The dancing figures held Uhura's attention long enough for her to
decide she wouldn't mind one more dance herself before returning to the ship. She also
noticed one man in particular who was looking her way. Seeing her watching him
in return, he began to walk over.
"Do you mind?" he asked, indicating the other
chair opposite her. She shook her head and he sat down. "My name is Dugan
Braeden. And yours?"
"Nyota Uhura."
"Pleased to meet you, Nyota." He placed a kiss on
her hand.
"Impressive," she teased, pleased with what she
saw. He was a handsome man with dark looks and an air she immediately
liked.
"I hope so. I'm doing my best."
"Is this why you're here? To impress the women in
town?"
He grinned brightly at her. "Actually, I wanted to
ask you to dance. I'm celebrating tonight, and I can't seem to sit still for
too long."
She returned the smile, and stood up to join him
on the dance floor. "What are you celebrating?"
"What everyone else is celebrating," he replied,
slipping her arm through his. "Possibly the same thing you are."
"I don't know if I'm celebrating anything. I'm
enjoying being off the ship for a while. As nice as it is, I like..."
He swung her around abruptly. "You're from the
starship?"
"Well, yes, but what does that...?"
He let her go, suddenly acting as if it was
distasteful to be near her. "I had no idea you were one of them."
Uhura was quickly becoming angry as well as
puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
His tone turned ugly. "I'll tell you exactly what
I mean. We," gesturing to the crowd that gave them their complete attention,
"don't want your kind here. So I suggest you get out. Now."
"Just who do you think...?" Common sense was a
better idea, Uhura decided, as he took one step forward warningly, and the
crowd didn't give behind her.
How did I get into this? she thought
wearily, shifting into a defensive position. My mother told me not to pick
up men in bars.
Braeden moved one step more, his hand raised
threateningly behind his head, when a stunned look crossed his face and he fell
at Uhura's feet. She looked up from his body to see Saavik standing behind
him.
A nerve pinch, however, would not help them
against an entire crowd. She whirled around, thinking it was silly trying to
hold them off without a phaser, when Saavik pulled one out and moved up beside
her.
"We want no trouble," the Vulcan addressed the
people, who were trying to decide what to do. "However, if you continue with
any more hostile actions, we will be forced to defend ourselves."
Slowly, the pair moved towards the door. Two men
got up from behind to stop them. Uhura dropped one with a knee to the abdomen
and a chop to the neck; Saavik caught the kick aimed for the backs of her own
legs, and quickly found the correct pressure points, pinching them to numb the
leg. But a few in the crowd took advantage of the distraction and started after
them. Saavik fired at their feet all across the dance floor sending them
scurrying for cover.
More moved up from the sides. Uhura started to
yell to keep firing when the other woman threw her the weapon, choosing to
fight hand-to-hand instead. Uhura kept the trigger pressed down, deliberately
hitting no one, but succeeding in causing a general panic, allowing them time
to continue their way out.
One man swung at Saavik with a bottle. Catching
and numbing his wrist, she also hurriedly used him as a shield to block one
woman clawing with her nails. Uhura watched amused as people began to fly
around the room while she guarded their backs with the phaser. The tavern's
customers began to give them a wider berth and she saw, finally, a chance to
escape. It almost seemed a shame to since Saavik looked like she was enjoying
herself; but that thought, of course, was ridiculous.
She grabbed at the Vulcan. "Run!" And giving her a
good example, she headed out into the street.
Saavik stopped her from going further, and led the
way into the alley next to the tavern. Pointing to a ladder on the side of the
building, she motioned for Uhura to go first. Chuckling, she did so.
Upon reaching the roof, Saavik leaned confidently
over the front wall to see people fan out into the street in search of them.
Uhura, standing next to her, laughed again. "Not very good, are they?"
"No, they're not."
Making herself comfortable, Uhura went on. "Any
idea on what that was all about?"
"The local government was concerned about piracy
of their shipping lanes. They arranged a contract with the Federation for safe
transportation of their goods. Many in the business sector argued it was a
violation of private enterprise, while in reality they were regretting the
profits they would lose. They are trying to have the public aroused against it,
and we were the first ship to come into port."
Shouts came from below. "Did you find them?"
"No, no sign of 'em."
"They must've gone back to their ship."
"Don't be an idiot! That Romulan couldn't be from
the starship!"
"That was no Romulan."
"Of course it was! No Vulcan dresses like
that."
Uhura thought she saw Saavik shift restlessly.
It must be hard to be the 'it' of the conversation, she thought,
noticing her companion's garb for the first time. The black top, sleeveless,
hugged the curves in the long, lean torso. Bands of matching black cloth
covered her upper arms and her forearms, still leaving her shoulders and elbows
free. The fawn colored, wrap-around skirt also allowed her legs freedom of
movement, and matched the color of the soft, cloth shoes. True, the outfit was
not Vulcan, but it wasn't necessarily Romulan either. Unless, of course, you
look like Saavik, she reminded herself. Or did someone see her family
brand and knows what it means? Uhura had asked Spock about the identifying
mark after seeing it on Saavik's upper left shoulder during a gym workout. But
the blouse covered it even as the hybrid now crossed her arms.
"I think those business men got what they wanted."
Saavik didn't answer. "I haven't thanked you yet for jumping in down
there."
"It's not necessary."
"Yes, it is." She paused. "You're very good at
hand-to-hand fighting. You're obviously a better student of Sulu's than I
was."
The Vulcan finally seemed to pay attention. "You
needn't try to protect me. I've heard worse comments than what they are saying
below. It's curious they so quickly assume I'm Romulan. This planet is far from
the Neutral Zone."
"They've probably never seen a Romulan in their
lives," Uhura agreed. "It's probably a story they tell to frighten children.
'Be careful or the Romulans will get you!'" She suddenly realized her present
hybrid company. "I didn't mean that personally."
"I am aware you didn't." Saavik looked again into the
street. The mob was darting in and out of the tavern, trying to organize
themselves and rapidly failing. "The local authorities should have warned
Enterprise before personnel beamed down. If I hadn't come across you
here, or if our pursuers were more competent, the situation would be far more serious."
"Then you weren't looking for me?"
"Not entirely. I told the Enterprise I saw
you here in case of trouble, but I had arrived not knowing you would."
"Then why are you here?"
Silence. Uhura realized it was only Saavik's sense
of honesty that had brought her this far. "I'm sorry. I'm pushing."
They were quiet for a bit, then the soft voice
spoke again. "I wanted to see the stars."
"Excuse me?"
A little louder this time. "I only wanted to see
the stars. Being amongst them is a fascinating experience, but I wished to see
them clearly, not through a viewscreen or a small portal. This area is not very
industrialized, and the buildings are not tall. In fact, this is the tallest.
On the roof, there is no lighting to take away from the sky."
A Starfleet officer who left her starship to gaze
at the night sky wasn't that big of a deal. In fact, it could be considered
romantic, fanciful, and other concepts embarrassing to a Vulcan or to someone
with a strong sense of privacy, the strongest Uhura had ever seen. That
explains the clothes. If someone saw her, she'd look like any of the other
Independent traders in port. She hadn't counted on getting into a bar fight and
people getting a close-up of her features. When the refit is done for the
observation lounge, she won't need to come planetside. Or will she? How much
does it bother her to have someone see her stargazing? This time it was
Uhura who was quiet before speaking. "I appreciate you confiding in me. I'd
like to think that with all we've been through, we can be friends."
A quick nod was all the answer she needed.
"You know, there's no reason for us to stay here.
I don't have my communicator -- I was going back with the regular party -- but
I assume you have yours."
"I do." Another restless movement, this time a
little sheepishly, then Saavik pulled her communicator from the small of her
back. How she hid it, and originally the phaser, Uhura didn't know. The slim
straight lines of the skirt and top didn't look like they could hide anything.
"It was damaged in the skirmish."
Uhura stifled a quick laugh, knowing it wouldn't
be taken right. She took the broken equipment and examined it expertly. "We
could repair this easily with the right tools." She surreptitiously eyed
Saavik's waist. "I don't suppose you have--" The other woman handed her a
multifaceted tool. "Perfect. Thanks."
"If we cannot repair it, it will not matter.
Captain Spock is meeting me here."
"Here?"
"Yes. As this is the tallest building, I came here
to get above the streetlights. I heard your voice below and came to
investigate."
God bless Vulcan hearing! Uhura
thought.
"Spock is transporting down after he completes a
project for the captain. He will have a communicator."
Of course Spock's allowed in that sense of
privacy. And he was coming down for some stargazing with you? The image
made her smile. "Then we don't have to worry."
"Agreed, Commander."
"My name's Nyota."
Saavik watched her, judging what her reaction
would be. "I call a person by name only with their permission. It's the only
Romulan custom of which I approve."
"Could you explain?"
"Romulans believe the soul is reflected in a
person's names. You don't use them freely; you must have permission since
knowing the soul means knowing all the person's strengths and vulnerabilities.
Even Vulcans will not casually tell a name's meaning. Only good friends,
family, and bondmates know them."
"So I shouldn't be using yours?"
"That is your custom. It doesn't offend me."
"How would someone go about all this?"
"They would say the name and its meaning. It is
where the soul is contained."
"In that case, Lieutenant." She locked gazes. "My
name is Nyota Penda Uhura. It means 'she who loves star freedom.' Not bad, is
it? I'm proud of it." She smiled. "And you shouldn't feel beholden."
Again the quick nod.
The street cleared. Saavik frowned, but Uhura,
bending over the communicator, didn't see it. "The crowd concerns me. We still
have personnel on the surface who may not know of the trouble."
"We'll contact them as soon as I have this done."
For a few seconds, she worked on the communicator; then Saavik broke the
silence.
"Would you like to follow them?"
Surprised, Uhura looked up. The starlit sky framed
Saavik's outline, silhouetting her, but some light spilled up from below. Uhura
thought she saw a spark of -- mischief? -- in the Vulcan's eye. She knew her
own answering smile was filled with it. "They might see us."
"They won't." Saavik drew further away, to the
corner of the rooftop, once more resuming her watch over the crowd below. The
black shirt and armbands melted into the night; the dark hair fell forward over
her face; the fawn skirt, mottled with broken light, blended into the
building's pale shadows.
Uhura shook her head. Where did she learn to do
that? "You're the only one dressed for it." Saavik turned her gaze from the
street, seeing the bright amber and oranges that contrasted so beautifully with
the Commander's dark skin. "Although, it'd certainly help if we could find out
something." That spark, the almost smile playing on Saavik's mouth -- she was
probably imagining it -- recalled childhood memories of nights filled with
laughter and games. "You're going to make me be the responsible one, aren't
you?"
"You are the Commander."
Uhura sighed to herself. What good are Vulcans
if they're aren't going to be the sensible ones? And when did I
become the killjoy? Pavel and Hikaru will never let me live this down. She
had to grin again. "I bet you got in a lot of trouble as a kid, didnt
you?"
Immediately, Saavik stiffened, became defensive,
something no Vulcan should do. The fact that she did told Uhura she had said
the wrong thing. "Why do you say that?"
So were not going to share childhood
memories. Why? "No reason. It was a joke."
The Vulcan relaxed slightly. "Yes, of course.
Humor." Uhura wished she knew what it was she had said; shed take it
back. Saavik gazed below and the moment stretched. Uhura went back to
communicator repairs, not knowing what else to do.
"So. Do we follow them?"
Uhura beamed, delighted and relieved. "You go. I'd
only give you away. See if you can find out anything, but make it fast. I'm
giving you ten minutes; I should be done the repairs by then. If I see
something happening here, I'll shout."
The Vulcan/Romulan, all duty now, started to leave
then stopped, unknowingly hiding herself in the darkness. "Nyota?"
"Yes?"
"Saavik means, as close as I can translate it,
twilight. It's given to a person who holds themselves away from others, or who
stands partly on the outside looking in."
Part of the night, part of the day, but not
really either of them. "May I ask? Is it Vulcan?"
"It was. Its roots are in PreReform Vulcan, but
the Romulans altered it to its present form."
Uhura slowly smiled. "I'll watch out for you,
Saavik." And then she was alone. The smile stayed as she tinkered with the last
repairs, keeping an eye on the street. It had been an eventful night, but
definitely a worthwhile one.
They beamed up shortly afterwards and went to give
their report. Spock wondered why Commander Uhura winked at him conspiratorially
as she passed.