Cookies 'N' Milk - Chapter 51
Dinner was a roaring success! Everyone got acquainted while they ate the delicious food, but, Tyr kept himself aloof from most of the conversation. He was busy considering the surprise he had for a certain someone, when Harper sat next to him on the couch.
“What's the matter Big Guy? You okay? You hardly ate anything.” Harper asked.
“I'm not hungry.” Tyr replied. As he'd only eaten a small salad.
“Now that is an understatement.” Harper said. “I've seen you eat Tyr, so you can't fool me.” Indeed Harper was not fooled. Tyr ate like a ravenous wolf when hungry.
“I am preoccupied.” Tyr stated simply as he watched Sabra settle the children down. Their hunger sated both Saleem and Ahsa had played with and were cuddled by everyone present, including Tyr. Now, they had become sleepy and fussy, so Sabra pulled out a portable sleeping basket, watched them groom, curl up with each other and go to sleep.
“Oh that's right you have three wives, but so far you've only introduced me to two of them. Who is the third and where is she?” Harper asked.
“She is the current Admiral of this station, and she is most likely in some kind of meeting right now.” Tyr replied.
“You mean the one with the Cleopatra eyes? Oh man! How'd you luck up on that one?” Harper asked clearly in awe.
“Little man. If I told you, I'd have to kill you.” Tyr intoned. Harper grinned because he knew Tyr wouldn't harm a hair on his head. This was just Tyr's way of warning Harper away from the mine field that the Nietzschean considered his personal business.
“How come you get all of the women and Dylan doesn't?” Harper asked. Tyr rolled his eyes when he heard the oft asked query, again.
“Because he is Human, and I am not. I am an Alpha Nietzschean . . . . .” Tyr stated as if he were speaking to a Human two year old.
“. . . . . . .And since you guys are extra special you get all the perks, including all of the women you want.” Seamus finished for his friend. “I kinda wish I was like that sometimes.” Harper added.
“You would not be able to handle it, Seamus.” Tyr replied. “It is a big responsibility to have multiple consorts. You must cater to their demands. You must know each one, what their likes and dislikes are, you must schedule time for them. When they bare children that will be an additional burden. My oldest brother Agamemnon has 32 wives. He always loses a few to poachers because some are just forgotten. And the last thing a woman wants is to be forgotten. If she can't get love from you she will get it from someone else.” Tyr said.
“32? What the heck do you do with 32 wives?” Seamus asked aghast. He'd heard high status Nietzschean males would routinely take on multiple wives, but that many?
“The same thing you do with one, only repeat it 31 times.” Tyr replied with a perfectly deadpan expression. Harper winced.
“Cater to their demands?” Harper asked.
“If they demand your presence you must go to them. Remember, Nietzschean society is matriarchal. When your wives make demands, as their consort, you must comply.” Tyr replied.
“What if they all demand your presence at the same time?” Harper asked.
“Then you must prioritize. First you must make obeisance to the Matriarch of your Pride. Then to your Number One wife next, because she is your Queen, and so on.” Tyr replied.
“Wow.” Harper said.
“Seamus, all you are occupied with are the numbers, so you do not see the strife, bickering, fighting, and skullduggery which goes on in the background. That many women in one place over a long period of time. . . . . . .
Most of Agamemnon’s time is spent off planet conducting business. He tells me that every time he returns, it is like descending into Dante's Inferno. Your Earth holy book the Bible advises to “Be content with thy lot.”. Monique is a good woman, she'll love and care for you, you return the favor, and you will have no need of anything else.” Tyr advised. Harper was stunned speechless, as this was the first time he'd heard Tyr wax so poetic on this subject.
The Nietzschean quietly excused himself. Went to the kitchen and picked up the Nelly Pot by the handle. Before he could turn around Tamara was on him. Cuddling and kissing.
“I'll be back, Lady.” Tyr said to Tam as he kissed her on her forehead.
“I know, I just wanted to say goodbye.” she said, as she smiled at him.
“What was that word again?” Tyr asked. Tamara giggled because he was well aware of their secret code word.
“Antidisestablishmenterianism.” she said.
“We must agree upon a shorter word.” he said.
“A word that is hardly used except for when we need it. If you pick a shorter word like 'wolf' every time someone says 'wolf' I will shut down.” she explained.
Tyr pouted but had to agree. He hugged her one last time and sensed the telepathic connection fade like a light turning down and going out. This was the part which always saddened him about their relationship. He felt so empty without her presence in his mind.
Back in the living room he intended to tell everyone good night but received the biggest surprise ever. Monique hugged him.
“Our Pride's name is Secreto. It means secret in Spanish.” she said to him telepathically, as she gazed up at him with intense brown eyes. Tyr remembered Kata Number One in the nick of time or his chin would've fallen to the deck. He gazed at Khan who winked at him and pulled his whiskers back.
Without missing a beat or step Tyr thanked everyone for coming and beat a hasty retreat into the corridor.
There, he took the lift two levels up to Officer's Country.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The corridors of Officer's Country were semi-dark but some were dark because Deep Space Ten did not have a full compliment of flag officers yet. Despite this, Tyr easily found Amanda's quarters. It was the one with the walk in Inter-Galactic shipping container parked outside.
With her official retirement and decommission coming up tomorrow night, Amanda had packed most of her personal belongings. She was planning to either send them to Earth or have them stored and shipped at a later date.
And of course her quarters were locked. Tyr stopped before her door, and set the pot down on the deck. He smiled to himself as he extracted a tiny tool from his pocket, quietly removed the bulkhead panel and went to work. Less than a minute later, the doors whooshed open. Tyr neatly replaced the panel, grabbed the pot and stepped into Amanda's darkened quarters.
“A piece of cake.” Tyr said, quoting his little brother, Seamus. Not only did he disable the lock, but he'd also disabled the lights and the computer.
He looked around and saw another shipping container filled the living room. This one was open and obviously in the process of being packed. He took the Nelly pot to the kitchen and placed it on the counter, then headed towards the bedroom.
Once inside the bedroom Tyr was in for a surprise. Instead of a bed, there was a giant hammock strung between a metal frame.
“A harmless minor detail Khan neglected to warn me about.” Tyr thought as he sat in the side of it, removed his boots, climbed in, stretched out, and waited.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Admiral Amanda V. Hemingway had plans for tonight. She was going back to her quarters, retire to her hammock with a good book ( “A Tale Of Two Cities” ) and her last package of Double Chocolate Fudge Brownie Cookies, some cold milk, and chill until she fell asleep.
She was bone-tired but she was much too keyed to sleep. Since she already worked out earlier, chocolate and a good book was the next best alternative. So she was looking forward to it with great anticipation.
However, when she turned the corner in the corridor she instinctively knew something was wrong. She automatically reached to her right hip and unclipped her phaser. Since the station wasn't fully occupied Deep Space Ten's Chief of Security had warned everyone to either travel in pairs, groups and or carry armament, just in case.
Amanda crept up to her door with the stealth and ease of a cat and examined to door. There was no outward evidence of tampering, but that meant nothing to her. The Admiral was well aware that there were ways to gain access to her locked quarters without damaging the doors.
She deftly removed the same panel that Tyr had removed approximately 45 minutes ago and examined the circuitry, which had been rendered dead as a doorknob.
“My, my. Apparently I'm dealing with some kind of expert here.” she thought, as she removed her own small universal tool from her pocket and went to work.
** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
From where he lay on Amanda's hammock, Tyr was awakened from his impromptu nap by the sounds of Amanda tinkering at the door. Unlike him, she had no need of stealth. After all, if Security did catch her, what were they going to do, arrest her for breaking into her own quarters?
So, Tyr smiled in the darkness as Amanda hissed curses in an alarming amount of languages, while she worked. Obviously she was not as adroit as he in things electronic.
When the doors hissed open, Amanda crept into her pitch black quarters. Getting the doors to open was one thing, getting the lights and computer to work . . . . . . . She reached to her left side and produced her Star Fleet Standard Issue hand flash and flicked it on. She carefully checked the perimeter, armed phaser in one hand and flash in the other.
As far as Amanda could see, everything was the same as she had left it earlier that morning. So, she proceeded to the bedroom. As soon as she got to the door, she knew someone was in there. At the door she payed the flash along the deck to the hammock.
On a whim she payed it along the lower half of the hammock and was rewarded the sight of a pair camel colored feet. Further up, the legs attached to said feet were encased in brown leather.
"Some one's been sleeping in my bed. Baby bear said. And, he's still here. . . . ." Amanda sang in her mind. The Promethian version of "The Three Bears" fairy tale was a children's song. Of course, there was no doubt in her mind who the "intruder" was.
“So much for cookies, milk, and a good book.” she thought, as she powered down the phaser, turned off the hand flash, and smiled in the darkness.
Reader's Note: The term "Cleopatra Eyes" refers to the ice blue color of a Malamute Huskies eyes. Some wolves have the same eye color. Promethians have this eye color due to alien trace elements in the soil which modified genes which dictate eye color.
Poachers This word is NOT CANNON in the Andromeda universe. In their quest for perfection, only the BEST male Nietzscheans get to mate with women. Which to me would leave a lot of males on the "Outside Looking In", so I developed a term and custom where those Nietzschean men who supposedly don't quite measure up can steal a wife or wives for themselves.
They often hang around prominent Nietzschean males who have many ( often so many that some are ignored ) and they entice one or two away. It is an accepted practice because Nietzschean society is Matriarchal and if the woman decides to leave and go with another, so be it. The jilted consort typically does nothing to the Poacher but level a few ceremonial and baseless threats. Of course, the Poacher spends the rest of his life proving that he is worthy of the wife/wives he had stolen. . . . . .
After all, what did Spock say to T'Pring, about Stonn in "Amok Time"? "You will find that having is not as pleasant as wanting. . . . . . . ."
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