It was a good thing T'Marr arrived early for her shift. It seemed the second she'd stepped off the lift, she was informed that Captain Tyr wished to see her.
“So much for looking forward to a nice, quiet morning.” she thought, as she buzzed for entrance.
“Enter.” Tyr's voice called. T'Marr entered and stood at attention. The captain was sitting at his desk with his fingers steepled as he gazed wordlessly at her. Khan was standing with his back to them, while gazing out of the window at the stars. The “I'm here, but not here” stance.
“At ease, Commander.” Tyr said. T'Marr slipped into parade rest.
“I have been reviewing your service record and noted some inconsistencies. Would you mind explaining them to me?” he continued.
“Oh hell. . .” T'Marr thought, as her facial expression maintained the Vulcan stoic norm.
“Inconsistencies, Sir?” she asked.
“Medical leaves, with no specific reason listed. The latest one extended over a period of two years.” Tyr said. T'Marr steeled herself for what she had to say.
“It has to do with the Vulcan mating cycle, and is called Pon Farr.” she stated, as she watched Captain Anasazi sit back in his chair, prop his right elbow up on the right chair arm, rest his chin on his fist, and gaze intently at her. Meaning: “I'm waiting to hear more.”
“Vulcans are universally granted medical leave by Starfleet for Pon Farr.” T'Marr continued.
“There first four medical leaves were approximately two months long. However the last leave. . . .” Tyr started.
“There were complications, Sir.” T'Marr stated, suddenly standing at attention again.
Tyr didn't miss the nuance.
“What kind of complications, Commander?” Tyr asked.
“They are of a very personal nature and I prefer not to discuss them at this time, Sir.” she replied.
“Will these so-called complications affect your ability to function on this ship, Commander?” Tyr grilled.
“No, Sir. They will not, Sir.” T'Marr replied.
“If they do, you are to seek immediate assistance from Yeoman Khan, Doctor Kori, or myself. Have I made myself clear, Commander?” Tyr stated authoritatively.
“Yes, Sir.” T'Marr replied.
“You are dismissed.” Tyr said. T'Marr executed a textbook parade right and strode out of the Ready Room.
Once she was gone, Khan turned from the window to gaze at a smiling Tyr.
“She has told you nothing.” Khan said. The smile fell off Tyr's face like a stone falling off a cliff. Tyr scowled at his friend.
“But she told me. . . .” he started.
“Have you ever seen an iceberg, Tyr?” Khan asked.
“I've seen holos of them. What does that have to do with our conversation?” Tyr asked.
In response, Khan activated Tyr's desk screen, accessed the net and brought up a holo of an iceberg. It was a typical holo of a hulking mass of ice floating on the surface of a sea on Any Planet.
“Those of us who know icebergs, know that the visible part of it, is just the surface and shallow part. The real danger lies beneath the surface.” Khan stated, as the computer automatically rotated the shot to show the gigantic and vast piece of ice which hung under the water.
“Trust me, she only told you the surface.” Khan continued, sagely.
Tyr was about to reply when he was hailed by the bridge.
“Captain. We have reached the rendezvous point for scheduled war games with The Cochise, Sitting Bull, Black Hoof, Geronimo, and Chief Joseph. The IKV In'Cha, Gowron, and The Gorkon. The Martok, and Azetbur will be arrive in approximately ten minutes.” T'Marr intoned.
“Damned Klingons are always late. They would be late to their own funnarel, if it were possible.” Tyr groused to himself, as he left his Ready Room and stepped on to the bridge. T'Marr immediately stood and turned over command to him, retreating to an unattended auxiliary station. On ships which had Nietzschean captains, there was only ONE center seat. . . .
Tyr sat back as the seat reformed itself to fit him and watched the three Klingon ships grow larger on the main viewer. They approached the line of Starships which were already waiting.
“Azetbur is hailing us, Sir.” Ensign DeMato called out, ten minutes later. It was his first day on the Insurrection's bridge, and he was scared to death of Captain Tyr. Tyr knew it because he could smell the man's fear, but he ignored it.
“Put it on screen, Ensign.” he ordered. The view switched from space to the bridge of the Azetbur and her captain.
“Captain Tollok of the Azetbur speaking. And who might you be?” the giant of a Klingon male asked.
“Captain Tyr Anasazi of the U.S.S. Insurrection.” Tyr replied. He'd made sure he was seated so that the visual pickup would show his bone blades.
“Ah, a Nietzschean.” Tollok said.
“You are late.” Tyr stated.
“We had a little problem with our warp coils. We didn't want to blow up before we got here. It was either that or we would've had to get out and push.” Tollock replied, and chuckled at his own quip. Tyr rolled his eyes and privately wondered how the Klingons managed to make it into space in the first place.
“Exercise to commence in five minutes.” Tyr stated. He had been designated as the official leader of said war games, and he was going to give them hell.
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