Concerns About Health - Chapter 31

NOTE TO READERS: The correct way to spell Tamara is with one "R", so if you see it with two, it was a "brain burp" . . . . . .


Free Enterprise - Concerns About Health - Chapter 31


POUND! POUND! POUND! It was the unmistakable sound of a fist pounding against The Captain's Quarters door. Followed by: Buzz, buzz, buzz! Buuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzz! Then more pounding.

Tyr groaned, opened and rolled his eyes.

“What does a body have to do in order to get some quality sleep around here?” he groused to himself as he glanced at Tam. Thankfully, she was was dead to the universe. Or so he thought.

“Who the hell is that?” she whispered, from within the folds of the covers he'd tucked around her. He was mindful that she was much more sensitive to cooler climes than he was.

“It's that crazy Kori.” Tyr grunted, as he sat up. “If I don't answer the door she will use her universal access code to gain entrance.” he continued.

“What? Why would. . . . . Kori. . . . . . ?” Tam asked as she sat up too.

“No, Tam. You go back to sleep. I will take care of this.” Tyr said, as he got to his feet. In response Tam flopped back on the bed, but did not go back to sleep.


* * * * * * *


When the doors to Captain Tyr's quarters opened, Dr. Kori had her right hand up, poised to pound on them again. Both Captain and CMO glowered at each other. Klingon Challenge against Nietzschean Stare Down. Tyr won.

Kori noted Tyr had hastily tossed on a pair of cut-off jeans, a T-shirt, and was barefoot. There was no sign of Tamarra. Kori looked over her shoulder and waved away the medics. They had two anti-grav gurneys, prepared just in case they had to haul away two sick people.

“You didn't call in.” Kori accused, as she “wanded” Tyr with her palm sized medical tricorder. Starting right in on her Captain without so much as a how do you do.

“I forgot.” Tyr sighed. Which was a likely story because Nietzscheans had excellent memories. If they forgot something, they had purposely chosen to “misremember” it.

“Captain, your blood glucose levels are down, essential fatty acids and nitrates . . . . Have you been eating properly? Have you been sleeping?” Kori asked, as she frowning. “You forget that under that tough Nietzschean hide of yours, you are still Human. And like the majority of us Humanoids, you've got to eat, sleep and take care of yourself. If you were abandoned on some Kreth forsaken planet and had to eek out an existence, I would excuse your condition. But not here where food is aplenty and opportunities to rest are nearly . . . . . .” she continued to scold.

“I've eaten and slept.” Tyr stated plainly, putting an end to Kori's diatribe. He also wished he had a nice old fashioned door he could slam in the Good Doctor's face to finalize the action. He was distracted by Tam as she silently padded out, dressed in a long, blue robe.

“Captain. Do not toy with me. The tricorder does not lie. I will check on you today at 1900 hours. If there is no improvement, I will confine your Nietzschean butt to Sickbay until your physical condition improves. The last thing this crew needs if for it's Captain to fall flat on his butt from exhaustion and starvation.” she warned. “Good day, Captain. Commander.” Kori said, as she inclined her head to both. She then turned on her heel and strode out of Tyr's quarters.

Tyr sagged against the bulkhead after the doors closed behind Kori. If only she'd known how close he was to passing out. . . . .

“Perhaps she did and wished to spare me the indignity. . . .” Tyr thought.

“Tyr! Are you okay?” Tam whispered.

“No, I am not.” he replied, as he used the last of his reserves to return to the bedroom. There he simply leaned over and crashed into the bed like a felled redwood.

“What the. . . . . . .?” Tam asked as she hurried after him. To no avail because her consort was dead to the universe.

For now, all she could do was maneuver Tyr's legs and feet so that they were in the bed and covered. Giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, she crawled back into bed and was soon asleep too.


* * * * * *

About five hours later Tyr opened his eyes to Tamarra's green eyes peering down into his.

“Babe.” she said, smiled and kissed him on the nose.

“Babe.” he said and smiled in return.

“Hey, wait a minute! You can't call me Babe when I call you Babe.” she said.

“Why ever not?” he asked.

“Because you already call me Tam, and I don't like ubiquitous nicknames which have no character or meaning.” she replied.

“Babe is not a ubiquitous nickname. I happen to like Babe.” Tyr said.

“You are a trip, you know? Speaking of trip, did you know that we are about five days away from Deep Space Ten?” she asked, skillfully changing the subject. Tyr, let it go because he didn't want to “die on that hill.” Sometimes a man needed to let a women have the silly little things they fought for.

“I see someone has been out and about.” Tyr said He took the bowl of French Vanilla yogurt with crispy crunchies mixed in, and started eating.

“Yeah! I was starting to get cabin fever.” she replied. Even with the combined space of both of their quarters, Tamarra felt like she was enclosed in a giant box. A sure sign that her Pon Farr had started to abate was the fact that she wanted to be around people again.

“Do I now have to wait another seven years. . . . .?” Tyr asked as he sat up.

“No, you don't, silly! There are over 150 billion Vulcans dwelling on Vulcan, her sister worlds and other planets including Earth. How would they have gotten there if Vulcans only procreated every seven years?” Tamarra asked and chuckled.

“Now, what were you saying about Deep Space Ten?” Tyr asked, after they'd had a good laugh over that.

“Besides stopping there to re-supply, and do some shopping, there is an Admiral I want you to meet.” she said.

“Tamara. This had better not be one of those 'I'm-introducing-you-to-my Nietzschean-consort-because-you've-never-met-one-before-and -would-like-to-meeting.” Tyr warned. He detested those! It seemed that the Nietzscheans had become the pet race of the century. Everyone wanted to meet and greet them.

“Au contraire my dear Watson. I believe she might have an offer that you cannot refuse.” Tamarra replied.

"We shall see." Tyr replied, as he polished off his yogurt.


* * * * * * * * * *


At exactly 1900 hours Kori was back buzzing her Captain's Quarters door chime again. However, Tyr and Tamarra were not asleep, in fact, they were far from it.

“Tyr, we'd better answer that.” Tamarra whispered.

“No we are not.” Tyr replied in kind.

“What if she comes in here?” Tamarra asked, aghast.

“Let her come.” Tyr said simply.

“OMG!” Tamarra thought.

Seconds later, the doors opened and in strode Kori as if she owned the place. And seconds later she came tearing out and flew down the corridor to the nearest lift, leaving her med-techs behind.

Meanwhile, inside Tyr's quarters his laughter could clearly be heard.

“You are a bad Nietzschean! Very, very bad! You embarrassed the poor woman!” Tamarra said, as she whacked Tyr repeatedly with a pillow. He held up his left forearm to fend off the blows.

“How so?” he asked. “You forget, the poor woman you speak of is a Klingons and from what I've heard Klingons cannot be embarrassed. Plus, she is a doctor, and did not see anything that she has not already seen.” Tyr continued. Tamarra gave up the fight and tossed the pillow aside.

“Then we'd better stay clear of her for the next couple of days. And don't you dare laugh every time you see her.” Tamarra admonished.

“I cannot guarantee that, Tamara. However, she will never enter my quarters again without my express permission.” Tyr stated as he pulled her into an embrace.

“I certainly hope not.” Tamara said as she snuggled into her mate's arms.