Monday, August 8, 2011

It's Show Time! - Chapter 40

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 Free Enterprise  -  It's Show Time! - Chapter 40


“How much food does it take to feed a Nietzschean? Apparently a whole lot!” Amanda thought to herself as she watched Captain Anasazi polish off two plates of food, a large bowl of salad and quaffed a gallon pitcher of home made lemonade.

“The poor thing was hungry enough to eat a horse, including the hooves.” she thought. She smiled as she recalled that he liked the Stewed Fish the best. Perhaps next time she would personally prepare it for him in the near future. She was about to mention it when she happened to glance at the time on the wall chrono.

“I hate to cut this short Tyr, but I'm expecting the Vulcan and Tellarite delegation to arrive in an hour and I've got to clean up and put on my Class As. I'm extending an official invitation to join me at this meeting because it's also going to involve the Nietzscheans as well. Please feel free to bring Counselor/Yeoman Khan and anyone else you deem necessary. Since you don't know your way around the station yet, we will meet back in front of the restaurant in a forty-five minutes.” Amanda said, as she stood.

“Yes, Ma'am.” Tyr as he also rose. As soon as the two left, Rodger was back with his crew to clean up.

Forty minutes later Tyr and Khan stood waiting in front of The Pepper Pot. Tyr was chaffing in his Class A vest. There was something about the damned thing that made him want to snatch it off and rip it to shreds, because it itched. Tyr was in the midst of running his index finger along the back of his collar for the umpteenth time when Khan softly hissed a warning and both men straightened up to attention.

Down the promenade strode Admiral Hemingway and her staff. Dressed in her Class As, she looked every inch the Admiral. Tyr blinked when he saw her hair. It had been tied up with a black bandana which bore the Union Jack,while she was cooking, serving, and eating. But dressed as she was now, he saw that she was wearing a feminized version of a Star Fleet Marine's “high and tight”. Her hair was was very short on the sides and in the back but on the top of her head she had a patch of very tight black curls.

“Captain. Come with me.” she ordered crisply. Tyr glanced at his friend and followed the Admiral to private room which had an entire bulkhead lined with replicators. The tables and chairs strategically placed around the room led Tyr to believe this was either a Rec Room or a common mess hall. She led him to a replicator.

“What is your blouse and jacket size?” she asked. Tyr looked at her puzzled and frowned.

“I'm about to have a meeting with nearly three hundred dignitaries and I will not have you sitting next to me and scratching as if you have fleas or chiggers. Your size please.” she explained. Tyr gave her the measurements.

She gave the measurements to the computer and in less than a minute a cello wrapped packet containing the sleeveless blouse and vest for Tyr dropped into the receiving tray. Amanda handed the package to him. He knew what he was supposed to do, but he didn't want to do it in front of her.

Amanda crossed her arms, frowned at the Nietzschean and shook her head. “Captain. It's not like I've never seen a man before. I've been married three times, raised seven children, four of them sons. So take the damned thing off before you scratch yourself raw.” she said authoritatively. Tyr immediately complied.

“Jesu ,Joseph and Mary! Do all Nietzschean males look like that?” Amanda thought. She was not supposed to stare but her eyes widened briefly for a split second. He had totally impressive proportions.

Tyr replaced his Class A blouse and jacket and discarded the old ones in the recycler. He was briefly distracted as he straightened and tied back his dreadlocks when he felt and heard a movement. He put up his arms in a defensive move, not wanting to hurt his attacker. None other than the Admiral slammed into him and they both crashed into the bulkhead where she pinned him.

On their way to the meeting, Khan had used the time to brief Tyr about Promethian mating practices. It was standard practice for the Promethian female to challenge the male they were interested in. If the male backed down, they were considered weak and unsuitable.

“What ever you do if she challenges you don't back down!” Khan had warned.

Tyr heard those very word echo in his mind as Amanda literally got right up in his grille.

“I did my research and know what this means.” she said as she tapped the Double Helix he wore on his left bicep. “Let me ask you a rhetorical question. Were I to join your little group, what number wife would I be? 15? 20?” she continued.

“Rhetorically, you would be wife number three.” Tyr replied warily.

“Number three? Those are excellent odds. I'll take it.” Amanda replied.

“But, I have not offered.” Tyr protested.

“Whatya waitin' fer? Christmas?” Amanda asked and smiled. She wasn't about to let Tyr up until he gave her an answer.

“Admiral . . . .” he started.

“It's not Admiral when we are in private. Amanda.” she corrected.

“Amanda, will you . . . . .?” he started.

“Yes I will.” she said as she backed off. “We'll take of the details after all of this diplomatic bru-ha-ha dies down. Now let's get back to the group before they start thinking we're up to no good.” she continued she turned and headed for the door. Tyr was right behind her.

Outside he was immediately joined by Khan. The Katay's whiskers were on overdrive and he even chuffed a couple of times. Most of the beings assembled had no clue the Katay was laughing.

“What the hell is so damned funny?” Tyr growled.

“Everyone was wondering if something was happening between you two. I know for sure something has happened. Her scent is all over you, my Brother.” Khan said.

“I have no privacy.” Tyr lamented to himself.

“You think this is bad. Just wait until . . . . . . You shall see my Brother. You shall see.” Khan thought to himself, as he padded beside Tyr.

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