It had been exactly five years, three weeks, ten days, and two hours since Nyota Uhura went to a guest lecture given by Number One about the push to manufacture a class of phasers that could be used as modular weapons. It had been a Thursday night during a flash thunderstorm and therefore sparsely attended beyond a few weapons enthusiasts and curious cadets like herself, who made a point of going to as many of these lectures as possible. It never hurt, after all, to curry favor with those who might hold your career in their hands at some point.
And besides—Number One was fucking boss. Everyone knew about her, or at least everyone should have known about her. She somehow managed to convince Starfleet that she should be simultaneously tracked into the sciences and command, and went on to rack up a number of successful diplomatic missions as well as military engagements early on in her career. Her meteoric rise in the ranks only meant that the gossip was especially intense when her Captain was sent back to Earth for a teaching stint and she was passed over for the promotion. Uhura had devoured every rumor she could find on the messageboards regarding Number One's fate, from pregnancy to political intrigue to the one where she was a secret Vulcan operative who'd murdered a crewmember during a bout of a mysterious disease that the poster believed to be named "pondfall".
Uhura clung to Number One's every word that night. Her eyes locked onto those long fingers of hers as she took apart the prototypes she'd brought with her and reassembled him with frightening speed. Once she'd concluded her talk with an invitation for people to come up front and view the weapons up close, Uhura had been up and out of her seat so fast that Number One had tensed a little, only to let her expression relax back into one of careful bemusement.
"Eager, aren't we cadet?" she said, her voice betraying nothing of her thoughts.
"I'm Cadet Uhura, Commander One. Excuse me," she said, surprised to find herself at a loss for words in front of her hero. Which was embarrassing, because Uhura didn't stumble over anything, especially not her words. "I just wanted to thank you. I've been looking forward to your talk; I really admire your work and I couldn't believe you were actually on Earth for once."
"I'm sure Starfleet will put your enthusiasm to good use," Number One said dryly, and Uhura couldn't tell whether or not she was being sarcastic.
After that too-brief exchange, Uhura was gently but firmly pushed aside by a boot-licking toad of a Lt. Commander eager to put in some face time, who sucked up every minute Uhura had remaining until she needed to leave for one of her evening classes. She'd stalked across campus in the driving rain, irritated enough that she hardly noticed the icy droplets as they ran beneath the hood of her poncho and trickled down her neck.
Number One/Uhura (AOS), 'Professional' 1/2
And besides—Number One was fucking boss. Everyone knew about her, or at least everyone should have known about her. She somehow managed to convince Starfleet that she should be simultaneously tracked into the sciences and command, and went on to rack up a number of successful diplomatic missions as well as military engagements early on in her career. Her meteoric rise in the ranks only meant that the gossip was especially intense when her Captain was sent back to Earth for a teaching stint and she was passed over for the promotion. Uhura had devoured every rumor she could find on the messageboards regarding Number One's fate, from pregnancy to political intrigue to the one where she was a secret Vulcan operative who'd murdered a crewmember during a bout of a mysterious disease that the poster believed to be named "pondfall".
Uhura clung to Number One's every word that night. Her eyes locked onto those long fingers of hers as she took apart the prototypes she'd brought with her and reassembled him with frightening speed. Once she'd concluded her talk with an invitation for people to come up front and view the weapons up close, Uhura had been up and out of her seat so fast that Number One had tensed a little, only to let her expression relax back into one of careful bemusement.
"Eager, aren't we cadet?" she said, her voice betraying nothing of her thoughts.
"I'm Cadet Uhura, Commander One. Excuse me," she said, surprised to find herself at a loss for words in front of her hero. Which was embarrassing, because Uhura didn't stumble over anything, especially not her words. "I just wanted to thank you. I've been looking forward to your talk; I really admire your work and I couldn't believe you were actually on Earth for once."
"I'm sure Starfleet will put your enthusiasm to good use," Number One said dryly, and Uhura couldn't tell whether or not she was being sarcastic.
After that too-brief exchange, Uhura was gently but firmly pushed aside by a boot-licking toad of a Lt. Commander eager to put in some face time, who sucked up every minute Uhura had remaining until she needed to leave for one of her evening classes. She'd stalked across campus in the driving rain, irritated enough that she hardly noticed the icy droplets as they ran beneath the hood of her poncho and trickled down her neck.