Into the Valley ~ Hikaru and the Headmistress #Uhura

Previously ~ Confessions Bitter and Sweet Pt 2

One day earlier

“Crystal, Patrick,” Lenny McCoy cocked his head to the side, “there are very specific rules for taking this shit.” He held up a dark bottle of the tincture, shaking it slightly.

“W-We know,” Patrick stammered, eagerness bright in his eyes. “We’ve heard a lot about this stuff.”

Lenny snorted. “I’m sure you have. Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. You didn’t get this from me. In fact, you don’t know where you got this. We didn’t have this conversation.  Understood?”

The couple nodded quickly.

“Good,” Lenny continued. “You each take two drops before bed in a drink of your choice. However, before you take this stuff, you have to drink at least eight glasses of water over the course of the day. Trust me when I say you do not want this shit stuck in your circulatory system.”

Again the quick nods.

“I believe we agreed on three boxes of cigs?”

Crystal reached into her purse, pulled them out and handed them to him. Lenny accepted and gave them the tincture.

“So…,” she asked hesitantly, “if no one’s allowed to talk about it, how do kids know where ask for it?”

….meanwhile, in the mess hall….

Jim Kirk sat surrounded by a table of eager boyfriends, dangling a dark bottle in front of them. Their eyes never left the bottle, their heads even followed its every move.

“Dudes,” he grinned broadly, “I’m tellin’ you. Take two drops of this shit per day, and you and your girlfriends can fuck for days.”

…and back to Lenny’s room….

Lenny blinked calmly, maintaining a neutral tone. “We have a PR man assigned to that particular task.


Headmistress Beulah Coraline Jones didn’t like kids. At least, not having to actually deal with them.

She was good at creating an environment in which they could fulfill their potentials, but other than that, she didn’t liking seeing or speaking to them. Ever. She hadn’t created Stellar Valley and designed half its curricula so she could deal with kids. She had created this place so as to better prepare future Starfleet officers—period.

So when Hikaru Sulu, James Kirk, Leonard McCoy, and Spock filed into her office and sat down on a gray bench across from her broad gray desk, she felt as though the rest of her year was ruined.

A buxom, graying woman with earthy skin in an austere gray woolen gown, Beulah wasn’t the fancy sort. She wore neither perfume nor jewelry, never had her hair outside a chignon, and didn’t decorate her office at all. All of that took the kind of patience she just didn’t have. In her room, all the walls and furniture were slate, dismal gray. The carpet was cream-colored, but that was the softest she would go.

“Mr. Sulu,” she started briskly, her Southern accent ringing clear.

“Headmistress,” he began, obviously in a panic, “I can explain—”

“Boy, don’t fuck with me today,” she cut him off at once. Her word choice caused them all to stiffen simultaneously. Their backs straightened like soldiers and they all looked straight ahead, deliberately avoiding eye contact with her.

Much better, Beulah smirked to herself. She may not like to handle kids, but at least she knew how.

“There ain’t a damn system in this entire school you haven’t tried to hack into, boy,” she went on, pacing her office. “More than any other name, ‘Hikaru Sulu’ appears in my misdemeanor logs at least two or three times a week. Granted, it’s mostly suspicion, but boy, I know. So for the rest of this conversation, I don’t want a goddamn word out of you, hear?”

The blue-haired boy nodded once, clearly trying not to have a nervous breakdown.

“Good,” Beulah snorted. “You were the one who tended the plant. But Mr. McCoy over there saw himself fit play doctor; to design the drug, determine the dosage, and then prescribe it to the student body. Kirk, you’re captain of the blabbermouths—you were probably head of the public relations department, weren’t you? And Mr. Spock,” she spat, “you know, I almost didn’t accept you to my school? Your parents damn near had to beg. After all the fights you got into since before you even had pubic hair, the last thing I needed in my school was a Vulcan with anger management issues.”

All the boys’ heads turned to Spock in utter shock. Feeling their baffled gazes wandering over him, trying to recognize their friend, Spock blushed the darkest green in his entire life, his breath catching as he looked away in horrified shame.

Beulah harrumphed at his friends’ surprise. “Oh, y’all didn’t know? Why the hell else did you think the only Vulcan in school would be friends with likes of you? The chronic offender, the chain-smoking skirt-chaser, and the only student to ever get held back—did you really think you three were prime candidates to play friends with a Vulcan exchange student?”

All the boys blushed now, staring straight ahead once more. The headmistress moved around her desk to take her seat before she began very seriously, “Do you know why contraceptives are so strictly forbidden at Stellar Valley?” she asked lowly. When no responded, she gravely continued, “Because you’re not here to screw each other’s brains out. You’re not here to have a fabulous social life, period. You’re here, because even at your age, our aptitude tests determined that you are some of the brightest minds we've ever seen.  And that’s the only reason why ain’t none of y’all gettin’ expelled today.”

A collective sigh emerged, and Beulah sighed with them. Expelling kids was way too much drama for her. She didn’t want to deal with crying mothers or belligerent fathers, not to mention the extensive paperwork. Better to simply scare the shit out of them now, and hope they straighten up later.

“Miss Waters and Mr. Damien have been stabilized; they took two large doses over a twenty-four hour period and it merely shocked their systems. They admit fault for not following Mr. McCoy’s directions. However, distribution of the tincture ends now. Your parents were all contacted yesterday afternoon—” and here, Beulah noted how Spock especially shuddered at those words, “—‘cause I think it’s going to be a hell of a lot funnier if I let them deal with you.”

She paused suddenly, as if seriously deliberating whether or not to utter her next words or not. She finally gave in. “As much as I loathe admitting it, you boys did prove to me a serious issue. If some of the smartest kids in this school can pull so idiotic and irresponsible a stunt as this, then perhaps it’s time for policy to change.

“So as of 0900 hours tomorrow, students with a B-average or above will be allowed to acquire monthly doses of contraceptives from the Nurse’s Station.  They will be carefully monitored. Any student caught with contraceptives outside their scheduled doses or with a low grade point average will be barred for a full semester—no exceptions. I want you kids—for y’all are kids, like it or not—to think very carefully about your attitudes toward sex. I want you to ask yourself if ruining a potentially glorious career exploring the galaxy and discovering brand new worlds is worth a five-minute screw between classes. And when you answer yourself, I want you to be perfectly honest.


The boys rose and started to filed out, but horror of horrors, Beulah calmly added, “Mr. Sulu, sit the fuck back down.”

While appearing to have a stroke, the boy silently complied. His friends gave him sympathetic glances, right before they hastily abandoned him to his fate.

“It’s my understanding you want to be a pilot someday?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered tightly, fearfully looking at her face and then focusing her desk.

“That’s a huge responsibility,” she mulled for a bit, leaning back into her ergonomic chair. “I mean, everyone’s always saying ‘Captain’ this and ‘Commander’ that, but it’s the man at the helm who makes it happen. He’s the one who gets everyone where they need to go, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m not sure you do. As a potential Starfleet student who wishes to sit at the helm of a starship, your judgment has to be impeccable, hear? Piloting is gift; there are people who’ve flown ships all their adult lives and still don’t know what the hell they’re doing. You have a gift, Mr. Sulu, and I don’t just mean hacking, tampering, and reprogramming shit—you have an innate ability to make yourself one with your ship. But you’ll never see the inside of a starship if you pull another stunt at this school. Your uncle, Admiral Ryu Sulu, has already made it clear he will have you barred from even applying to the Academy if you get into anymore trouble this year.  Your parents stand by him on this.”

The blood drained from the boy’s face and his whole body stiffened. He didn’t even have the voice to say, “Yes, ma’am.”

“You come from a long line of sailors,” she said softly. “I’d hate to see that line end with you.” Pause.  “Dismissed, Mr. Sulu.”


Outside the headmistress’s office, Spock was surprised to find Nyota waiting for him. She was fresh from Vulcan Lit, wearing her uniform and a purple cardigan. She approached him at once, asking lowly, “Are you expelled?”

“No,” he answered stiffly, “but my parents have been contacted.” He looked away, as if to hide the growing panic in his eyes. Nyota could read the single world bouncing frantically around his mind.


“I’m sure they’ll forgive you,” she said softly. “I mean, I have.”

His eyes snapped to her at once, suddenly forgetting his trouble. “You have?” he asked, surprise shining in his eyes. “You won’t…” he trailed for a second, as though searching for the proper phrase, “‘break up’ with me?”

Nyota chuckled softly as they put distance between themselves and the headmistress’s office (the place gave off a “Dark Arts” sort of vibe). “I thought about it,” she answered honestly, “but then I remembered that you’re a half-human teenaged boy and that I might as well start getting used to being disappointed in you.”

They walked in silence for a moment, before Nyota finally asked the painful question, “Will you have to leave the school? Return to Vulcan?”

“It’s a strong possibility,” he stated honestly. “This will not go over well with my father. He never liked it when I got in trouble at school.”

“I’d imagine,” Nyota raised an eyebrow. She took his hands, linking fingers with him. “After all, things tend to be a lot harder when you’re the ‘son of Sarek.’”

A voice rang out over the intercom suddenly, startling them both.

“Spock of Laidley House, please report to the outdoor Promenade. Spock of Laidley House, please report to the outdoor Promenade. You have a visitor. Repeat: You have a visitor.”

Nyota watched him blanche, and tightened her grip on his hand. “I’m with you,” she whispered. If she had thought he’d tell her no, that he wanted to handle this on his own, she was delightfully surprised to see him nod. Together, they headed out to the Promenade.

Spock’s ‘guest’ was a bit of a shock to them both. They arrived alone, in stately pale, greenish Vulcan robes.

Nyota her boyfriend gasp in manner she rarely heard as he uttered a single word.


Next ~ Amanda