No Rest For The Weary - Chapter #63

Free Enterprise  -  No Rest For The Weary  -   Chapter #63



When Tyr returned to Deep Space Ten it was in the midst of controlled pandemonium. Nietzschean ships had returned and brought back sick, and wounded prisoners and slaves.

HaxHis and Ramma were helping to repatriate those who were healthy and ready to travel. Notifying loved ones and making travel plans.

As soon as HaxHis looked up and saw Tyr, she turned over her duties to Captains Skonn and Miranda and signaled him to follow her to her office. There she debriefed him for the next three hours.

“Let me get this straight. The entire Mootaru Nebula is gone? How the heck did that happen?” HaxHis asked.

“I ordered eleven Nova Bombs to be fired at the planetoid. Unfortunately when the planetoid imploded, it took the Nebula and the Vulcan observatory with it. That simply could not be helped, Ma'am.” Tyr replied, as innocently as a child who'd knocked over a bowl of oatmeal on the clean kitchen floor.

“It is a good thing you rescued the Vulcans and the observatories memory core, or they would've been history too. What the heck were the Vulcans doing out there anyway?” HaxHis asked, furrowing her brow.

“Studying the Nebula.” Tyr replied.

“Studying the Nebula my left eye. I want a download dump of everything that's on that observatories core before we give it back to them.” HaxHis said. “I also want a complete dump of everything from Ghann's computers too.”

“I will have Captain Donahue prepare and give it to you ASAP, Ma'am.” Tyr replied.

“Now, please explain to me why you felt the need to take along one of the Insurrection's EMH's.” HaxHis said. Tyr had hoped she didn't hear about that . . . . . . . .

“I needed a real-time record of the conditions and the circumstances.” he replied. “I also needed to have a doctor present has more expertise with non-Human lifeforms in case of a severe medical emergency.” he added. Nietzscheans had doctors, but their expertise were only dealt with Nietzscheans and Humans. “One that was immune to Tycelene gas.” he continued.

“And her appearance?” HaxHis probed. Tyr hesitated in answering. “If it is very personal, you don't have to answer my question. But, please answer this. Does Tamara know the EMH is the splitting image of her?” she asked.

“Ada.” Tyr replied.

“Huh?” HaxHis was caught completely off guard.

“Her given name is Ada. She has also elected to take Mookaru as her family name.” Tyr replied.

“Interesting. But, stop distracting me.” HaxHis scolded.

“No she does not know, Ma'am.” Tyr replied.

“What about Ada?” she asked. Tyr merely shook his head.

“Boy, I'd love to be a Rainbow Fly on the bulkhead when that meeting happens.” HaxHis said. “You need to tell the two of them soon, Tyr.” she continued

“The timing is not expedient at the moment.” Tyr replied.

“Mind you this is just a suggestion, but you may want to have Sabra there when it happens. She has excellent conflict resolution credentials.” HaxHis said.

“I will keep that in mind, Ma'am.”

“You're dismissed,Tyr. Go have a bath, a good meal and get some rest. I know you are a Nietzschean, but even supermen need some down time.” HaxHis said.

“Thank You, Ma'am.” he replied as he stood then took his leave.

HaxHis sighed aloud after the doors of her office closed.

“Now how in the universe can I explain to the President of the Vulcan Academy of Sciences that a Nebula they have been supposedly studying for the past umpatty years, just up and disappeared.” she wondered.


* * * * * * * * *

Like spawning salmon, swimming up stream, Tyr headed straight for his quad. As his Nietzschean ancestors before him who returned home from conflict, Tyr expected to be received with open arms by his wives. Imagine his surprise and consternation when he discovered the doors to his quad locked! In fact he was so used to the doors opening, that he literally crashed into them, bonking his nose.

“OUCH!” he thought as he rubbed his nose. Angered, Tyr tried his code several times, to no avail. Growing angrier by the second, Tyr ripped the code panel covering off the bulkhead, sending a shower of sparks flying. Tyr reached into the control panel and diddled and piddled with the circuitry, but that was also to no avail. No matter what he did, the doors stayed closed. Next, he resorted to ringing the bell. Not one or two times, but he leaned on the buzzer for a full five minutes straight.

“I know they are in there, and they hear me!” he said under his breath, as he gave up ringing the buzzer and began to pound on the door. After a few more minutes of fruitless pounding, Tyr finally lost it, and went completely off the reservation. He stepped back, unslung his gauss rifle and strafed the doors! When all of the smoke and dust settled, the doors hung gapped open about ten inches apart. Tyr put his hands in the gap, grabbing one door with each hand and used his formidable Nietzschean strength to force the doors open, then charged in. Only he was met with resistance.

From none other than his third wife Amanda. Tyr ran into her like a defensive linebacker in an Old Earth football game. And she being as big as he is, knocked him flat on his butt!

“GET! OUT!” she said, as she swung at him with what looked like a riding crop. Tyr scrambled out of the way and wound up getting a couple of licks on his backside for his troubles. He hated to admit it, but the blows brought tears to his eyes. It certainly felt like a riding crop . . . . . . .

“GET OUT! AND STAY OUT!” Amanda said. She didn't have to shout, because she had one of those voices which carried, and demanded attention. It was no wonder folks still called her “The Admiral” even though she was no longer one.

Safely outside, Tyr took his time, picked up his discarded weapon and sauntered away as if he hadn't a care in the universe. All while Amanda's Cleopatra eyes glowered at him from the now permanently destroyed doors to their quad.


* * * * * * * * * *

Five minutes later, Tyr arrived in his darkened office and found Khan sitting behind his desk and in his chair. The only light being the stars shining through the clear steel portal behind his desk.

“If you had only listened to me, and apologized when I told you to, you would not be in such a fix now, Tyr.” Khan said softly.

“Khan, my Pride Brother. I am tired, I am hungry, I stink of battle, and I am in no mood to play Chinga.” Tyr said tiredly. He was speaking of the debating game Katay were so fond of playing.

“I understand and will stand watch. Oh and, I forgot to warn about that riding crop Amanda tends to favor. . . . . .” Khan said, as he pulled his whiskers back with mirth in the darkness.

“Fat lot of good that does, telling me now that I have stripes on my hide like you.” Tyr replied, and chuckled despite his tiredness.

“Unlike mine, yours will fade away.” Khan replied.

“Night Khan.” Tyr said

“Blessed be.” was Khan's whispered reply.


* * * * * * * *

Tyr entered a door on the left side of his office. This was his official “crash pad”. Tiny efficiency quarters for those times when when he had to “sleep at the office”. He entered the bedroom, unslung his rifle and and placed it on his dresser.

Divesting himself of clothing as he walked, he headed for the shower. Once inside, he decided that he would use his entire monthly water allotment and take a water shower. He spent the next five minutes scrubbing himself down with his favorite handmade sage soap. He was careful to avoid his newly acquired welts because they stung like the dickens.

Freshly bathed and lotioned, Tyr flung himself across the narrow bunk, covered up, and was instantly asleep.