Staking A Claim - Chapter 8

Again I have been remiss! I knew there was SOMETHING I was forgetting!




BONEBLADES: What are they? 


Boneblades are uniquely designed for Homo Sapiens Invitcus (The Nietzscheans) so that he or she are never unarmed. They consist of three boney protuberances which extend out from the radial bones of the forearms. When at rest they lie flat against the back of the owners forearms. As you can see from the photo above.


During conflict they extend out like a cats claws to rip, or tear. The men wear leather gauntlets on their forearms which help to protect the sensitive skin around each blade, Women, unless they are going into battle wear a feminine cuff type covering over theirs.


Boneblades are a once in a life time thing. Should a Neitzschean lose his/her boneblades in an accident or battle, they cannot be replaced. This may also be why some Nietzscheans have chosen to have their boneblades removed in order to appear more Human. . . .


Now that I've totally bored you with that . . . . On with the story!




* * * * * *


Free Enterprise  –  Staking A Claim - Chapter #8




That night Khan did not sleep well at all. His wife Fatou put their two kits to sleep and she stayed up for two hours with him. Finally she went to sleep, because Khan promised he would join her soon.


Funny thing, he knew he would not, and so did Sabra. They were both precognitive, ( with Khan being the stronger of the two ), and they both knew that there were times when The Gift “spoke” and it's content was disturbing. Sometimes too disturbing to tell those involved, and far too disturbing to sleep on.


Right now, one young man's face dominated Khan's thoughts. Nietzschean Captain Tyr Anasazi, out of Victory by Barbarossa. The tenth son whom Barbarossa had predicted would be “the center of the wheel”, didn't even own a pot to pee in, compared to his older brothers.


All of his brothers were well established, and owned ships, planets, an orbital platform and space station or two, wives and many children. Tyr was Tyr and was satisfied with what he had. A ship with stars to navigate by. So what it wasn't his own ship. . . . .


But, that was about to change. The problem was, how did one make such a prediction? When the Divine gave The Gift to the Katay, He also gave them the Revelational Guide. It was a Divine instruction manual on the responsibilities of being a "precog".


Unlike fortune tellers, The Gifted did not just tell a poor man “You're going to be rich.” According to the Revelational Guide, The Gifted was responsible to guide the poor man step by step until he reached his riches.


Like: “You have to go to this house at this address, and meet this man who's name is so and so. Ask for this woman, whose name is so and so, and she will give you the name and address of another location. Go to that location which happens to be a bank and speak to this man and he will give you the key to a safety deposit box. . . . . .” That's of course, if the hearer was willing to believe and do so.


Tyr's first step was connecting with T'Marr.


“Now if I can just get the stubborn Nietzschean to invite her to have dinner with him in the Captain's mess a couple of nights a week. . . . .” Khan thought. And he had to do it soon, because the other male Nietzschean members of the crew were casting their eyes in T'Marr's direction. . . . . .




* * * * * * * * * *


After two days of uninterrupted rest, T'Marr woke up early on the third morning and went to the gym. After her workout, she headed back to her quarters to get cleaned up and was preparing to do some serious reading when she noticed she had a message on her console.


When she opened the message The Captain's personal signature page came up.


“Oh what fresh hell is this?” she thought, as she opened the message. It was a text message which simply said:


“Please join me for dinner at 1900 hours tonight in the Captain's Mess.” T'Marr read with her heart in her throat.


“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! What am I going to wear?” she asked, as she ran to her closet and began snatching out clothing.




* * * * * * * * * *


“There! Now, I've sent it. Fat lot of good it will do if she doesn't come.” Tyr rumbled.


“Trust me, she'll be there.” Khan replied. The tiny hairs on Tyr's neck stood on end. He hated when that happened.


“Bye the way, what are we going to do with Ensign DeMato?” Khan asked as an aside. Tyr stood and went to his favorite spot to gaze out of the viewport at the stars.


“His request for transfer has been denied.” Tyr replied


“His request is legitimate.” Khan stated.


“I understand and sympathize. However, I've also taken the liberty of checking the replacement pools. There are currently no other Communications Officers equaling his caliber to replace him, so I am initiating Stop Loss. Unless I'm guaranteed a suitable replacement, Ensign DeMato stays.” Tyr intoned.


“My, that is most unfortunate. He is not going to want to hear that.” Khan replied.


“It is most unfortunate for the both of us. Our Human cousins stink when they are fearful, and Ensign DeMato is sacred to death of me.” Tyr said.


Khan was a living witness of what he was talking about. Nietzschean men seemed to strike fear in the hearts of most Human males. Especially the Alphas like Tyr.


Alphas were the bigger, stronger, meaner, and the more dominant members of the Nietzschean Prides. On their home worlds, they lived in the lap of luxury because they got all of the women and got to father as many children as they wanted. The cost was they had to fight for and win the woman's favor, fight for everything and to keep everything. "Only the strong survive!" was the number one Nietzschean motto.


Khan had been working with Tyr to get him to “tone it down” just a bit. So, by having Tyr modify his stance while around his male human crew members and officers was helping, somewhat.


“Remember what we discussed earlier?” Khan asked, pointing at Tyr's crossed arms with his boneblades which were half extended. The darned things reminded Khan of his own claws, which he had to consciously keep retracted.


The Ready Room's door chime rang, as Tyr dropped his arms behind his back in parade rest mode. Hiding the boneblades. Khan pulled his whiskers back in a smile.


“Enter.” Tyr said. And Ensign DeMato stepped into The Lion's Den.