The two of them stood in the lift together. For whatever reason, since the beginning of time – or at least ever since lifts had been invented – no one ever really talked in one. Nyota Uhura decided to break the silence. “Mister Spock,” she ventured, “how are you feeling?” 

“Feeling, Lieutenant?” 

“Yes, feeling. Your former commanding officer is here, and he’s in, well, there’s no good way to say this. He’s in rather hard to take shape. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Fleet Captain Pike’s condition is,” the Vulcan hesitated; perhaps he was unsure of the best way to put things, “significantly altered.” 

Uhura raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad you’re not a writer, Mister Spock. You seem to have no flair for descriptive prose.”

“Perhaps. Such is not my function.”

“Be that as it may, sir, I know that there are people on this ship who care about you. I won’t be offended if you don’t talk to me, but you should talk to someone.” 

The lift stopped and the doors parted, revealing a room where a permanently injured man, confined to a futuristic wheelchair, was parked. The only other person in there was a rather bored-looking attendant. “Perhaps,” Spock replied. The attendant joined Uhura in the lift and the doors swished closed before she could comment any further. 

=/= 

A few hours later, the ship had been diverted to a planet called Talos IV. It was a restricted place, and Spock was, suddenly, in major trouble. Uhura knew something of it, but not the particulars. She was done with her shift, and something made her go to the observation lounge on Deck 4. When the lounge’s doors opened, she again saw the attendant and the man in the chair. “May I?” she asked the attendant. 

The attendant, a young human man, shrugged. 

Uhura went over to the chair. “Excuse me, sir,” she said evenly, “but my name is Nyota Uhura. I, we’ve never met.” There was a beep from the chair. “What does that mean?” 

“Once for yes, twice for no,” replied the bored attendant. 

“Oh! Thank you. Sir, it’s an honor to meet you.” She paused. What to say? She had heard that Fleet Captain Christopher Pike had suffered horrific delta radiation burns, while saving crew members. She had heard that he was blind, or nearly so. He would never walk again, and would never speak. Whatever was left of him was permanently affixed to that chair. “I am; my rank is Lieutenant. I am the Communications Officer. And, uh, I’m 165 centimeters tall, and I weigh about 54 and a half kilos, and my skin is dark brown. So is my hair. And I’m 31 years old. I hope that helps a bit, so that you can picture what I’m like.” 

One beep. Yes. 

“I, I hope we can meet again soon. All right?” 

One beep. 

The attendant shrugged again as she departed. 

=/= 

Spock’s troubles turned into a hearing, and Pike and his attendant remained on board as the Enterprise continued to hurtle toward the forbidden site of Talos IV. There was a break in the proceedings, and Uhura went to the mess hall. She saw the chair, parked in a corner, with an intravenous unit attached. Pike, apparently, was also dining, in his own limited way. The attendant was nowhere to be found, and the chair was facing a darkened corner. She whispered to herself, “It’s heartbreaking.” 

She approached the chair. Gently, she said, “I don’t know if you remember me, sir, but it’s Nyota again. I was hoping that I could have lunch with you.” 

One beep. 

She slowly steered the chair to an unoccupied table, and made sure the intravenous line didn’t get tangled or kinked. “I’ll be right back. I just have to get my tray.”

She got into line just behind Nurse Chapel. “Will you join us? And maybe tell him a bit of detail about yourself, so he can, I hope, picture it?” Nyota asked; gesturing a little at the table where Pike’s chair was parked. 

“Of course.” The ladies got their trays and brought them over. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Nyota said, “but my friend Christine Chapel wanted to join us.” 

One beep. 

“We met at Sick Bay,” Christine explained. “I’m Doctor McCoy’s Head Nurse. I, uh, I’m about 167 centimeters tall. I won’t, uh, maybe I won’t tell you my age or my weight, all right?” 

One corner of Pike’s mouth very, very slightly turned upwards. “Did you see that?” Nyota asked. 

“Yes.” Christine smiled. “Captain Pike liked my joke, I think.” 

One beep. 

“Is this seat taken?” It was a beautiful young blonde. 

“Of course not,” Nyota said brightly. “Captain Pike, this is Yeoman Janice Rand.” 

One beep. 

“Sir,” Janice asked, “are you comfortable?” 

One beep. 

Then there was a series of beeps. Doubles and then singles. There were quite a few of them together. “What does that mean?” asked Janice. 

“Wait a second,” Nyota said, listening closely, “I think that’s old Morse code. H-E-R. Sir, what about her? Can you repeat?” 

More slowly and carefully, Pike beeped several times. Nyota spelled it out. “C-H-R-I-S-T-O-P-H-E-R. Sir, do you want us to call you Christopher?” 

One beep. 

Two other women approached with trays. “Marla! Helen!” Nyota called out brightly. “Come and join us. Do you know Christopher? This is Marla McGivers and Helen Noel.” 

“How do you do?” Marla asked. 

There was a series of beeps. “He says,” Nyota explained, “that’s he’s very happy to have such beautiful company.” She spotted a friend. “Angela, over here!”

They came over, and there were not enough chairs and the table wasn’t big enough, so chairs and tables were dragged over as well, until it was every woman on the ship. 

And even as the Enterprise continued on a forbidden course, and Mister Spock’s future was in doubt, there was still some comfort, and still some joy, as every woman on the Enterprise had lunch with Fleet Captain Christopher Pike that day.