Into the Valley ~ Amanda #Uhura

Previously ~ Hikaru and the Headmistress

Amanda Grayson was a stunningly beautiful woman, and Nyota immediately saw the resemblance. Spock had her dark eyes, so human, so full of feeling. She was a tall, dark-haired woman; she wore a sheer veil and an elaborate, heavy Vulcan necklace of gems Nyota had never seen before. She smelled as though she’d just stepped from out of a Vulcan garden; her perfume was sweet with the flora of her husband’s world.

“Spock!” she greeted, her voice high and cheerful. “Did you get taller?”

The Vulcan merely blinked, unsure of what to say as his mother glided over to delicately embrace him.

“Still a bit too skinny for me,” she said lightly, pulling away. “I thought we agreed you start eating more than just plomeek soup for breakfast. Have you tried pancakes?” She turned from her speechless son to his speechless girlfriend.

“You must be Nyota! Nyota Uhura, right? Such a lovely name! Did you like the teas I sent you?” She came over to hug the shocked girl, talking all the while. “Oh, good—I was right. I used to be your size.” She winked. “I brought a few dresses for you; I hope you like them. I want you to look dazzling when we go see Aehallh Aidoann tonight.”

Nyota blinked, recognizing the Romulan. “‘Nightmare Moon?’”

“‘Ghost Moon,’ in this case,” Amanda chuckled gaily. “It’s a Romulan opera Ambassador Mioral introduced me to—so intense.” She looked at her son. “That’s whom your father is with right now. Last week they traveled to the Bolaris System, to Mioral’s moon. See, the Bolaris System isn’t under Romulan jurisdiction, so they couldn’t permanently freeze his property or accounts on Bolaria IX. I haven’t seen Mioral look this happy in weeks. Has N’Tal been made aware she can finally go back to being a spoiled little princess?” she blinked innocently, even as Nyota’s jaw dropped.

“Wait,” Spock blinked, his heartbeat rising, “Father doesn’t know…I mean, about…?”

“Oh God, no,” Amanda’s hand flew to her throat. “As soon I intercepted that message yesterday, I deleted all record of it. I even asked Dr. T’Laris to come over and make sure our computers were fully purged. Told her it had something to do with a virus,” she winked at them. “If your father knew, he’d want you returned home at once, and I couldn’t bear to take you away from all things…Earthy,” she murmured, reaching out to gently touch Nyota’s face.

Nyota’s face heated; she smiled sheepishly and looked down.

“Mother,” Spock said suddenly, “I almost got expelled. Aren’t you…upset?”

Amanda threw back her head and laughed. She looked at his girlfriend, with a nod towards him, saying “He gets that from his father’s side, you know. All dour and doom and gloom. Fine,” she sighed, “we’ll speak plainly about this now, and then never again.

“No, Spock; I don’t condone what you did. What kind of mother would I be if I did? I don’t like to think that my seventeen-year-old son puts so much stock in physical relations he’s willing to lie to his girlfriend and potentially jeopardize the health of his classmates. In fact, I’m too disturbed to be angry. Quite frankly, I liked you better when you were getting into fights left and right at your old schools. At least then your father and I knew what to do with you; we understood that.” She shrugged and looked at Nyota. “My son has a bit of a temper, and the only reason I find it amusing is that he doesn’t get it from my side of the family.”

Nyota’s head turn and she stared at her blushing, twitching boyfriend as though he were a stranger.

Amanda caught that and laughed again.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you, did he? Did he try to pull the ‘I’m a good, discerning little Vulcan’ routine?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, darling,” she put her arm around Nyota’s shoulder, leading the kids back into the school, “do I have stories to tell you.”


“Dude,” Jim gasped over lunch, later that afternoon, “your mom is hot. What time is she coming back tonight?”

Spock shot him a venomous look, which was hilarious because he was still trying to be very “Vulcan” about it. He stabbed at his place of vegetables, bringing a huge grin to Jim’s face.

Next to Spock, his roommate scowled. “I don’t ever want to hear about sex again.”

“Oh, I could stand to hear a bit more,” Jim chuckled, before taking a giant swing off his Slusho.

“Guys! We’re off the hook! Hikaru—your family simply issued a threat, right? And Spock, your mom’s covering your ass, right? Around 2200 hours tonight, I’m going to get a call from my stepdad. He’ll chew me out for precisely 5.36 minutes, and then I won’t have to deal with him again ‘til the holidays. Lenny’s parents are probably going to do the same. Dudes—it’s done!”

“I hurt Vira,” Hikaru bit out.

“And I hurt Nyota,” Spock nodded.

“And I hurt N’Tal,” Jim snorted, “So the fuck what? She liked it.” He winked at the two, before tearing off another slice of pizza.

Spock recoiled from the thick, salty smell of meat and melted cheese. Does he ever eat anything else?

“How come when we drug our chicks,” Hikaru grumbled, “we get our asses handed to us, but when you drug N’Tal, you two have the kind of sex that’s heard three floors down?”

“Well,” Jim began smugly, “you two are dating a female Trill and a human girl. When you manipulate and deceive them, they tend to frown on that. But when you manipulate and deceive a Romulan chick, she tends to…appreciate the effort you put into bedding her.” Blissful shrug. “What can I say? Deception works for her people; they prize that shit. I rode that filly ‘til her cows came home, catch my drift? And the things she was screamin’—”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “You say Romulans prize deception?”

“Uh-uh,” Jim nodded, reaching again for his Slusho. “Gets ‘em all hot and bothered.”

Spock tilted his head to the side. “Then how do you know N’Tal’s enthusiastic expressions of pleasure were not a deception?”

The brilliant sunshine hanging over Jim’s head immediately turned into a dark cloud. His whole face changed his Slusho froze in midair, en route to his lips.  Even Hikaru’s mood had to lighten up after that.

He happily clapped his roommate on the back, snickering, “Score one for the Vulcan,” while Jim Kirk scowled.

Meanwhile, the corners of the Vulcan’s lips ever so slightly twitched.


On her way to lunch, Nyota met up with Vira and the girls walked together.

“So,” the Trill nudged her roommate. “What’s his mom like?”

“Really nice,” Nyota shrugged. “Gave me clothes. And at 1900 hours tonight she got permission from the headmistress to take us to a Romulan opera at the Grand Holo.” Pause. “Where is that anyway?”

“Downtown Charleston, along the Kanawha River,” Vira nodded gleefully. “It’s a huge holodeck, often used to entertain dignitaries.” She laughed. “She’s a brave woman if she plans introduce Romulan opera to Earth.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Nyota chuckled. “But she is a brave woman, you know? Married a Vulcan, moved to his world…almost had N’Tal for a daughter-in-law.” She laughed heartily, recalling the woman’s jab at the Romulan. “I think they've met, because Amanda doesn’t like her too well.”

“And Spock doesn’t have to go back to Vulcan?”

Nyota laughed again, “His mom intercepted the message and made sure his father didn’t find out.”

The Trill laughed with her. “What a family. I never thought a Vulcan family could be this amusing.”

She shrugged. “Guess that’s what happens when you throw humans in the mix.”

“N’Tal may be leaving though,” Nyota added, “’cause her dad got his moon back. Can you imagine owning your own moon?” She whistled. “It’s called Bolaria IX.”

“Bolaria IX,” Vira echoed. “Sounds beautiful.”

“Supposedly it is,” Nyota said. “According to Spock’s mom, it has twenty-eight New York-sized cities, grayish-silver soil, some pale blue vegetation, and a night which always lasts about twelve Earth hours.”

Vira’s jaw hit the floor. “And N’Tal’s family owns all of that?”

“Well, they own the property—the moon,” Nyota clarified. “But this means every resident, political institution and business on that moon rents from Mioral. He got the idea from one of his Ferengi accountants fifty years ago.”

“So,” Vira blinked, “you’re telling me they’re worth—”

“Billions of credits,” Nyota nodded, almost grimly. “No wonder she used to be such bitch.”

“Even so,” the Trill snorted, “with that kind of money, I’d marry N’Tal.”


Nineteen hundred hours came, and Amanda Grayson reappeared, once again in style. She came with in shuttle flown an aide and two attendants. She wore a long dark gown of violet silk and silver veil. The veiled covered only the bottom half of her face, tying under her elaborately coiffed mass of long dark hair, which in turn was decked in pearls and tiny desert blossoms. And she rich smelled of the Vulcan earth.

Nyota was the first to meet her on the Promenade. She came in one of the dresses Amanda had bought her; it was floor length and of the palest purple. Though long-sleeved, it bared both shoulders. Despite the gauzy material, it was effectively warm against the early winter winds of Appalachia.

Around her neck were necklaces of silver, ivory, and bleached bone, given to her years ago by her mother. Vira had braided her purple and black hair down her back in some exotic Trill style, inserting silver and bone pins to help hold the hairdo together. Likes Amanda’s hair pearls, they glittered prettily in the moonlight.

At the sight of her, Amanda smiled broadly. “Well, now,” she greeted slyly. “I see what drew my son to you.”

Nyota’s face heated and she briefly looked away. “Um, thanks again…for the dress. It fits wonderfully.”

Amanda playfully blew on her nails and rubbed them against her chest. “I’m good, aren’t I?”

Nyota nodded. “I wonder what’s taking Spock so long?”

Amanda snorted, “I brought him some clothes too. Knowing him, he’ll want his robes to look just right.” She raised her head in the direction of the school’s entrance. “See? There he is.”

Nyota turned to Spock emerge. Her breath caught as it hadn’t since the first time she’d seen. She felt her heart stop, her breathing stop, even her mind stop as he strode forward almost majestically in pitch long, demure black robes. All the way down the right side of his body was intricate Vulcan embroidery in gold and pale olive green. Nyota vaguely recognized the symbols; they had something to do with recounting his familial line.

Under the pallid moonlight, Spock looked like a prince.

He smelled richly of incense, which meant he’d probably been meditating earlier. He kept his face impassive as he briskly bowed his head to the ladies.

“You both look…agreeable,” he said briefly.

“Agreeable?” Nyota echoed. She felt a subtle flash of irritation, laced with disbelief. “Agreeable?”

“That’s my son’s way of saying we look fabulous,” Amanda laughed easily. “The trick is to simply ignore what he’s saying and pay closer attention to his eyes. They’re my eyes, and ain’t nothin’ Vulcan about ‘em,” she snickered.

Nyota at once looked into his eyes and he immediately averted them. A secret heat washed through her as she watched his jaw tighten.

Vulcan repression, she raised an eyebrow. Sometimes I forget just how sexy it is.

“My lady,” the aide called from the shuttle, “the opera begins in thirty-three minutes.”

“Come along, children!” Amanda called, whirling like an enchantress and heading for the shuttle.  “‘Ghost Moon’ awaits!”