Breakfast was a complete travesty. Fatou put on her best disapproving face and scowled at Tyr. The Nietzschean was usually a hearty eater, but he picked and minced through his food like a spoiled toddler. Smelling and tasting this or that, grimacing, and spitting things out. Finally, Fatou lost it.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Fatou demanded, in an authoritative voice.
“Probably the very same tone she uses on her kits.” Tyr thought and sighed.
“Forgive me, Fatou, but everything tastes strange. I cannot properly describe it.” Tyr replied and frowned.
“Whether it tastes strange or not, you must keep up your strength and energy level. You will just have to ignore your taste buds for the sake of nourishment.” Fatou said. Tyr reluctantly agreed and forced himself to consume the rest of his meal.
Exasperated, Fatou rolled her eyes and silently prayed to the Divine for strength.
“It is indeed true, men never truly grow up. . . .” she sighed to her self.
“Perhaps you should stop by Sickbay and let Doctor Kori have a look at you.” Fatou suggested, and waited for the blow back. Tyr merely gazed at her as if she'd asked him to submit his own neck to the guillotine.
“After all, Doctor Kori. did say even if you had minor issues, you should stop and see her. Just to be safe.” Fatou continued. All she received in return was a grunt.
“Whiskers and fur! Is he always this stubborn?” Fatou wondered.
“Now, this I really like.” Tyr said, after he'd taken a healthy gulp of Raktigino from his favorite mug, and held it up in a mock toast. Indeed, it was the only food item that didn't taste strange or nasty.
“At least he is smiling. Now, what did Khan tell me about that. . . . .” Fatou wondered to herself.
“Since you are feeling better, do you have anything special slated for this morning?” she asked.
“I wish to review the troops.” Tyr said, as he stood. As if clairvoyant, Gynn slipped in, collected the dishes and silverware, then hurried out.
“Oh no! The dreaded Scare The Hell Out Of The Crew Tour!” Fatou thought. Khan HAD warned her about those. . . . .
“The strength of the wolf is the pack, and the strength of the pack is the wolf.” Tyr quoted in response to Fatou's questing gaze.
“Rudyard Kippling, Tyr?” Fatou asked. She had recognized it from one of the authors books.
“Now which publication was that in?” she wondered silently and frowned. For she'd also heard that same phrase uttered in connection with another race in the past.
“You do realize that quote speaks of interdependence. The wolf needs the pack as much as the pack needs to wolf. In other words, no man is an island.” Fatou said.
“The Bible, Fatou?” Tyr asked. Gazing at the female Katay Tigeress with both eyebrows raised.
“My people are a spiritual race who believe in the same Creator.” Fatou replied.
“Whether the word came from a child's rhyme or not, I've found them to be the most appropriate for this place and time.” Tyr started. “I've been dealt an egregious blow but my crew needs to both see and know for themselves that I am still capable of functioning as their Commanding Officer.” Tyr continued with a determined gleam in his eyes.
“Your secret will be safe with me, Tyr. Yes, this will be an excellent way to put an end to all rumors.” Fatou said.
“Exactly.” Tyr replied as he headed towards the door. “And the sooner, the better.” he continued.
“Oh and bye the way, The Dolgarians also use the same motto, after all, they call their family units packs, like their brothers the wolves. . . .” Fatou added as she formed up behind Tyr and followed him out of the Lions Den.
“It appears that I am in good company . . . “ Tyr thought as entered the lift.
* * * * * * * *
The very first stop on Tyr's tour was. . . . .
“. . . . . .Engineering. Now, how did I know he was going to stop here? Perhaps it has something to do with his little brother being down here?” Fatou thought, as she followed The Rear Admiral into main Engineering module.
Upon seeing him, crew members scattered like mice who'd just seen a cat, leaving only five people visible. Harper and four of his subordinates were struggling with a large piece of equipment. Apparently they were trying to put it back where it came from after they had repaired it. But, it wouldn't fit.
“Let's take a fifteen minute breather, everyone.” Harper called out.
As a team they gently set the cumbersome piece of equipment down on the deck and all stepped away. Harper looked up and smiled at Tyr. Tyr in turn noted Harper had a smudge of grease on his nose.
“Where in the universe did you find grease in such a pristine environment?” Fatou asked. Clearly she was not used to Seamus Harper, the part time grease monkey.
“Oh that's from one of my side projects.” Harper replied as he swiped at it with his sleeve. He always wore coveralls when he worked, so he wouldn't mess up his uniform.
“Are you still restoring that 1970 Camero engine?” Tyr asked.
“Yep! I'm almost finished too.” Harper replied as his eyes and face lit up.
“Like a child's face at Yuletide.” Fatou thought as she pulled her whiskers back with mirth.
“Perhaps you should turn that around.” Tyr said, as he pointed to the equipment lying on the deck.
“Wha. . . .?” Harper asked, and frowned.
“Your technicians turned it upside down to fix it, forgot it was upside down and . . . . .” Tyr started.
“. . . . . . . and tried to put it back the wrong way. Ohhhhhh, that's why it didn't fit.” Fatou thought.
“Zounds! You wouldn't believe we've been at this since yesterday and all morning. . . . .” Harper replied as he gave himself a head pop.
That noted he called his people back. Tyr and Fatou watched as they worked together to upend the devise, then slipped it back into place. The formally deadened panel immediately lit up and hummed to life.
“And we have lift off!” Harper proclaimed, as they briefly celebrated with hi-fives.
“You look good, Sir.” Harper said as he smiled up at Tyr. Aside from Tyr's lack of bonelades, he didn't see a thing wrong with his Big Brother.
“Thank you.” Tyr replied.
“No. Thank you. If it wasn't for you figuring this thing out, we would've still been banging our heads against the bulkheads.” Harper said.
“Wasn't it you who told me that I must learn to take a break from things more often?” Tyr asked.
“Yeah. Guilty as charged.” Harper replied.
“How is Monique?”
“She's as happy as can be. I'm surprised she's not floating around here somewhere.” Harper replied as he smiled. She'd told him she was expecting last night.
“Possibly another reason why he couldn't concentrate properly on work. . . . “ Fatou thought, and pulled her whiskers back.
“Don't forget to tell her, I am having a pot luck dinner at our quad tonight, and at the usual time.” Tyr said, as he stepped away.
“Goody. I know just what to bring.” Harper replied, to Tyr's and Fatou's backs.
“It better not have engine grease in it. . . . .” Tyr groused.
“Don't worry, I'll get Monique to cook it.” Seamus shouted before the doors closed.
“I see you've decided to take my suggestion and invite Ms Culpepper to dinner.” Fatou said as they got on the lift.
“I have not given her the invitation yet. Plus, I haven't made any pies.” Tyr replied.
“Pies. . . . . why would you. . . . . other than dessert. . . .” Fatou started, as she suddenly remembered something from an Old Earth slap-stick comedy named “The Three Stooges.”
“Stop Lift!” she ordered, and the lift halted. “Tyr don't you dare throw pies at Ms Culppeper! Are you out of your mind?” she asked.
“I wasn't exactly going to throw them at her.” Tyr replied innocently.
“Well how were you going to make your assault? Levitation?” Fatou asked.
“I was considering a catapult.” Tyr replied as he shrugged his shoulders, while looking oh so innocent.
“A catapult!” Fatou exclaimed.
“A slingshot would be too small. I would have to use tarts and I will need too many of them to be affective. . . .” Tyr continued. It was at that point Fatou realized she'd been had.
Both made doubly sure they were finished laughing before the lift resumed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Tyr's next stop was Hydroponics, and even though this was a surprise visit, Lieutenant JG Jessica Torres looked like she had been waiting for him to make his appearance.
Fatou had never been to this area of the ship and was free to wander from Tyrs side as they discussed StarFleet Business. The shear amount of fresh flowers, fruits and vegetables growing in the space was amazing.
She'd heard that ships which had Nietzscheans as the majority of the crew had one of these habitats. Why? Because they refused to eat replicated food. Of course they would do it in case of a dire emergency, but to live on it during a course of a three to twelve month mission? No way!
One of Jessica's subordinates, an Ensign Jerome Chang proudly showed Fatou around, while Tyr and Jessica talked. By the time she returned, Tyr and Jessica had sealed the deal.
“I have decided that Ms. Colpepper and her colleges will be assigned to Hydroponics for the duration of their stay. It was either here or the galley and I think Gynn would've slaughtered her after the first hour. . . . . .” Tyr stated.
“Very true, with Gynn being an Andorian, that would certainly be the case.” Fatou thought.
It stood to reason as both the Galley and Hydroponics were the two least secure spaces on the Insurrection. Sickbay was another to a certain extent. However, The Dragoness Kori, was not going to allow anyone body to step up into her lair. Yes, the INN correspondent was safer a lot in Hydroponics.
“After all, how many secure Starfleet secrets would Ms. Culpepper learn from misting roses and tying up tomato plants?” Fatou thought.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr's next stop was Cartography. Immediately upon seeing them, Dr. Svetlana Sorrenson disengaged herself from her intense and strident conversation with Kesha and seven other members of her staff.
“It's good to see you up and around, Admiral.” Svetlana said in her Russian accented Standard.
“Thank you, Doctor. It is good to be up and around.” Tyr replied. Fatou knew he was referring to the fact that he was no longer confined to Sickbay. . . . .
“Come, Sir. We have things to show you.” Svetlana said and beckoned.
“Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like what I'm going to see? My goose is really cooked if she offers me a Raktigino . . . . . .” Tyr thought.
“Sir, would you like a cup of Raktigino before we start?” Svetlana asked. Tyr turned and gazed at Fatou, who pulled her whiskers back with mirth.
“I guess this is going to be a long morning.” Tyr replied.
“It's going to get even longer once he hears what she has to tell him.” Fatou thought, as they all sat behind a large meeting table, and an Ensign dimmed the lights. The presentation screen lit up, and the meeting began.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Fatou fears were correct. By the time the meeting finished a bout an hour and a half later Tyr was in a foul torpor. Fatou detected that everyone was terrified that he would blow his stack, except for Svetlana, Kesha and her, of course.
Tyr politely excused himself and left the Dr. Sorrenson and her staff to argue over what quadrant they were in at present. He frankly didn't give a damn because they were not in his home sector, and because of Q, they were unable to return anytime soon.
Tyr abruptly canceled the rest of his tour, and headed straight for the gym. He needed to blow off some steam or he would destroy something.
* * * * * * * * *
Tyr had just finished his first “modified” workout with Gilgamesh. It was exactly as Kori had warned, he was forced to half the amount of weight he was used to lifting and he was closely monitored by his cousin.
Gilgamesh made sure Tyr wore a weight belt when he did his, squats, dead lifts and cleans. He also made sure Tyr wore gloves on his hands to prevent cuts and abrasions. But when he finally finished his first Human workout, it wasn't his hands that worried him, it was Tyr's entire body. He was sore from head to foot.
“Go sit in the whirlpool for a few minutes.” Gilgamesh suggested. For all of the countless times Tyr worked out, he never had to use the whirlpool, but he took advantage of it now.
”Now I know how the lobster feels while he boiling in the pot.” Tyr thought glumly as he waited out the prescribed fifteen minutes.
A half an hour later, he was back in his quarters, stretched out on his sofa and drifting off to sleep when the Ping Sisters showed up. They were toting his sleepy sons and were about to put them down for their naps. They immediately added dad to the mix.
“You okay?” Hoy Li asked, as she watched Tyr ease himself off the sofa and walk stiffly towards his bedroom.
“I'm just peachy keen.” Tyr replied. He'd never been so sore in his life. “Latic acid builds up in the muscles which in turn causes pain.” he thought to himself.
“Where hurt?” Hoy Li asked, in her Chinese Accented Standard.
That was another glaring difference between the twins. Hoy spoke with pronounced accent ( Tyr swore she did this on purpose . . . . ) while Li spoke in perfect textbook Vulcan-like Standard.
“Everywhere. I think my toenails and hair follicles are screaming too.” Tyr groused as he gingerly sat on his bed.
“Silly man. What you not do? You warm up?” She asked.
“Yes.” Tyr replied, remembering the cardio paces Gilgamesh put him through, while Fatou ran flat out on all fours on a specially designed treadmill.
“Not too much weight?” She asked.
“No. Not too much.”
“Too many reps?”
“We kept it light.”
“You cool down?
“Yes.”
“You stretch?”
“Yes. I even soaked in that stupid whirlpool.” Tyr replied.
“Then what missing? Ah! Massage! You need massage! I get! ” she said, as she got up and scampered away.
She was back with a tiny jar, untwisting the cap as she sat. For the next fifteen minutes she rubbed Tyr down. The Nietzschean wrinkled his nose at the smell. The stuff smelled like horse lineament
“Sorry about smell. I use scentless kind next time.” Hoy promised.
The stuff may have smelled bad, but his sore body and muscles couldn't care less. He submitted to Hoy Li's ministrations and drifted off to sleep.
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