Four: A Meeting of the Minds
First Officer’s Personal Log:
Miss Uhura turns to look at me and for another fleeting moment, lasting two point one seconds, that pure smile emerges on her face. I decide instantly that it is a look I prefer and want to see more often. Then it vanishes, replaced by the expression she normally wears.
“I hope you find your redecorated quarters to your liking.” I could sense that she did. She enters the room and looks around. It has been decorated in rich, earthen colors: brown, tan and cream, with hints of gold. The ship’s housekeeping did an admirable job with the small amount of information I provided.
“I do,” she says. Her voice is lower than normal. “Thank you. This I can handle. The pastel palace was killing me.”
I remain at the door, my hands behind my back. “You have ninety minutes and forty-five seconds before beta shift begins. You must report, Lieutenant.”
There is a long pause. It lasts one minute and forty three seconds.
“All right,” she says. Her voice is even lower than before.
“You understand this, correct?”
“I do,” she says.
“I wish for us to come to a mutual understanding, Lt. Uhura. I would ask that you work with me on this.”
She turns and I take in the whole of her, rapidly moving my eyes over her body before staring into hers. “Why?” she asks.
“Because you are a visitor here, a stranger and you are here not by any design of your own. While I am in agreement with the captain that we allow you some liberties to get acclimated to our way of life, you must also yield in such a way that we can get acclimated with you.”
She remains silent. One hand moves toward her navel and she begins to finger it subconsciously. I cannot help but look. I find this woman immensely appealing in spite of my sedate nature.
“Do you agree to these terms, Lieutenant? Or are you going to spend copious amounts of time in the brig?”
I see the flash of fear in her eyes upon mention of the brig. She is clearly claustrophobic.
“I will try, Mr. Spock. You do not know the world from which I hail. I am naturally suspicious of everyone and I have a right to be. Speaking of which, where is my knife?”
I raise my eyebrow. “I have kept it.”
“Can I have it back?”
“You do not need it.”
“Yes I do, Mr. Spock.”
“It is not necessary. I am impressed that you were able to procure one so quickly.”
“I feel naked without my blade,” she says. One hand makes a loose fist between her breasts. Again, I cannot help but look.
“Miss Uhura, I will not return your knife. You have seriously injured two security guards. It is against regulation for you to carry a weapon like that on board this ship.”
There is a flash of anger in her eyes and she puts one hand on her hip and shifts her weight. “You just asked me for mutual understanding. You asked me to work with you and yet you have taken away a vital part of me, Mr. Spock. I dare say that you are not truly seeking harmony. I need my knife.”
“No one on this ship will harm you, Lieutenant.”
“Mr. Spock, I don’t know that.”
“Lieutenant, Vulcans do not lie. You have my word on this.”
She turns away. I can sense that she is displeased. I offer her more.
“If you are concerned for your safety, Miss Uhura, I am more than happy to escort you around the Enterprise when I am not required elsewhere.”
Miss Uhura turns back to me and there is a different look in her eyes. “You want to be my bodyguard, Mr. Spock?” Her tone is seductive, sultry. I cock my head to one side and stare at her.
“I merely wish to protect the crew from your violent outbursts and considerable skill with an edged weapon.”
She smiles again and puts her hand on her hip once more. “Sure. Call it whatever you want, but you can guard my body anytime.”
There is a moment when I cannot speak, for I am floored with a mental image that is totally inappropriate to my position and discipline. Yet I cannot stop myself from seeing it. I close my eyes to banish the image from my mind. This is definitely a reaction that supports my hypothesis.
She stares at me and I stare at her. I know that she is not a telepath, so she cannot sense what I am experiencing. I am embarrassed that I am responding in this manner, but I cannot help myself.
“Cat got your tongue, Mr. Spock?”
“Fascinating phrase, Miss Uhura. There is no cat in your quarters.”
She smiles at me again. “You said you wanted to talk to me. According to you, we have some time before my shift starts.”
“You are quite pleasant when you are not being vulgar, Miss Uhura.”
“Don’t push it, Mr. Spock.” She goes to her new chair and sits down. I make my way farther into her quarters and I sit on the edge of her bed. She looks at me and I cannot decipher what I see on her face. “What do you want to know?”
“I wish for you to share with me your experiences within your universe.”
“You told me that I had to report to duty in about an hour or so. There’s not enough time for that. You’ll do better to ask me questions.”
“All right. How did you become so skilled with a knife?”
“In my world, Mr. Spock, most of the men are predators. They take what they want, and that includes women and vulnerable men. To keep from being prey women align themselves with these men. It is somewhat effective, as the women who are left alone are typically those who belong to a junior or senior officer. I refuse to belong to anyone, and as you are well aware, I’m completely gorgeous. Men want me.”
“Immodesty does not become you, Lieutenant.”
“Honesty does, Mr. Spock. You know full well that I’m hot.” She smiles at me and crosses her legs. “Anyway, I had to learn how to defend myself if I was going to remain unattached. I have had to injure quite a few individuals. However, do not think for one moment that knife work is all that I’m proficient in.”
“I do not underestimate you, Miss Uhura.” I have learned that lesson.
“Good. Don’t. What else do you want to know?”
“What were your duties on board your starship?”
“I’m the chief communicator and xenolinguist. I run the communications lab. Surely you know that, Commander. I do shifts on the bridge and in the long-range sensor labs. And whatever else is required.”
“I would like for you to elucidate that, Miss Uhura.”
“Sometimes the captain gives me additional assignments, which I accept when there is a direct benefit to me. It can be anything that I require at the time; we negotiate. I can man the helm and the engine console.”
I stare at her. She is smiling at me in a most beguiling manner. I have decided that her smile is unique and stimulating. I want more of it; I am quickly discovering that I want her more of her. “When did you learn how to man the helm and engine console, Lieutenant? Your communications skills do not cover those specific responsibilities.” That she had learned how to man the engine console in addition to the helm impressed me. Both of those assignments required a significantly high level of skill. To master the communications lab was considerable; adding to that awesome responsibility by learning to fly the starship and monitor its engines was remarkable indeed. I did not perceive such resourcefulness in the old Lt. Uhura. While she could monitor the helm, she never showed any interest in its advanced use or in learning how to man the engineering console. This woman is very resourceful.
“I’m not dumb, sir. You’d be surprised how far a smile, a stroke, and a few questions can take a woman like me. Those on board my starship were quite agreeable to my requests.”
“I do not underestimate your abilities, Lieutenant. However, regardless as to what you know, you will not be allowed to man the helm or the engines unless the captain requests it.”
“You say that as if I’m going to volunteer, Mr. Spock. Let me repeat, if there is no direct benefit to me, then I won’t do it. I’m sorry, but that is how I operate. That is how I survive in my world. Tit for tat.”
“This is not your world, Lieutenant. You shall come to see that soon enough and I would advise you to let your guard down.”
She does not respond to that, but takes another glance in the mirror. She is a most vain creature, but she is also very, very desirable. I feel as if we are making progress, yet we are at an impasse.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go to work.”
I didn’t have the best day today. I admit, I never thought that Spock would follow through on his threat to put me in the brig. All I knew was that he got mad and put me in that fucking hole and left me there all morning. Whatever happened next, I was going to do whatever I had to do to keep out of that place. By the time he came to get me, I was willing to agree to anything he wanted. I was hungry and I had to relieve myself and my boobs were numb from lying on the floor. He let me go to the bathroom and then took me to the mess to get some food. I was so thankful that I was agreeable to anything he said. I hate enclosed spaces.
When he escorted me back to my room, I was stunned to find that he’d had my suite redecorated in actual grown woman colors. Earth tones; it reminded me of my mother’s sitting room back home. It looked warm and inviting and much more appropriate for a fabulous babe of my stature. I was very, very pleased.
He told me that he wanted to talk to me. That threw me. Where I’m from, men do not want to talk to women. They want to fuck us. The only talking that took place was whatever occurred within quarters; because it was for damn sure not happening anywhere else. But this man, this Spock, actually wanted to talk to me. It made me a bit nervous and a little uncomfortable because I still didn’t trust him. He spoke of wanting peace, of finding a balance between us. I know Vulcans don’t lie, but…I really don’t know how to take a man who imprisoned me but went out of his way to give me something I wanted.
I have never denied my attraction to him; I was attracted to the Spock in my world, but that stuck-up bastard never gave me the time of day. I know he had to be gay. He had to be, for no man in his right mind could possibly turn down all this. But this Spock, this handsome, beardless Vulcan...
For a moment, I was out of my depth; in unfamiliar territory. He was looking at me in the way men normally look at me, but there was something different about his gaze. I wanted to go to him, but I got myself together. I wanted this man. Was it possible that he could see me as more than a project? A responsibility? Could he want me just as I was, or did he want a finished product? Did he want me once I’d assimilated into the culture of this Enterprise? I hoped not.
He won’t give me back my knife. That I don’t like. My knives are part of my uniform; part of all our uniforms where I’m from. Not having it makes me feel naked. I tried to explain to him the necessity of packing a blade, but he was unmoved. He claimed that he didn’t want his crew to get injured in another fight with me, but he didn’t understand how much I needed my knife. It was hard, sharp security in an insecure world; as much a part of me as my hair or nails. On which, I noticed, the polish was starting to wear.
Then he offered to be my bodyguard. That I wasn’t expecting. He won’t give me my knife, but he was willing to escort me around the ship to ensure my safety. And I’m sure for me to see for myself that I was safe and wouldn’t engage any member in a violent manner.
I don’t know about that, but I liked the idea of him guarding me. I really liked that. As I stared at him, I realized that it has been a few days since I’d had sex. I had a string of lovers in my world…three young, hard bodies who I taught to appreciate the blessing of my magnificent pussy. They also knew how to shut the hell up, fuck me, and then leave when I was done. It was a nice deal, and I had three lovely flavors rotating on a regular basis.
It occurred to me that I did not have such an arrangement here as I stared at Spock and as he stared at me. Shit, I needed some sex. I’m a healthy, flesh and blood woman and I needed to have sex. Really, I needed to be fucked. I’m not a vanilla girl…I like my sex creative, hard, sweaty and nasty. My trio of hot young babes was well aware of that and knew to bring the pain whenever they paid me a visit. I don’t let anything get in the way of my orgasm. Fuck that shit.
I needed to stop thinking about sex and I needed to stop now. I don’t know what Spock was thinking, but he was looking. I’m sure that he was thinking something similar because there was a new tension between us, one that I recognize.
Was it possible? From my end, absolutely. But what about from his? I shifted my weight and smiled at him.
He started asking me questions and I answered them. I told him about my other bridge skills and I think that might have gotten his attention. I’d used my wiles to learn the helm and the engine console just because it was something I knew I could use to get what I wanted. That whole mess with Sulu and Chekov began when I asked them to show me how the helm worked. After that, they thought they could ass-grab in recompense.
But then, because I agreed to it, I got ready to report to my shift. I went to the mirror and frowned; I really needed a full-length view of myself. This vanity mirror was woefully inefficient. I grabbed my comb and began to fix my hair, but continued talking to Spock.
“The universe from which I hail, Mr. Spock, is a place of murder and hedonism. The captain seeks profit and pleasure within and without the confines of what the Empire wants. He’s a greedy, selfish whore of a despot.”
“Not to experience, I assure you.” I checked my face and frowned again. I needed to reapply my makeup. Quickly, I began doing so. Mr. Spock kept looking at me, all over me. I smiled. He knew what was in front of him. Fabulous, baby, fabulous!
“Mr. Spock, might I ask another favor?”
“What is it, Miss Uhura?”
“Is it possible that I might get a full-length mirror installed?”
He raised an eyebrow. “For what purpose?”
I patted the caboose. “I have a pressing need to examine my appearance to the smallest detail, Commander. Under normal circumstances, I do not emerge from my suite unless I am confident that I am absolutely flawless.”
He paused for a moment, no doubt taking in the use of his title and the appreciation of my extraordinary backside.
“You are a woman of vanity, Miss Uhura.”
“You’re just now noticing, Mr. Spock?”
He folded his arms. “I shall see if there are any available. If there are, I shall have one installed. You acknowledge that I am trying to accommodate you.”
“I do,” I said. I smiled at him as I applied my lipstick. Then I stepped back and straightened my modified uniform, remembering that I had to figure out a way to get my order authorized so that I could get my new clothes when we arrived at the starbase. Satisfied that I looked as good as possible, I turned to him and began walking towards the door. “Thank you, Mr. Spock. It is entirely necessary, I assure you. I have an image to maintain.”
I stopped in front of him and took his arm, tucking my hand in the crook of his elbow. He stared at me but did not ask me to remove my hand.
“Escort me to duty?”
“Of course,” he said.
As we walked towards the bridge, others walked past us. The women were obviously displeased, but the men were appreciative. I gave them my most seductive smile and some of them a wink. I was going to have to find me a rotation of hard young men to satisfy me. That is, if I couldn’t get this hard man beside me to do it. I instantly recognized that while it would take a minimum of three humans to please me, this one Vulcan would be more than enough.
I did love a challenge.
“Mr. Spock, might I ask a question?”
“I need to get an order from ship’s stores authorized. I was trying to get some items I needed and the catalogue says I need authorization. Would you be willing to do it?”
“Such authorizations can only be granted by the captain.”
“Oh,” I said. I’d have to use my wiles on him, then. “Will he be on the bridge during this shift?”
“Perhaps. You may speak with him about that during your break.”
“I will,” I said. Best believe it. I needed to be battle-ready if I was going to remain on this ship.
We entered the bridge and he walked me to my chair. The captain turned and looked at me, a smile on his face. He was not an ugly guy by any means.
“Lieutenant, I trust you are adjusting to our way of life?”
“I am trying, sir.”
“Good. Mr. Spock, if you’d come here for a moment?”
Spock went over to the captain’s chair. I stared at it; it wasn’t a throne like the one on the ISS-E. Then I sat down and put my earpiece in. I was sure this part of the adaptation would be easy. Then the bridge doors swooshed open again and Sulu came on the bridge. He looked at me and smiled. I immediately went for the knife on my thigh and quickly remembered that I was without it. I could get to my Harpy if I needed to, however.
“Lieutenant Uhura, how are you?” Sulu said to me.
I glared at him, but he was undeterred. “Are you all right? It’s good to see you.”
Then he went to the helm and took his place. Chekov wasn’t on duty. I narrowed my eyes in Sulu’s direction before turning back to my console. I knew that it wasn’t the Sulu I knew, but it was still Sulu, and there was little distinction in my mind. We’d had run-ins before; he felt it was okay to put his hands on me. I know I’m a sex bomb, but that doesn’t give any man the right to put his hands on me unless I invite them to. He did it one too many times and I slashed him across the face. He was a nasty character, about as bad as Rex or Thor or the captain. I never felt safe when I shared duty with him.
How was I supposed to feel safe with him here? I needed my knife and I needed to figure out a way to convince Mr. Spock to give it back. And if he wouldn’t, I’d have to go back to the armory and get another one. I could not be unarmed around Sulu. I just couldn’t.
The shift passed uneventfully. We were due to arrive at the starbase within the next several hours. As I left my console, I got the captain’s attention.
“Captain, might I speak with you for a moment?” I smiled at him, put my hands on my hips and made the twins pop. He looked and he smiled. The twins never failed to achieve the desired results.
“Certainly, Lieutenant. Might I inquire as to what we are speaking about?”
“If you could join me in the lift…?”
“Of course. Mr. Spock, you have the conn.”
“Aye, Captain.” Spock said, taking the command chair.
I went into the turbolift and the captain stood next to me. He was smiling as if he thought I was going to give him a little bit. I was about to get him to authorize my order from the ship’s stores. Before the doors slid shut, I saw Mr. Spock staring at us, and unless I missed my guess, he did not look pleased.