The rest of the meeting only lasted for about an hour. HaxHis ended it with a reminder to everyone the Change Of Command Ceremony was going to be held in the Rickenbacker Auditorium at 1700 hours.
Diplomats, ambassadors and various other functionaries and lackies scattered to take care of their last minute preparations. As Tyr, Khan and Amanda got ready to leave. HaxHis called them aside.
“Admiral, you are dismissed. I will see you later.” HaxHis said as she pulled her whiskers back.
“Ma'am.” Amanda said as she inclined her head, caught and gave Tyr's right hand a gentle squeeze, and promptly took her leave.
“Come with me gentlemen.” HaxHis said.
They followed her to an empty office. Quite obviously this was her temporary digs because a couple of small shipping crates stood in the corner. She gestured for both men to sit as she perched side saddle on the corner of the desk, picked up a PADD and handed it to Tyr.
When Tyr activated the PADD a list of names came up. First and foremost was Commander Tamara McPhearson. The Nietzschean Captain looked up questioningly at The Fleet Admiral.
“I may as well come clean with you Captain. This evening you are going to be promoted to Rear Admiral. That means that each successive officer behind you in the Insurrection's chain of command is line for promotion. Unless of course you want to chance Starfleet selecting a random Captain to take your place.” HaxHis said.
Tyr immediately saw red and had to restrain himself from growling like an angry doberman. He took a deep and cleansing breath, looked up and saw both HaxHis and Khan staring at him.
“I thought not.” HaxHis stated.
“Please forgive me for cutting this so close but I only received approval this early morning before the meeting. Captain, were you an early bird like you usually are we wouldn't have been sitting here now.” she scolded. “Congratulations, bye the way.” she continued.
“Thank you, Admiral.” Tyr replied, wondering what exactly was HaxHis congratulating him for. The addition of a new wife to his family, his promotion, or both.
“You are most welcome.” HaxHis said as she stood. “I shall return in 45 minutes. That should be more than enough time to have everything sorted out. If you finish earlier, call me.” she said as she headed for the door.
“Oh and by the way, I've given Commander McPherson and Lieutenant Commander Anol orders to relocate your families official residence to Officer's Country. After all, you are part of our family now.” HaxHis said as a parting shot.
After the doors closed behind her, Katay and Nietzschean silently stared at one another for about a minute.
“Don't look at me like that Tyr. I warned you this was coming.” Khan said, breaking the silence.
“I have not told my wives. . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Because?” Khan asked.
“I was busy. . . .” Tyr replied.
“No.” Khan said, stopping him.
“I was distracted. . . . .” Tyr said.
“No.” Khan said, again. Stopping his friend.
“I did not believe it would happen.” Tyr finally said.
“Is that your final answer?” Khan asked. In response Tyr glowered at his Katay brother and wondered which was be the best way to skin him alive. Khan merely gazed back at Tyr and chuffed.
“After all of these years you still don't believe me? If you don't believe me now for little things, what about the big things?” Khan asked, mock hurt evident in his voice.
“It did not feel right to me.” Tyr confessed. Khan knew very well what he meant. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck and arms didn't stand at attention when Khan first had made the prediction. Or it may have happened and he ignored it, as there was quite a bit of distraction going on.
It was a well-documented fact that most Humanoid races who encountered the precognitive Katay reported having a “quickening” during a prediction. The experience ranged from the typical short hairs standing on end, seeing an aura, ears ringing, having a chill to the bone, or tinkling of tiny bells, to name a few. However, the “quickening” was so brief and fleeting, that if one had not been trained to recognize and heed it, one would run slap dab into the bulkhead the Katay predicted one minute earlier.
However, Tyr had been thoroughly trained by Khan, which left one only answer.
“You know what you're problem is? You are just a hard-headed Nietzschean kumquat.” Khan accused.
The second the last syllable left Khan's his mouth, Tyr was on him. The two men pounded on one another, not hurting each other, but totally trashed the office. With ten minutes to spare they sat and made their decisions as to who would be promoted. Then Tyr called HaxHis.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * ** *
HaxHis had just met with Tyr and Khan to retrieve the PADD. She stood before the door of her temporary office and wondered why Captain Tyr had insisted they meet “outside”.
The door opened and.
“What the. . . . . . . .?!” HaxHis asked no in particular. “What am I to do with those children?” she thought as she sighed and shook her maned head. She carefully padded through the mess, reached her desk console and put in a call to the Quartermaster.
“Thank The Divine, this is not MY office!” HaxHis thought as she sat on the desk to wait.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He'd done a Herculean workout, cleaned up, had a huge lunch, now he was officially out for the count.
“Diane, can you please hand me another jar of bee's wax?” Xena asked. Ensign Diane Ortiz handed her the jar and continued on to the other corner of the room.
Xena twisted the cover off the jar, dipped her fingers into it, drew out a small portion, applied it to the hair and twisted. She had been doing this off and on for the past two hours and was almost finished.
She smiled down at her “special customer” who was asleep in the barber's chair. Tyr Anasazi usually had his locks religiously washed, twisted and trimmed every ten days, but due to the upcoming festivities, he'd submitted to her tender mercies.
"You never know who might show up. Plus, the media is here." Xena had chided.
Around them the beauty parlor was humming with activity. Four other women were getting their hair done and there was a line to get manicures, pedicures and facials. A dream come true for Xena. She'd always wanted her own parlor. For now she didn't mind paying a small fee to rent a booth.
She finished the last lock and stepped back to admire her work. She was not the only one. She suspected another one of the reasons “Hair It Is” was so crowded was the fact that her consort was there.
It seemed that when and where ever Alpha Nietzscheans showed up, non-Nietzschean women lined up to gawk and drool. Nietzschean women just took them in stride until they proved themselves. As Ancient Matriarch Zhara the Poetess said: “Being an Alpha is not a card blanche to a Nietzschean woman's heart. He must be tried in the flames first. If he burns up, generations cannot be raised from ashes.”
Xena gently woke Tyr with a hand on his chest. He opened his eyes and gazed at her.
“I need to give you a trim so you must sit up. Plus, how do you want to be shaved? Automatic or old-fashioned?” she asked. Xena knew that Tyr detested the auto-shaver, but had to ask anyway.
“Old-fashioned.” He replied. He sat up and the chair adjusted to his seating position. Xena fanned out his hair on his back and began to systematically clip the ends.
“I would also like you to braid it back like the way you did before.” Tyr said, as she clipped.
“Okay, but you must remember to take it out before you sleep or your locks will get wavy. I know how you hate that.” Xena said as she finished the trimming. Tyr smiled as he recalled the unfortunate incident. It was weeks before his hair straightened out again. He loathed his hair looking like "curly fries".
“I'll remember.” Tyr said as he reclined. Xena put an apron around him, and took out her shaving implements.
Tyr actually preferred to use instruments from a long by-gone era. Old fashioned shaving cream and cup with boar bristle brush and a “straight razor”. Xena got out the sharpening strop and sharpened the blade. She then expertly applied the shaving cream using the brush. Five minutes later she was done. Tyr sat up, and she plaited his hair.
As Tyr stood, he espied the bulkhead chrono.
“We'd better get going.” Tyr advised. He waited while Xena took a few minutes to neaten up her space, and close up shop. Then they both headed back to their new quarters.
Note To Readers
1. In case you're wondering. Yes, men have to get all gussied up for special events too. Nietzschean men are fastidious about their appearance. After all, you must look your best to attract the best mates. I just thought it would be fun to present the other side of the coin.
2. No, there is no Ancient Matriarch Zhara the Poetess in Andromeda CANNON. I thought there should've been one, and made her up.
3. As a throwback and tribute to my Dad,whom I've watched shave using a “straight razor” countless times. I figured since Tyr is enamored with weaponry and “sharp objects”, it stands to reason that he would like to shave with one too.
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