In the Great Hall of the Q, one hundred Q stood at parade rest in front of Janeway Q, and waited, waited, and waited. No one dared say a word for they all knew their leader was ticked.
“Two weeks, three days, twenty-three hours and seventeen minutes after I gave the order to find, capture and return Q to me, and you still haven't found him?” she asked calmly.
The leader of this particular group chose to step forth and speak. Contrary to popular thought and belief, the Q were not exclusively Human. This one was a stern looking Vulcan who strongly resembled Spock's father, Sarek.
“We have initiated a multi-verse search grid which was partially successful in only discovering where he had been.” he replied.
“Oh? Where?” she asked, patiently.
“He made multiple trips to Pinnacle and Deep Space Ten.” he replied.
“Pinnacle. That is the main Nietzschean home world, isn't it?” she asked.
“Yes it is the official seat of Nietzschean government.” he replied.
Though the Nietzscheans inhabited many planets and world ships, if Teddy Roosevelt were a Nietzschean, he would've said of Pinnacle “The buck stops here.”
“So what recent and significant event would've happened on Pinnacle to attract Q's attention?” she wondered aloud. Not that she didn't already know. For Q was unfortunately attracted to certain important events like a crow was to shiny objects.
“The death of Viceroy Barbarossa Anasazi. It was made significant by the fact that in totally breaking with Nietzschean tradition, Barbarossa chose to pass his crown to his youngest son, Tyr instead of his oldest son, Agamemnon.” The Vulcan Q replied.
“BINGO!” she thought.
“Viceroy Tyr Anasazi also happens to be a highly decorated Star Fleet officer, is he not?” she asked.
“Affirmative, Q." the Vulcan Q replied.
“So Tyr Anasazi is either blessed or cursed with being both. Q enjoys sticking his foot out and tripping people like him.” she replied and stood. “We are going to Deep Space Ten.” she said in answer to the questioning looks on everyone's face.
“We?” the Vulcan Q queried, as he raised his right eyebrow in a typical Vulcan manner.
“My father always said, if you want something done right, you must either do it your self, or personally supervise the task . . . . . .” she replied, as she and all 100 Q blinked out of existence.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile Captain Dylan Hunt was having an in-depth conversation with Captain Sherra of the Dolgarian ship Sojourner. Currently Dylan was in a quandary because he was both extremely tired and did not know which end was up Sherra.
The Dolgarian Captain was a black Human sized Pule, who had long black dreadlocks hanging over her face and eyes. The only hint he was talking to her face, was her moving snout and the occasional flash of her white canine teeth, and pink tongue.
“I can't believe I'm talking to a giant dog who is has dreadlocks like Tyr. First, human sized talking cats, now this. What's next? Talking elephants? If I run into any of those, I'm handing in my papers. . . .” Dylan thought wearily to himself, as he barely suppressed a yawn. He thought had done a good job of covering it up, but. . . .
“Captain Hunt. When was the last time you slept?” Sherra asked.
“Ops!” Dylan thought.
“Uh . . . . .Uh. . . . . . Forgive me. . . .” Dylan fumbled.
“I understand the Rear Admiral is a very close and dear friend, however, you must rest, or you will not be of much use to anyone. Not to yourself or even The Admiral should find him. Take some down time, Captain and Divine willing we will speak tomorrow.” She admonished. Dylan blinked because he swore he saw one of her alert brown eyes gazing back at him in the video pickup.
“Alright Captain, we will continue this conversation tomorrow at this time.” Dylan replied.
“1300 hours. Aye.” Sherra replied as she signed off. Dylan immediately called Rommie into his Ready Room. The second she saw him, she ordered him off the bridge and to his quarters to rest.
“Hey, you can't do that! You're my XO!” Dylan protested.
“I can if I see that you are unfit for duty. Which is a lot better than what Trance would do. She'd haul you down to Sickbay and give you a sedative.” Rommie replied. “Captain, go get some sleep, I'll take care of things here. Remember, androids don't require sleep.” she continued.
With that Dylan left the bridge and headed to his quarters. Once there he only had enough strength to remove his boots before he stretched out on his bed and fell asleep fully clothed in his uniform.
* * * * * * * *
Back on Deep Space Ten, the Janeway Q and the rest of her compatriots showed up on the station in a random manner. Some were disguised as merchants, others as crew, still others as tourists.
However, she personally decided to disguise herself as a ten year old girl. Nancy Cox was a child genius who'd won The Intergalactic Tesla Award for inventing some scientific thing of a bob. One of her prizes was an all expense paid trip to and a tour of Deep Space Ten.
“Why a child?” the Vulcan Q had queried.
“No one fears a child because for the most part, they are innocent, and because of that, people tell children everything.” she replied, and smiled. “I wager after speaking to a few key people I will be able to track down Q faster than your entire team.” she challenged.
“But, Q we have been using these methods for the past hundred eons.” the Vulcan Q replied.
“Perhaps your methods of investigation need a serious update.” she said. “That is precisely why Q was able to spring the trap without being caught by the noose.” she continued.
The Vulcan Q did not bother to reply. Janeway knew he was displeased, but she couldn't help that. Obviously Q was not an amateur, but neither was she. . . . . .
“First things first. We go to meet Fleet Admiral HaxHis. I never met a Katay before but I've heard a lot about them.” Janeway said, as she skipped along side the tall, austere Vulcan male as they made their way across the Upper Promenade to the bank of lifts.
* * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, Tyr and Tamara were spending quality “cuddle” time with each other. They had just gotten comfortable when
SQUEAK!
“What was that?” Tamara asked as they both jumped nearly a mile high off the bed like scalded cats.
“I don't know.” Tyr replied, as he grabbed the end of the duvet and shook it out, expecting to find one of his sons squeak toys in it. He then unsuccessfully searched the bed itself, to no avail.
“False alarm.” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and got back into bed. Tamara followed him and curled up into his arms. Back to business at hand. . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Both Nietzschean and Vulcan started again and stared at one another.
“It's you.” Tamara accused.
“Me? How the. . . . .” Tyr asked. In reply Tamara pressed the tip of his nose with her right forefinger and . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Tamara put both hands over her mouth as her green eyes became as wide as saucers. The look on Tyr's face was of utter stupefaction, then the realization dawned.
“Tamara. Do not laugh!” Tyr commanded.
“Your nose squeaks like a clowns nose and you expect me not to laugh?” Tamara thought through their marital link. She didn't exactly trust herself to speak at this particular time. . . . . . .
“I will beat you from port to starboard if you laugh.” Tyr threatened.
“Tyr Anazasi! I thought Nietzschean men did not beat their wives!” Tamara thought. Despite her best intentions she chuckled. She pulled away as he reached for her, and dashed across the room.
“There are always exceptions to that rule. . . .” Tyr replied and the chase was on.
* * * * * * *
In the meantime, Q was on the floor of the multi-verse rolling with hysterical laughter.
“You should've seen the look on your face when she pressed your nose, Mr. Neitzschean! What a hoot! I haven't had so much fun in ages!” Q said, as he applauded.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“I'd love to give him one up side the head.” Fatou thought sourly, as she stared up at the ceiling, through the many decks of The Insurrection, out into space at the exact spot where Q was hiding.
Q sensed Fatou's disapproving gaze. He looked back, gave her a raspberry, stuck his thumbs in his ears and twittled his fingers.
“Divine preserve us! Q is but a big child and Tyr is just his personal plaything!” Fatou thought in distress.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The mood was clearly broken so now the two love birds lay entwined in each other's arms. They'd both figured out, if they didn't touch Tyr's nose, they wouldn't have any problems.
“You do know that you have to go to Sickbay, right?” Tamara asked.
“I most certainly will not.” Tyr replied.
“Tyr!” Tamara exclaimed.
“And exactly what am I going to tell the Good Lady Doctor? That my nose squeaks like a child's toy? What remedy can she possibly recommend? I know no other except to find that low down filthy scum of a Q, who caused this mess in the first place and crush him like a rodent!” Tyr said. “I tell you what she's going to do. She's going to laugh her rear end off, just like the rest of the crew will do when they find out.” Tyr continued.
“I'm pretty sure she's not going to laugh at you, Tyr.” Tamara replied. At least she hoped and prayed Kori didn't. Klingons had the tendency to be unpredictable. . . . .
“That remains to be seen.” Tyr groused.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“This is so embarrassing.” Tyr thought to himself, and rolled his expressive brown eyes toward the ceiling. “I should've not only bet money Kori was going to laugh, but extra because she is howling too.” Tyr continued to think somberly.
You see, Klingons unlike Humans did not twitter, chuckle, chortle, or giggle. They roared with mirth, and since Kori was a typical Klingon she let it all hang out. Tamara wondered if the woman was going to howl at the moon next.
“So, what do you recommend?” Tyr asked as Dr. Kori calmed down.
“I have no recommendations except to not touch your nose.” Kori replied.
“Not touch my nose! That is impossible! I have to wash my face and blow it . . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Now you must find somewhere private if you need to do that. Oh and by the way, watch out for your sons. Once they find out your nose squeaks like that, they will never let you rest. Plus if the entire crew will find out. . . . .” she said, as she shook her head.
“And I will be the laughing stock of Starfleet. . . .” Tyr groused as he thought of Alexander's little reaching arms and grabby hands. Lysander was equally precocious. Kori was right, there was no rest for the weary.
“Thanks a lot Q! When I get my hands on you, you'll be deader than Elvis.” Tyr thought fiercely.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh my! I don't like that look on your face Mr. Nietzschean. Should I be afraid? Should I cringe in abject terror or should I laugh my butt off? I chose the latter! Oh, this is soooooo much fun!” Q said, as he dry washed his hands with glee, just like a mad scientist.
* * * * * * * * * *
Fatou narrowed her amber eyes. She was having her own private thoughts on what to do about Q, and they were not civil.
* * * * * * * * * *
Janeway Q had in the guise of Nancy Cox had just completed her tour with none other than the Station Commander, Fleet Admiral HaxHis. She and her compatriot Q were now all gathered in a safe corner of the multi-verse.
“Here is what I found out. Three and a half weeks ago, Admiral Anasazi was scheduled to lead a convoy of 12 relief ships to Avon Six. However, at the last second they were diverted due a distress signal which came from the Antares sector. They went to assist with Tyr's ship in the lead, however, The Insurrection and her crew simply disappeared.” she reported.
The other Q looked at one another with quizzical expressions. The unspoken question was "How the heck did she find all of that out?" Even though they were Q, there were some limits to what they could do especially when pitted against one of their own who had gone rogue. He was obviously using his limitless power to hide from them.
“HaxHis had the padd with the report on her desk, and I just happen to know how to read upside down.” Janeway replied, with a smile.
* * * * * * * * * *
There was no problem getting to the Antares sector, in fact it was a piece of cake. However, finding where Q had secreted himself was another story. At Janeway Q's orders the Q fanned out in pairs into as many directions as possible to begin an intense search.
* * * * * * * * * *
Q was in the middle of being up to no good as usual, when he froze in mid action.
“Oh shhhhhhhhhhhhh...............” he said. “I thought I put up enough shielding to protect and hide me from them!” he continued. He waved his right hand in Tyr's direction.
“I'll be back.” Q promised impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger's “Terminator” charactor, then blinked out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Seconds later Fatou was heading towards the Bridge in a professional panic.
When the lift opened Tyr was sitting in the Central Seat reading and signing padds. He looked up, saw Fatou, and she gave him the signal that she wanted to speak to him and Captain McPhearson in private.
Once they were all situated, Tyr standing in his favorite place in front of the window, Tamara standing at parade rest, in front of Tyr's desk. Fatou spoke.
“I don't sense Q anymore.” she said simply.
“Oh? Why didn't you tell me you were capable of sensing him?” Tyr asked, raising both eyebrows in surprise.
“I didn't tell you because I considered my sensing his presence to be unreliable. I can only sense him when he uses his powers and I didn't want you to hang your hat on that, so to speak.” Fatou explained.
“Does this mean we will be able to go home?” Tyr asked.
“No, unfortunately it does not.” Fatou replied.
“Why not?” Tamara asked.
“Because I distinctly heard him say that he would be back. Then he blinked out.” Fatou replied. She tactfully left out Q's Arnold Swartzinagger impersonation. . . . . . .
“What cause him to leave in such a hurry?” Tyr wondered out loud.
“There are others here, now.” Fatou replied.
“Others? You mean other Q?” Tyr asked
“The Q Continuum consists of possibly hundreds of their kind. The majority of which are peaceful, co-exist with us, and occasionally help us out.” Tamara replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the one we encountered." she continued.
“So, they obviously are hunting for their rogue compatriot.” Tyr stated.
“I guess in the meantime we have to cool our nacelles until they either find him or set things straight.” Tamara said. Referring to being released from the "bubble" Q had trapped The Insurrection and her crew in.
“Or rather until they find him and MAKE him set things straight. Divine only knows, he may have set things into motion which only he can undo.” Fatou said sagely. The small hairs on Tyr's neck stood on end. That was not a good sign.
“You mean I'm stuck with this for the duration?” Tyr asked as he touched his nose, expecting to hear a resounding squeak. But, there was only silence.
“Stuck with what?” Fatou asked innocently.
“Never mind.” Tyr covered. “In the meantime I must have a meeting with the Quartermaster and Lieutenant Torres of Hydrophonics. I don't know how long we will be stuck here and if necessary I may have to institute rationing of resources and provisions to the crew.” Tyr continued.
The Insurrection was an Akira class Star Ship and not considered a long range vessel like the old Constitution or the updated Enterprise class. So, if Tyr instituted the “Voyager Protocols (made standard practice by Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Voyager while in the Alpha Quadrant) his crew and family would be able to survive a long term mission if need be.
“The first order of the day is to reduce power to all non-essential areas.” Tyr said to Tamara. “Other orders will be forthcoming after my meetings have been concluded. Dismissed.” Tyr continued in command mode.
“Aye, sir.” Tamara responded, executed a textbook military right and left. Leaving Tyr and Fatou alone.
“Now, what was that about the possibility of Q setting something in motion only HE can undo?” Tyr asked of Fatou.
“I said what I meant, and I meant what I said.” she replied succinctly, leaving no doubt in the Nietzschean Admiral's mind.
Fatou's Spanish was rusty, but she was positive Tyr's response was nothing but swear words in that particular language. . . . . . .
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, in the 88 Lounge (The Insurrection's Mess Hall), Melissa and Dragon were sitting together at a private table. They had agreed to coordinate their meal breaks to meet, chat and chew.
Dragon was outfitted in his modified version of a Starfleet Security uniform. Melissa was dressed in Starfleet Hydroponics coveralls. He had taken liberty of ordering food and drink for both himself and Melissa.
“How is your Chai?” Dragon asked, as he watched her hesitantly sip from a steaming cup.
“It's positively delicious!” Melissa proclaimed and smiled, after taking her first ever sip and taste.
“I'm surprised you've never had Chai before. After all you've traveled so far and wide. . . . .” Dragon said.
“Dragon, you wouldn't believe the stories I have of people trying to poison me. That's why I have my team along.” Melissa replied.
The life of an intergalactic news correspondent was not all it was cracked up to be. When dealing with shady characters, one did not eat what they offered you, no matter how hungry you were, or how tasty it looked. T'Kell always brought along a supply of meal bars and water pacs just in case. . . .
Dragon glanced off for a second and espied the Vulcan couple on the far side of the room engaged in lively discussion with several officers from Cartography. He was not fooled by that rouse one bit. They were attuned as to his every move as he was of theirs.
“What kind of sandwich is this?” she asked, as she gazed at hers then watched Dragon pick up his.
“It is a CLT. Cheese, lettuce and tomato on toasted multi grain bread, with a hint of mayonnaise.” he replied.
“No bacon?” she asked. .
“Yuck. Bacon contains far too much nitrates and fat.” Dragon replied. She'd forgotten that Nietzscheans were consummate health nuts and were extremely picky about what they ate.
“You should eat yours before it gets cold.” he admonished. Melissa took a bite and agreed it didn't taste bad.
“Okay, here comes the five thousand bars of gold plated latinum question. Why is your name Dragon?” Melissa asked. They had both finished their meal and the dishes had been removed by a steward. Dragon smiled shyly, dropped his head and sighed. Melissa was immediately sorry she'd asked.
“There was a slight error when my parents filed my official birth documents with The Hall of Records. My father had named me Dragoon, but somewhere along the line an “o” was omitted. The error was not discovered until I entered primary school. My father was furious and could have changed it back, but my mother loved the name Dragon. Since we Nietzscheans have a Matriarchal society and whatever the lady of the house says, goes, thus Dragon it stayed.” Dragon explained.
“Dragoon?? That's either a light infantry or a pirate ship isn't it?” Melissa asked.
“My father is an ardent fan of old Earth military history, and that's how he chose my name. It is a light infantry, where the soldiers originally rode horseback and carried light weaponry so they could move quickly.” he replied.
“So, how do you feel about your name now?” she asked, in full interview mode though she didn't intend for it to be so.
“I have no problem with it because I've been told on numerous occasions that I am as fierce as my namesake.” Dragon replied and smiled.
At that particular time, Dragon didn't look fierce. However, the man was second in command of Security on Tyr Anazasi's ship. That alone was no mean feat.
“So I'd say you were appropriately named.” Melissa replied.
“Yes, my father knows that now.” Dragon said as he smiled.
Melissa had so many other questions to ask but realized their meal break was almost over.
“Would you like to share dinner with me later?” Dragon asked. “That way you can ask all of the questions you want and I can ask some of my own.” he continued.
“I don't see why not.” she replied.
“How about back here at 1900 hours?” he asked.
“Excellent. I'll be here.” Melissa said as she rose to go. She didn't have to look for T'Kell and Skorr, because they were already approaching.
She waved as she left the 88 Lounge, and it was back to work for her.
“Ah! Isn't it great when love is in the air?” Ensign Palmer asked her fellow crew member Ensign Chee as they bussed The 88 Lounge's tables.
“Yeah. Those two will not be able to keep their minds on work for the rest of the afternoon and evening.” Chee replied.
“Oh the horror of it all!” Palmer replied as she playfully poked her friend in the ribs.
Showing posts with label Tyr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tyr. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Free Enterprise - Connections #126
Free Enterprise - Connections #126
In the Great Hall of the Q, one hundred Q stood at parade rest in front of Janeway Q, and waited, waited, and waited. No one dared say a word for they all knew their leader was ticked.
“Two weeks, three days, twenty-three hours and seventeen minutes after I gave the order to find, capture and return Q to me, and you still haven't found him?” she asked calmly.
The leader of this particular group chose to step forth and speak. Contrary to popular thought and belief, the Q were not exclusively Human. This one was a stern looking Vulcan who strongly resembled Spock's father, Sarek.
“We have initiated a multi-verse search grid which was partially successful in only discovering where he had been.” he replied.
“Oh? Where?” she asked, patiently.
“He made multiple trips to Pinnacle and Deep Space Ten.” he replied.
“Pinnacle. That is the main Nietzschean home world, isn't it?” she asked.
“Yes it is the official seat of Nietzschean government.” he replied.
Though the Nietzscheans inhabited many planets and world ships, if Teddy Roosevelt were a Nietzschean, he would've said of Pinnacle “The buck stops here.”
“So what recent and significant event would've happened on Pinnacle to attract Q's attention?” she wondered aloud. Not that she didn't already know. For Q was unfortunately attracted to certain important events like a crow was to shiny objects.
“The death of Viceroy Barbarossa Anasazi. It was made significant by the fact that in totally breaking with Nietzschean tradition, Barbarossa chose to pass his crown to his youngest son, Tyr instead of his oldest son, Agamemnon.” The Vulcan Q replied.
“BINGO!” she thought.
“Viceroy Tyr Anasazi also happens to be a highly decorated Star Fleet officer, is he not?” she asked.
“Affirmative, Q." the Vulcan Q replied.
“So Tyr Anasazi is either blessed or cursed with being both. Q enjoys sticking his foot out and tripping people like him.” she replied and stood. “We are going to Deep Space Ten.” she said in answer to the questioning looks on everyone's face.
“We?” the Vulcan Q queried, as he raised his right eyebrow in a typical Vulcan manner.
“My father always said, if you want something done right, you must either do it your self, or personally supervise the task . . . . . .” she replied, as she and all 100 Q blinked out of existence.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile Captain Dylan Hunt was having an in-depth conversation with Captain Sherra of the Dolgarian ship Sojourner. Currently Dylan was in a quandary because he was both extremely tired and did not know which end was up Sherra.
The Dolgarian Captain was a black Human sized Pule, who had long black dreadlocks hanging over her face and eyes. The only hint he was talking to her face, was her moving snout and the occasional flash of her white canine teeth, and pink tongue.
“I can't believe I'm talking to a giant dog who is has dreadlocks like Tyr. First, human sized talking cats, now this. What's next? Talking elephants? If I run into any of those, I'm handing in my papers. . . .” Dylan thought wearily to himself, as he barely suppressed a yawn. He thought had done a good job of covering it up, but. . . .
“Captain Hunt. When was the last time you slept?” Sherra asked.
“Ops!” Dylan thought.
“Uh . . . . .Uh. . . . . . Forgive me. . . .” Dylan fumbled.
“I understand the Rear Admiral is a very close and dear friend, however, you must rest, or you will not be of much use to anyone. Not to yourself or even The Admiral should find him. Take some down time, Captain and Divine willing we will speak tomorrow.” She admonished. Dylan blinked because he swore he saw one of her alert brown eyes gazing back at him in the video pickup.
“Alright Captain, we will continue this conversation tomorrow at this time.” Dylan replied.
“1300 hours. Aye.” Sherra replied as she signed off. Dylan immediately called Rommie into his Ready Room. The second she saw him, she ordered him off the bridge and to his quarters to rest.
“Hey, you can't do that! You're my XO!” Dylan protested.
“I can if I see that you are unfit for duty. Which is a lot better than what Trance would do. She'd haul you down to Sickbay and give you a sedative.” Rommie replied. “Captain, go get some sleep, I'll take care of things here. Remember, androids don't require sleep.” she continued.
With that Dylan left the bridge and headed to his quarters. Once there he only had enough strength to remove his boots before he stretched out on his bed and fell asleep fully clothed in his uniform.
* * * * * * * *
Back on Deep Space Ten, the Janeway Q and the rest of her compatriots showed up on the station in a random manner. Some were disguised as merchants, others as crew, still others as tourists.
However, she personally decided to disguise herself as a ten year old girl. Nancy Cox was a child genius who'd won The Intergalactic Tesla Award for inventing some scientific thing of a bob. One of her prizes was an all expense paid trip to and a tour of Deep Space Ten.
“Why a child?” the Vulcan Q had queried.
“No one fears a child because for the most part, they are innocent, and because of that, people tell children everything.” she replied, and smiled. “I wager after speaking to a few key people I will be able to track down Q faster than your entire team.” she challenged.
“But, Q we have been using these methods for the past hundred eons.” the Vulcan Q replied.
“Perhaps your methods of investigation need a serious update.” she said. “That is precisely why Q was able to spring the trap without being caught by the noose.” she continued.
The Vulcan Q did not bother to reply. Janeway knew he was displeased, but she couldn't help that. Obviously Q was not an amateur, but neither was she. . . . . .
“First things first. We go to meet Fleet Admiral HaxHis. I never met a Katay before but I've heard a lot about them.” Janeway said, as she skipped along side the tall, austere Vulcan male as they made their way across the Upper Promenade to the bank of lifts.
* * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, Tyr and Tamara were spending quality “cuddle” time with each other. They had just gotten comfortable when
SQUEAK!
“What was that?” Tamara asked as they both jumped nearly a mile high off the bed like scalded cats.
“I don't know.” Tyr replied, as he grabbed the end of the duvet and shook it out, expecting to find one of his sons squeak toys in it. He then unsuccessfully searched the bed itself, to no avail.
“False alarm.” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and got back into bed. Tamara followed him and curled up into his arms. Back to business at hand. . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Both Nietzschean and Vulcan started again and stared at one another.
“It's you.” Tamara accused.
“Me? How the. . . . .” Tyr asked. In reply Tamara pressed the tip of his nose with her right forefinger and . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Tamara put both hands over her mouth as her green eyes became as wide as saucers. The look on Tyr's face was of utter stupefaction, then the realization dawned.
“Tamara. Do not laugh!” Tyr commanded.
“Your nose squeaks like a clowns nose and you expect me not to laugh?” Tamara thought through their marital link. She didn't exactly trust herself to speak at this particular time. . . . . . .
“I will beat you from port to starboard if you laugh.” Tyr threatened.
“Tyr Anazasi! I thought Nietzschean men did not beat their wives!” Tamara thought. Despite her best intentions she chuckled. She pulled away as he reached for her, and dashed across the room.
“There are always exceptions to that rule. . . .” Tyr replied and the chase was on.
* * * * * * *
In the meantime, Q was on the floor of the multi-verse rolling with hysterical laughter.
“You should've seen the look on your face when she pressed your nose, Mr. Neitzschean! What a hoot! I haven't had so much fun in ages!” Q said, as he applauded.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“I'd love to give him one up side the head.” Fatou thought sourly, as she stared up at the ceiling, through the many decks of The Insurrection, out into space at the exact spot where Q was hiding.
Q sensed Fatou's disapproving gaze. He looked back, gave her a raspberry, stuck his thumbs in his ears and twittled his fingers.
“Divine preserve us! Q is but a big child and Tyr is just his personal plaything!” Fatou thought in distress.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The mood was clearly broken so now the two love birds lay entwined in each other's arms. They'd both figured out, if they didn't touch Tyr's nose, they wouldn't have any problems.
“You do know that you have to go to Sickbay, right?” Tamara asked.
“I most certainly will not.” Tyr replied.
“Tyr!” Tamara exclaimed.
“And exactly what am I going to tell the Good Lady Doctor? That my nose squeaks like a child's toy? What remedy can she possibly recommend? I know no other except to find that low down filthy scum of a Q, who caused this mess in the first place and crush him like a rodent!” Tyr said. “I tell you what she's going to do. She's going to laugh her rear end off, just like the rest of the crew will do when they find out.” Tyr continued.
“I'm pretty sure she's not going to laugh at you, Tyr.” Tamara replied. At least she hoped and prayed Kori didn't. Klingons had the tendency to be unpredictable. . . . .
“That remains to be seen.” Tyr groused.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“This is so embarrassing.” Tyr thought to himself, and rolled his expressive brown eyes toward the ceiling. “I should've not only bet money Kori was going to laugh, but extra because she is howling too.” Tyr continued to think somberly.
You see, Klingons unlike Humans did not twitter, chuckle, chortle, or giggle. They roared with mirth, and since Kori was a typical Klingon she let it all hang out. Tamara wondered if the woman was going to howl at the moon next.
“So, what do you recommend?” Tyr asked as Dr. Kori calmed down.
“I have no recommendations except to not touch your nose.” Kori replied.
“Not touch my nose! That is impossible! I have to wash my face and blow it . . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Now you must find somewhere private if you need to do that. Oh and by the way, watch out for your sons. Once they find out your nose squeaks like that, they will never let you rest. Plus if the entire crew will find out. . . . .” she said, as she shook her head.
“And I will be the laughing stock of Starfleet. . . .” Tyr groused as he thought of Alexander's little reaching arms and grabby hands. Lysander was equally precocious. Kori was right, there was no rest for the weary.
“Thanks a lot Q! When I get my hands on you, you'll be deader than Elvis.” Tyr thought fiercely.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh my! I don't like that look on your face Mr. Nietzschean. Should I be afraid? Should I cringe in abject terror or should I laugh my butt off? I chose the latter! Oh, this is soooooo much fun!” Q said, as he dry washed his hands with glee, just like a mad scientist.
* * * * * * * * * *
Fatou narrowed her amber eyes. She was having her own private thoughts on what to do about Q, and they were not civil.
* * * * * * * * * *
Janeway Q had in the guise of Nancy Cox had just completed her tour with none other than the Station Commander, Fleet Admiral HaxHis. She and her compatriot Q were now all gathered in a safe corner of the multi-verse.
“Here is what I found out. Three and a half weeks ago, Admiral Anasazi was scheduled to lead a convoy of 12 relief ships to Avon Six. However, at the last second they were diverted due a distress signal which came from the Antares sector. They went to assist with Tyr's ship in the lead, however, The Insurrection and her crew simply disappeared.” she reported.
The other Q looked at one another with quizzical expressions. The unspoken question was "How the heck did she find all of that out?" Even though they were Q, there were some limits to what they could do especially when pitted against one of their own who had gone rogue. He was obviously using his limitless power to hide from them.
“HaxHis had the padd with the report on her desk, and I just happen to know how to read upside down.” Janeway replied, with a smile.
* * * * * * * * * *
There was no problem getting to the Antares sector, in fact it was a piece of cake. However, finding where Q had secreted himself was another story. At Janeway Q's orders the Q fanned out in pairs into as many directions as possible to begin an intense search.
* * * * * * * * * *
Q was in the middle of being up to no good as usual, when he froze in mid action.
“Oh shhhhhhhhhhhhh...............” he said. “I thought I put up enough shielding to protect and hide me from them!” he continued. He waved his right hand in Tyr's direction.
“I'll be back.” Q promised impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger's “Terminator” charactor, then blinked out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Seconds later Fatou was heading towards the Bridge in a professional panic.
When the lift opened Tyr was sitting in the Central Seat reading and signing padds. He looked up, saw Fatou, and she gave him the signal that she wanted to speak to him and Captain McPhearson in private.
Once they were all situated, Tyr standing in his favorite place in front of the window, Tamara standing at parade rest, in front of Tyr's desk. Fatou spoke.
“I don't sense Q anymore.” she said simply.
“Oh? Why didn't you tell me you were capable of sensing him?” Tyr asked, raising both eyebrows in surprise.
“I didn't tell you because I considered my sensing his presence to be unreliable. I can only sense him when he uses his powers and I didn't want you to hang your hat on that, so to speak.” Fatou explained.
“Does this mean we will be able to go home?” Tyr asked.
“No, unfortunately it does not.” Fatou replied.
“Why not?” Tamara asked.
“Because I distinctly heard him say that he would be back. Then he blinked out.” Fatou replied. She tactfully left out Q's Arnold Swartzinagger impersonation. . . . . . .
“What cause him to leave in such a hurry?” Tyr wondered out loud.
“There are others here, now.” Fatou replied.
“Others? You mean other Q?” Tyr asked
“The Q Continuum consists of possibly hundreds of their kind. The majority of which are peaceful, co-exist with us, and occasionally help us out.” Tamara replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the one we encountered." she continued.
“So, they obviously are hunting for their rogue compatriot.” Tyr stated.
“I guess in the meantime we have to cool our nacelles until they either find him or set things straight.” Tamara said. Referring to being released from the "bubble" Q had trapped The Insurrection and her crew in.
“Or rather until they find him and MAKE him set things straight. Divine only knows, he may have set things into motion which only he can undo.” Fatou said sagely. The small hairs on Tyr's neck stood on end. That was not a good sign.
“You mean I'm stuck with this for the duration?” Tyr asked as he touched his nose, expecting to hear a resounding squeak. But, there was only silence.
“Stuck with what?” Fatou asked innocently.
“Never mind.” Tyr covered. “In the meantime I must have a meeting with the Quartermaster and Lieutenant Torres of Hydrophonics. I don't know how long we will be stuck here and if necessary I may have to institute rationing of resources and provisions to the crew.” Tyr continued.
The Insurrection was an Akira class Star Ship and not considered a long range vessel like the old Constitution or the updated Enterprise class. So, if Tyr instituted the “Voyager Protocols (made standard practice by Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Voyager while in the Alpha Quadrant) his crew and family would be able to survive a long term mission if need be.
“The first order of the day is to reduce power to all non-essential areas.” Tyr said to Tamara. “Other orders will be forthcoming after my meetings have been concluded. Dismissed.” Tyr continued in command mode.
“Aye, sir.” Tamara responded, executed a textbook military right and left. Leaving Tyr and Fatou alone.
“Now, what was that about the possibility of Q setting something in motion only HE can undo?” Tyr asked of Fatou.
“I said what I meant, and I meant what I said.” she replied succinctly, leaving no doubt in the Nietzschean Admiral's mind.
Fatou's Spanish was rusty, but she was positive Tyr's response was nothing but swear words in that particular language. . . . . . .
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, in the 88 Lounge (The Insurrection's Mess Hall), Melissa and Dragon were sitting together at a private table. They had agreed to coordinate their meal breaks to meet, chat and chew.
Dragon was outfitted in his modified version of a Starfleet Security uniform. Melissa was dressed in Starfleet Hydroponics coveralls. He had taken liberty of ordering food and drink for both himself and Melissa.
“How is your Chai?” Dragon asked, as he watched her hesitantly sip from a steaming cup.
“It's positively delicious!” Melissa proclaimed and smiled, after taking her first ever sip and taste.
“I'm surprised you've never had Chai before. After all you've traveled so far and wide. . . . .” Dragon said.
“Dragon, you wouldn't believe the stories I have of people trying to poison me. That's why I have my team along.” Melissa replied.
The life of an intergalactic news correspondent was not all it was cracked up to be. When dealing with shady characters, one did not eat what they offered you, no matter how hungry you were, or how tasty it looked. T'Kell always brought along a supply of meal bars and water pacs just in case. . . .
Dragon glanced off for a second and espied the Vulcan couple on the far side of the room engaged in lively discussion with several officers from Cartography. He was not fooled by that rouse one bit. They were attuned as to his every move as he was of theirs.
“What kind of sandwich is this?” she asked, as she gazed at hers then watched Dragon pick up his.
“It is a CLT. Cheese, lettuce and tomato on toasted multi grain bread, with a hint of mayonnaise.” he replied.
“No bacon?” she asked. .
“Yuck. Bacon contains far too much nitrates and fat.” Dragon replied. She'd forgotten that Nietzscheans were consummate health nuts and were extremely picky about what they ate.
“You should eat yours before it gets cold.” he admonished. Melissa took a bite and agreed it didn't taste bad.
“Okay, here comes the five thousand bars of gold plated latinum question. Why is your name Dragon?” Melissa asked. They had both finished their meal and the dishes had been removed by a steward. Dragon smiled shyly, dropped his head and sighed. Melissa was immediately sorry she'd asked.
“There was a slight error when my parents filed my official birth documents with The Hall of Records. My father had named me Dragoon, but somewhere along the line an “o” was omitted. The error was not discovered until I entered primary school. My father was furious and could have changed it back, but my mother loved the name Dragon. Since we Nietzscheans have a Matriarchal society and whatever the lady of the house says, goes, thus Dragon it stayed.” Dragon explained.
“Dragoon?? That's either a light infantry or a pirate ship isn't it?” Melissa asked.
“My father is an ardent fan of old Earth military history, and that's how he chose my name. It is a light infantry, where the soldiers originally rode horseback and carried light weaponry so they could move quickly.” he replied.
“So, how do you feel about your name now?” she asked, in full interview mode though she didn't intend for it to be so.
“I have no problem with it because I've been told on numerous occasions that I am as fierce as my namesake.” Dragon replied and smiled.
At that particular time, Dragon didn't look fierce. However, the man was second in command of Security on Tyr Anazasi's ship. That alone was no mean feat.
“So I'd say you were appropriately named.” Melissa replied.
“Yes, my father knows that now.” Dragon said as he smiled.
Melissa had so many other questions to ask but realized their meal break was almost over.
“Would you like to share dinner with me later?” Dragon asked. “That way you can ask all of the questions you want and I can ask some of my own.” he continued.
“I don't see why not.” she replied.
“How about back here at 1900 hours?” he asked.
“Excellent. I'll be here.” Melissa said as she rose to go. She didn't have to look for T'Kell and Skorr, because they were already approaching.
She waved as she left the 88 Lounge, and it was back to work for her.
“Ah! Isn't it great when love is in the air?” Ensign Palmer asked her fellow crew member Ensign Chee as they bussed The 88 Lounge's tables.
“Yeah. Those two will not be able to keep their minds on work for the rest of the afternoon and evening.” Chee replied.
“Oh the horror of it all!” Palmer replied as she playfully poked her friend in the ribs.
In the Great Hall of the Q, one hundred Q stood at parade rest in front of Janeway Q, and waited, waited, and waited. No one dared say a word for they all knew their leader was ticked.
“Two weeks, three days, twenty-three hours and seventeen minutes after I gave the order to find, capture and return Q to me, and you still haven't found him?” she asked calmly.
The leader of this particular group chose to step forth and speak. Contrary to popular thought and belief, the Q were not exclusively Human. This one was a stern looking Vulcan who strongly resembled Spock's father, Sarek.
“We have initiated a multi-verse search grid which was partially successful in only discovering where he had been.” he replied.
“Oh? Where?” she asked, patiently.
“He made multiple trips to Pinnacle and Deep Space Ten.” he replied.
“Pinnacle. That is the main Nietzschean home world, isn't it?” she asked.
“Yes it is the official seat of Nietzschean government.” he replied.
Though the Nietzscheans inhabited many planets and world ships, if Teddy Roosevelt were a Nietzschean, he would've said of Pinnacle “The buck stops here.”
“So what recent and significant event would've happened on Pinnacle to attract Q's attention?” she wondered aloud. Not that she didn't already know. For Q was unfortunately attracted to certain important events like a crow was to shiny objects.
“The death of Viceroy Barbarossa Anasazi. It was made significant by the fact that in totally breaking with Nietzschean tradition, Barbarossa chose to pass his crown to his youngest son, Tyr instead of his oldest son, Agamemnon.” The Vulcan Q replied.
“BINGO!” she thought.
“Viceroy Tyr Anasazi also happens to be a highly decorated Star Fleet officer, is he not?” she asked.
“Affirmative, Q." the Vulcan Q replied.
“So Tyr Anasazi is either blessed or cursed with being both. Q enjoys sticking his foot out and tripping people like him.” she replied and stood. “We are going to Deep Space Ten.” she said in answer to the questioning looks on everyone's face.
“We?” the Vulcan Q queried, as he raised his right eyebrow in a typical Vulcan manner.
“My father always said, if you want something done right, you must either do it your self, or personally supervise the task . . . . . .” she replied, as she and all 100 Q blinked out of existence.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile Captain Dylan Hunt was having an in-depth conversation with Captain Sherra of the Dolgarian ship Sojourner. Currently Dylan was in a quandary because he was both extremely tired and did not know which end was up Sherra.
The Dolgarian Captain was a black Human sized Pule, who had long black dreadlocks hanging over her face and eyes. The only hint he was talking to her face, was her moving snout and the occasional flash of her white canine teeth, and pink tongue.
“I can't believe I'm talking to a giant dog who is has dreadlocks like Tyr. First, human sized talking cats, now this. What's next? Talking elephants? If I run into any of those, I'm handing in my papers. . . .” Dylan thought wearily to himself, as he barely suppressed a yawn. He thought had done a good job of covering it up, but. . . .
“Captain Hunt. When was the last time you slept?” Sherra asked.
“Ops!” Dylan thought.
“Uh . . . . .Uh. . . . . . Forgive me. . . .” Dylan fumbled.
“I understand the Rear Admiral is a very close and dear friend, however, you must rest, or you will not be of much use to anyone. Not to yourself or even The Admiral should find him. Take some down time, Captain and Divine willing we will speak tomorrow.” She admonished. Dylan blinked because he swore he saw one of her alert brown eyes gazing back at him in the video pickup.
“Alright Captain, we will continue this conversation tomorrow at this time.” Dylan replied.
“1300 hours. Aye.” Sherra replied as she signed off. Dylan immediately called Rommie into his Ready Room. The second she saw him, she ordered him off the bridge and to his quarters to rest.
“Hey, you can't do that! You're my XO!” Dylan protested.
“I can if I see that you are unfit for duty. Which is a lot better than what Trance would do. She'd haul you down to Sickbay and give you a sedative.” Rommie replied. “Captain, go get some sleep, I'll take care of things here. Remember, androids don't require sleep.” she continued.
With that Dylan left the bridge and headed to his quarters. Once there he only had enough strength to remove his boots before he stretched out on his bed and fell asleep fully clothed in his uniform.
* * * * * * * *
Back on Deep Space Ten, the Janeway Q and the rest of her compatriots showed up on the station in a random manner. Some were disguised as merchants, others as crew, still others as tourists.
However, she personally decided to disguise herself as a ten year old girl. Nancy Cox was a child genius who'd won The Intergalactic Tesla Award for inventing some scientific thing of a bob. One of her prizes was an all expense paid trip to and a tour of Deep Space Ten.
“Why a child?” the Vulcan Q had queried.
“No one fears a child because for the most part, they are innocent, and because of that, people tell children everything.” she replied, and smiled. “I wager after speaking to a few key people I will be able to track down Q faster than your entire team.” she challenged.
“But, Q we have been using these methods for the past hundred eons.” the Vulcan Q replied.
“Perhaps your methods of investigation need a serious update.” she said. “That is precisely why Q was able to spring the trap without being caught by the noose.” she continued.
The Vulcan Q did not bother to reply. Janeway knew he was displeased, but she couldn't help that. Obviously Q was not an amateur, but neither was she. . . . . .
“First things first. We go to meet Fleet Admiral HaxHis. I never met a Katay before but I've heard a lot about them.” Janeway said, as she skipped along side the tall, austere Vulcan male as they made their way across the Upper Promenade to the bank of lifts.
* * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, Tyr and Tamara were spending quality “cuddle” time with each other. They had just gotten comfortable when
SQUEAK!
“What was that?” Tamara asked as they both jumped nearly a mile high off the bed like scalded cats.
“I don't know.” Tyr replied, as he grabbed the end of the duvet and shook it out, expecting to find one of his sons squeak toys in it. He then unsuccessfully searched the bed itself, to no avail.
“False alarm.” he said as he shrugged his shoulders and got back into bed. Tamara followed him and curled up into his arms. Back to business at hand. . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Both Nietzschean and Vulcan started again and stared at one another.
“It's you.” Tamara accused.
“Me? How the. . . . .” Tyr asked. In reply Tamara pressed the tip of his nose with her right forefinger and . . . . .
SQUEAK!
Tamara put both hands over her mouth as her green eyes became as wide as saucers. The look on Tyr's face was of utter stupefaction, then the realization dawned.
“Tamara. Do not laugh!” Tyr commanded.
“Your nose squeaks like a clowns nose and you expect me not to laugh?” Tamara thought through their marital link. She didn't exactly trust herself to speak at this particular time. . . . . . .
“I will beat you from port to starboard if you laugh.” Tyr threatened.
“Tyr Anazasi! I thought Nietzschean men did not beat their wives!” Tamara thought. Despite her best intentions she chuckled. She pulled away as he reached for her, and dashed across the room.
“There are always exceptions to that rule. . . .” Tyr replied and the chase was on.
* * * * * * *
In the meantime, Q was on the floor of the multi-verse rolling with hysterical laughter.
“You should've seen the look on your face when she pressed your nose, Mr. Neitzschean! What a hoot! I haven't had so much fun in ages!” Q said, as he applauded.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“I'd love to give him one up side the head.” Fatou thought sourly, as she stared up at the ceiling, through the many decks of The Insurrection, out into space at the exact spot where Q was hiding.
Q sensed Fatou's disapproving gaze. He looked back, gave her a raspberry, stuck his thumbs in his ears and twittled his fingers.
“Divine preserve us! Q is but a big child and Tyr is just his personal plaything!” Fatou thought in distress.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The mood was clearly broken so now the two love birds lay entwined in each other's arms. They'd both figured out, if they didn't touch Tyr's nose, they wouldn't have any problems.
“You do know that you have to go to Sickbay, right?” Tamara asked.
“I most certainly will not.” Tyr replied.
“Tyr!” Tamara exclaimed.
“And exactly what am I going to tell the Good Lady Doctor? That my nose squeaks like a child's toy? What remedy can she possibly recommend? I know no other except to find that low down filthy scum of a Q, who caused this mess in the first place and crush him like a rodent!” Tyr said. “I tell you what she's going to do. She's going to laugh her rear end off, just like the rest of the crew will do when they find out.” Tyr continued.
“I'm pretty sure she's not going to laugh at you, Tyr.” Tamara replied. At least she hoped and prayed Kori didn't. Klingons had the tendency to be unpredictable. . . . .
“That remains to be seen.” Tyr groused.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“This is so embarrassing.” Tyr thought to himself, and rolled his expressive brown eyes toward the ceiling. “I should've not only bet money Kori was going to laugh, but extra because she is howling too.” Tyr continued to think somberly.
You see, Klingons unlike Humans did not twitter, chuckle, chortle, or giggle. They roared with mirth, and since Kori was a typical Klingon she let it all hang out. Tamara wondered if the woman was going to howl at the moon next.
“So, what do you recommend?” Tyr asked as Dr. Kori calmed down.
“I have no recommendations except to not touch your nose.” Kori replied.
“Not touch my nose! That is impossible! I have to wash my face and blow it . . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Now you must find somewhere private if you need to do that. Oh and by the way, watch out for your sons. Once they find out your nose squeaks like that, they will never let you rest. Plus if the entire crew will find out. . . . .” she said, as she shook her head.
“And I will be the laughing stock of Starfleet. . . .” Tyr groused as he thought of Alexander's little reaching arms and grabby hands. Lysander was equally precocious. Kori was right, there was no rest for the weary.
“Thanks a lot Q! When I get my hands on you, you'll be deader than Elvis.” Tyr thought fiercely.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh my! I don't like that look on your face Mr. Nietzschean. Should I be afraid? Should I cringe in abject terror or should I laugh my butt off? I chose the latter! Oh, this is soooooo much fun!” Q said, as he dry washed his hands with glee, just like a mad scientist.
* * * * * * * * * *
Fatou narrowed her amber eyes. She was having her own private thoughts on what to do about Q, and they were not civil.
* * * * * * * * * *
Janeway Q had in the guise of Nancy Cox had just completed her tour with none other than the Station Commander, Fleet Admiral HaxHis. She and her compatriot Q were now all gathered in a safe corner of the multi-verse.
“Here is what I found out. Three and a half weeks ago, Admiral Anasazi was scheduled to lead a convoy of 12 relief ships to Avon Six. However, at the last second they were diverted due a distress signal which came from the Antares sector. They went to assist with Tyr's ship in the lead, however, The Insurrection and her crew simply disappeared.” she reported.
The other Q looked at one another with quizzical expressions. The unspoken question was "How the heck did she find all of that out?" Even though they were Q, there were some limits to what they could do especially when pitted against one of their own who had gone rogue. He was obviously using his limitless power to hide from them.
“HaxHis had the padd with the report on her desk, and I just happen to know how to read upside down.” Janeway replied, with a smile.
* * * * * * * * * *
There was no problem getting to the Antares sector, in fact it was a piece of cake. However, finding where Q had secreted himself was another story. At Janeway Q's orders the Q fanned out in pairs into as many directions as possible to begin an intense search.
* * * * * * * * * *
Q was in the middle of being up to no good as usual, when he froze in mid action.
“Oh shhhhhhhhhhhhh...............” he said. “I thought I put up enough shielding to protect and hide me from them!” he continued. He waved his right hand in Tyr's direction.
“I'll be back.” Q promised impersonating Arnold Schwarzenegger's “Terminator” charactor, then blinked out.
* * * * * * * * * *
Seconds later Fatou was heading towards the Bridge in a professional panic.
When the lift opened Tyr was sitting in the Central Seat reading and signing padds. He looked up, saw Fatou, and she gave him the signal that she wanted to speak to him and Captain McPhearson in private.
Once they were all situated, Tyr standing in his favorite place in front of the window, Tamara standing at parade rest, in front of Tyr's desk. Fatou spoke.
“I don't sense Q anymore.” she said simply.
“Oh? Why didn't you tell me you were capable of sensing him?” Tyr asked, raising both eyebrows in surprise.
“I didn't tell you because I considered my sensing his presence to be unreliable. I can only sense him when he uses his powers and I didn't want you to hang your hat on that, so to speak.” Fatou explained.
“Does this mean we will be able to go home?” Tyr asked.
“No, unfortunately it does not.” Fatou replied.
“Why not?” Tamara asked.
“Because I distinctly heard him say that he would be back. Then he blinked out.” Fatou replied. She tactfully left out Q's Arnold Swartzinagger impersonation. . . . . . .
“What cause him to leave in such a hurry?” Tyr wondered out loud.
“There are others here, now.” Fatou replied.
“Others? You mean other Q?” Tyr asked
“The Q Continuum consists of possibly hundreds of their kind. The majority of which are peaceful, co-exist with us, and occasionally help us out.” Tamara replied. "Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the one we encountered." she continued.
“So, they obviously are hunting for their rogue compatriot.” Tyr stated.
“I guess in the meantime we have to cool our nacelles until they either find him or set things straight.” Tamara said. Referring to being released from the "bubble" Q had trapped The Insurrection and her crew in.
“Or rather until they find him and MAKE him set things straight. Divine only knows, he may have set things into motion which only he can undo.” Fatou said sagely. The small hairs on Tyr's neck stood on end. That was not a good sign.
“You mean I'm stuck with this for the duration?” Tyr asked as he touched his nose, expecting to hear a resounding squeak. But, there was only silence.
“Stuck with what?” Fatou asked innocently.
“Never mind.” Tyr covered. “In the meantime I must have a meeting with the Quartermaster and Lieutenant Torres of Hydrophonics. I don't know how long we will be stuck here and if necessary I may have to institute rationing of resources and provisions to the crew.” Tyr continued.
The Insurrection was an Akira class Star Ship and not considered a long range vessel like the old Constitution or the updated Enterprise class. So, if Tyr instituted the “Voyager Protocols (made standard practice by Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Voyager while in the Alpha Quadrant) his crew and family would be able to survive a long term mission if need be.
“The first order of the day is to reduce power to all non-essential areas.” Tyr said to Tamara. “Other orders will be forthcoming after my meetings have been concluded. Dismissed.” Tyr continued in command mode.
“Aye, sir.” Tamara responded, executed a textbook military right and left. Leaving Tyr and Fatou alone.
“Now, what was that about the possibility of Q setting something in motion only HE can undo?” Tyr asked of Fatou.
“I said what I meant, and I meant what I said.” she replied succinctly, leaving no doubt in the Nietzschean Admiral's mind.
Fatou's Spanish was rusty, but she was positive Tyr's response was nothing but swear words in that particular language. . . . . . .
* * * * * *
Meanwhile, in the 88 Lounge (The Insurrection's Mess Hall), Melissa and Dragon were sitting together at a private table. They had agreed to coordinate their meal breaks to meet, chat and chew.
Dragon was outfitted in his modified version of a Starfleet Security uniform. Melissa was dressed in Starfleet Hydroponics coveralls. He had taken liberty of ordering food and drink for both himself and Melissa.
“How is your Chai?” Dragon asked, as he watched her hesitantly sip from a steaming cup.
“It's positively delicious!” Melissa proclaimed and smiled, after taking her first ever sip and taste.
“I'm surprised you've never had Chai before. After all you've traveled so far and wide. . . . .” Dragon said.
“Dragon, you wouldn't believe the stories I have of people trying to poison me. That's why I have my team along.” Melissa replied.
The life of an intergalactic news correspondent was not all it was cracked up to be. When dealing with shady characters, one did not eat what they offered you, no matter how hungry you were, or how tasty it looked. T'Kell always brought along a supply of meal bars and water pacs just in case. . . .
Dragon glanced off for a second and espied the Vulcan couple on the far side of the room engaged in lively discussion with several officers from Cartography. He was not fooled by that rouse one bit. They were attuned as to his every move as he was of theirs.
“What kind of sandwich is this?” she asked, as she gazed at hers then watched Dragon pick up his.
“It is a CLT. Cheese, lettuce and tomato on toasted multi grain bread, with a hint of mayonnaise.” he replied.
“No bacon?” she asked. .
“Yuck. Bacon contains far too much nitrates and fat.” Dragon replied. She'd forgotten that Nietzscheans were consummate health nuts and were extremely picky about what they ate.
“You should eat yours before it gets cold.” he admonished. Melissa took a bite and agreed it didn't taste bad.
“Okay, here comes the five thousand bars of gold plated latinum question. Why is your name Dragon?” Melissa asked. They had both finished their meal and the dishes had been removed by a steward. Dragon smiled shyly, dropped his head and sighed. Melissa was immediately sorry she'd asked.
“There was a slight error when my parents filed my official birth documents with The Hall of Records. My father had named me Dragoon, but somewhere along the line an “o” was omitted. The error was not discovered until I entered primary school. My father was furious and could have changed it back, but my mother loved the name Dragon. Since we Nietzscheans have a Matriarchal society and whatever the lady of the house says, goes, thus Dragon it stayed.” Dragon explained.
“Dragoon?? That's either a light infantry or a pirate ship isn't it?” Melissa asked.
“My father is an ardent fan of old Earth military history, and that's how he chose my name. It is a light infantry, where the soldiers originally rode horseback and carried light weaponry so they could move quickly.” he replied.
“So, how do you feel about your name now?” she asked, in full interview mode though she didn't intend for it to be so.
“I have no problem with it because I've been told on numerous occasions that I am as fierce as my namesake.” Dragon replied and smiled.
At that particular time, Dragon didn't look fierce. However, the man was second in command of Security on Tyr Anazasi's ship. That alone was no mean feat.
“So I'd say you were appropriately named.” Melissa replied.
“Yes, my father knows that now.” Dragon said as he smiled.
Melissa had so many other questions to ask but realized their meal break was almost over.
“Would you like to share dinner with me later?” Dragon asked. “That way you can ask all of the questions you want and I can ask some of my own.” he continued.
“I don't see why not.” she replied.
“How about back here at 1900 hours?” he asked.
“Excellent. I'll be here.” Melissa said as she rose to go. She didn't have to look for T'Kell and Skorr, because they were already approaching.
She waved as she left the 88 Lounge, and it was back to work for her.
“Ah! Isn't it great when love is in the air?” Ensign Palmer asked her fellow crew member Ensign Chee as they bussed The 88 Lounge's tables.
“Yeah. Those two will not be able to keep their minds on work for the rest of the afternoon and evening.” Chee replied.
“Oh the horror of it all!” Palmer replied as she playfully poked her friend in the ribs.
Free Enterprise - A Family Feast - Sorta #125
Free Enterprise - A Family Feast – Sorta - #125
Tyr woke up and dived into pure pandemonium. All of his wives were multi-tasking, doing three things at a time while trying to get ready themselves.
Both Alexander and Lysander were hungry and loudly demanded to eat right now, not later when the meal was finally cooked and served. So Hoy Li and Li Hoy took them aside and gave them each a light fruit snack to keep them quiet.
Tyr found himself in competition for kitchen counter space as he whipped up a large tray of baked ziti and a salad to accompany it. Amanda had taught Desi how to make curry chicken, and she was cooking up a batch along with some rice and peas, while Tamara cooked up Huminza (a Vulcan wild rice with vegetables dish). Not to be outmatched by Fatou who was preparing a pot of Quil. A spicy and hearty Katay fish stew. Once everything was in the oven or on the stove simmering away, wives scattered to get cleaned up and dressed for the event. Tyr mosied back to his quarters to do likewise.
By the time he returned their first guests were there. Melissa Culpepper was there with her team. The team consisted of one man and one woman, both of Vulcan decent and married to each other. T'Kell was “hair”, make up and wardrobe specialist and she took care of Melissa's on the camera appearance and administrative duties. Skoll was the technical guy who handled the camera and sound aspect, and was also the body guard. Actually both were. Though T'Fara was female, she was more than capable of opening a can of Beat Down if needed to.
It seemed as soon as Melissa sat down on the sofa, Alexander climbed up on her lap. Tamara and Xena tried to shoo him off, but he stubbornly clung to the reporter. Truth be told, Melissa was charmed by this miniature version of Tyr, though she couldn't say the same for his father.
“The children should not suffer because of their father's sins.” Melissa muttered.
“Oui!” Fatou thought to herself.
* * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, back on Deep Space 10 , in her office, Admiral Haxhis was receiving reports from all over.
A half an hour ago she had just made a call to Tyr's mother Victoria Anasazi and apprized her of the situation. To wit: her son's ship, crew, family, and he was missing. This of course included her grandchildren Alexander and Lysander.
HaxHis had expected the woman to go nutter. To scream, cry, rage, howl at the moon, anything. But, The Queen Mother was as measured and composed as could be. She'd even offered the assistance of ships and crews to augment the search. But, Haxhis had turned it down.
“We don't really know what has happened yet and if you send ships the word will spread like wildfire that the Nietzscheans brand new Viceroy is missing.” HaxHis replied.
“You are right.” Victoria said. “Perhaps I should send a couple of merchant ships with disguised military crews to assist instead.” she suggested.
“No, that would not do either. This station is being monitored by spies with hostile intentions and the slightest action out of whack will spark an incident. Plus, the Dolgarians have volunteered to help. Haxhis said. “If anyone can find that ship, they can. They are excellent trackers.” she continued.
“And what of this Q person you spoke of? I thought he was imprisoned by the Continuum due to him introducing the Borg to our system which initiated The Borg War.” Victoria said. That war had cost BILLIONS of innocent lives and destroyed hundreds of planets.
“I thought so too. Where ever he was, he got out of jail so to speak and is back up to his old tricks. I pray to the Divine The Continuum finds him, puts a stop to his nonsense. There's no telling what that creature has in store for Tyr, his crew and his family.” HaxHis replied.
“I have an apt punishment for Q's crime. Remove his immortality and leave him in my charge for a year.” Victoria suggested. At it's mere mention, the fine hairs stood on Haxhis neck. She couldn't imagine what the Nietzscheans Queen Mother would do to Q while he was in her care.
“May it never come to that.” Haxhis thought. For Nietzschean women tended to be three times as treacherous as their male counterparts.
“I'm confident The Continuum will find him before any serious damage is done.” Haxhis replied firmlly.
“Oh? Why do you say that?” Victoria asked.
“Because of their newest addition and leader. She didn't exactly see eye to eye with Q when she was alive, and now that she is with the Q. . . . .” Haxhis started.
“And whom might that be?” Victoria asked.
“Admiral Kathryn Janeway.” Haxhis replied.
“If all I've heard about her is true, Q is definitely in big trouble.” Victoria said after a stunned moment of silence.
“Yes, indeed he is.” HaxHis replied.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile back on The Insurrection, Tyr's Pride took time out from their present day problems and circumstances to have a traditional Nietzschean family feast.
Traditionally, family members (if old enough) prepared dishes and guests/friends brought their empty stomachs and some form of entertainment.
After the food had been eaten and desserts consumed, Hoy Li and Li Hoy assisted with clean up, while Tamara and Xena put the little ones to sleep. This was although Alexander was perfectly happy to doze in Melissa's lap.
Since Alexander was the more outgoing of the two boys, he took on the task of doing reconnaissance, and if he approved, then Lysander came along.
For the rest of the evening the group fell into easy conversation. Melissa even brought up a charity she had pioneered as a result of her condition.
Lids For Life, was where thousands of women and men donated, hand knit, crocheted or weaved hats and head coverings for the follicular challenged. To prove her point she reached into her shoulder bag and brought a ball of colorful yarn with a crochet needle stuck into it. Attached to said needle was the beginnings of her next project.
“Wow! I haven't seen anyone do that in years.” Tamara said. “My foster Mom not only taught me how to knit, crochet and sew but also beading, because she had cousins who were full blooded Navaho and Shoshoni Indians. I'd like to get back into it for the cause, but I'm afraid, I might be too rusty though.” she continued.
“You see, this not only teaches women to be charitable to others, but it also teaches what is believed to be one of the many dying arts in Humanoid culture. Handcrafting. The sad thing about progress is the easier it is to replicate things, people forget the skills and arts one needed to make the items in the first place.” Melissa said. “Oh and don't worry about your skills being rusty. I always carry extra yarn and needles and I also give impromptu lessons if need be.”
The evening ended with Tamara making an appointment to see Melissa in order to have a refresher course in crocheting. Then Melissa Culpepper and her “people” were escorted back to their quarters by Security. Tyr was not letting her off the hook yet. Even though she had befriended his sons. . . . . . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“That one admires you.” T'Kell said, as Melissa entered their quarters. It was a much smaller version of the Anasazi Family Quad. Melissa pulled up short because she knew exactly “who” T'Kell was talking about. Both of her staff had been trained in spotting stalkers and undesirable hangers on and the like, just in case. They were both dead on the mark when they pointed out someone to her. But, Melissa was no slouch either. After ten years in the field she too recognized the weirdos and dangerous types.
Yes, she had noticed the leader of her supposed Security Team since yesterday when Tyr has sent them to fetch her to the bridge. He was, an intense young man (approximately 10 to 12 years her junior), perhaps 5'8”, 190 pds, a fit as all get out Nietzschean, with dark brown hair and eyes and a latte complexion.
The man's stare was a tad too intense. However, when he noticed that The Vulcans had taken notice of him (like a pair of alert Dobermans), he quickly averted his attention and only stole an occasional meaningful glance at her. One of those so-called glances was enough.
“It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning.” Melissa thought to herself.
“I know what you're thinking T'Kell. But, he's young enough to be my son.” Melissa replied.
“That may be so, but obviously he was mature enough to apply for and be accepted by Star Fleet.” T'Kell replied. In other words, if he was old enough to put his life on the line and become a living and breathing target for Star Fleet Security, he was old enough to take an interest in Melissa Culpepper.
“Ah, T'Kell, in case you haven't noticed, Nietzscheans are really into this body perfection thing. They tend not to mate up with Humans who have obvious design flaws like me.” Melissa said. Referring to her obviously bald pate.
“This is a prime example of why you Humans are so illogical. The young man merely wishes to speak to you, however you already foresee yourself as a great grand parent.” T'Kell replied. It sounded far fetched, but once again T'Kell was right on point.
“Chalk that up to an over active imagination.” Melissa said.
“It is more like undisciplined thinking. You must remember to handle one task at a time. Absolutely nothing will be accomplished if you have numerous things on your mind at once.” T'Kell admonished. “First, arrange to speak to the young man, then see where that leads.” she continued.
“What is his name by the way?” Melissa asked, for she knew the woman had the scoop on all of his details.
“Dragon.” was T'Kell's reply.
“Dragon? What kind of name is that? I thought Nietzscheans only named their children after famous rulers and conquerors. Is that his given name or surname?” Melissa asked as she frowned.
“Dragon is his given name.” T'Kell replied. “Now you have a valid topic to discuss.” she continued as she headed into her shared quarters with her husband Skoll.
“Melissa and Dragon? Dragon and Melissa?” the reporter thought. “Naaaaaaah!” she scoffed out loud as she stepped through the doors to her quarters.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, the man of the hour, Q was practically asleep at the switch.
“OMG! This is so BORING! I've got to do something to kick things up a notch!” Q exclaimed. “ Tomorrow morning when Mr. Anasazi wakes up, he'll have a nice unpleasant surprise.” he promised, as he got up from his easy chair and stormed off.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile Fatou was grooming herself for the night. She paused mid-lick as she sensed Q afoot.
“Oh-oh!.” Fatou thought.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi was awakened from his sound slumber by the worse stomach cramps he ever had in his life. In fact, he'd never had stomach cramps!
For approximately two minutes he could only curl up in fetal position and writhe in complete agony. However, at the last second he dashed out of bed and scorched to the head. He made it just in time.
As he exited he ran right into Tamara who had stationed herself directly in front of the door. Tyr had forgotten his first wife was telepathically linked to him and therefore felt every ache and pain he felt.
“I would not go in there if I were you.” he said seriously.
“Why? Did you blow it up?” Tamara asked in equal seriousness. “Blow it up” were code words her Foster Mom would use to describe when one left the bathroom stinky and unihabitable. . . . . . . .
Tyr was about to reply when another series of cramps tore through him. He swiftly retreated to whence he had come.
“I called Kori.” Tamara said, as Tyr returned. “Montazuma's Revenge is nothing to play with, Tyr.” she continued with hands on hips as she eyed her stubborn Nietzschean spouse.
“If I recall correctly, that particular malady was due to impure drinking water.” Tyr sighed.
“Either you get dressed and come with me to Sickbay right now, or I will summon Security to drag you there.” Tamara threatened.
“Uh, you're gonna have to wait one. . . . .” Tyr said as he dashed back into the head.
“Oui Vay!” Tamara said as she threw up her hands and shook her head.
“It's just like dealing with Alexander and Lysander, only they are a lot smaller.” she thought.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
From the rims of the Multi Verse, Q was besides himself with glee. He was literally rolling on the ground and laughing.
“This gives new meaning to the words POOP DECK!” Q said, as sat up and tossed handfuls of confetti into the air.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“Ugh! Poor Tyr!” Fatou thought as she headed for Sickbay.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“Well? What is your verdict?” Tyr rumbled at Kori. She'd just finished his full spectral exam.
“Verdicts are for juries. Doctors give diagnosis.” Kori replied patiently. Tamara stared at the two. If she didn't know better it looked as if they enjoyed baiting one other.
“Out with it woman!” Tyr said.
“As a Human being there are select conditions or diseases inherent to certain races. Some are more prone to heart attacks and strokes than others. Some are more prone to high blood pressure and diabetes . . .” she started.
“What does that have to do with me?” Tyr interrupted.
“I don't like to bring up race but you are considered to be of African American extraction. About 85% of African Americans are Lactose Intolerant. This just means the body lacks a specific enzyme which helps to break down the sugar content in milk and dairy products. That's why some get stomach cramps and the trots.” Kori continued.
“You mean I can no longer consume cheese or drink milk? I've always. . . . .” Tyr started. "I love cheese. . . . . ."
“Tyr, you were not always fully Human like you are now. Now you are susceptible to kinds of things that a normal Nietzschean body would just throw off.” Kori explained.
“You have two choices, I have an enzyme supplement you can take before you eat any dairy products. It will help your body break down the sugar content. Or you can give up all dairy products until after this thing with Q ends. It's up to you Tyr.” Kori said. Tyr opted for the pills.
“Also, try to get some water into your system. The trots have a tendency to cause dehydration, and you don't need that either.” Kori said. “Remember, we are here to help you so that you don't have to go it alone.” she continued.
Tyr woke up and dived into pure pandemonium. All of his wives were multi-tasking, doing three things at a time while trying to get ready themselves.
Both Alexander and Lysander were hungry and loudly demanded to eat right now, not later when the meal was finally cooked and served. So Hoy Li and Li Hoy took them aside and gave them each a light fruit snack to keep them quiet.
Tyr found himself in competition for kitchen counter space as he whipped up a large tray of baked ziti and a salad to accompany it. Amanda had taught Desi how to make curry chicken, and she was cooking up a batch along with some rice and peas, while Tamara cooked up Huminza (a Vulcan wild rice with vegetables dish). Not to be outmatched by Fatou who was preparing a pot of Quil. A spicy and hearty Katay fish stew. Once everything was in the oven or on the stove simmering away, wives scattered to get cleaned up and dressed for the event. Tyr mosied back to his quarters to do likewise.
By the time he returned their first guests were there. Melissa Culpepper was there with her team. The team consisted of one man and one woman, both of Vulcan decent and married to each other. T'Kell was “hair”, make up and wardrobe specialist and she took care of Melissa's on the camera appearance and administrative duties. Skoll was the technical guy who handled the camera and sound aspect, and was also the body guard. Actually both were. Though T'Fara was female, she was more than capable of opening a can of Beat Down if needed to.
It seemed as soon as Melissa sat down on the sofa, Alexander climbed up on her lap. Tamara and Xena tried to shoo him off, but he stubbornly clung to the reporter. Truth be told, Melissa was charmed by this miniature version of Tyr, though she couldn't say the same for his father.
“The children should not suffer because of their father's sins.” Melissa muttered.
“Oui!” Fatou thought to herself.
* * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, back on Deep Space 10 , in her office, Admiral Haxhis was receiving reports from all over.
A half an hour ago she had just made a call to Tyr's mother Victoria Anasazi and apprized her of the situation. To wit: her son's ship, crew, family, and he was missing. This of course included her grandchildren Alexander and Lysander.
HaxHis had expected the woman to go nutter. To scream, cry, rage, howl at the moon, anything. But, The Queen Mother was as measured and composed as could be. She'd even offered the assistance of ships and crews to augment the search. But, Haxhis had turned it down.
“We don't really know what has happened yet and if you send ships the word will spread like wildfire that the Nietzscheans brand new Viceroy is missing.” HaxHis replied.
“You are right.” Victoria said. “Perhaps I should send a couple of merchant ships with disguised military crews to assist instead.” she suggested.
“No, that would not do either. This station is being monitored by spies with hostile intentions and the slightest action out of whack will spark an incident. Plus, the Dolgarians have volunteered to help. Haxhis said. “If anyone can find that ship, they can. They are excellent trackers.” she continued.
“And what of this Q person you spoke of? I thought he was imprisoned by the Continuum due to him introducing the Borg to our system which initiated The Borg War.” Victoria said. That war had cost BILLIONS of innocent lives and destroyed hundreds of planets.
“I thought so too. Where ever he was, he got out of jail so to speak and is back up to his old tricks. I pray to the Divine The Continuum finds him, puts a stop to his nonsense. There's no telling what that creature has in store for Tyr, his crew and his family.” HaxHis replied.
“I have an apt punishment for Q's crime. Remove his immortality and leave him in my charge for a year.” Victoria suggested. At it's mere mention, the fine hairs stood on Haxhis neck. She couldn't imagine what the Nietzscheans Queen Mother would do to Q while he was in her care.
“May it never come to that.” Haxhis thought. For Nietzschean women tended to be three times as treacherous as their male counterparts.
“I'm confident The Continuum will find him before any serious damage is done.” Haxhis replied firmlly.
“Oh? Why do you say that?” Victoria asked.
“Because of their newest addition and leader. She didn't exactly see eye to eye with Q when she was alive, and now that she is with the Q. . . . .” Haxhis started.
“And whom might that be?” Victoria asked.
“Admiral Kathryn Janeway.” Haxhis replied.
“If all I've heard about her is true, Q is definitely in big trouble.” Victoria said after a stunned moment of silence.
“Yes, indeed he is.” HaxHis replied.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile back on The Insurrection, Tyr's Pride took time out from their present day problems and circumstances to have a traditional Nietzschean family feast.
Traditionally, family members (if old enough) prepared dishes and guests/friends brought their empty stomachs and some form of entertainment.
After the food had been eaten and desserts consumed, Hoy Li and Li Hoy assisted with clean up, while Tamara and Xena put the little ones to sleep. This was although Alexander was perfectly happy to doze in Melissa's lap.
Since Alexander was the more outgoing of the two boys, he took on the task of doing reconnaissance, and if he approved, then Lysander came along.
For the rest of the evening the group fell into easy conversation. Melissa even brought up a charity she had pioneered as a result of her condition.
Lids For Life, was where thousands of women and men donated, hand knit, crocheted or weaved hats and head coverings for the follicular challenged. To prove her point she reached into her shoulder bag and brought a ball of colorful yarn with a crochet needle stuck into it. Attached to said needle was the beginnings of her next project.
“Wow! I haven't seen anyone do that in years.” Tamara said. “My foster Mom not only taught me how to knit, crochet and sew but also beading, because she had cousins who were full blooded Navaho and Shoshoni Indians. I'd like to get back into it for the cause, but I'm afraid, I might be too rusty though.” she continued.
“You see, this not only teaches women to be charitable to others, but it also teaches what is believed to be one of the many dying arts in Humanoid culture. Handcrafting. The sad thing about progress is the easier it is to replicate things, people forget the skills and arts one needed to make the items in the first place.” Melissa said. “Oh and don't worry about your skills being rusty. I always carry extra yarn and needles and I also give impromptu lessons if need be.”
The evening ended with Tamara making an appointment to see Melissa in order to have a refresher course in crocheting. Then Melissa Culpepper and her “people” were escorted back to their quarters by Security. Tyr was not letting her off the hook yet. Even though she had befriended his sons. . . . . . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * *
“That one admires you.” T'Kell said, as Melissa entered their quarters. It was a much smaller version of the Anasazi Family Quad. Melissa pulled up short because she knew exactly “who” T'Kell was talking about. Both of her staff had been trained in spotting stalkers and undesirable hangers on and the like, just in case. They were both dead on the mark when they pointed out someone to her. But, Melissa was no slouch either. After ten years in the field she too recognized the weirdos and dangerous types.
Yes, she had noticed the leader of her supposed Security Team since yesterday when Tyr has sent them to fetch her to the bridge. He was, an intense young man (approximately 10 to 12 years her junior), perhaps 5'8”, 190 pds, a fit as all get out Nietzschean, with dark brown hair and eyes and a latte complexion.
The man's stare was a tad too intense. However, when he noticed that The Vulcans had taken notice of him (like a pair of alert Dobermans), he quickly averted his attention and only stole an occasional meaningful glance at her. One of those so-called glances was enough.
“It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning.” Melissa thought to herself.
“I know what you're thinking T'Kell. But, he's young enough to be my son.” Melissa replied.
“That may be so, but obviously he was mature enough to apply for and be accepted by Star Fleet.” T'Kell replied. In other words, if he was old enough to put his life on the line and become a living and breathing target for Star Fleet Security, he was old enough to take an interest in Melissa Culpepper.
“Ah, T'Kell, in case you haven't noticed, Nietzscheans are really into this body perfection thing. They tend not to mate up with Humans who have obvious design flaws like me.” Melissa said. Referring to her obviously bald pate.
“This is a prime example of why you Humans are so illogical. The young man merely wishes to speak to you, however you already foresee yourself as a great grand parent.” T'Kell replied. It sounded far fetched, but once again T'Kell was right on point.
“Chalk that up to an over active imagination.” Melissa said.
“It is more like undisciplined thinking. You must remember to handle one task at a time. Absolutely nothing will be accomplished if you have numerous things on your mind at once.” T'Kell admonished. “First, arrange to speak to the young man, then see where that leads.” she continued.
“What is his name by the way?” Melissa asked, for she knew the woman had the scoop on all of his details.
“Dragon.” was T'Kell's reply.
“Dragon? What kind of name is that? I thought Nietzscheans only named their children after famous rulers and conquerors. Is that his given name or surname?” Melissa asked as she frowned.
“Dragon is his given name.” T'Kell replied. “Now you have a valid topic to discuss.” she continued as she headed into her shared quarters with her husband Skoll.
“Melissa and Dragon? Dragon and Melissa?” the reporter thought. “Naaaaaaah!” she scoffed out loud as she stepped through the doors to her quarters.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, the man of the hour, Q was practically asleep at the switch.
“OMG! This is so BORING! I've got to do something to kick things up a notch!” Q exclaimed. “ Tomorrow morning when Mr. Anasazi wakes up, he'll have a nice unpleasant surprise.” he promised, as he got up from his easy chair and stormed off.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile Fatou was grooming herself for the night. She paused mid-lick as she sensed Q afoot.
“Oh-oh!.” Fatou thought.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi was awakened from his sound slumber by the worse stomach cramps he ever had in his life. In fact, he'd never had stomach cramps!
For approximately two minutes he could only curl up in fetal position and writhe in complete agony. However, at the last second he dashed out of bed and scorched to the head. He made it just in time.
As he exited he ran right into Tamara who had stationed herself directly in front of the door. Tyr had forgotten his first wife was telepathically linked to him and therefore felt every ache and pain he felt.
“I would not go in there if I were you.” he said seriously.
“Why? Did you blow it up?” Tamara asked in equal seriousness. “Blow it up” were code words her Foster Mom would use to describe when one left the bathroom stinky and unihabitable. . . . . . . .
Tyr was about to reply when another series of cramps tore through him. He swiftly retreated to whence he had come.
“I called Kori.” Tamara said, as Tyr returned. “Montazuma's Revenge is nothing to play with, Tyr.” she continued with hands on hips as she eyed her stubborn Nietzschean spouse.
“If I recall correctly, that particular malady was due to impure drinking water.” Tyr sighed.
“Either you get dressed and come with me to Sickbay right now, or I will summon Security to drag you there.” Tamara threatened.
“Uh, you're gonna have to wait one. . . . .” Tyr said as he dashed back into the head.
“Oui Vay!” Tamara said as she threw up her hands and shook her head.
“It's just like dealing with Alexander and Lysander, only they are a lot smaller.” she thought.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
From the rims of the Multi Verse, Q was besides himself with glee. He was literally rolling on the ground and laughing.
“This gives new meaning to the words POOP DECK!” Q said, as sat up and tossed handfuls of confetti into the air.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“Ugh! Poor Tyr!” Fatou thought as she headed for Sickbay.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“Well? What is your verdict?” Tyr rumbled at Kori. She'd just finished his full spectral exam.
“Verdicts are for juries. Doctors give diagnosis.” Kori replied patiently. Tamara stared at the two. If she didn't know better it looked as if they enjoyed baiting one other.
“Out with it woman!” Tyr said.
“As a Human being there are select conditions or diseases inherent to certain races. Some are more prone to heart attacks and strokes than others. Some are more prone to high blood pressure and diabetes . . .” she started.
“What does that have to do with me?” Tyr interrupted.
“I don't like to bring up race but you are considered to be of African American extraction. About 85% of African Americans are Lactose Intolerant. This just means the body lacks a specific enzyme which helps to break down the sugar content in milk and dairy products. That's why some get stomach cramps and the trots.” Kori continued.
“You mean I can no longer consume cheese or drink milk? I've always. . . . .” Tyr started. "I love cheese. . . . . ."
“Tyr, you were not always fully Human like you are now. Now you are susceptible to kinds of things that a normal Nietzschean body would just throw off.” Kori explained.
“You have two choices, I have an enzyme supplement you can take before you eat any dairy products. It will help your body break down the sugar content. Or you can give up all dairy products until after this thing with Q ends. It's up to you Tyr.” Kori said. Tyr opted for the pills.
“Also, try to get some water into your system. The trots have a tendency to cause dehydration, and you don't need that either.” Kori said. “Remember, we are here to help you so that you don't have to go it alone.” she continued.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Free Enterprise - A Rude Awakening - #122
Free Enterprise - A Rude Awakening - #122
It was T-Minus ten minutes, and they were all gathered around Tyr's bed. Tamara, Xena, Desi, Hoy-Li, Li-Hoy, Fatou, Gilgamesh, Kori, Seamus and Monique. After much discussion and fretting they all decided to stand back and let the least threatening person be the first person for Tyr to see when he opened his eyes.
Since Tamara had a Vulcan marital link with Tyr, she was the first to sense his rise to consciousness. Hoy-Li and Li-Hoy confirmed it.
“Here he comes.” she warned in a whisper. Tyr's eyes fluttered open, and the first person he espied was none other than his “Little Brother, Seamus Harper.
“Hey, Big Guy. How ya feelin'?” Harper asked and smiled. Tyr blinked several times with momentary confusion, then smiled.
“The last thing I remember. . . . . . . I was on the bridge. . . Why am I here?” Tyr asked. He finally realized that he was in Sickbay, surrounded by loved ones, then frowned.
“How do you feel, Tyr?” Seamus persisted. Tyr seemed to do a quick survey of his being.
“I feel like. . . . . . . . offal. . . . . . . .” he replied, as he frowned again. He couldn't recall a single time where he'd felt so unwell. Nietzscheans as a rule, rarely became ill.
“Are you in pain, Sir” Kori piped up.
“Oh, is that what you call this? I feel strange. Like I'm not . . . . . . . quite myself . . . . . . . . .” Tyr replied, as he attempted to lever himself up and found he was being held down by the bed's auto restrainers. “. . . . . . why am I . . . . . . if this is a joke, I am not amused. . . .” he continued, dangerously.
”This is not going well. . . . ..” Fatou thought.
“What is the last thing you remember, Tyr?” Fatou piped up and asked.
“An intruder on the Bridge. . . . .” Tyr started.
“ . . . . . . . that intruder was none other than a renegade member of the Continuum named Q.” Tamara completed.
“Wasn't that the same creature who used to bedevil Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his crew?” Tyr asked.
”Creature? Bedevil?” Fatou wondered.
“One in same.” Tamara replied.
“I was under the impression that particular Q was placed on lock down by the Continuum. After all, his meddling introduced the Borg to our quadrant, and the rest was unfortunate doom for billions of beings in our quadrent. . . . . .” Tyr stated.
“Apparently, he broke out of jail and is on the loose again. Unfortunately for you Tyr, he has made a personal project out of us, the crew of the Instruction, and you.” Tamara replied. She went on to explain that how Kesha suspected the ship was caught was caught in a time dilation loop. Tyr got a sudden, horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“What has he done to me?” he demanded, cutting Tamara off. As if by judicial fiat, all eyes turned to Kori.
“He completely stripped you of your Nietzschean DNA.” Kori replied.
“HE DID WHAT!?” Tyr exclaimed in disbelief. He would been much more demonstrative had it not been for the restraints. He was expecting something bad, but not THIS bad!
“He totally stripped you of your Nietzschean DNA. For now you are just like your cousins, the Humans.” Kori repeated. She knew Tyr heard what she'd said. Often times when people received what they perceived as bad news, they needed to be told numerous times in order to get past the initial shock of hearing it in the first place.
Kori explained how long Q said this “so-called test” would last. She then went on to explain the inoculations he had been given.
“The real nitty-gritty will be the temporary lifestyle adjustments you must make.” Kori stated as she pressed the controls to release the bed's restraints. Tyr slowly sat up and hung his legs off the edge of the bed as he listened.
“The first thing is sleep. The average Nietzschean gets three to four hours of sleep per twenty four hour period. With Humans, they need at the very least seven hours to function optimally. You will have to plan your days around getting enough rest. With eating there will be another change. I know Nietzscheans are healthy eaters but Humans must watch their caloric intake, because the Human body is not as well equipped to metabolize foods like a Nietzschean's. You must be sure to restrict your fats, sugars and salts. . . .
. . . . . .Stick to a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables and drink plenty of water. Just in case I've put together a supplement package for you to take daily. As for exercising, you are really going to have to watch how you work out. Obviously you will not be able to lift the same amount of weight you used to as a Nietzschean. . . .”
Kori trailed off as she and everyone present watched as Tyr gazed at his naked forearms, sans boneblades. Tamara gazed at Xena, who gazed at Gilgamesh, then Fatou.
“Tyr, are you going to be okay?” Fatou asked.
“I am fine, Councilor Fatou.” Tyr replied.
“As I was saying, you are going to have to be very careful with your workouts. What ever poundage you used to lift, you will have to either half or quarter it. It would not do for you to severely injure yourself in the gym. In fact, Gilgamesh has volunteered to be your spotter/trainer for the duration until you get your powers back. No crazy feats of heroism for you for the next three months. You are no longer capable of consuming poisons. You can no longer hold your breath for fifteen minutes, you can't breathe toxic gases and if you get hit by phaser fire, it better be on stun.” Kori continued.
“Last but not least, be advised that now you are Human, you are susceptible to a variety of ailments. If you so much as cut your finger, sneeze, cough, have an upset stomach or stomach ache, headache, develop a rash, I don't care how minor, I want your butt down here. You here me?” Kori added as she locked gazes with Tyr.
“Yes, Mother.” Tyr replied so innocently that everyone laughed.
“Don't give me just cause to hunt you down, and enact my Medical Authority over you, Sir.” Kori threatened, as she crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Tyr. Of course, he glared right back.
“This is no time to play the Lone Ranger. We are all willing and able to help you but you have to let us, Tyr.” Fatou said, as she canted her head to the side and gazed at him.
“Alright. Would someone please get me a fresh uniform so I can get out of these silly Sickbay pajamas? I've got a ship to run, and refuse to do so looking like this.” Tyr stated. “That's if it's alright with you, Doctor Kori.” he added, politely.
“But of course. Limited duty for the first three days, and we will play it by ear thereafter.” Kori admonished. Tyr smiled his thanks, took the uniform and boots Tamara handed to him, and made a beeline to the nearest fresher.
It was T-Minus ten minutes, and they were all gathered around Tyr's bed. Tamara, Xena, Desi, Hoy-Li, Li-Hoy, Fatou, Gilgamesh, Kori, Seamus and Monique. After much discussion and fretting they all decided to stand back and let the least threatening person be the first person for Tyr to see when he opened his eyes.
Since Tamara had a Vulcan marital link with Tyr, she was the first to sense his rise to consciousness. Hoy-Li and Li-Hoy confirmed it.
“Here he comes.” she warned in a whisper. Tyr's eyes fluttered open, and the first person he espied was none other than his “Little Brother, Seamus Harper.
“Hey, Big Guy. How ya feelin'?” Harper asked and smiled. Tyr blinked several times with momentary confusion, then smiled.
“The last thing I remember. . . . . . . I was on the bridge. . . Why am I here?” Tyr asked. He finally realized that he was in Sickbay, surrounded by loved ones, then frowned.
“How do you feel, Tyr?” Seamus persisted. Tyr seemed to do a quick survey of his being.
“I feel like. . . . . . . . offal. . . . . . . .” he replied, as he frowned again. He couldn't recall a single time where he'd felt so unwell. Nietzscheans as a rule, rarely became ill.
“Are you in pain, Sir” Kori piped up.
“Oh, is that what you call this? I feel strange. Like I'm not . . . . . . . quite myself . . . . . . . . .” Tyr replied, as he attempted to lever himself up and found he was being held down by the bed's auto restrainers. “. . . . . . why am I . . . . . . if this is a joke, I am not amused. . . .” he continued, dangerously.
”This is not going well. . . . ..” Fatou thought.
“What is the last thing you remember, Tyr?” Fatou piped up and asked.
“An intruder on the Bridge. . . . .” Tyr started.
“ . . . . . . . that intruder was none other than a renegade member of the Continuum named Q.” Tamara completed.
“Wasn't that the same creature who used to bedevil Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his crew?” Tyr asked.
”Creature? Bedevil?” Fatou wondered.
“One in same.” Tamara replied.
“I was under the impression that particular Q was placed on lock down by the Continuum. After all, his meddling introduced the Borg to our quadrant, and the rest was unfortunate doom for billions of beings in our quadrent. . . . . .” Tyr stated.
“Apparently, he broke out of jail and is on the loose again. Unfortunately for you Tyr, he has made a personal project out of us, the crew of the Instruction, and you.” Tamara replied. She went on to explain that how Kesha suspected the ship was caught was caught in a time dilation loop. Tyr got a sudden, horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“What has he done to me?” he demanded, cutting Tamara off. As if by judicial fiat, all eyes turned to Kori.
“He completely stripped you of your Nietzschean DNA.” Kori replied.
“HE DID WHAT!?” Tyr exclaimed in disbelief. He would been much more demonstrative had it not been for the restraints. He was expecting something bad, but not THIS bad!
“He totally stripped you of your Nietzschean DNA. For now you are just like your cousins, the Humans.” Kori repeated. She knew Tyr heard what she'd said. Often times when people received what they perceived as bad news, they needed to be told numerous times in order to get past the initial shock of hearing it in the first place.
Kori explained how long Q said this “so-called test” would last. She then went on to explain the inoculations he had been given.
“The real nitty-gritty will be the temporary lifestyle adjustments you must make.” Kori stated as she pressed the controls to release the bed's restraints. Tyr slowly sat up and hung his legs off the edge of the bed as he listened.
“The first thing is sleep. The average Nietzschean gets three to four hours of sleep per twenty four hour period. With Humans, they need at the very least seven hours to function optimally. You will have to plan your days around getting enough rest. With eating there will be another change. I know Nietzscheans are healthy eaters but Humans must watch their caloric intake, because the Human body is not as well equipped to metabolize foods like a Nietzschean's. You must be sure to restrict your fats, sugars and salts. . . .
. . . . . .Stick to a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables and drink plenty of water. Just in case I've put together a supplement package for you to take daily. As for exercising, you are really going to have to watch how you work out. Obviously you will not be able to lift the same amount of weight you used to as a Nietzschean. . . .”
Kori trailed off as she and everyone present watched as Tyr gazed at his naked forearms, sans boneblades. Tamara gazed at Xena, who gazed at Gilgamesh, then Fatou.
“Tyr, are you going to be okay?” Fatou asked.
“I am fine, Councilor Fatou.” Tyr replied.
“As I was saying, you are going to have to be very careful with your workouts. What ever poundage you used to lift, you will have to either half or quarter it. It would not do for you to severely injure yourself in the gym. In fact, Gilgamesh has volunteered to be your spotter/trainer for the duration until you get your powers back. No crazy feats of heroism for you for the next three months. You are no longer capable of consuming poisons. You can no longer hold your breath for fifteen minutes, you can't breathe toxic gases and if you get hit by phaser fire, it better be on stun.” Kori continued.
“Last but not least, be advised that now you are Human, you are susceptible to a variety of ailments. If you so much as cut your finger, sneeze, cough, have an upset stomach or stomach ache, headache, develop a rash, I don't care how minor, I want your butt down here. You here me?” Kori added as she locked gazes with Tyr.
“Yes, Mother.” Tyr replied so innocently that everyone laughed.
“Don't give me just cause to hunt you down, and enact my Medical Authority over you, Sir.” Kori threatened, as she crossed her arms across her chest and glared at Tyr. Of course, he glared right back.
“This is no time to play the Lone Ranger. We are all willing and able to help you but you have to let us, Tyr.” Fatou said, as she canted her head to the side and gazed at him.
“Alright. Would someone please get me a fresh uniform so I can get out of these silly Sickbay pajamas? I've got a ship to run, and refuse to do so looking like this.” Tyr stated. “That's if it's alright with you, Doctor Kori.” he added, politely.
“But of course. Limited duty for the first three days, and we will play it by ear thereafter.” Kori admonished. Tyr smiled his thanks, took the uniform and boots Tamara handed to him, and made a beeline to the nearest fresher.
Free Enterprise - A Measure Of A Man - Part 2 - #121
Free Enterprise - A Measure Of A Man – Part 2 - #122
The next few hours flew by. At Fatou's suggestion Tamara had two important meetings. One was with her Sister Wives, Gilgamesh, Harper and Monique. They all promised to be present with her to welcome Tyr back to consciousness and to help him as much as possible.
The next meeting was with all of The Insurrection's department heads where Tamara carefully explained Tyr's condition to them. Fatou further explained the importance of informing all of their staff, so that cohesiveness and respect for the Rear Admiral would remain the same.
With Nietzscheans, when males sensed weakness in each other, especially in a high-ranking male like Tyr, there was a chance he would be challenged. Since the Insurrection had a 35% ratio of male Nietzscheans as crew, the command staff needed to firmly nail the issue of loyalty to The Rear Admiral down, right now.
The meeting ended and the department heads filed out. Tamara looked up from her desk and found Kesha standing in front of it.
“Ma'am, may I have a word with you?” she asked.
“Yes, Kesha. What is it?” Tamara asked, as Fatou sat quietly and watched.
“Technically, at warp nine we should have reached Deep Space Ten already, but. . . . .” Kesha started.
“But, what?” Tamara prompted.
”I always hate when there is a but.” Fatou thought.
“We have not yet arrived. In fact, we are no closer to our destination than we were three hours ago.” Kesha replied.
”My, something tells me that we are not going to like hearing the rest of this.” Fatou thought.
“Why not?” Tamara asked.
“As near as I can determine, we seem to be caught up in some kind of time dilation loop which is not allowing us to return to the station.” Kesha replied. “I will need more time to further study the phenomena because the stars are not right.” she continued.
“The stars are not right?” Fatou asked, fascinated.
“Yes, I've flown thousands hours in the Klingon Imperial Navy and for Starfleet and I KNOW our stars. These are not the same stars. I would have to go down to cartography to compare star charts and verify this theory though.” Kesha stated. Tamara nodded because she understood that certain heavenly bodies were guideposts to certain worlds. The Milky Way Galaxy was to Earth, T'Kut and Eridani were to Vulcan, etc. As cutting edge as Starfleet was, they still depended upon the stars to steer by. . . . . .
“Thank you, Kesha. First, you are hereby temporarily relieved of your helm duties. Second, report to Cartography. Third, get back to me with the results, ASAP.” Tamara stated.
“Yes Ma'am.” Kesha replied, and executed a textbook right and left.
Tamara immediately called Gilgamesh and informed him of the changes. He in turn ordered Ensign Anita Coleman to spell Kesha at the helm.
“That bastard!” Tamara cursed, after she had finished. From what she already knew about Q, he was more than capable of doing what Kesha said.
“So, in addition to hamstringing Tyr, Q has placed us in a nice, little goldfish bowl.” Fatou stated. In response, Tamara grumbled something uncomplimentary in Vulcan, which in turn caused Fatou to turn her ears backwards.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the meantime Q sat in his special front row seat with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a tall glass of ice tea on the table next to him.
When Tamara cursed him, Q howled with mirth. However, when Fatou glowered unerringly up at him from where she sat. Q saucily stuck his tongue out at her and continued to laugh.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“You can see him, can't you?” Tamara asked. She'd seen that look on Fatou's face before, and just now realized what it meant.
“No, I cannot see him, but I can sense his presence. He his definitely somewhere close. . . . .” Fatou started.
“. . . . . . and watching us like we are animals in the zoo. I'd love to get my hands on. . . . No, I'll let Tyr take care of him.” Tamara finished.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh! I just cringe with abject terror!” Q mimicked in a falsetto, then laughed himself silly.
* * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, in another part of the multi-verse The Continuum was having an emergency meeting.
“What do you mean you cannot find him?” the presiding female Q asked.
“We simply cannot find him.” a male Q replied.
“This is precisely why I ordered him to be watched. When he disappears like this, it often means trouble. There's no telling what damage he will cause.” the presiding Q said.
“We understand.” the male Q replied.
“I want you to redouble the search. Do not discount the fact that he may have created his own mini-universe in order to have free reign to wield his mischief.” She order.
“Yes, Q.” the male Q replied, as he and thirty-five other Q blinked out of her presence.
The female Q sighed, as she stood.
“I could use a nice, hot mug of Raktigino right now.” she said to herself. She smiled as a steaming mug of the liquid appeared in her hands. “Ah, and in my favorite mug too.” she added. The Starfleet issue, insulated mug, depicted the logo of the U.S.S. Voyager . . . . . . .
Note To Readers: Would anyone hazard to guess who the Lady Q is?
The next few hours flew by. At Fatou's suggestion Tamara had two important meetings. One was with her Sister Wives, Gilgamesh, Harper and Monique. They all promised to be present with her to welcome Tyr back to consciousness and to help him as much as possible.
The next meeting was with all of The Insurrection's department heads where Tamara carefully explained Tyr's condition to them. Fatou further explained the importance of informing all of their staff, so that cohesiveness and respect for the Rear Admiral would remain the same.
With Nietzscheans, when males sensed weakness in each other, especially in a high-ranking male like Tyr, there was a chance he would be challenged. Since the Insurrection had a 35% ratio of male Nietzscheans as crew, the command staff needed to firmly nail the issue of loyalty to The Rear Admiral down, right now.
The meeting ended and the department heads filed out. Tamara looked up from her desk and found Kesha standing in front of it.
“Ma'am, may I have a word with you?” she asked.
“Yes, Kesha. What is it?” Tamara asked, as Fatou sat quietly and watched.
“Technically, at warp nine we should have reached Deep Space Ten already, but. . . . .” Kesha started.
“But, what?” Tamara prompted.
”I always hate when there is a but.” Fatou thought.
“We have not yet arrived. In fact, we are no closer to our destination than we were three hours ago.” Kesha replied.
”My, something tells me that we are not going to like hearing the rest of this.” Fatou thought.
“Why not?” Tamara asked.
“As near as I can determine, we seem to be caught up in some kind of time dilation loop which is not allowing us to return to the station.” Kesha replied. “I will need more time to further study the phenomena because the stars are not right.” she continued.
“The stars are not right?” Fatou asked, fascinated.
“Yes, I've flown thousands hours in the Klingon Imperial Navy and for Starfleet and I KNOW our stars. These are not the same stars. I would have to go down to cartography to compare star charts and verify this theory though.” Kesha stated. Tamara nodded because she understood that certain heavenly bodies were guideposts to certain worlds. The Milky Way Galaxy was to Earth, T'Kut and Eridani were to Vulcan, etc. As cutting edge as Starfleet was, they still depended upon the stars to steer by. . . . . .
“Thank you, Kesha. First, you are hereby temporarily relieved of your helm duties. Second, report to Cartography. Third, get back to me with the results, ASAP.” Tamara stated.
“Yes Ma'am.” Kesha replied, and executed a textbook right and left.
Tamara immediately called Gilgamesh and informed him of the changes. He in turn ordered Ensign Anita Coleman to spell Kesha at the helm.
“That bastard!” Tamara cursed, after she had finished. From what she already knew about Q, he was more than capable of doing what Kesha said.
“So, in addition to hamstringing Tyr, Q has placed us in a nice, little goldfish bowl.” Fatou stated. In response, Tamara grumbled something uncomplimentary in Vulcan, which in turn caused Fatou to turn her ears backwards.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the meantime Q sat in his special front row seat with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a tall glass of ice tea on the table next to him.
When Tamara cursed him, Q howled with mirth. However, when Fatou glowered unerringly up at him from where she sat. Q saucily stuck his tongue out at her and continued to laugh.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“You can see him, can't you?” Tamara asked. She'd seen that look on Fatou's face before, and just now realized what it meant.
“No, I cannot see him, but I can sense his presence. He his definitely somewhere close. . . . .” Fatou started.
“. . . . . . and watching us like we are animals in the zoo. I'd love to get my hands on. . . . No, I'll let Tyr take care of him.” Tamara finished.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Oh! I just cringe with abject terror!” Q mimicked in a falsetto, then laughed himself silly.
* * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, in another part of the multi-verse The Continuum was having an emergency meeting.
“What do you mean you cannot find him?” the presiding female Q asked.
“We simply cannot find him.” a male Q replied.
“This is precisely why I ordered him to be watched. When he disappears like this, it often means trouble. There's no telling what damage he will cause.” the presiding Q said.
“We understand.” the male Q replied.
“I want you to redouble the search. Do not discount the fact that he may have created his own mini-universe in order to have free reign to wield his mischief.” She order.
“Yes, Q.” the male Q replied, as he and thirty-five other Q blinked out of her presence.
The female Q sighed, as she stood.
“I could use a nice, hot mug of Raktigino right now.” she said to herself. She smiled as a steaming mug of the liquid appeared in her hands. “Ah, and in my favorite mug too.” she added. The Starfleet issue, insulated mug, depicted the logo of the U.S.S. Voyager . . . . . . .
Note To Readers: Would anyone hazard to guess who the Lady Q is?
Friday, September 30, 2011
Free Enterprise - The Measure Of A Man Chapter #120
Free Enterprise - The Measure Of A Man - #120
Tamara arrived in Sickbay on the run like a sprinter busting through the Finish Line tape at the Olympics.
Only in the General Ward there was no sign of neither Kori nor Tyr. Nurse Jennings looked up from her station, saw The Captain's distressed expression and pointed.
“They're in Isolation.” she said. Tamara wordlessly hurried into the appropriate direction.
OMG! Isolation? Why Isolation?” she wondered frantically as she forced herself to walk.
She ran up to the clear steel barrier and watched as Kori ( who was suited up in “clean garb” ), gave a still unconscious Tyr, hypo after hypo while Ada held the collection tray.
“Please give me a few minutes and I will be out to talk to you, Captain.” Kori said finally. Her voice sounding flat and toneless coming from the helmet's speaker.
“Is. . . . . .is he. . . . .” Tamara asked.
“He is fine for now. He just needs to rest.” Kori said as she held up her right hand up, fingers spread apart, meaning “Give me five”.
While waiting Tamara noticed a pile of clothing in the corner. Upon further investigation she found the remnants of Tyr's uniform. Due to the extreme emergency Kori was forced to use one of her surgical lasers to cut it off, before placing him in the chamber. Only his bone blade gauntlets and Double Helix remained in tact. Tamara picked the three items up and clutched the to her chest.
“Captain, please come with me.” Kori's voice said from behind her, startling Tamara. Tamara looked back and Koris was dressed in her normal uniform, including her white coat. She ushered the Vulcan Captain into her office and they both sat. Thankfully Darwin was no where to be found.
“What happened?” Tamara asked as she laid the boneblade gauntlets and the Double Helix down on Kori's desk and gazed into the Klingon's dark brown eyes.
“Captain, in order for me to tell you what's wrong with Tyr, you must first tell me what happened.” Kori stated.
“It all happened so fast. I don't know if I could do due diligence with just words.” Tamara replied.
“Try me, Captain.” Kori said.
“We had just concluded that this mission was a rouse and that we had been lured out here by some unknown force when Q showed up.” Tamara replied.
“Q! That explains it perfectly.” Kori said.
“What? What do you mean?” Tamara asked.
“Continue the story please, Captain.” Kori continued.
“The second Tyr had gotten an inkling that there was an intruder on the bridge and brought his phaser up to fire, Q showed up and froze everyone in place.” Tamara continued.
“Did Tyr get off a shot?” Kori asked.
“Yes he did, but Q did some kind of hokus-pokus and the phaser fire dissipated into some kind of harmless smoke.” Tamara replied.
“Go on. What did Q say?” Kori encouraged.
“A lot of stuff deriding Tyr for thinking he is superior because he is Nietzschean, and wondering how would he survive if he were a mere man. . . . .. Then he snapped his fingers and Tyr just collapsed. Q disappeared, and here we are. So what happened to Tyr?” Tamara asked, feeling panic rising in her chest.
“I'm going to make a professional call and ask someone else in on this meeting. Do you mind?” Kori asked, as she reached for her desk communicator button.
“Doctor Kori to Lieutenant Commander Fatou.” Kori called, not bothering to hear Tamara's answer.
“Fatou here.” was the answer, from the second and feminine half of the Khan family.
“I need to see you in my office, STAT!” Kori said.
“I'm on my way.” was the answer.
Less than a minute later Fatou bounded into Kori's office.
“Gee, she must have come on all fours to get here that fast.” Tamara thought, remembering Tyr told her Katay used their handpaws in extreme emergencies.
Fatou took in the situation, pulled up a chair close to, sat next Tamara and took her left hand into her handpaws. All while Kori gave her a brief rundown of what had happened to Tyr.
“So what really happened to Tyr?” Tamara asked once Kori had finished.
“It would seem that Q has made good on his promise to not only put Tyr to the test, but to return in three months to see how he has done.” Kori replied.
“Put Tyr to the test how?” Tamara asked as she frowned. “I don't understand.” she continued as Fatou gasped.
“What? What is is Fatou?” Tamara asked.
“Q has stripped Tyr of his powers.” Fatou replied.
“What. . . . . .he WHAT?” Tamara burst out, as her mouth sagged open in disbelief. She looked at Kori for help and saw the Klingon Chief Medical Officer was wearing a deadly serious expression.
“Fatou, is absolutely correct, Tamara.” Kori stated. “From what I recall about Q, he is an omnipotent being. Only he was capable of doing what was done to Tyr. He has literally stripped the Nietzschean genetic enhancements from Tyr's body leaving him to be a normal Human Being for the next three months.” she continued.
“OMG . . . . .You mean Q restructured Tyr's entire genetic framework?!” gasped Tamara, as her eyes widened.
“Yes, he has. Even worse, when Q stripped Tyr of his powers, his unique Nietzschean immunity was also removed. He was left wide open to every infection known to mankind. That is why I immediately placed him in isolation and gave him a series of 75 inoculations. He was so bereft of immunity he could have died from the common cold. . . . . . Thank Kreeth I caught it in time.” Kori continued.
“OMG! Tamara gasped, as tears streamed down her face. "How long does he have to stay in isolation?” she continued.
“It will take roughly twenty four hours for boosters and inoculations to kick in. Then Tyr will be free to return to duty in a limited capacity. In the meantime I've given him a sedative so he can rest.” Kori said.
“Limited capacity? Why limited capacity?” Tamara asked.
“I will leave it up to Tyr to personally decide whether his is capable of handling full duty in his condition. Remember, he will have to live a very different life now that he is Human. I'm not saying he is no longer a Nietzschean or child of Barbarossa and Victoria. I'm just making it clear that he is different now and will have to make serious adjustments.” Kori continued.
“Tyr was intentionally handicapped.” Tamara stated.
“Yes, he was.” Fatou agreed.
“Q! If you are watching us now, you totally suck! If I had the power to do so I would kick your butt from the Alpha to the Delta Quadrant and back again!” Tamara yelled as she shook her fist at the ceiling. While Kori gazed at poor Tamara as if she had lost her mind, Fatou frowned and gazed at the same spot in the ceiling.
* * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, somewhere in the multi-verse amphitheater, Q stuck his tongue out at, and laughed hysterically in response to Tamara's defiant behavior.
* * * * * * * *
Tamara wanted to see Tyr one more time before she went back on duty. She was currently standing at the clear steel Isolation ward bulkhead with her nose pressed against barrier, as she gazed at her consort. He was still out cold, and a brief mind touch made sure all was okay. Tamara smiles as she watched Ada do a final check of his vitals, tuck a blanket around him and turn on what everyone in Sickbay nick-named The Sleep Machine.
It played a variety of sounds to relax and induce sleep. Currently, Ada selected Island Paradise for Tyr. Tamara's sharp ears picked up the sound of waves crashing against the shore and seagull calls.
“Don't worry, Babe. We'll get through this together.” she whispered and smiled through her tears.
Fatou, who had come with Tamara and was standing off to the side to give her privacy. The Katay Tigeress suddenly turned and glowered up at the ceiling.
* * * * * * * * * *
From his private box in the multi-verse Q clapped and laughed with delight.
“Awwwww! Ain't that sweeeeeet! Oh! This is turning out to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be!” Q exclaimed, as he dry-washed his hands with glee.
FATOU
Tamara arrived in Sickbay on the run like a sprinter busting through the Finish Line tape at the Olympics.
Only in the General Ward there was no sign of neither Kori nor Tyr. Nurse Jennings looked up from her station, saw The Captain's distressed expression and pointed.
“They're in Isolation.” she said. Tamara wordlessly hurried into the appropriate direction.
OMG! Isolation? Why Isolation?” she wondered frantically as she forced herself to walk.
She ran up to the clear steel barrier and watched as Kori ( who was suited up in “clean garb” ), gave a still unconscious Tyr, hypo after hypo while Ada held the collection tray.
“Please give me a few minutes and I will be out to talk to you, Captain.” Kori said finally. Her voice sounding flat and toneless coming from the helmet's speaker.
“Is. . . . . .is he. . . . .” Tamara asked.
“He is fine for now. He just needs to rest.” Kori said as she held up her right hand up, fingers spread apart, meaning “Give me five”.
While waiting Tamara noticed a pile of clothing in the corner. Upon further investigation she found the remnants of Tyr's uniform. Due to the extreme emergency Kori was forced to use one of her surgical lasers to cut it off, before placing him in the chamber. Only his bone blade gauntlets and Double Helix remained in tact. Tamara picked the three items up and clutched the to her chest.
“Captain, please come with me.” Kori's voice said from behind her, startling Tamara. Tamara looked back and Koris was dressed in her normal uniform, including her white coat. She ushered the Vulcan Captain into her office and they both sat. Thankfully Darwin was no where to be found.
“What happened?” Tamara asked as she laid the boneblade gauntlets and the Double Helix down on Kori's desk and gazed into the Klingon's dark brown eyes.
“Captain, in order for me to tell you what's wrong with Tyr, you must first tell me what happened.” Kori stated.
“It all happened so fast. I don't know if I could do due diligence with just words.” Tamara replied.
“Try me, Captain.” Kori said.
“We had just concluded that this mission was a rouse and that we had been lured out here by some unknown force when Q showed up.” Tamara replied.
“Q! That explains it perfectly.” Kori said.
“What? What do you mean?” Tamara asked.
“Continue the story please, Captain.” Kori continued.
“The second Tyr had gotten an inkling that there was an intruder on the bridge and brought his phaser up to fire, Q showed up and froze everyone in place.” Tamara continued.
“Did Tyr get off a shot?” Kori asked.
“Yes he did, but Q did some kind of hokus-pokus and the phaser fire dissipated into some kind of harmless smoke.” Tamara replied.
“Go on. What did Q say?” Kori encouraged.
“A lot of stuff deriding Tyr for thinking he is superior because he is Nietzschean, and wondering how would he survive if he were a mere man. . . . .. Then he snapped his fingers and Tyr just collapsed. Q disappeared, and here we are. So what happened to Tyr?” Tamara asked, feeling panic rising in her chest.
“I'm going to make a professional call and ask someone else in on this meeting. Do you mind?” Kori asked, as she reached for her desk communicator button.
“Doctor Kori to Lieutenant Commander Fatou.” Kori called, not bothering to hear Tamara's answer.
“Fatou here.” was the answer, from the second and feminine half of the Khan family.
“I need to see you in my office, STAT!” Kori said.
“I'm on my way.” was the answer.
Less than a minute later Fatou bounded into Kori's office.
“Gee, she must have come on all fours to get here that fast.” Tamara thought, remembering Tyr told her Katay used their handpaws in extreme emergencies.
Fatou took in the situation, pulled up a chair close to, sat next Tamara and took her left hand into her handpaws. All while Kori gave her a brief rundown of what had happened to Tyr.
“So what really happened to Tyr?” Tamara asked once Kori had finished.
“It would seem that Q has made good on his promise to not only put Tyr to the test, but to return in three months to see how he has done.” Kori replied.
“Put Tyr to the test how?” Tamara asked as she frowned. “I don't understand.” she continued as Fatou gasped.
“What? What is is Fatou?” Tamara asked.
“Q has stripped Tyr of his powers.” Fatou replied.
“What. . . . . .he WHAT?” Tamara burst out, as her mouth sagged open in disbelief. She looked at Kori for help and saw the Klingon Chief Medical Officer was wearing a deadly serious expression.
“Fatou, is absolutely correct, Tamara.” Kori stated. “From what I recall about Q, he is an omnipotent being. Only he was capable of doing what was done to Tyr. He has literally stripped the Nietzschean genetic enhancements from Tyr's body leaving him to be a normal Human Being for the next three months.” she continued.
“OMG . . . . .You mean Q restructured Tyr's entire genetic framework?!” gasped Tamara, as her eyes widened.
“Yes, he has. Even worse, when Q stripped Tyr of his powers, his unique Nietzschean immunity was also removed. He was left wide open to every infection known to mankind. That is why I immediately placed him in isolation and gave him a series of 75 inoculations. He was so bereft of immunity he could have died from the common cold. . . . . . Thank Kreeth I caught it in time.” Kori continued.
“OMG! Tamara gasped, as tears streamed down her face. "How long does he have to stay in isolation?” she continued.
“It will take roughly twenty four hours for boosters and inoculations to kick in. Then Tyr will be free to return to duty in a limited capacity. In the meantime I've given him a sedative so he can rest.” Kori said.
“Limited capacity? Why limited capacity?” Tamara asked.
“I will leave it up to Tyr to personally decide whether his is capable of handling full duty in his condition. Remember, he will have to live a very different life now that he is Human. I'm not saying he is no longer a Nietzschean or child of Barbarossa and Victoria. I'm just making it clear that he is different now and will have to make serious adjustments.” Kori continued.
“Tyr was intentionally handicapped.” Tamara stated.
“Yes, he was.” Fatou agreed.
“Q! If you are watching us now, you totally suck! If I had the power to do so I would kick your butt from the Alpha to the Delta Quadrant and back again!” Tamara yelled as she shook her fist at the ceiling. While Kori gazed at poor Tamara as if she had lost her mind, Fatou frowned and gazed at the same spot in the ceiling.
* * * * * * * *
Meanwhile, somewhere in the multi-verse amphitheater, Q stuck his tongue out at, and laughed hysterically in response to Tamara's defiant behavior.
* * * * * * * *
Tamara wanted to see Tyr one more time before she went back on duty. She was currently standing at the clear steel Isolation ward bulkhead with her nose pressed against barrier, as she gazed at her consort. He was still out cold, and a brief mind touch made sure all was okay. Tamara smiles as she watched Ada do a final check of his vitals, tuck a blanket around him and turn on what everyone in Sickbay nick-named The Sleep Machine.
It played a variety of sounds to relax and induce sleep. Currently, Ada selected Island Paradise for Tyr. Tamara's sharp ears picked up the sound of waves crashing against the shore and seagull calls.
“Don't worry, Babe. We'll get through this together.” she whispered and smiled through her tears.
Fatou, who had come with Tamara and was standing off to the side to give her privacy. The Katay Tigeress suddenly turned and glowered up at the ceiling.
* * * * * * * * * *
From his private box in the multi-verse Q clapped and laughed with delight.
“Awwwww! Ain't that sweeeeeet! Oh! This is turning out to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be!” Q exclaimed, as he dry-washed his hands with glee.
FATOU
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Free Enterprise - Red Alert - Part 2 - Chapter #119
Free Enterprise - Red Alert – Part Two - #119
Meanwhile, back at Deep Space Ten, Haxhis had just received the bad news. Captain Dillon Hunt, of The Louisiana, had just finished giving her an extensive report
“We did repeated sector by sector grid searchs and have not found so much as a neutrino. The Insurrection just disappeared." Captain Hunt completed. "I respectfully request permission to remain and continue the search in case we find her.” he continued, after a moment of stunned silence..
“I understand your deep concern for your friend, Captain. However, we have an emerging health crisis in the Bantola Sector, and I must divert the fleet. I will allow you to select one ship to remain with you, the rest will be tasked with the mission to Avon Six.” HaxHis replied.
“Then I will take the Ticonderoga.” Dillon replied.
“Excellent. In the meantime I will see if any of the other Starfleet members can offer their services.” HaxHis said.
Deep Space Ten was still understaffed and did not have the full compliment of her own ships yet. Until the station did, HaxHis would have to sparingly use what resources she did have.
“Perhaps the Vulcans, or the Klingons, but whomever they are, they will be strictly under your command while they are in the search area. So look for someone to arrive as soon as possible.” she continued.
“Understood Ma'am.” Dillon replied.
“Captain, please keep me posted.” HaxHis said.
“Will do, Ma'am.” Dillon replied, then cut the communication.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Conversation ended. Haxhis looked up at those sitting in her office.
“Well, you've heard the entire ugly story.” HaxHis stated.
“How does an Nova Class Starfleet Vessel just up and disappear like that?” Captain Joshua Miranda asked.
“The more correct query is, how does the USS Insurrection with Rear Admiral Anasazi who also happens to be the Nietzschean Viceroy simply disappear?” Captain Skonn corrected, as everyone winced inwardly.
“More succinctly, what are we going to tell the Nietzschean Queen Mother?” Khan corrected even further.
“I will personally inform Victoria. However, I want to maintain a news lock down on this incident for as long as possible. I realize the news will eventually get out, but if we can damper it enough to prevent panic. . . “ Haxhis started.
“Forgive me, Ma'am, but I was informed by Lieutenant Hardock that Melissa Culpepper and her INN crew managed to stow away on The Rear Admiral's ship.” Elin Turr, Deep Space Ten's Bajoran head of security interjected. “Since she is the main source of news in this quadrant. . . . . . .” the heavily muscled, thrice wounded, former Bajoran Resistance leader, continued as his earring flashed in the room's light.
“Stowaways! I thought Starfleet had safeguards in place against those!” HaxHis hotly interrupted.
“There are. However, in station wide alerts with thousands of officers running for their assigned ships, there is always a chance, it can and will happen.” Turr replied.
“And occasionally someone essential gets left behind.” Khan interjected. Haxhis sighed and shook her maned head.
“Gentleman you have your orders and you are dismissed. Commander Khan, please remain.” Haxhis stated. Captain's Skonn, Miranda and Commander Elin Turr filed out and she waited until the door shut behind them.
“How are you feeling, Khan?” Haxhis asked. She often wondered about those who made a life's career out of counseling others. Who counseled them?
“I am fine, thank you. However, I am deeply concerned for my Pride Brother's welfare.” Khan replied.
“Understood. And the children?” Haxhis asked.
“They are overjoyed that they will be spending so much time with their Dad.” he replied, as he pulled back his whiskers with mirth.
“You knew this would happen, didn't you?” Haxhis pressed.
Though Haxhis was a Katay, and not one of the “gifted”, she'd learned to recognize and deeply respect those who were. As a rule, she never pried into what Khan's precog visions were about, unless it was an extreme emergency. This was without a doubt one of those. . . . . . . .
“Yes I did,” was Khan's simple answer.
“Will he live?” she asked, referring to their mutual friend, Tyr.
“Yes, he will. But, as gold tried by fire.” Khan replied in his sage manner. Haxhis had the similar reaction Tyr would get. The fur on her back stood on end. No one saw it because she wore a Starfleet issue vest.
“When will. . . . . . “ she started.
“We must wait and trust the wisdom of the Divine.” Khan replied, cutting her off.
“In the meantime, what do we do with those who will clamor for, demand answers and action?” Haxhis queried, knowing she was going to be directly in the line of fire for a major political dust up.
“We wait.” Khan replied, sagely.
“Divine help us!” Haxhis said.
"Divine help us, indeed." Khan repeated.
Meanwhile, back at Deep Space Ten, Haxhis had just received the bad news. Captain Dillon Hunt, of The Louisiana, had just finished giving her an extensive report
“We did repeated sector by sector grid searchs and have not found so much as a neutrino. The Insurrection just disappeared." Captain Hunt completed. "I respectfully request permission to remain and continue the search in case we find her.” he continued, after a moment of stunned silence..
“I understand your deep concern for your friend, Captain. However, we have an emerging health crisis in the Bantola Sector, and I must divert the fleet. I will allow you to select one ship to remain with you, the rest will be tasked with the mission to Avon Six.” HaxHis replied.
“Then I will take the Ticonderoga.” Dillon replied.
“Excellent. In the meantime I will see if any of the other Starfleet members can offer their services.” HaxHis said.
Deep Space Ten was still understaffed and did not have the full compliment of her own ships yet. Until the station did, HaxHis would have to sparingly use what resources she did have.
“Perhaps the Vulcans, or the Klingons, but whomever they are, they will be strictly under your command while they are in the search area. So look for someone to arrive as soon as possible.” she continued.
“Understood Ma'am.” Dillon replied.
“Captain, please keep me posted.” HaxHis said.
“Will do, Ma'am.” Dillon replied, then cut the communication.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Conversation ended. Haxhis looked up at those sitting in her office.
“Well, you've heard the entire ugly story.” HaxHis stated.
“How does an Nova Class Starfleet Vessel just up and disappear like that?” Captain Joshua Miranda asked.
“The more correct query is, how does the USS Insurrection with Rear Admiral Anasazi who also happens to be the Nietzschean Viceroy simply disappear?” Captain Skonn corrected, as everyone winced inwardly.
“More succinctly, what are we going to tell the Nietzschean Queen Mother?” Khan corrected even further.
“I will personally inform Victoria. However, I want to maintain a news lock down on this incident for as long as possible. I realize the news will eventually get out, but if we can damper it enough to prevent panic. . . “ Haxhis started.
“Forgive me, Ma'am, but I was informed by Lieutenant Hardock that Melissa Culpepper and her INN crew managed to stow away on The Rear Admiral's ship.” Elin Turr, Deep Space Ten's Bajoran head of security interjected. “Since she is the main source of news in this quadrant. . . . . . .” the heavily muscled, thrice wounded, former Bajoran Resistance leader, continued as his earring flashed in the room's light.
“Stowaways! I thought Starfleet had safeguards in place against those!” HaxHis hotly interrupted.
“There are. However, in station wide alerts with thousands of officers running for their assigned ships, there is always a chance, it can and will happen.” Turr replied.
“And occasionally someone essential gets left behind.” Khan interjected. Haxhis sighed and shook her maned head.
“Gentleman you have your orders and you are dismissed. Commander Khan, please remain.” Haxhis stated. Captain's Skonn, Miranda and Commander Elin Turr filed out and she waited until the door shut behind them.
“How are you feeling, Khan?” Haxhis asked. She often wondered about those who made a life's career out of counseling others. Who counseled them?
“I am fine, thank you. However, I am deeply concerned for my Pride Brother's welfare.” Khan replied.
“Understood. And the children?” Haxhis asked.
“They are overjoyed that they will be spending so much time with their Dad.” he replied, as he pulled back his whiskers with mirth.
“You knew this would happen, didn't you?” Haxhis pressed.
Though Haxhis was a Katay, and not one of the “gifted”, she'd learned to recognize and deeply respect those who were. As a rule, she never pried into what Khan's precog visions were about, unless it was an extreme emergency. This was without a doubt one of those. . . . . . . .
“Yes I did,” was Khan's simple answer.
“Will he live?” she asked, referring to their mutual friend, Tyr.
“Yes, he will. But, as gold tried by fire.” Khan replied in his sage manner. Haxhis had the similar reaction Tyr would get. The fur on her back stood on end. No one saw it because she wore a Starfleet issue vest.
“When will. . . . . . “ she started.
“We must wait and trust the wisdom of the Divine.” Khan replied, cutting her off.
“In the meantime, what do we do with those who will clamor for, demand answers and action?” Haxhis queried, knowing she was going to be directly in the line of fire for a major political dust up.
“We wait.” Khan replied, sagely.
“Divine help us!” Haxhis said.
"Divine help us, indeed." Khan repeated.
Free Enterprise - Busy As A Bee - Chapter #117
Free Enterprise - Busy As A Bee - #117
The rest of the day was a flurry of activity for Tyr. He spent the rest of the morning and afternoon supervising the onloading of supplies and food for Avon Six. Thus assured that everything had been secured according to his specifications, he took a break. Sort of.
Tyr worked out, did some intense studying of Dolgarian history and culture, prepared then had dinner with his family.
Both Alexander and Lysander were so overjoyed to see him that they attached themselves to him like barnacles. You would've thought he didn't see his sons on a regular daily basis the way they behaved.
Needless to say, Tyr was equally delighted with the adoration of his sons. Xena smiled as she got an impromptu break as they roughhoused with their Dad.
* * * * * * * * * *
Later after dinner and family time, Tyr took time out to spend with Tamara. For a long time they didn't say a word to one another. Verbally or mentally.
”I know what happened to Solon.” Tamara finally thought.
”That my dear one, is not common knowledge.” Tyr replied.
”You forget, Tyr, I'm always in your head.” she said, as she gently tapped his forehead with her right forefinger.”What do you think Haxhis will do?” she continued.
”She has already questioned me as extensively as she could. She will now dutifully investigate, but she will either find nothing and give up the search or be ordered to give up. There are times in life where one is both out classed and out gunned. This will be hers.” Tyr replied.
”Ordered to give up? By whom?” Tamara asked. One had to be in a lofty place indeed, in order to order a Fleet Admiral about. Tyr did not answer but Tamara got a clear mental impression of “whom”.
”OMG! Did THEY order you to take Solon out?” she queried.
”They gave me free reign to take care of the matter as I saw fit. Had I not, they were prepared to do so in my stead.” Tyr replied.
”Wow! This all makes me wonder if Solon was even Vulcan. I mean he could've been some crazy Vulcan/Romulan hybrid, or brainwashed or something. . . . Tamara started.
”. . . . . . . . . we'll never know. Does it really matter now that he no longer exists?” Tyr asked.
”No, it doesn't.” she replied, as she gazed at her consort. He gazed back and tenderly kissed her.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile HaxHis sat back in her chair, stared at at her blank desk console screen and frowned. She'd just had a very strange and interesting conversation with Commodore Carmello Ramirez of Section 31. And it went thus:
”Commodore. Initially when I first informed you of the situation at hand, you promised agents would be dispatched to remove the specified property. It is now two days past the arrival date. I am just checking to make sure they are still due to arrive.” HaxHis asked.
“Ma'am, our agents already arrived, took possession of said property and are currently on their way back to Earth.” Commodore Ramirez replied. HaxHis was flabbergasted.
“Commodore, we agreed your operatives were to inform me of their arrival. . . . . .” HaxHis replied.
“. . . . . . . Meaning no disrespect, Ma'am, but that would utterly defeat the purpose of being a clandestine organization in the first place.” the Commodore said, effectively cutting HaxHis off. The Commodore and the Fleet Admiral stared wordlessly at each other for a minute.
“Dammit all to Human Hell! That means despite my rank, they don't have to tell me squat.” HaxHis thought, angrily.
Since there was nothing more to say. Both The Commodore and The Fleet Admiral bid each other a pleasant day, and signed off.
”No wonder Tyr was so tight-lipped about the discs being safe. I thought he merely had them safe in his possession. However, Tyr claimed they were safe because he had confiscated them then handed them over to a Section 31 operative or operatives. As for Team Rahan mysteriously falling ill and the equally mysterious disappearance of Solon. . . . . . . . .
I wonder, could it be that Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi is a Section 31 field operative?” HaxHis mused as she frowned again.
She would not dear ask the Nietzschean this, because 1) As Commodore Ramirez stated, Section 31 was a clandestine organization and no one in Starfleet and/or the Federation admitted it existed. 2) No one in their right mind admitted they were part of it or any of their so-called operations.
”If Tyr is one of their operatives, I hope he snapped Solon's worthless neck like a chicken's.” HaxHis thought fiercely to herself, then went back to her work.
The Fleet Admiral, like Captain Tamara McPhearson and Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi had no love for the Vulcan turncoat, and thus was not sorry to see him gone.
[i]"Now about Solon's widows. . . . ." HaxHis thought as she called up their service records.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Tamara had finally fallen asleep. Tyr had sonic showered, dressed and crept out and went to see Desi.
Despite the lateness of the hour Desdemona Anasazi was still awake and attending last minute packing details. Both she and Tyr gazed at each other.
“Desi, why are you still awake? You need to be rested to travel with Tamara, tomorrow.” Tyr chided.
“You caught me, Tyr. Truth is, I'm not a good traveler. I usually don't sleep well before a flight. Rather than waste time tossing and turning all night, I prefer to do something constructive.” Desi said, as she double checked a bag of baby goods and infant wear.
“What if I gave you a massage?” Tyr asked, with just the hint of flirt in his voice. Needless to say, Desi dropped what she was doing for a much more tempting offer.
* * * * * * * * *
Hours later, it was Desi who was giving Tyr a massage. Tyr finally relaxed and settled into a deep sleep. Desi curled up against his back and finally dozed off too.
The rest of the day was a flurry of activity for Tyr. He spent the rest of the morning and afternoon supervising the onloading of supplies and food for Avon Six. Thus assured that everything had been secured according to his specifications, he took a break. Sort of.
Tyr worked out, did some intense studying of Dolgarian history and culture, prepared then had dinner with his family.
Both Alexander and Lysander were so overjoyed to see him that they attached themselves to him like barnacles. You would've thought he didn't see his sons on a regular daily basis the way they behaved.
Needless to say, Tyr was equally delighted with the adoration of his sons. Xena smiled as she got an impromptu break as they roughhoused with their Dad.
* * * * * * * * * *
Later after dinner and family time, Tyr took time out to spend with Tamara. For a long time they didn't say a word to one another. Verbally or mentally.
”I know what happened to Solon.” Tamara finally thought.
”That my dear one, is not common knowledge.” Tyr replied.
”You forget, Tyr, I'm always in your head.” she said, as she gently tapped his forehead with her right forefinger.”What do you think Haxhis will do?” she continued.
”She has already questioned me as extensively as she could. She will now dutifully investigate, but she will either find nothing and give up the search or be ordered to give up. There are times in life where one is both out classed and out gunned. This will be hers.” Tyr replied.
”Ordered to give up? By whom?” Tamara asked. One had to be in a lofty place indeed, in order to order a Fleet Admiral about. Tyr did not answer but Tamara got a clear mental impression of “whom”.
”OMG! Did THEY order you to take Solon out?” she queried.
”They gave me free reign to take care of the matter as I saw fit. Had I not, they were prepared to do so in my stead.” Tyr replied.
”Wow! This all makes me wonder if Solon was even Vulcan. I mean he could've been some crazy Vulcan/Romulan hybrid, or brainwashed or something. . . . Tamara started.
”. . . . . . . . . we'll never know. Does it really matter now that he no longer exists?” Tyr asked.
”No, it doesn't.” she replied, as she gazed at her consort. He gazed back and tenderly kissed her.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile HaxHis sat back in her chair, stared at at her blank desk console screen and frowned. She'd just had a very strange and interesting conversation with Commodore Carmello Ramirez of Section 31. And it went thus:
”Commodore. Initially when I first informed you of the situation at hand, you promised agents would be dispatched to remove the specified property. It is now two days past the arrival date. I am just checking to make sure they are still due to arrive.” HaxHis asked.
“Ma'am, our agents already arrived, took possession of said property and are currently on their way back to Earth.” Commodore Ramirez replied. HaxHis was flabbergasted.
“Commodore, we agreed your operatives were to inform me of their arrival. . . . . .” HaxHis replied.
“. . . . . . . Meaning no disrespect, Ma'am, but that would utterly defeat the purpose of being a clandestine organization in the first place.” the Commodore said, effectively cutting HaxHis off. The Commodore and the Fleet Admiral stared wordlessly at each other for a minute.
“Dammit all to Human Hell! That means despite my rank, they don't have to tell me squat.” HaxHis thought, angrily.
Since there was nothing more to say. Both The Commodore and The Fleet Admiral bid each other a pleasant day, and signed off.
”No wonder Tyr was so tight-lipped about the discs being safe. I thought he merely had them safe in his possession. However, Tyr claimed they were safe because he had confiscated them then handed them over to a Section 31 operative or operatives. As for Team Rahan mysteriously falling ill and the equally mysterious disappearance of Solon. . . . . . . . .
I wonder, could it be that Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi is a Section 31 field operative?” HaxHis mused as she frowned again.
She would not dear ask the Nietzschean this, because 1) As Commodore Ramirez stated, Section 31 was a clandestine organization and no one in Starfleet and/or the Federation admitted it existed. 2) No one in their right mind admitted they were part of it or any of their so-called operations.
”If Tyr is one of their operatives, I hope he snapped Solon's worthless neck like a chicken's.” HaxHis thought fiercely to herself, then went back to her work.
The Fleet Admiral, like Captain Tamara McPhearson and Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi had no love for the Vulcan turncoat, and thus was not sorry to see him gone.
[i]"Now about Solon's widows. . . . ." HaxHis thought as she called up their service records.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Tamara had finally fallen asleep. Tyr had sonic showered, dressed and crept out and went to see Desi.
Despite the lateness of the hour Desdemona Anasazi was still awake and attending last minute packing details. Both she and Tyr gazed at each other.
“Desi, why are you still awake? You need to be rested to travel with Tamara, tomorrow.” Tyr chided.
“You caught me, Tyr. Truth is, I'm not a good traveler. I usually don't sleep well before a flight. Rather than waste time tossing and turning all night, I prefer to do something constructive.” Desi said, as she double checked a bag of baby goods and infant wear.
“What if I gave you a massage?” Tyr asked, with just the hint of flirt in his voice. Needless to say, Desi dropped what she was doing for a much more tempting offer.
* * * * * * * * *
Hours later, it was Desi who was giving Tyr a massage. Tyr finally relaxed and settled into a deep sleep. Desi curled up against his back and finally dozed off too.
Free Enterprise - The First Goodbye - Chapter #116
Free Enterprise - The First Good Bye - #116
Tyr gave Madre five minutes and left the quad. Only he took the exact opposite direction.
Five minutes later, he arrived at Landing Bay 12 where the starliner Antares was loading up. Amanda spotted him immediately, ran over, dropped her tote bag, bear hugged and kissed her consort. They then gazed into each others eyes.
“I will miss you like crazy.” Amanda said.
“As I you.” Tyr replied. He noted her dropped tote contained the care package he had prepared for her the night before. It it was crammed with healthy snack alternatives that Amanda could munch instead of junk.
“Amanda, I want you to stick to your diet. I don't have to remind you that you are eating for two.” he said.
“Are dried cranberries in there?” she asked, like a curious child. Dried cranberries were her favorite.
“It was supposed to be a surprise. Yes, there are, as well as nutrition bars and. . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Yick! Nutrition bars! Some of them taste like grass!” Amanda said, as she stuck her tongue out in disgust.
“Wheat grass is a excellent source of fiber, but I did not include those.” Tyr said.
“No chocolate?” Amanda asked and pouted.
“No chocolate, Amanda. Carob.” Tyr replied.
“Carob?” Amanda asked.
“It is healthy chocolate. Sans the chemical additives and colorings.” Tyr replied.
“Zounds! You're really serious about this stuff aren't you?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, I am. What about you accommodations?” Tyr asked.
“The Antares makes regular runs to Prometheus so they have special accommodations set up for us. Gravity well quarters and specially designed gyms. So no problems there. I expect to relax for a change.” Amanda replied and smiled.
“Three minutes to Antares departure.” Deep Space Tens computer announced. All around them people bid good bye to loved ones, grabbed bags, totes and hurried towards the gangway.
“Thank you so much, Bo. I love you.” Amanda said as she leaned in and kissed him. Tyr returned it.
“See ya in two months!” she called, as she picked up the tote containing the care package and her other do-dads, and sprinted for her flight.
“All passengers of The Antares for all points, Andor, Bajor, Bollia, Deep Space Seven, Hawkings Station, Vulcan . . . . . Kindly board immediately. We are departing in two minutes.” The Antares steward announced.
Amanda reached the gangway, looked back, waved and threw kisses. Tyr smiled in return. Of course he was well aware that Melissa Culpepper and her INN holo-camera crew were there to document every second of their exchange.
Since his conversation with Amanda did not contain classified information, Tyr had allowed the INN crew to record as much as they wanted.
“It is good to throw the media a bone every so often. Either you do that or they will deliberately dig up something on you.” Barbarossa would warn young Tyr sagely.
Tyr also took comfort in the fact that four of his Ceremonial Guard were traveling with Amanda. Despite the fact she objected to being shadowed and guarded like one of those silly Holo-Serial celebrities. Tyr had convinced her that it was better to be safe than sorry.
* * * * * * * * *
Khan stood off to the side, out of the way of the crowd and rush. He watched Amanda's departure with great sadness in his heart. For he knew there would be certain circumstances which will prevent Amanda from seeing Tyr again for about eight to nine months. Even worse was the fact that according to the Katay Revelational Guide, he was forbidden to tell Tyr these things.
“I can tell him the storm is coming, in order that he may batten down the hatches. But, I cannot tell him whether the storm will be a Tornado, Hurricane, Typhoon, or Nor'Easter. Unfortunately, this one looks like The Perfect Storm.” Khan thought to himself.
* * * * * * * *
Tyr did not like the look on Khan's face when he walked up on the Katay. He also did not like the way Khan's amber feline eyes gazed at him as if he was searching his very soul. Be it far from the Nietzschean to admit fear, but that look gave him the “willies”.
“Are you alright, Khan?” Tyr asked.
“I am fine. And you?” Khan replied. That intense expression had completely disappeared and he'd pulled his whiskers back with mirth.
“I am functioning within established parameters.” Tyr said. An old joke between the two of them.
“Excellent, because HaxHis wants to see you. But, I think you'd better suit up first.” Khan said. Tyr was still dressed in plain clothes.
“Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you there.” Tyr replied as he hurried towards the nearest lift. Ten minutes was more than enough time for Tyr Anazasi to sonic shower, put on fresh uniform and arrive at HaxHis' office.
* * * * * * *
Eight minutes later, Tyr arrived and waited with Khan while HaxHis' Vulcan administrative assistant announced their presence.
“Please go in.” Vulcan woman intoned, stiffly.
“Thank you.” Khan said. He cut his amber eyes at Tyr who grunted softly. Except for his Tamara, Tyr swore he would look at all Vulcans with a jaundiced eye from this day forth.
”I know it is a bad attitude to have, but it is far better to deflect the knife, then to let it stab you in the back outright.” Tyr justified to himself.
The Fleet Admiral and both officers exchanged morning greetings, and HaxHis offered them both refreshments. Both refused.
“Rear Admiral Anazasi, is the package safe?” Haxhis asked without preamble.
“It is safe.” Tyr replied.
“I've received a report that Team Harper has made it past the semi-finals into the finals and third place. They were moved up to second place this morning as the regining champions both suddenly became ill and had to be disqualified. We have offered the Romulan Ambassador our medical services for his son and daughter. But, he insisted on repairing to his own ship, his own personal physician, and leaving for Romulus, post haste. Would you care to elaborate, Tyr?” HaxHis asked.
“No I do not Ma'am.” a stoney faced Tyr replied.
“I've also received a report that Solon is missing. He was supposed to give some kind of symposium earlier and he never showed. Out of concern some of his attendees went to his quarters and found them scrubbed clean as a whistle. There was no trace whatsoever that the man ever existed. The trail goes completely cold after that.” HaxHis continued, and gazed at Tyr. But not a peep came from him.
”I wonder if Section 31 is involved? But, how could they? They are supposed to contact me when they arrive. According to Skonn's estimates, they are not due to arrive until tomorrow, yet. . . . .” HaxHis pondered.
“Ma'am, what of Solon's wives?” Tyr asked, out of the clear blue.
“Under Starfleet regulations, they are considered AWOL and Deserters. If they are ever found they will have to suffer the full consequences of their actions. They will be stripped of rank, their pension, and given a dishonorable discharge from Starfleet.” HaxHis replied.
She didn't mention imprisonment because there was absolutely no prison in the universe that could hold a Nietzschean. So Starfleet's best weapon was to toss the Nietzschean baddies out on their cookies.
"If they love space travel and adventure so much, let them buy a ship and hire themselves out as privateers. she thought.
“What if I can prove their innocence?” Tyr asked.
“If you have sustainable proof, yes. But, Tyr, please tell me you are not just doing this because the ladies in question are Nietzschean citizens and you are the Nietzschean Viceroy. I recall warning you that there will be times when having two major titles can cause a blurring of the boundary line between the two. This looks like one of these times.” HaxHis stated.
”I couldn't have said it better myself. Khan thought.
“I will get you the proof.” Tyr promised and gazed right into Haxhis' eyes. Indeed his word was bond, and by hook or crook, he would have it and possibly the two ladies in question too.
“On to the next item on the list. The pioneer colony on Avon Six. Since the colony was formed under the auspices of the Federation and we are the closest Starbase to them, we are obligated to bring them supplies twice a year. I would like you to head up this next supply mission. You will be leaving two days from now, and in all, the mission, barring unforeseen circumstances, should last about a month.” Haxhis outlined.
“Your fleet will include The Insurrection, The Louisiana, The Ticonderoga, The Cochise, and four additional supply vessels. Even though the Nova and Akira class ships will be along to provide protection, supplies will be loaded into their cargo bays also. Six months can be a very long time on a colony without regular supplies. We are currently working on a deal to make them more often as we get more staff and ships.” she continued.
“As with all supply missions, we always welcome anyone “who wants to return to society”, so to speak.” she said, finally.
There was nothing like living on a colony world, missing all you loved, and coming to the conclusion: “If I had a way off this rock, I would be gone in a heartbeat!” Also, occasionally there were those who were too ill or too injured to stay.
“Acknowledged, Ma'am.” Tyr said. He was a little distressed that he would not be able to spend more time with Tamara and Xena before they left. He already keenly missed Amanda's presence and she hadn't been gone an hour.
“Perhaps I should have dinner with them tonight.” Tyr thought as HaxHis dismissed them.
“Where to, Tyr?” Khan asked, as they took the lift down to the Upper Promenade.
“First, I must have a talk with the Dolgarians.” Tyr replied.
“Tyr, would you mind terribly if I sat this one out? Khan asked. Tyr gazed at his Katay brother.
“Khan, you need to get over it. No you may NOT sit this one out.” Tyr replied.
“Well, if you put it THAT way.” Khan replied.
* * * * * * * *
First order of business was to contact Stripe. All Tyr needed to do is track down any Dolgarian on the station and convey the message. Minutes later, Stripe appeared at Tyr's private table in Stingray Jakk's. She brought along a considerably smaller pack than she'd had the first time they met.
“Woooooo! Admiral Tyr. Wooooo! Commander Khan. It was a good thing Tyr had learned earlier that mini howl was the Dolgarians way of saying “hi”. Again he had to restrain himself from laughing.
”What is it about this race that causes me to want to laugh at them so?” Tyr wondered to himself.
He looked over at Khan, and the Katay could have been a stuffed museum display Tiger. Tyr discreetly gave Khan a poke in his sensitive belly. Khan started, blinked, and gazed at Tyr, his Nietzschean brothers frown was all he needed to straighten up and fly right.
“Greetings Stripe.” Tyr said.
“Greetings Stripe.” Khan said.
“How may we help you?” Stripe asked. For the next hour or so, Tyr sat surrounded by Stripe and her pack as he explained the mysterious disappearance of Solon's wives.
“I will put my best people on it.” Stripe promised.
“I will make sure the proper clearances and the rest of the pertinent information gets to you.” Tyr stated.
“What about payment?” Khan asked.
“We have a vastly different payment system than yours. Dolgarians do not pay for a service until it is rendered and rendered correctly. If it is not rendered according to your specifications, you have the right to reduce the agreed upon payment, or not pay at all. It keeps us honest.” Stripe said as she took out a padd and tabbed it on. “This is the contract.” she said as she handed the padd to Tyr. “You fill in your information here, and place the amount here. Yes, we do take Universal Express.” she continued.
Tyr indicated the amount, tabbed in his Universal Express number and placed his right hand against the pad as his signature. Stripe took the padd from him and pressed her right paw against the padd in like manner. The deal was struck in stone, so to speak.
“How often do you want to receive updates?” Stripe asked.
“Weekly. Please send them to both Deep Space Ten and The Insurrection.” Tyr specified. “If there is a change, I will inform you.” he continued.
“Will do, Sir,” Stripe replied, as she and her pack left.
“Now, that was not so bad, was it, Khan?” Tyr asked, as he opened his menu.
“No it wasn't.” Khan replied. He didn't bother with a menu because he already knew what he wanted. A fish dish.
Tyr had a large bowl of lobster bisque and a salad. Khan had a Mariner's Platter, which contained a selection of shrimp, tilapia. salmon and whiting. Later, after their dishes had been collected by the waitress, both sat back and enjoyed hot cups of Rakktigino,
Now, the two men had time to talk.
“Tyr, what really happened to Solon?” Khan dared to ask.
“He tripped and fell into a sun.” Tyr replied.
Tyr gave Madre five minutes and left the quad. Only he took the exact opposite direction.
Five minutes later, he arrived at Landing Bay 12 where the starliner Antares was loading up. Amanda spotted him immediately, ran over, dropped her tote bag, bear hugged and kissed her consort. They then gazed into each others eyes.
“I will miss you like crazy.” Amanda said.
“As I you.” Tyr replied. He noted her dropped tote contained the care package he had prepared for her the night before. It it was crammed with healthy snack alternatives that Amanda could munch instead of junk.
“Amanda, I want you to stick to your diet. I don't have to remind you that you are eating for two.” he said.
“Are dried cranberries in there?” she asked, like a curious child. Dried cranberries were her favorite.
“It was supposed to be a surprise. Yes, there are, as well as nutrition bars and. . . . . .” Tyr started.
“Yick! Nutrition bars! Some of them taste like grass!” Amanda said, as she stuck her tongue out in disgust.
“Wheat grass is a excellent source of fiber, but I did not include those.” Tyr said.
“No chocolate?” Amanda asked and pouted.
“No chocolate, Amanda. Carob.” Tyr replied.
“Carob?” Amanda asked.
“It is healthy chocolate. Sans the chemical additives and colorings.” Tyr replied.
“Zounds! You're really serious about this stuff aren't you?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, I am. What about you accommodations?” Tyr asked.
“The Antares makes regular runs to Prometheus so they have special accommodations set up for us. Gravity well quarters and specially designed gyms. So no problems there. I expect to relax for a change.” Amanda replied and smiled.
“Three minutes to Antares departure.” Deep Space Tens computer announced. All around them people bid good bye to loved ones, grabbed bags, totes and hurried towards the gangway.
“Thank you so much, Bo. I love you.” Amanda said as she leaned in and kissed him. Tyr returned it.
“See ya in two months!” she called, as she picked up the tote containing the care package and her other do-dads, and sprinted for her flight.
“All passengers of The Antares for all points, Andor, Bajor, Bollia, Deep Space Seven, Hawkings Station, Vulcan . . . . . Kindly board immediately. We are departing in two minutes.” The Antares steward announced.
Amanda reached the gangway, looked back, waved and threw kisses. Tyr smiled in return. Of course he was well aware that Melissa Culpepper and her INN holo-camera crew were there to document every second of their exchange.
Since his conversation with Amanda did not contain classified information, Tyr had allowed the INN crew to record as much as they wanted.
“It is good to throw the media a bone every so often. Either you do that or they will deliberately dig up something on you.” Barbarossa would warn young Tyr sagely.
Tyr also took comfort in the fact that four of his Ceremonial Guard were traveling with Amanda. Despite the fact she objected to being shadowed and guarded like one of those silly Holo-Serial celebrities. Tyr had convinced her that it was better to be safe than sorry.
* * * * * * * * *
Khan stood off to the side, out of the way of the crowd and rush. He watched Amanda's departure with great sadness in his heart. For he knew there would be certain circumstances which will prevent Amanda from seeing Tyr again for about eight to nine months. Even worse was the fact that according to the Katay Revelational Guide, he was forbidden to tell Tyr these things.
“I can tell him the storm is coming, in order that he may batten down the hatches. But, I cannot tell him whether the storm will be a Tornado, Hurricane, Typhoon, or Nor'Easter. Unfortunately, this one looks like The Perfect Storm.” Khan thought to himself.
* * * * * * * *
Tyr did not like the look on Khan's face when he walked up on the Katay. He also did not like the way Khan's amber feline eyes gazed at him as if he was searching his very soul. Be it far from the Nietzschean to admit fear, but that look gave him the “willies”.
“Are you alright, Khan?” Tyr asked.
“I am fine. And you?” Khan replied. That intense expression had completely disappeared and he'd pulled his whiskers back with mirth.
“I am functioning within established parameters.” Tyr said. An old joke between the two of them.
“Excellent, because HaxHis wants to see you. But, I think you'd better suit up first.” Khan said. Tyr was still dressed in plain clothes.
“Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you there.” Tyr replied as he hurried towards the nearest lift. Ten minutes was more than enough time for Tyr Anazasi to sonic shower, put on fresh uniform and arrive at HaxHis' office.
* * * * * * *
Eight minutes later, Tyr arrived and waited with Khan while HaxHis' Vulcan administrative assistant announced their presence.
“Please go in.” Vulcan woman intoned, stiffly.
“Thank you.” Khan said. He cut his amber eyes at Tyr who grunted softly. Except for his Tamara, Tyr swore he would look at all Vulcans with a jaundiced eye from this day forth.
”I know it is a bad attitude to have, but it is far better to deflect the knife, then to let it stab you in the back outright.” Tyr justified to himself.
The Fleet Admiral and both officers exchanged morning greetings, and HaxHis offered them both refreshments. Both refused.
“Rear Admiral Anazasi, is the package safe?” Haxhis asked without preamble.
“It is safe.” Tyr replied.
“I've received a report that Team Harper has made it past the semi-finals into the finals and third place. They were moved up to second place this morning as the regining champions both suddenly became ill and had to be disqualified. We have offered the Romulan Ambassador our medical services for his son and daughter. But, he insisted on repairing to his own ship, his own personal physician, and leaving for Romulus, post haste. Would you care to elaborate, Tyr?” HaxHis asked.
“No I do not Ma'am.” a stoney faced Tyr replied.
“I've also received a report that Solon is missing. He was supposed to give some kind of symposium earlier and he never showed. Out of concern some of his attendees went to his quarters and found them scrubbed clean as a whistle. There was no trace whatsoever that the man ever existed. The trail goes completely cold after that.” HaxHis continued, and gazed at Tyr. But not a peep came from him.
”I wonder if Section 31 is involved? But, how could they? They are supposed to contact me when they arrive. According to Skonn's estimates, they are not due to arrive until tomorrow, yet. . . . .” HaxHis pondered.
“Ma'am, what of Solon's wives?” Tyr asked, out of the clear blue.
“Under Starfleet regulations, they are considered AWOL and Deserters. If they are ever found they will have to suffer the full consequences of their actions. They will be stripped of rank, their pension, and given a dishonorable discharge from Starfleet.” HaxHis replied.
She didn't mention imprisonment because there was absolutely no prison in the universe that could hold a Nietzschean. So Starfleet's best weapon was to toss the Nietzschean baddies out on their cookies.
"If they love space travel and adventure so much, let them buy a ship and hire themselves out as privateers. she thought.
“What if I can prove their innocence?” Tyr asked.
“If you have sustainable proof, yes. But, Tyr, please tell me you are not just doing this because the ladies in question are Nietzschean citizens and you are the Nietzschean Viceroy. I recall warning you that there will be times when having two major titles can cause a blurring of the boundary line between the two. This looks like one of these times.” HaxHis stated.
”I couldn't have said it better myself. Khan thought.
“I will get you the proof.” Tyr promised and gazed right into Haxhis' eyes. Indeed his word was bond, and by hook or crook, he would have it and possibly the two ladies in question too.
“On to the next item on the list. The pioneer colony on Avon Six. Since the colony was formed under the auspices of the Federation and we are the closest Starbase to them, we are obligated to bring them supplies twice a year. I would like you to head up this next supply mission. You will be leaving two days from now, and in all, the mission, barring unforeseen circumstances, should last about a month.” Haxhis outlined.
“Your fleet will include The Insurrection, The Louisiana, The Ticonderoga, The Cochise, and four additional supply vessels. Even though the Nova and Akira class ships will be along to provide protection, supplies will be loaded into their cargo bays also. Six months can be a very long time on a colony without regular supplies. We are currently working on a deal to make them more often as we get more staff and ships.” she continued.
“As with all supply missions, we always welcome anyone “who wants to return to society”, so to speak.” she said, finally.
There was nothing like living on a colony world, missing all you loved, and coming to the conclusion: “If I had a way off this rock, I would be gone in a heartbeat!” Also, occasionally there were those who were too ill or too injured to stay.
“Acknowledged, Ma'am.” Tyr said. He was a little distressed that he would not be able to spend more time with Tamara and Xena before they left. He already keenly missed Amanda's presence and she hadn't been gone an hour.
“Perhaps I should have dinner with them tonight.” Tyr thought as HaxHis dismissed them.
“Where to, Tyr?” Khan asked, as they took the lift down to the Upper Promenade.
“First, I must have a talk with the Dolgarians.” Tyr replied.
“Tyr, would you mind terribly if I sat this one out? Khan asked. Tyr gazed at his Katay brother.
“Khan, you need to get over it. No you may NOT sit this one out.” Tyr replied.
“Well, if you put it THAT way.” Khan replied.
* * * * * * * *
First order of business was to contact Stripe. All Tyr needed to do is track down any Dolgarian on the station and convey the message. Minutes later, Stripe appeared at Tyr's private table in Stingray Jakk's. She brought along a considerably smaller pack than she'd had the first time they met.
“Woooooo! Admiral Tyr. Wooooo! Commander Khan. It was a good thing Tyr had learned earlier that mini howl was the Dolgarians way of saying “hi”. Again he had to restrain himself from laughing.
”What is it about this race that causes me to want to laugh at them so?” Tyr wondered to himself.
He looked over at Khan, and the Katay could have been a stuffed museum display Tiger. Tyr discreetly gave Khan a poke in his sensitive belly. Khan started, blinked, and gazed at Tyr, his Nietzschean brothers frown was all he needed to straighten up and fly right.
“Greetings Stripe.” Tyr said.
“Greetings Stripe.” Khan said.
“How may we help you?” Stripe asked. For the next hour or so, Tyr sat surrounded by Stripe and her pack as he explained the mysterious disappearance of Solon's wives.
“I will put my best people on it.” Stripe promised.
“I will make sure the proper clearances and the rest of the pertinent information gets to you.” Tyr stated.
“What about payment?” Khan asked.
“We have a vastly different payment system than yours. Dolgarians do not pay for a service until it is rendered and rendered correctly. If it is not rendered according to your specifications, you have the right to reduce the agreed upon payment, or not pay at all. It keeps us honest.” Stripe said as she took out a padd and tabbed it on. “This is the contract.” she said as she handed the padd to Tyr. “You fill in your information here, and place the amount here. Yes, we do take Universal Express.” she continued.
Tyr indicated the amount, tabbed in his Universal Express number and placed his right hand against the pad as his signature. Stripe took the padd from him and pressed her right paw against the padd in like manner. The deal was struck in stone, so to speak.
“How often do you want to receive updates?” Stripe asked.
“Weekly. Please send them to both Deep Space Ten and The Insurrection.” Tyr specified. “If there is a change, I will inform you.” he continued.
“Will do, Sir,” Stripe replied, as she and her pack left.
“Now, that was not so bad, was it, Khan?” Tyr asked, as he opened his menu.
“No it wasn't.” Khan replied. He didn't bother with a menu because he already knew what he wanted. A fish dish.
Tyr had a large bowl of lobster bisque and a salad. Khan had a Mariner's Platter, which contained a selection of shrimp, tilapia. salmon and whiting. Later, after their dishes had been collected by the waitress, both sat back and enjoyed hot cups of Rakktigino,
Now, the two men had time to talk.
“Tyr, what really happened to Solon?” Khan dared to ask.
“He tripped and fell into a sun.” Tyr replied.
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