or did not.
Her mother died. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it hurt all the same. Gaila held her while she cried that night in her bed. A transport back home was organized, just for her. Her mentor sent her flowers and arranged for her mother’s name to be announced during chapel. The duty roster from another class offered to cover her responsibilities under Commander Spock.
“Please, take your time at home, Uhura,” said the duty. “I’ll cover for you here as long as you need.”
For all of Starfleet’s austere attitudes, Nyota could not have been held more gently by the institution as a whole. It made it easier to leave the loving embrace of her family, and return back to school.
The Commander greeted her upon her return as if she’d never left. In some ways, it was oddly comforting.
pt 1
Nyota was used to perfect marks – couldn’t fathom anything but 5’s on her assignments - so when the first research paper of her Starfleet Career came back with a high 4, she was floored. She waited patiently in the queue of cadets waiting after class.
The large Asian girl ahead of her spoke meekly to the commander. “Sir, I…don’t understand why I received a 3 on this assignment.”
The Commander was a tall, imposing man, but the look he gave Nyota’s classmate was mild. “Cadet Jensen, your paper on Communicative Subspace Anomalies in the 89645 Delta Orbit was well-written and perfectly adequate. However, I do not believe in inflating marks. A mark of 3 demonstrates fulfillment of the required elements.” The Commander was speaking loud enough for the queue of cadets to hear, and Nyota’s ears burned knowing that this speech was intended for all of them. “A 3 is average for this class. A mark higher than that requires…the exceptional.”
His eyes settled on her. “May I help you, Cadet?” He looked at her impassively – like a Vulcan. There was no emotion.
“No, Commander.”
Nyota took her 4 and resolved to never, ever ask him a question unless it was absolutely necessary.
She had a short solo in the winter concert – short, but a solo all the same. It was an honor rarely extended to First Year Cadets. Hijo Innocente was a very beautiful winter hymn, old fashioned, nostalgic, and beloved by much of Earth’s citizens. Nyota felt her voice swell into the ceiling of the campus auditorium, and as she held that final, impossibly long note, she smiled to see tears winking on a few cheeks in the audience.
The Commander, though, was near the front row, formal as ever in his black uniform. He was looking straight ahead, with that same cool expression. Completely untouched.
Nyota couldn’t help wishing that he hadn’t heard her sing.
It’s not entirely a surprise when she is selected for roster duty. She had put in for it at the beginning of her Third Year, and she fully expected to be helping in one of the lower level communications classes, preferably alongside her mentor, a grandmotherly Admiral who had taken a personal interest in Nyota.
But she could not have been more surprised when the communiqué came through on her data pad, cordially offering her roster duty for Commander Spock and one of his cosmology calculations class. Nyota had never excelled in the astrosciences, and she felt numb, terrified at the thought of trying to lead her fellow students in the subject.
She said as much when she met with the Commander in his office.
“I am confused by your reticence, Cadet. Are you concerned about your time management?”
“No. I just – I’m not that good at it. Cosmology.” Nyota lowered her head. She hated admitting deficiencies.
He dismissed her fear as if it were nothing. “Your marks in my astrophysics class were more than adequate. I would not have approved your assignment as the duty for this section if I did not think you were capable.”
Nyota kept looking at her fingers.
He paused for a moment. “However, if you feel yourself incapable I can request a transfer –“
“No.” Nyota interrupted the Commander most rudely. “No, I’ll do it.”
He nodded at her, like it didn’t matter either way if she did or did not.
Her mother died. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but it hurt all the same. Gaila held her while she cried that night in her bed. A transport back home was organized, just for her. Her mentor sent her flowers and arranged for her mother’s name to be announced during chapel. The duty roster from another class offered to cover her responsibilities under Commander Spock.
“Please, take your time at home, Uhura,” said the duty. “I’ll cover for you here as long as you need.”
For all of Starfleet’s austere attitudes, Nyota could not have been held more gently by the institution as a whole. It made it easier to leave the loving embrace of her family, and return back to school.
The Commander greeted her upon her return as if she’d never left. In some ways, it was oddly comforting.