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.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
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.
Free Enterprise - Wet Work - Chapter #115
Free Enterprise - Wet Work - Chapter #115
Ten minutes later Tyr and his assets were in place and ready for “the drop”.
“Do not allow them to touch your shoulders here . . . .” he said, and demonstrated to the group of twelve assets. Recalling how both Khan and Tamara had demonstrated the infamous “Vulcan Nerve Pinch” to him.
As a Vulcan, Tamara had a surer hand and Tyr felt his left shoulder and arm go numb as a result. It was not the ultimate result, which was to render an opponent unconscious, but it was dangerous nonetheless.
“ . . . . . . . do not allow any of the parties present to escape alive.” Tyr ordered, coldly.
“ . . . . . . . Finally, Solon is mine.” Tyr declared. Every one of his assets nodded their acknowledgment.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr and “his people” were in place and hiding in the shadows when Solon arrived. The rouge Vulcan had chosen an ill-used deck and corridor as an exchange point. A minute later his cohorts arrived.
From his hiding place, Tyr raised his eyebrow in Spock-like fashion to hear the group switch from speaking Federation Standard English, to Romulan. He had learned from Tamara that the Romulan language was considered a “bastardized” version of Vulcan, the way Old Earth American English was of England's King's English. So he understood their conversation, somewhat.
Solon was about to go into one of his self aggrandizing diatribes, when the leader of the rouge group cut him short. Perhaps he'd sensed that death was very near. . . .
“Solon, we haven't got time. Hand over the discs.” The group leader demanded. Solon, in a monumental slip of his strict Vulcan veneer, gawked but, obeyed and handed over the packet of discs. In turn he received a corresponding packet.
Tyr gave the signal and his team swung into action. The rouge group never knew what hit them. There was a brief melee and donnybrook which ended quicly.
Unlike the rest of his group, who all wore ninja-like ski masks on their faces, Tyr made sure Solon got a good look at his.
There was a brief and mighty struggle between the Vulcan double agent, and the Nietzschean Viceroy. Solon insisted upon trying to immobilize his arch rival with his only ace in the hole. He realized at the last second before he died that The Vulcan Nerve Pinch was useless against Nietzscheans.
“It is a pity I cannot tell anyone.” Solon thought, before everything went black, and he exited stage left for the last time on this mortal coil.
In the end twelve rouges lay dead on the deck, while Tyr's group checked themselves for injuries. There were a few cuts and scratches, nothing that wouldn't take a few hours to heal.
Tyr picked up the packets of discs which had fallen to the deck and pocketed them. He searched Solon's person and found yet another packet of discs, which he immediately confiscated also.
“You have your orders.” Tyr said to his team. They all silently saluted him then neatly arranged the bodies. Their leader quietly signaled their ship, and Tyr stepped back as everything was beamed away. Tyr then headed towards the nearest lift.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Tyr arrived at his quarters, Madre, his “guest” was still seated and waiting. There was evidence that she had eaten a meal, and was now sipping a mug of Rakktigino.
She watched as Tyr removed his gloves and laid two packets of discs on the desk in front of her. He held a third in his left hand.
“Three?” she asked simply.
“These were part of the actual exchange.” Tyr explained, pointing to the packet on the right. “I searched him after the encounter and discovered these on his person.” he continued, as he indicated the other packet on the left. “ Obviously this was the payment for services rendered.” Tyr continued as he pointed at the second disc, again. Both parties present knew this was evidence of an Inter-Galactic Monetary Transfer account.
“You do realize that is considered blood money and in order for our organization to maintain impartiality we cannot accept such funds. However, legally you as the Nietzschean Viceroy, are not bound to such strictures. You are free to confiscate the funds as the spoils of war and thus use them as you see fit.” she said.
“The spoils of war? How so?” Tyr asked.
“Tyr, did you honestly believe that HaxHis' punishment of sending Solon's group off on a six month mission with the Ticonderoga reformed his views about Nietzscheans?” she asked. "It may have softened some hearts, but it also may have served to inflame him even more" Madre continued.
“As Barbarossa would say: “I was suspicious of the man from the day he was born until he died by my hand." No, I did not.” Tyr replied, coldly.
“I strongly suspect the contents of those discs. . . . . . ." she started as she pointed to the packet Tyr held in his right hand. " . . . . . . .contain a confession of sorts. People of Solon ilk always consider themselves pioneers in their madness, and leave copious records to attest to that fact. Old Earth's history is full of examples. The Uni Bomber, The Son Of Sam, John Wayne Gacey, with their manifestos and tirades. Unfortunately, this particular madman will also be considered a martyr when word gets out he is dead.” she said.
“Not if if his so-called devotees cannot find his remains.” Tyr replied. She merely gazed at him and frowned.
The expression on her face said: "I do hope you've cleaned up after yourselves."
“Nietzscheans always clean up after themselves. I am positive Solon and his cohorts are now part of a distant sun.” he continued and smiled.
“And what of his wives, Tyr?” she asked. “They were reported missing by The Ticonderoga's Captain three and a half months ago.” Tyr instantly remembered the Fleetwide Alert he had received when their disappearance was first reported.
Commander Michalla Fuchs and Lieutenant Commander Diane Stanton. Both had exemplary service records and both were Nietzschean citizens. Of course he was concerned for their safety and welfare.
“I strongly suggest you ask the Dolgarians to assist you in tracking them down. One of the talents they excel in is investigation.” she said. “After all it was they who first informed us what Solon's fledgling group was up to. And it was also the reason why Prince Bear Paw crashed his ship on Pinnacle 28 years ago.” she replied. Tyr stared at the woman, with mouth agape.
“Now, lets have a look at these discs.” she said, as she opened the first packet and placed the first disc into the slot.
* * * * * * * * *
Two and a quarter hours later, a screaming migraine later, Tyr called a halt to the session. The weapon formula disc had long been authenticated.
They then checked the Money Transfer and found a kings ransom waiting in an numbered account for the late Solon to claim. Tyr swiftly took care of the minute details and the sum now belonged to him. The next discs they began to review were none other than Solon's personal blogs.
As Madre had predicted earlier, it was filled with arrogance and self aggrandizement, just like it's author. Tyr'd had enough after 15 minutes of listening to it. The reason he had a headache was simple, he was allergic to Bravo Sierra
It also saddened him that Solon only mentioned his wives only once. He boldly bragged he'd only married them in order to maintain the ruse that he'd changed heart towards the Nietzscheans. In reality, he had not, so therefore he no longer needed them. What happened to the women was anybodies guess.
“They were just mere props.” Tyr said with disgust.
“Apparently so.” Madre replied, as she ejected the disc in mid-sentence and laid it on Tyr's desk. She stood and tucked the formula discs into her jacket pocket.
Like Tyr she was dressed in plain clothes. Anyone who looked at her would've thought she was an senior citizen on the station for a shopping spree. Indeed she had five brightly colored shopping bags filled with merchandise as a cover.
“Tyr, I must return to my ship because she's leaving for Earth in ten minutes. Rest assured, this information is in good hands, and will be dealt with properly. Thank you very much for your service. In fact, the entire universe thanks you, Viceroy Anasazi.” she continued.
“You are welcome.” Tyr replied, and watched as Madre took her leave.
* * * * * * * *
Once she was outside, Madre immediately joined up with seven other women who appeared to be the same age as she. They were all casually dressed like her. All carried shopping bags and all chatted excitedly about their "plunder", as they hurried down to Landing Bay Seven to catch their flight home.
Note To Readers: The word "Madre" means Mother in Spanish.
Ten minutes later Tyr and his assets were in place and ready for “the drop”.
“Do not allow them to touch your shoulders here . . . .” he said, and demonstrated to the group of twelve assets. Recalling how both Khan and Tamara had demonstrated the infamous “Vulcan Nerve Pinch” to him.
As a Vulcan, Tamara had a surer hand and Tyr felt his left shoulder and arm go numb as a result. It was not the ultimate result, which was to render an opponent unconscious, but it was dangerous nonetheless.
“ . . . . . . . do not allow any of the parties present to escape alive.” Tyr ordered, coldly.
“ . . . . . . . Finally, Solon is mine.” Tyr declared. Every one of his assets nodded their acknowledgment.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr and “his people” were in place and hiding in the shadows when Solon arrived. The rouge Vulcan had chosen an ill-used deck and corridor as an exchange point. A minute later his cohorts arrived.
From his hiding place, Tyr raised his eyebrow in Spock-like fashion to hear the group switch from speaking Federation Standard English, to Romulan. He had learned from Tamara that the Romulan language was considered a “bastardized” version of Vulcan, the way Old Earth American English was of England's King's English. So he understood their conversation, somewhat.
Solon was about to go into one of his self aggrandizing diatribes, when the leader of the rouge group cut him short. Perhaps he'd sensed that death was very near. . . .
“Solon, we haven't got time. Hand over the discs.” The group leader demanded. Solon, in a monumental slip of his strict Vulcan veneer, gawked but, obeyed and handed over the packet of discs. In turn he received a corresponding packet.
Tyr gave the signal and his team swung into action. The rouge group never knew what hit them. There was a brief melee and donnybrook which ended quicly.
Unlike the rest of his group, who all wore ninja-like ski masks on their faces, Tyr made sure Solon got a good look at his.
There was a brief and mighty struggle between the Vulcan double agent, and the Nietzschean Viceroy. Solon insisted upon trying to immobilize his arch rival with his only ace in the hole. He realized at the last second before he died that The Vulcan Nerve Pinch was useless against Nietzscheans.
“It is a pity I cannot tell anyone.” Solon thought, before everything went black, and he exited stage left for the last time on this mortal coil.
In the end twelve rouges lay dead on the deck, while Tyr's group checked themselves for injuries. There were a few cuts and scratches, nothing that wouldn't take a few hours to heal.
Tyr picked up the packets of discs which had fallen to the deck and pocketed them. He searched Solon's person and found yet another packet of discs, which he immediately confiscated also.
“You have your orders.” Tyr said to his team. They all silently saluted him then neatly arranged the bodies. Their leader quietly signaled their ship, and Tyr stepped back as everything was beamed away. Tyr then headed towards the nearest lift.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Tyr arrived at his quarters, Madre, his “guest” was still seated and waiting. There was evidence that she had eaten a meal, and was now sipping a mug of Rakktigino.
She watched as Tyr removed his gloves and laid two packets of discs on the desk in front of her. He held a third in his left hand.
“Three?” she asked simply.
“These were part of the actual exchange.” Tyr explained, pointing to the packet on the right. “I searched him after the encounter and discovered these on his person.” he continued, as he indicated the other packet on the left. “ Obviously this was the payment for services rendered.” Tyr continued as he pointed at the second disc, again. Both parties present knew this was evidence of an Inter-Galactic Monetary Transfer account.
“You do realize that is considered blood money and in order for our organization to maintain impartiality we cannot accept such funds. However, legally you as the Nietzschean Viceroy, are not bound to such strictures. You are free to confiscate the funds as the spoils of war and thus use them as you see fit.” she said.
“The spoils of war? How so?” Tyr asked.
“Tyr, did you honestly believe that HaxHis' punishment of sending Solon's group off on a six month mission with the Ticonderoga reformed his views about Nietzscheans?” she asked. "It may have softened some hearts, but it also may have served to inflame him even more" Madre continued.
“As Barbarossa would say: “I was suspicious of the man from the day he was born until he died by my hand." No, I did not.” Tyr replied, coldly.
“I strongly suspect the contents of those discs. . . . . . ." she started as she pointed to the packet Tyr held in his right hand. " . . . . . . .contain a confession of sorts. People of Solon ilk always consider themselves pioneers in their madness, and leave copious records to attest to that fact. Old Earth's history is full of examples. The Uni Bomber, The Son Of Sam, John Wayne Gacey, with their manifestos and tirades. Unfortunately, this particular madman will also be considered a martyr when word gets out he is dead.” she said.
“Not if if his so-called devotees cannot find his remains.” Tyr replied. She merely gazed at him and frowned.
The expression on her face said: "I do hope you've cleaned up after yourselves."
“Nietzscheans always clean up after themselves. I am positive Solon and his cohorts are now part of a distant sun.” he continued and smiled.
“And what of his wives, Tyr?” she asked. “They were reported missing by The Ticonderoga's Captain three and a half months ago.” Tyr instantly remembered the Fleetwide Alert he had received when their disappearance was first reported.
Commander Michalla Fuchs and Lieutenant Commander Diane Stanton. Both had exemplary service records and both were Nietzschean citizens. Of course he was concerned for their safety and welfare.
“I strongly suggest you ask the Dolgarians to assist you in tracking them down. One of the talents they excel in is investigation.” she said. “After all it was they who first informed us what Solon's fledgling group was up to. And it was also the reason why Prince Bear Paw crashed his ship on Pinnacle 28 years ago.” she replied. Tyr stared at the woman, with mouth agape.
“Now, lets have a look at these discs.” she said, as she opened the first packet and placed the first disc into the slot.
* * * * * * * * *
Two and a quarter hours later, a screaming migraine later, Tyr called a halt to the session. The weapon formula disc had long been authenticated.
They then checked the Money Transfer and found a kings ransom waiting in an numbered account for the late Solon to claim. Tyr swiftly took care of the minute details and the sum now belonged to him. The next discs they began to review were none other than Solon's personal blogs.
As Madre had predicted earlier, it was filled with arrogance and self aggrandizement, just like it's author. Tyr'd had enough after 15 minutes of listening to it. The reason he had a headache was simple, he was allergic to Bravo Sierra
It also saddened him that Solon only mentioned his wives only once. He boldly bragged he'd only married them in order to maintain the ruse that he'd changed heart towards the Nietzscheans. In reality, he had not, so therefore he no longer needed them. What happened to the women was anybodies guess.
“They were just mere props.” Tyr said with disgust.
“Apparently so.” Madre replied, as she ejected the disc in mid-sentence and laid it on Tyr's desk. She stood and tucked the formula discs into her jacket pocket.
Like Tyr she was dressed in plain clothes. Anyone who looked at her would've thought she was an senior citizen on the station for a shopping spree. Indeed she had five brightly colored shopping bags filled with merchandise as a cover.
“Tyr, I must return to my ship because she's leaving for Earth in ten minutes. Rest assured, this information is in good hands, and will be dealt with properly. Thank you very much for your service. In fact, the entire universe thanks you, Viceroy Anasazi.” she continued.
“You are welcome.” Tyr replied, and watched as Madre took her leave.
* * * * * * * *
Once she was outside, Madre immediately joined up with seven other women who appeared to be the same age as she. They were all casually dressed like her. All carried shopping bags and all chatted excitedly about their "plunder", as they hurried down to Landing Bay Seven to catch their flight home.
Note To Readers: The word "Madre" means Mother in Spanish.
Free Enterprise - Wet Work - Chapter #115
Free Enterprise - Wet Work - Chapter #115Ten minutes later Tyr and his assets were in place and ready for “the drop”.
“Do not allow them to touch your shoulders here . . . .” he said, and demonstrated to the group of twelve assets. Recalling how both Khan and Tamara had demonstrated the infamous “Vulcan Nerve Pinch” to him.
As a Vulcan, Tamara had a surer hand and Tyr felt his left shoulder and arm go numb as a result. It was not the ultimate result, which was to render an opponent unconscious, but it was dangerous nonetheless.
“ . . . . . . . do not allow any of the parties present to escape alive.” Tyr ordered, coldly.
“ . . . . . . . Finally, Solon is mine.” Tyr declared. Every one of his assets nodded their acknowledgment.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr and “his people” were in place and hiding in the shadows when Solon arrived. The rouge Vulcan had chosen an ill-used deck and corridor as an exchange point. A minute later his cohorts arrived.
From his hiding place, Tyr raised his eyebrow in Spock-like fashion to hear the group switch from speaking Federation Standard English, to Romulan. He had learned from Tamara that the Romulan language was considered a “bastardized” version of Vulcan, the way Old Earth American English was of England's King's English. So he understood their conversation, somewhat.
Solon was about to go into one of his self aggrandizing diatribes, when the leader of the rouge group cut him short. Perhaps he'd sensed that death was very near. . . .
“Solon, we haven't got time. Hand over the discs.” The group leader demanded. Solon, in a monumental slip of his strict Vulcan veneer, gawked but, obeyed and handed over the packet of discs. In turn he received a corresponding packet.
Tyr gave the signal and his team swung into action. The rouge group never knew what hit them. There was a brief melee and donnybrook which ended quicly.
Unlike the rest of his group, who all wore ninja-like ski masks on their faces, Tyr made sure Solon got a good look at his.
There was a brief and mighty struggle between the Vulcan double agent, and the Nietzschean Viceroy. Solon insisted upon trying to immobilize his arch rival with his only ace in the hole. He realized at the last second before he died that The Vulcan Nerve Pinch was useless against Nietzscheans.
“It is a pity I cannot tell anyone.” Solon thought, before everything went black, and he exited stage left for the last time on this mortal coil.
In the end twelve rouges lay dead on the deck, while Tyr's group checked themselves for injuries. There were a few cuts and scratches, nothing that wouldn't take a few hours to heal.
Tyr picked up the packets of discs which had fallen to the deck and pocketed them. He searched Solon's person and found yet another packet of discs, which he immediately confiscated also.
“You have your orders.” Tyr said to his team. They all silently saluted him then neatly arranged the bodies. Their leader quietly signaled their ship, and Tyr stepped back as everything was beamed away. Tyr then headed towards the nearest lift.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Tyr arrived at his quarters, Madre, his “guest” was still seated and waiting. There was evidence that she had eaten a meal, and was now sipping a mug of Rakktigino.
She watched as Tyr removed his gloves and laid two packets of discs on the desk in front of her. He held a third in his left hand.
“Three?” she asked simply.
“These were part of the actual exchange.” Tyr explained, pointing to the packet on the right. “I searched him after the encounter and discovered these on his person.” he continued, as he indicated the other packet on the left. “ Obviously this was the payment for services rendered.” Tyr continued as he pointed at the second disc, again. Both parties present knew this was evidence of an Inter-Galactic Monetary Transfer account.
“You do realize that is considered blood money and in order for our organization to maintain impartiality we cannot accept such funds. However, legally you as the Nietzschean Viceroy, are not bound to such strictures. You are free to confiscate the funds as the spoils of war and thus use them as you see fit.” she said.
“The spoils of war? How so?” Tyr asked.
“Tyr, did you honestly believe that HaxHis' punishment of sending Solon's group off on a six month mission with the Ticonderoga reformed his views about Nietzscheans?” she asked. "It may have softened some hearts, but it also may have served to inflame him even more" Madre continued.
“As Barbarossa would say: “I was suspicious of the man from the day he was born until he died by my hand." No, I did not.” Tyr replied, coldly.
“I strongly suspect the contents of those discs. . . . . . ." she started as she pointed to the packet Tyr held in his right hand. " . . . . . . .contain a confession of sorts. People of Solon ilk always consider themselves pioneers in their madness, and leave copious records to attest to that fact. Old Earth's history is full of examples. The Uni Bomber, The Son Of Sam, John Wayne Gacey, with their manifestos and tirades. Unfortunately, this particular madman will also be considered a martyr when word gets out he is dead.” she said.
“Not if if his so-called devotees cannot find his remains.” Tyr replied. She merely gazed at him and frowned.
The expression on her face said: "I do hope you've cleaned up after yourselves."
“Nietzscheans always clean up after themselves. I am positive Solon and his cohorts are now part of a distant sun.” he continued and smiled.
“And what of his wives, Tyr?” she asked. “They were reported missing by The Ticonderoga's Captain three and a half months ago.” Tyr instantly remembered the Fleetwide Alert he had received when their disappearance was first reported.
Commander Michalla Fuchs and Lieutenant Commander Diane Stanton. Both had exemplary service records and both were Nietzschean citizens. Of course he was concerned for their safety and welfare.
“I strongly suggest you ask the Dolgarians to assist you in tracking them down. One of the talents they excel in is investigation.” she said. “After all it was they who first informed us what Solon's fledgling group was up to. And it was also the reason why Prince Bear Paw crashed his ship on Pinnacle 28 years ago.” she replied. Tyr stared at the woman, with mouth agape.
“Now, lets have a look at these discs.” she said, as she opened the first packet and placed the first disc into the slot.
* * * * * * * * *
Two and a quarter hours later, a screaming migraine later, Tyr called a halt to the session. The weapon formula disc had long been authenticated.
They then checked the Money Transfer and found a kings ransom waiting in an numbered account for the late Solon to claim. Tyr swiftly took care of the minute details and the sum now belonged to him. The next discs they began to review were none other than Solon's personal blogs.
As Madre had predicted earlier, it was filled with arrogance and self aggrandizement, just like it's author. Tyr'd had enough after 15 minutes of listening to it. The reason he had a headache was simple, he was allergic to Bravo Sierra
It also saddened him that Solon only mentioned his wives only once. He boldly bragged he'd only married them in order to maintain the ruse that he'd changed heart towards the Nietzscheans. In reality, he had not, so therefore he no longer needed them. What happened to the women was anybodies guess.
“They were just mere props.” Tyr said with disgust.
“Apparently so.” Madre replied, as she ejected the disc in mid-sentence and laid it on Tyr's desk. She stood and tucked the formula discs into her jacket pocket.
Like Tyr she was dressed in plain clothes. Anyone who looked at her would've thought she was an senior citizen on the station for a shopping spree. Indeed she had five brightly colored shopping bags filled with merchandise as a cover.
“Tyr, I must return to my ship because she's leaving for Earth in ten minutes. Rest assured, this information is in good hands, and will be dealt with properly. Thank you very much for your service. In fact, the entire universe thanks you, Viceroy Anasazi.” she continued.
“You are welcome.” Tyr replied, and watched as Madre took her leave.
* * * * * * * *
Once she was outside, Madre immediately joined up with seven other women who appeared to be the same age as she. They were all casually dressed like her. All carried shopping bags and all chatted excitedly about their "plunder", as they hurried down to Landing Bay Seven to catch their flight home.
Note To Readers The word "Madre" means Mother in Spanish.
“Do not allow them to touch your shoulders here . . . .” he said, and demonstrated to the group of twelve assets. Recalling how both Khan and Tamara had demonstrated the infamous “Vulcan Nerve Pinch” to him.
As a Vulcan, Tamara had a surer hand and Tyr felt his left shoulder and arm go numb as a result. It was not the ultimate result, which was to render an opponent unconscious, but it was dangerous nonetheless.
“ . . . . . . . do not allow any of the parties present to escape alive.” Tyr ordered, coldly.
“ . . . . . . . Finally, Solon is mine.” Tyr declared. Every one of his assets nodded their acknowledgment.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Tyr and “his people” were in place and hiding in the shadows when Solon arrived. The rouge Vulcan had chosen an ill-used deck and corridor as an exchange point. A minute later his cohorts arrived.
From his hiding place, Tyr raised his eyebrow in Spock-like fashion to hear the group switch from speaking Federation Standard English, to Romulan. He had learned from Tamara that the Romulan language was considered a “bastardized” version of Vulcan, the way Old Earth American English was of England's King's English. So he understood their conversation, somewhat.
Solon was about to go into one of his self aggrandizing diatribes, when the leader of the rouge group cut him short. Perhaps he'd sensed that death was very near. . . .
“Solon, we haven't got time. Hand over the discs.” The group leader demanded. Solon, in a monumental slip of his strict Vulcan veneer, gawked but, obeyed and handed over the packet of discs. In turn he received a corresponding packet.
Tyr gave the signal and his team swung into action. The rouge group never knew what hit them. There was a brief melee and donnybrook which ended quicly.
Unlike the rest of his group, who all wore ninja-like ski masks on their faces, Tyr made sure Solon got a good look at his.
There was a brief and mighty struggle between the Vulcan double agent, and the Nietzschean Viceroy. Solon insisted upon trying to immobilize his arch rival with his only ace in the hole. He realized at the last second before he died that The Vulcan Nerve Pinch was useless against Nietzscheans.
“It is a pity I cannot tell anyone.” Solon thought, before everything went black, and he exited stage left for the last time on this mortal coil.
In the end twelve rouges lay dead on the deck, while Tyr's group checked themselves for injuries. There were a few cuts and scratches, nothing that wouldn't take a few hours to heal.
Tyr picked up the packets of discs which had fallen to the deck and pocketed them. He searched Solon's person and found yet another packet of discs, which he immediately confiscated also.
“You have your orders.” Tyr said to his team. They all silently saluted him then neatly arranged the bodies. Their leader quietly signaled their ship, and Tyr stepped back as everything was beamed away. Tyr then headed towards the nearest lift.
* * * * * * * * * *
When Tyr arrived at his quarters, Madre, his “guest” was still seated and waiting. There was evidence that she had eaten a meal, and was now sipping a mug of Rakktigino.
She watched as Tyr removed his gloves and laid two packets of discs on the desk in front of her. He held a third in his left hand.
“Three?” she asked simply.
“These were part of the actual exchange.” Tyr explained, pointing to the packet on the right. “I searched him after the encounter and discovered these on his person.” he continued, as he indicated the other packet on the left. “ Obviously this was the payment for services rendered.” Tyr continued as he pointed at the second disc, again. Both parties present knew this was evidence of an Inter-Galactic Monetary Transfer account.
“You do realize that is considered blood money and in order for our organization to maintain impartiality we cannot accept such funds. However, legally you as the Nietzschean Viceroy, are not bound to such strictures. You are free to confiscate the funds as the spoils of war and thus use them as you see fit.” she said.
“The spoils of war? How so?” Tyr asked.
“Tyr, did you honestly believe that HaxHis' punishment of sending Solon's group off on a six month mission with the Ticonderoga reformed his views about Nietzscheans?” she asked. "It may have softened some hearts, but it also may have served to inflame him even more" Madre continued.
“As Barbarossa would say: “I was suspicious of the man from the day he was born until he died by my hand." No, I did not.” Tyr replied, coldly.
“I strongly suspect the contents of those discs. . . . . . ." she started as she pointed to the packet Tyr held in his right hand. " . . . . . . .contain a confession of sorts. People of Solon ilk always consider themselves pioneers in their madness, and leave copious records to attest to that fact. Old Earth's history is full of examples. The Uni Bomber, The Son Of Sam, John Wayne Gacey, with their manifestos and tirades. Unfortunately, this particular madman will also be considered a martyr when word gets out he is dead.” she said.
“Not if if his so-called devotees cannot find his remains.” Tyr replied. She merely gazed at him and frowned.
The expression on her face said: "I do hope you've cleaned up after yourselves."
“Nietzscheans always clean up after themselves. I am positive Solon and his cohorts are now part of a distant sun.” he continued and smiled.
“And what of his wives, Tyr?” she asked. “They were reported missing by The Ticonderoga's Captain three and a half months ago.” Tyr instantly remembered the Fleetwide Alert he had received when their disappearance was first reported.
Commander Michalla Fuchs and Lieutenant Commander Diane Stanton. Both had exemplary service records and both were Nietzschean citizens. Of course he was concerned for their safety and welfare.
“I strongly suggest you ask the Dolgarians to assist you in tracking them down. One of the talents they excel in is investigation.” she said. “After all it was they who first informed us what Solon's fledgling group was up to. And it was also the reason why Prince Bear Paw crashed his ship on Pinnacle 28 years ago.” she replied. Tyr stared at the woman, with mouth agape.
“Now, lets have a look at these discs.” she said, as she opened the first packet and placed the first disc into the slot.
* * * * * * * * *
Two and a quarter hours later, a screaming migraine later, Tyr called a halt to the session. The weapon formula disc had long been authenticated.
They then checked the Money Transfer and found a kings ransom waiting in an numbered account for the late Solon to claim. Tyr swiftly took care of the minute details and the sum now belonged to him. The next discs they began to review were none other than Solon's personal blogs.
As Madre had predicted earlier, it was filled with arrogance and self aggrandizement, just like it's author. Tyr'd had enough after 15 minutes of listening to it. The reason he had a headache was simple, he was allergic to Bravo Sierra
It also saddened him that Solon only mentioned his wives only once. He boldly bragged he'd only married them in order to maintain the ruse that he'd changed heart towards the Nietzscheans. In reality, he had not, so therefore he no longer needed them. What happened to the women was anybodies guess.
“They were just mere props.” Tyr said with disgust.
“Apparently so.” Madre replied, as she ejected the disc in mid-sentence and laid it on Tyr's desk. She stood and tucked the formula discs into her jacket pocket.
Like Tyr she was dressed in plain clothes. Anyone who looked at her would've thought she was an senior citizen on the station for a shopping spree. Indeed she had five brightly colored shopping bags filled with merchandise as a cover.
“Tyr, I must return to my ship because she's leaving for Earth in ten minutes. Rest assured, this information is in good hands, and will be dealt with properly. Thank you very much for your service. In fact, the entire universe thanks you, Viceroy Anasazi.” she continued.
“You are welcome.” Tyr replied, and watched as Madre took her leave.
* * * * * * * *
Once she was outside, Madre immediately joined up with seven other women who appeared to be the same age as she. They were all casually dressed like her. All carried shopping bags and all chatted excitedly about their "plunder", as they hurried down to Landing Bay Seven to catch their flight home.
Note To Readers The word "Madre" means Mother in Spanish.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Spy vs Spy - Chapter # 114
Free Enterprise - Spy vs Spy - Chapter #114
Once he had accomplished his mission, Tyr was able to sit down and have dinner. The Pepper Pot had been commissioned to cater the event along with seven other establishments. So, Tyr chose stewed chicken, peas and rice, kahliloo, and tucked in.
However, while Tyr ate and talked with the various dignitaries seated around him, he kept Solon in his line of sight. He did not like what he saw.
Solon stayed with the same group of people for most of the night. To the untrained eye Solon looked as if he was merely hanging around with and conversing with his fellow Vulcans. But, Tyr knew better. So did Tamara. If they needed evidence that the Vulcan was up to some kind of nefarious action, this was it.
“Tamara, your Uncle is a double agent." Tyr thought, as he lifted a fork full of rice to his mouth.
”Babe. You forget that man is no longer my Uncle. Tamara thought back coolly as she chewed her salad.
Indeed, she had formally disowned Solon and possessed the official documents to prove it. And according to Vulcan law. So did he.
”Yes, I am aware of that fact, however, I just wanted to warn you in case I must take drastic action. . . . .” Tyr thought back.
”The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' Tamara thought. Quoting Ambassador Spock's infamous phrase. ”Do what you must, Tyr. If the elimination of one foul creature and his cohorts would prevent billions from dying, so be it. Believe me, he will not be missed.” she continued.
Tyr gazed at Tamara and was about to respond verbally when Cornelius stepped up behind him politely interrupted.
“Sire, there is a party here to see you. They've insisted on a private audience.” Cornelius said.
“Please excuse me.” Tyr said to the esteemed diners at his table, as he rose to follow his Ceremonial Guard.
“I will return.” he continued. On the way out Tyr glanced at Khan, who shook his head. Tyr immediately got that creepy feeling again.
The Viceroy was led down the corridor to an unoccupied room. The door whooshed open as they entered and Tyr stood face to face with ten members of The Black Watch.
They all stood stiffly in military formation as they gazed silently at him. This could only mean one thing, they had complied with his orders to execute the rouge Osiris and his wives. Only, there was a slight problem.
“Sire, we have fulfilled your orders and have brought back evidence.” A young man, Tyr did not recognize said.
“Lieutenant, where is Commander Anderson?” Tyr asked, of him. The young man's military demeanor cracked, slightly.
“Sire, Commander Anderson and five others perished during the execution of the mission.” he replied. “We have brought back their remains.” he continued. The Black Watch's motto was: “ We NEVER leave our dead behind.”
In keeping with The Black Watch's strict military code, they all wore rank insignias but no name tags. They lived together like a family, thus didn't need them. However, an outsider like The Viceroy. . . . .
“What is your name, Lieutenant?” Tyr asked.
“Higgenbothem, Sire.” he replied.
“Let it be known and recorded that on this date and at this time, I hereby commend and promote you to Commander of The Black Watch. The remaining members of your team will also be given promotions and commendations. The deceased members of your team will be given posthumous honors. The families will also be compensated. I will forward the appropriate communicies as soon as possible.” Tyr said.
“Affirmative, Sire.” The newly minted Commander Higgenbothem replied. “Would you like to see them, Sire?” he asked.
Tyr briefly looked at Cornelius. No wonder Khan had shaken his head, as there was no way he would be returning to dinner after this. . . . . . .
“Lead on, Commander.” Tyr replied.
* * * * * * * * * * *
They took a round about way to get to the nearest Landing Bay. Why? Because The Black Watch specialized in stealth and that concept would be rendered useless if everyone saw them.
The party walked up the gangway of a Nietzschean troop carrier. Officers that had been left behind stood and saluted as the Viceroy entered. He acknowledged them and followed Commander Higgenbothem down to the ships hold.
There, off in a private corner sat six Nietzschean flag draped coffins. A combination of both anger and sadness welled up in Tyr, and threatened to burst free.
“Leave us!” Tyr ordered. Everyone left the bay except for Cornelius. Only he witnessed the Viceroy's scream of rage, then the tears.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Three hours later found Tyr in his quarters at his personal console working away. He had carefully reviewed the evidence Commander Higgenbothem had given him. He'd composed and sent the appropriate communicies to Pinnacle. Orders for promotions and citations for both the living and dead. Also compensation to the prides and clans who had lost loved ones.
This done, Tyr sat back and stared at the two items lying on his desk. The disc VuVu had retrieved from Racurr's pocket and the mini recorder that was in Solon's corner.
He had played the disc several times, for the benefit of himself and his guest. The result was the same. Starfleet had been hoodwinked.
“. . . . . . . I purposely led Starfleet to believe that I am on their side. Additionally, I led them on a wild goose chase, by telling them the the Romulan Ambassador would have the disc on his person. In reality he does have a disc, but it is filled with utterly useless gibberish. . . .” Solon bragged on the recording.
“The real discs will be carried by Team Rhana. Starfleet has not a clue. . . . . . . .” Solon continued, and snickered nastily. Shocking behavior for one who claimed to be an epitome of Vulcan-ness.
“I will be meeting them to retrieve the authentic discs in one hour. At 0300 hours we will meet to make the official exchange at. . . . . . ( names an obscure location on Deep Space Ten ). . . . I expect compensation of course.” Solon continued.
”What an arrogant and insufferable toad!” Tyr thought.
“I have contacted Team Wave Rider and they have assured me that they've personally witnessed the fact that Team Rhana is in possession of the discs.” a female voice stated. She was referring to Seamus and Monique Harper.
“Which gives me approximately 43 minutes to move my assets into place.” Tyr replied.
"More than enough time." Tyr thought.
“What are you planning to do?” the female voice asked.
“Snuff out a destructive fire which has burned far too long.” Tyr replied coldly.
“You do realize that if anything untoward occurs you are on your own. We will disavow any knowledge of it.” she stated.
“I understand.” Tyr said, as he stood.
The Viceroy had long discarded the trappings of his office, and was dressed from head to foot in black. Even Tyr's dreadlocks had been tied up in a specially designed, black, stretchy cloth.
“Please be careful, Tyr. You are a tremendous asset to us and we cannot afford to lose you.” she stated as she watched him slip on a pair of black gloves.
He flexed his hands and fingers, then slipped a mean-looking dagger into his hip sheath. His guest silently pitied the fool who'd ran afoul of this particular Nietzschean.
“I will endeavor to do so.” he replied. And was gone.
Note To Readers: Who is the "Female Guest or Voice"? Well, she sort of like the X-Files' "Cigarette Smoking Man". You never knew the man's name but he certainly had a lot of clout and power.
Once he had accomplished his mission, Tyr was able to sit down and have dinner. The Pepper Pot had been commissioned to cater the event along with seven other establishments. So, Tyr chose stewed chicken, peas and rice, kahliloo, and tucked in.
However, while Tyr ate and talked with the various dignitaries seated around him, he kept Solon in his line of sight. He did not like what he saw.
Solon stayed with the same group of people for most of the night. To the untrained eye Solon looked as if he was merely hanging around with and conversing with his fellow Vulcans. But, Tyr knew better. So did Tamara. If they needed evidence that the Vulcan was up to some kind of nefarious action, this was it.
“Tamara, your Uncle is a double agent." Tyr thought, as he lifted a fork full of rice to his mouth.
”Babe. You forget that man is no longer my Uncle. Tamara thought back coolly as she chewed her salad.
Indeed, she had formally disowned Solon and possessed the official documents to prove it. And according to Vulcan law. So did he.
”Yes, I am aware of that fact, however, I just wanted to warn you in case I must take drastic action. . . . .” Tyr thought back.
”The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.' Tamara thought. Quoting Ambassador Spock's infamous phrase. ”Do what you must, Tyr. If the elimination of one foul creature and his cohorts would prevent billions from dying, so be it. Believe me, he will not be missed.” she continued.
Tyr gazed at Tamara and was about to respond verbally when Cornelius stepped up behind him politely interrupted.
“Sire, there is a party here to see you. They've insisted on a private audience.” Cornelius said.
“Please excuse me.” Tyr said to the esteemed diners at his table, as he rose to follow his Ceremonial Guard.
“I will return.” he continued. On the way out Tyr glanced at Khan, who shook his head. Tyr immediately got that creepy feeling again.
The Viceroy was led down the corridor to an unoccupied room. The door whooshed open as they entered and Tyr stood face to face with ten members of The Black Watch.
They all stood stiffly in military formation as they gazed silently at him. This could only mean one thing, they had complied with his orders to execute the rouge Osiris and his wives. Only, there was a slight problem.
“Sire, we have fulfilled your orders and have brought back evidence.” A young man, Tyr did not recognize said.
“Lieutenant, where is Commander Anderson?” Tyr asked, of him. The young man's military demeanor cracked, slightly.
“Sire, Commander Anderson and five others perished during the execution of the mission.” he replied. “We have brought back their remains.” he continued. The Black Watch's motto was: “ We NEVER leave our dead behind.”
In keeping with The Black Watch's strict military code, they all wore rank insignias but no name tags. They lived together like a family, thus didn't need them. However, an outsider like The Viceroy. . . . .
“What is your name, Lieutenant?” Tyr asked.
“Higgenbothem, Sire.” he replied.
“Let it be known and recorded that on this date and at this time, I hereby commend and promote you to Commander of The Black Watch. The remaining members of your team will also be given promotions and commendations. The deceased members of your team will be given posthumous honors. The families will also be compensated. I will forward the appropriate communicies as soon as possible.” Tyr said.
“Affirmative, Sire.” The newly minted Commander Higgenbothem replied. “Would you like to see them, Sire?” he asked.
Tyr briefly looked at Cornelius. No wonder Khan had shaken his head, as there was no way he would be returning to dinner after this. . . . . . .
“Lead on, Commander.” Tyr replied.
* * * * * * * * * * *
They took a round about way to get to the nearest Landing Bay. Why? Because The Black Watch specialized in stealth and that concept would be rendered useless if everyone saw them.
The party walked up the gangway of a Nietzschean troop carrier. Officers that had been left behind stood and saluted as the Viceroy entered. He acknowledged them and followed Commander Higgenbothem down to the ships hold.
There, off in a private corner sat six Nietzschean flag draped coffins. A combination of both anger and sadness welled up in Tyr, and threatened to burst free.
“Leave us!” Tyr ordered. Everyone left the bay except for Cornelius. Only he witnessed the Viceroy's scream of rage, then the tears.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Three hours later found Tyr in his quarters at his personal console working away. He had carefully reviewed the evidence Commander Higgenbothem had given him. He'd composed and sent the appropriate communicies to Pinnacle. Orders for promotions and citations for both the living and dead. Also compensation to the prides and clans who had lost loved ones.
This done, Tyr sat back and stared at the two items lying on his desk. The disc VuVu had retrieved from Racurr's pocket and the mini recorder that was in Solon's corner.
He had played the disc several times, for the benefit of himself and his guest. The result was the same. Starfleet had been hoodwinked.
“. . . . . . . I purposely led Starfleet to believe that I am on their side. Additionally, I led them on a wild goose chase, by telling them the the Romulan Ambassador would have the disc on his person. In reality he does have a disc, but it is filled with utterly useless gibberish. . . .” Solon bragged on the recording.
“The real discs will be carried by Team Rhana. Starfleet has not a clue. . . . . . . .” Solon continued, and snickered nastily. Shocking behavior for one who claimed to be an epitome of Vulcan-ness.
“I will be meeting them to retrieve the authentic discs in one hour. At 0300 hours we will meet to make the official exchange at. . . . . . ( names an obscure location on Deep Space Ten ). . . . I expect compensation of course.” Solon continued.
”What an arrogant and insufferable toad!” Tyr thought.
“I have contacted Team Wave Rider and they have assured me that they've personally witnessed the fact that Team Rhana is in possession of the discs.” a female voice stated. She was referring to Seamus and Monique Harper.
“Which gives me approximately 43 minutes to move my assets into place.” Tyr replied.
"More than enough time." Tyr thought.
“What are you planning to do?” the female voice asked.
“Snuff out a destructive fire which has burned far too long.” Tyr replied coldly.
“You do realize that if anything untoward occurs you are on your own. We will disavow any knowledge of it.” she stated.
“I understand.” Tyr said, as he stood.
The Viceroy had long discarded the trappings of his office, and was dressed from head to foot in black. Even Tyr's dreadlocks had been tied up in a specially designed, black, stretchy cloth.
“Please be careful, Tyr. You are a tremendous asset to us and we cannot afford to lose you.” she stated as she watched him slip on a pair of black gloves.
He flexed his hands and fingers, then slipped a mean-looking dagger into his hip sheath. His guest silently pitied the fool who'd ran afoul of this particular Nietzschean.
“I will endeavor to do so.” he replied. And was gone.
Note To Readers: Who is the "Female Guest or Voice"? Well, she sort of like the X-Files' "Cigarette Smoking Man". You never knew the man's name but he certainly had a lot of clout and power.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Big Switcharoo - Chapter #113
Free Enterprise - The Big Switcharoo - Chapter #113
A group of 20 women watched Viceroy Anasazi and his entourage approach. They all had a bird's eye view from their window booth seats, in a Promenade restaurant named Stingray Jakk's.
“OMG! WHO is that?” Wilma, one of the ladies asked. They had newly arrived for the Hover Board Championships and had stopped to have dinner. They were in the midst of discussing which events they would be attending. Like thousands of die-hard fans, of the sport, they were either dressed in their favorite team's colors, or carried brightly colored team pennants.
“According to INN's Melissa Culpepper, he is the new Nietzschean Viceroy, Tyr Anasazi. The last son of Barbarossa Anasazi.” Sara answered.
“The last son! How many sons did the man have?” Jia Nian, a Trill queried.
“Fifteen.” Vanessa replied.
“Fif. . . . Fifteen?” Dorathy asked
“And he had like 12 daughters.” B'Tora a Klingon female replied.
“Yeah, I did see a report that Barbarossa died recently. Supposedly, he preselected Tyr to replace him on the throne. Tyr's also a Starfleet Rear Admiral, you know.” Chloe said.
“Ohhhhh! Put him on a plate and serve him up for dessert! I love chocolate!” Candice expressed.
“Girl! Don't you know nothing? The man is a NIETZSCHEAN! And he is an Alpha at that!” Evelyn countered.
“Something you can't handle, Candice.” Jessica replied.
“Nietzschean? What is a Nietzschean?” Candice queried. T'Shana, one of the two Vulcan females in the group launched into a short and detailed description.
“OMG! Multiple wives?” Sharon asked, when T'Shana finished.
“According to INN he already has eight wives, twin sons and four children on the way.” T'Shana replied.
“Sounds like e's tryin' ta catch up with 'is father.” Micheala said in her Kensington accent.
“Prophets alive! That sounds more like a harem.” one of the Bajoran women present stated.
“Unlike a harem, Nietzschean society is matriarchal, so the women have the upper hand. It is THEY who selected him, instead of vise versa.” T'Shana stated.
“Oh! You think he'd be interested in me?” Debbie asked, as she pantomimed fluffing her hair and smiled.
“You'd have to cue up for a try. High status Nietzschean males like Viceroy Anasazi, have hundreds of formal proposals waiting for him .” a lady named Dagny replied.
“I guess that means no girlfriends, eh?” Justine asked.
“Negative. Nietzscheans do not believe in dalliances.” T'Shana replied. “It is either all or nothing at all for them.” she continued.
Twelve women sighed as the watched the holo broadcast screen, that was showing snippets about Tyr. Most of the shots were from afar as his Ceremonial Guard had been given orders to keep the press at bay.
However, it was going to be a different story at the Reception and dinner.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
By the time Tyr arrived, things were in full swing. The event was being held in The Garden Terrace Suite. It was an entire half deck that was reserved for large diplomatic events such as these. It also had a commanding view of the starboard docking bay and The Insurrection. Tyr smiled to himself upon espying “his baby” in the huge, clear steel, panoramic, windows. He frowned immediately afterward as he remembered his mission.
He started searching for VuVu. The place had been decorated with many live plants and trees, which created the affect of being in an actual garden. Tyr had prearranged with VuVu that she would signal him, and he would acknowledge her in return.
In the meantime while Tyr searched, he was obligated to chat up and make nice with some of the dignitaries. The first to approach was the Andorian Ambassador Kavv.
“Greetings, Viceroy Anasazi. On the behalf of my people I offer heart felt condolences for your father.” Kavv said.
“Thank you.” Tyr replied. After all what else could he say? With a few trifling words and a heroic life was just dismissed. It made him sick.
“Tyr? Are you gonna be okay with this?” Tamara asked through their link.
“I will be okay. When I start shooting, that's when you will know I have a problem.” Tyr replied in kind.
“That's what I'm trying to avoid, Tyr, the last thing you need is for you wind up in the stockade.” Tamara replied. She never got a response as it seemed like all of the ambassadors took their cue from Kavv and lined up to speak with him.
A trail of them followed as Tyr perused the buffet table. He was hungry but didn't want to partake of a full meal until the business with VuVu was concluded. As it was he had not found her yet. The entire mission hinged upon on locating The Pickpocket Plant and setting events in motion.
Tyr opted for a small bowl of shelled pistachio nuts, and immediately popped a handful into his mouth. Unfortunately INN's Melissa Culpepper - who had been trailing him with a live feed - chose this inopportune time to have her holo-camera crew zero in on him,
“Crap! She would broadcast my face across the universe, while I'm chewing like a Holstein.” Tyr thought sourly, as he turned his head and broad back to her. Melissa swore to herself as Tyr's face was immediately replaced by Cornelius' stern visage.
There was a flurry of activity as Melissa signaled her camera crew back. The last thing she needed was to get blasted. After all, the Point Man of the Ceremonial Guard was armed to the teeth and for good reason.
As the Intergalactic News Network crew pulled back, Tyr saw VuVu. She shook herself like no plant would ever do. Tyr signaled back that he saw her, by scratching his nose, and marked her location. Now for the Romulan Ambassador.
It was not hard finding the man. He was standing in the corner with a group of Romulans and having an involved conversation. The second Tyr laid eyes on the man, he went on alert.
The man was dressed like an ambassador, but his stance was all wrong. He may have claimed to be a peaceful representative of his people, but his demeanor said he was a man of war. Being one himself, Tyr easily recognized all of the “tells”.
“What's the matter, Tyr?” Tamara mind whispered to him. She was decked out in her Class A's for the event, and sipped from a champagne flute of Altire Water.
“The so-called Romulan Ambassador is suspect.” Tyr thought back.
“Ambassador Racurr, suspect? Like spy suspect?” she asked.
“More like high level military suspect. He is here under the guise of Ambassador to spy out the land.” Tyr replied, as he slowly angled towards the man. Tyr was conscious of the INN camera and Ms. Culpepper following in his wake, and did a slow burn, Tamara disappeared for a minute then returned to his side.
“HaxHis also suspected and took precautions.” Tamara stated mentally.
“Tamara. In order to make the switch, I MUST get rid of that INN crew. Short of shooting them, I'll need a distraction.” Tyr mentally projected.
“One distraction coming right up.” Tamara replied, in kind, with a mental smile. Less than a minute later, the INN crew including it's award-winning reporter was overwhelmed by a pack of Dolgarians. Tyr couldn't spare a second to wonder how Tamara had marshaled the pack in such short notice.
Unimpeded, Tyr headed straight for Ambassador's Racurr's corner. They introduced themselves, exchanged pleasantries and continued their conversation as they walked towards VuVu's location.
In the meantime, Tyr assessed the elaborate robes the man was wearing. They were similar to a Vulcan's, but for the life of him, Tyr could not determine where the so-called Ambassador had the discs. According to the reports from Solon, they were supposed to be in his pockets. But, where WERE his pockets?
“I will trust VuVu to find them.” Tyr thought. “After all, she'd been a pickpocket for five years before she was liberated.” he mused.
” Speaking of Solon. . . . . .” Tyr thought as he gazed in the spice dealer cum spy's direction. What he saw made his blood boil.
Solon was closeted in a corner with a large group of Vulcans and having a rather strident whispered conversation.
“It is most fortuitous that I asked Seamus to place hidden multi-directional voice activated recorders in all of the dark corners. Now, all we have to do is wait until the event is over, remove said devise and we shall see who Solon really is.” Tyr thought fiercely.
In the meantime the Ambassador was in place. If Tyr wore a watch, he would've glanced at it. Or he would've anxiously glanced at the wall chrono. However, he just waited, chatted and waited.
”Amanda, please. I cannot continue this charade any longer. Tyr thought, impatiently.
“DADDY!” Alexander exclaimed, as he ran through the crowd, followed closely by Lysander, with Amanda bringing up the rear. Both boys cannon balled into their father, and Tyr bent and lifted one in each arm. All activity in the hall stopped as everyone exclaimed, ohhhed, ahhhed, and commented on their cuteness.And of course their remarkable resemblance to their Dad.
While this was going on, VuVu used the distraction to reach into the right pocket. She swiftly removed the discs and replaced them with the phoney ones, and was back sitting like a normal plant a second later.
Tyr held and turned both of his sons for everyone to see. Melissa Culpepper used that moment to restart her live feed and got wonderful shots of the new Nietzschean Viceroy, his twin sons, and his wives. Fortunately, Tyr was also wearing his heart melting smile at the time.
A group of 20 women watched Viceroy Anasazi and his entourage approach. They all had a bird's eye view from their window booth seats, in a Promenade restaurant named Stingray Jakk's.
“OMG! WHO is that?” Wilma, one of the ladies asked. They had newly arrived for the Hover Board Championships and had stopped to have dinner. They were in the midst of discussing which events they would be attending. Like thousands of die-hard fans, of the sport, they were either dressed in their favorite team's colors, or carried brightly colored team pennants.
“According to INN's Melissa Culpepper, he is the new Nietzschean Viceroy, Tyr Anasazi. The last son of Barbarossa Anasazi.” Sara answered.
“The last son! How many sons did the man have?” Jia Nian, a Trill queried.
“Fifteen.” Vanessa replied.
“Fif. . . . Fifteen?” Dorathy asked
“And he had like 12 daughters.” B'Tora a Klingon female replied.
“Yeah, I did see a report that Barbarossa died recently. Supposedly, he preselected Tyr to replace him on the throne. Tyr's also a Starfleet Rear Admiral, you know.” Chloe said.
“Ohhhhh! Put him on a plate and serve him up for dessert! I love chocolate!” Candice expressed.
“Girl! Don't you know nothing? The man is a NIETZSCHEAN! And he is an Alpha at that!” Evelyn countered.
“Something you can't handle, Candice.” Jessica replied.
“Nietzschean? What is a Nietzschean?” Candice queried. T'Shana, one of the two Vulcan females in the group launched into a short and detailed description.
“OMG! Multiple wives?” Sharon asked, when T'Shana finished.
“According to INN he already has eight wives, twin sons and four children on the way.” T'Shana replied.
“Sounds like e's tryin' ta catch up with 'is father.” Micheala said in her Kensington accent.
“Prophets alive! That sounds more like a harem.” one of the Bajoran women present stated.
“Unlike a harem, Nietzschean society is matriarchal, so the women have the upper hand. It is THEY who selected him, instead of vise versa.” T'Shana stated.
“Oh! You think he'd be interested in me?” Debbie asked, as she pantomimed fluffing her hair and smiled.
“You'd have to cue up for a try. High status Nietzschean males like Viceroy Anasazi, have hundreds of formal proposals waiting for him .” a lady named Dagny replied.
“I guess that means no girlfriends, eh?” Justine asked.
“Negative. Nietzscheans do not believe in dalliances.” T'Shana replied. “It is either all or nothing at all for them.” she continued.
Twelve women sighed as the watched the holo broadcast screen, that was showing snippets about Tyr. Most of the shots were from afar as his Ceremonial Guard had been given orders to keep the press at bay.
However, it was going to be a different story at the Reception and dinner.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
By the time Tyr arrived, things were in full swing. The event was being held in The Garden Terrace Suite. It was an entire half deck that was reserved for large diplomatic events such as these. It also had a commanding view of the starboard docking bay and The Insurrection. Tyr smiled to himself upon espying “his baby” in the huge, clear steel, panoramic, windows. He frowned immediately afterward as he remembered his mission.
He started searching for VuVu. The place had been decorated with many live plants and trees, which created the affect of being in an actual garden. Tyr had prearranged with VuVu that she would signal him, and he would acknowledge her in return.
In the meantime while Tyr searched, he was obligated to chat up and make nice with some of the dignitaries. The first to approach was the Andorian Ambassador Kavv.
“Greetings, Viceroy Anasazi. On the behalf of my people I offer heart felt condolences for your father.” Kavv said.
“Thank you.” Tyr replied. After all what else could he say? With a few trifling words and a heroic life was just dismissed. It made him sick.
“Tyr? Are you gonna be okay with this?” Tamara asked through their link.
“I will be okay. When I start shooting, that's when you will know I have a problem.” Tyr replied in kind.
“That's what I'm trying to avoid, Tyr, the last thing you need is for you wind up in the stockade.” Tamara replied. She never got a response as it seemed like all of the ambassadors took their cue from Kavv and lined up to speak with him.
A trail of them followed as Tyr perused the buffet table. He was hungry but didn't want to partake of a full meal until the business with VuVu was concluded. As it was he had not found her yet. The entire mission hinged upon on locating The Pickpocket Plant and setting events in motion.
Tyr opted for a small bowl of shelled pistachio nuts, and immediately popped a handful into his mouth. Unfortunately INN's Melissa Culpepper - who had been trailing him with a live feed - chose this inopportune time to have her holo-camera crew zero in on him,
“Crap! She would broadcast my face across the universe, while I'm chewing like a Holstein.” Tyr thought sourly, as he turned his head and broad back to her. Melissa swore to herself as Tyr's face was immediately replaced by Cornelius' stern visage.
There was a flurry of activity as Melissa signaled her camera crew back. The last thing she needed was to get blasted. After all, the Point Man of the Ceremonial Guard was armed to the teeth and for good reason.
As the Intergalactic News Network crew pulled back, Tyr saw VuVu. She shook herself like no plant would ever do. Tyr signaled back that he saw her, by scratching his nose, and marked her location. Now for the Romulan Ambassador.
It was not hard finding the man. He was standing in the corner with a group of Romulans and having an involved conversation. The second Tyr laid eyes on the man, he went on alert.
The man was dressed like an ambassador, but his stance was all wrong. He may have claimed to be a peaceful representative of his people, but his demeanor said he was a man of war. Being one himself, Tyr easily recognized all of the “tells”.
“What's the matter, Tyr?” Tamara mind whispered to him. She was decked out in her Class A's for the event, and sipped from a champagne flute of Altire Water.
“The so-called Romulan Ambassador is suspect.” Tyr thought back.
“Ambassador Racurr, suspect? Like spy suspect?” she asked.
“More like high level military suspect. He is here under the guise of Ambassador to spy out the land.” Tyr replied, as he slowly angled towards the man. Tyr was conscious of the INN camera and Ms. Culpepper following in his wake, and did a slow burn, Tamara disappeared for a minute then returned to his side.
“HaxHis also suspected and took precautions.” Tamara stated mentally.
“Tamara. In order to make the switch, I MUST get rid of that INN crew. Short of shooting them, I'll need a distraction.” Tyr mentally projected.
“One distraction coming right up.” Tamara replied, in kind, with a mental smile. Less than a minute later, the INN crew including it's award-winning reporter was overwhelmed by a pack of Dolgarians. Tyr couldn't spare a second to wonder how Tamara had marshaled the pack in such short notice.
Unimpeded, Tyr headed straight for Ambassador's Racurr's corner. They introduced themselves, exchanged pleasantries and continued their conversation as they walked towards VuVu's location.
In the meantime, Tyr assessed the elaborate robes the man was wearing. They were similar to a Vulcan's, but for the life of him, Tyr could not determine where the so-called Ambassador had the discs. According to the reports from Solon, they were supposed to be in his pockets. But, where WERE his pockets?
“I will trust VuVu to find them.” Tyr thought. “After all, she'd been a pickpocket for five years before she was liberated.” he mused.
” Speaking of Solon. . . . . .” Tyr thought as he gazed in the spice dealer cum spy's direction. What he saw made his blood boil.
Solon was closeted in a corner with a large group of Vulcans and having a rather strident whispered conversation.
“It is most fortuitous that I asked Seamus to place hidden multi-directional voice activated recorders in all of the dark corners. Now, all we have to do is wait until the event is over, remove said devise and we shall see who Solon really is.” Tyr thought fiercely.
In the meantime the Ambassador was in place. If Tyr wore a watch, he would've glanced at it. Or he would've anxiously glanced at the wall chrono. However, he just waited, chatted and waited.
”Amanda, please. I cannot continue this charade any longer. Tyr thought, impatiently.
“DADDY!” Alexander exclaimed, as he ran through the crowd, followed closely by Lysander, with Amanda bringing up the rear. Both boys cannon balled into their father, and Tyr bent and lifted one in each arm. All activity in the hall stopped as everyone exclaimed, ohhhed, ahhhed, and commented on their cuteness.And of course their remarkable resemblance to their Dad.
While this was going on, VuVu used the distraction to reach into the right pocket. She swiftly removed the discs and replaced them with the phoney ones, and was back sitting like a normal plant a second later.
Tyr held and turned both of his sons for everyone to see. Melissa Culpepper used that moment to restart her live feed and got wonderful shots of the new Nietzschean Viceroy, his twin sons, and his wives. Fortunately, Tyr was also wearing his heart melting smile at the time.
Pride And Prejudice - Chapter #112
Free Enterprise - Pride and Prejudice - Chapter #112
“. . . . . . . . . So, the Dolgarians wish me to sponsor them as a candidate race to enter The Federation.” Tyr stated to HaxHis.
“Obviously so.” Haxhis replied. Tyr noted both Khan and she had been rather tight lipped during the entire exchange between Stripe and him. Apparently the old tensions between the two races had not eased over the years.
After the Dolgarian delegation had made their request, they'd went one way. Then, Tyr, HaxHis, Khan and Amanda went another and ducked into one of Deep Space Ten's unused offices to hold a private meeting.
“Why me?” Tyr asked.
“Nearly twenty-five years ago a Dolgarian ship crashed on Pinnacle. It just so happened that Barbarossa was with out with his hunting party, and they all witnessed it. They found the crash site and rescued the survivors. The survivors were quietly nursed back to health and quietly returned to their home planet. The reason you did not know about it, is because as per the Dolgarians request, all records of the events were scrubbed from Nietzschean history. However, the Dolgarians kept it as part of theirs, and Barbarossa is a revered hero to them.” Khan said.
Tyr frowned. Barbarossa always made sure he was along on those hunting trips. They were his favorite Father and Son bonding activity.
”Nothing like killing hapless woodland creatures, cooking them over a wood fire, and consuming the resulting meal, to bring father and son together. . . . . . . Tyr thought. ” I would've been eight years old at the time, and. . . .. . . . he vividly recalled the incident.
The hunting party had seen what they thought was a shooting star in the Eastern sky. But, as it got closer, it was coming in at an impossible rate of speed. Obviously, it was a ship that was going to crash. After the impact, the Nietzschean Navy had scrambled ships to investigate, but Barbarossa and his party were closer and thanks to their horses, arrived there faster.
Unfortunately, one of the first orders Barbarossa snapped out, was for Tyr to return to the compound. So, he never saw the ship nor who was rescued from the wreckage. When Tyr asked his father about the events later on that evening, Barbarossa replied “One day, when you become a leader you will learn that not all things you see can be told. Not all things that you don't see, can be explained.” In other words, “Mind your business, Tyr.” The incident was never discussed again.
“Off the record, how do you know so much about the Dolgarians and this incident?” Amanda queried.
“We Katay have listening posts and spy networks.” HaxHis replied. “Though we signed a truce pact with the Dolgarians, we didn't trust them any further than we could toss them. We certainly did not trust them to stay within their own borders. So, we kept an eye on them. Just as we suspected, they blatantly crossed into our territory. That's why they wound up crashing on Pinnacle.” she continued.
”Something is not right here. . . . . .” Tyr thought, as he kept his face inscrutable.
“What was the cause of the crash? Were they fired upon?” Tyr asked.
“We have no clue how the crash happened. And I assure you. The Katay had nothing to do with it . . . . . . .” Haxhis said as she held up her handpaws.
“Are you sure there wasn't a cloaked Katay ship out there somewhere that gave it just a teeny-weeny shove?” Amanda asked. Tyr glanced briefly at her, as he was wondering the very same question.
“No, Madame.” Khan said, in deference to Amanda's new rank. Civilian Attache of Deep Space Ten.
“Who were the survivors?” Tyr asked.
“The Dolgarians have a monarchy ruling system. And the survivors were none other than The Crown Prince, his wife and their six pups.” HaxHis replied.
“Ewww! That doesn't sound good. . . .” Amanda chimed in.
“No, that does not.” Tyr stated. ”Were they out on a family shopping trip, or were they fleeing and seeking exile?” Tyr wondered.
“Was their original destination ever disclosed?” Amanda asked.
“Never. If it was, it was lost in translation.” HaxHis said. Code words meaning if it had been disclosed, it was scrubbed from the records.
“Tyr, were I you, I would not trust them.” HaxHis continued.
“In order to become one of The Federation member races, the Dolgarians MUST have something to bring to the Fedration table. Either advanced weaponry, or technology, advanced scientific knowledge, valuable medical techniques and or cures, ship design, something. We, the Katay have examined the Dolgarians and discovered that aside from the Packleds, they are the most useless race in the galaxy!” Khan stated. Tyr and Amanda both exchanged hard looks.
”That is an awfully strong assessment . . . . . It borders on, dear I say, prejudice?” Tyr thought.
“Surely they must be good for something, besides a good laugh.” Amanda countered.
“Oh, you've noticed that too, eh? That's because they all behave like a bunch of spoiled juvenile delinquents. If they didn't have strong pack leaders and a stable government, we'd be in a universe of trouble!” HaxHis replied.
“Also, be careful with your valuables around them, they are horrendous thieves. Count your fingers after shaking paws with them!” Khan piped up.
“They must have made some kind of advances in space travel if they made it as far as Pinnacle and Deep Space Ten.” Tyr said.
“Yes, they crashed on Pinnacle. . .” Khan started.
“. . . . . and the ship they arrived here in must be on it's last legs! Have you ever seen a Dolgarian ship?” HaxHis asked. Tyr knew she was just asking a rhetorical question.
“No, I have not.” he replied, anyway.
“Neither have I.” Amanda added also. In response,, Khan pulled out his handy-dandy padd, tabbed, referenced the page, and showed Tyr and Amanda the holo.
“You have got to be frelling kidding! Are you sure this wasn't HoloShopped?” Amanda asked, incredulously. Taking the words right out of Tyr's mouth, only he wanted to use much stronger words. In present company, he dared not. All he did was stare and tried mightily not to burst out laughing.
The holo presented something akin to something which came straight from an Old Earth car grave yard. The materials used to build The Dolgarians vessel resembled a collection of cars which had been smashed flat. There was no specific rhyme or reason where pieces were placed. As long as things stuck together, they stayed that way. The thing was a literal flying junk pile!
”No wonder the confounded thing crashed! I'm surprised it made it through the Dolgarian atmosphere!” Tyr thought.
“Have you ever been on one of them?” Amanda asked of both HaxHis and Khan. Both Katay stared back at her as if she had lost her mind.
“I would not be caught . . . . . .” HaxHis started.
“. . . . . . .dead on one of those things!” Khan finished.
“Now, I see why the Dolgarians chose me to sponsor them." Tyr declared as he crossed his arms. "I my selection for or against them would be totally unbiased.” he continued. Both HaxHis and Khan stared at the Nietzschean. That was the last thing they wanted to hear. Amanda silently cheered her consort on.
“But Barbarossa. . . . . .” Khan started.
“The phrase “like father like son” does not apply to Nietzscheans. We raise our children to be individuals, not miniature likenesses of ourselves. Therefore, although I am Barbarossa's son, I have been given a fresh canvass on which to paint. I will consider the Dolgarians appeal for sponsorship, after I've done some personal research on the matter. In the meantime I suggest that you get them a love offering.” Tyr stated.
“A love offering?” Khan asked.
“A symbol of truce. Something to let the Dolgarians know that you welcome them here. That the Katay are at least willing to talk to them, again.” Amanda suggested.
“What kind of offering? Flowers?” HaxHis asked.
“Blueberries.” Tyr replied. Both HaxHis and Khan looked at each other askance.
“BLUEBERRIES?” HaxHis asked, incredulously.
“Barbarossa kept hunting dogs and as a treat, he gave them fresh blueberries. Since Dolgarians ARE canines . . . . .” Tyr suggested. "Blueberries were not only a treat, but they are an excellent source of antioxidants for Canis Familiaris." Tyr thought.
“. . . . . . and invite them to the dinner. . . .” Amanda also suggested.
“Horrors! They might pee on people and things!” A dismayed HaxHis cried. Both Tyr and Amanda stared uncompromisingly at the two Katay. The combination of The Nietzschean Stare Down and the Promethean Gimlet Eye. . . . . . . . .
“Alright,alright, I will invite them.” HaxHis sighed and relented. “I will see if we have a large quantity of fresh blueberries available on the station. If not I will have a rush order sent up from Paradise.” she continued. HaxHis tapped her com badge and gave the orders to her secretary to set things in motion.
“Now, I believe we have a state dinner to attend and like The Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland: We are late to a very important date.” she continued, once finished.
HaxHis, Khan, Tyr and Amanda filed out out of the office, where they were swallowed up by their waiting entourage.
STRIPE
“. . . . . . . . . So, the Dolgarians wish me to sponsor them as a candidate race to enter The Federation.” Tyr stated to HaxHis.
“Obviously so.” Haxhis replied. Tyr noted both Khan and she had been rather tight lipped during the entire exchange between Stripe and him. Apparently the old tensions between the two races had not eased over the years.
After the Dolgarian delegation had made their request, they'd went one way. Then, Tyr, HaxHis, Khan and Amanda went another and ducked into one of Deep Space Ten's unused offices to hold a private meeting.
“Why me?” Tyr asked.
“Nearly twenty-five years ago a Dolgarian ship crashed on Pinnacle. It just so happened that Barbarossa was with out with his hunting party, and they all witnessed it. They found the crash site and rescued the survivors. The survivors were quietly nursed back to health and quietly returned to their home planet. The reason you did not know about it, is because as per the Dolgarians request, all records of the events were scrubbed from Nietzschean history. However, the Dolgarians kept it as part of theirs, and Barbarossa is a revered hero to them.” Khan said.
Tyr frowned. Barbarossa always made sure he was along on those hunting trips. They were his favorite Father and Son bonding activity.
”Nothing like killing hapless woodland creatures, cooking them over a wood fire, and consuming the resulting meal, to bring father and son together. . . . . . . Tyr thought. ” I would've been eight years old at the time, and. . . .. . . . he vividly recalled the incident.
The hunting party had seen what they thought was a shooting star in the Eastern sky. But, as it got closer, it was coming in at an impossible rate of speed. Obviously, it was a ship that was going to crash. After the impact, the Nietzschean Navy had scrambled ships to investigate, but Barbarossa and his party were closer and thanks to their horses, arrived there faster.
Unfortunately, one of the first orders Barbarossa snapped out, was for Tyr to return to the compound. So, he never saw the ship nor who was rescued from the wreckage. When Tyr asked his father about the events later on that evening, Barbarossa replied “One day, when you become a leader you will learn that not all things you see can be told. Not all things that you don't see, can be explained.” In other words, “Mind your business, Tyr.” The incident was never discussed again.
“Off the record, how do you know so much about the Dolgarians and this incident?” Amanda queried.
“We Katay have listening posts and spy networks.” HaxHis replied. “Though we signed a truce pact with the Dolgarians, we didn't trust them any further than we could toss them. We certainly did not trust them to stay within their own borders. So, we kept an eye on them. Just as we suspected, they blatantly crossed into our territory. That's why they wound up crashing on Pinnacle.” she continued.
”Something is not right here. . . . . .” Tyr thought, as he kept his face inscrutable.
“What was the cause of the crash? Were they fired upon?” Tyr asked.
“We have no clue how the crash happened. And I assure you. The Katay had nothing to do with it . . . . . . .” Haxhis said as she held up her handpaws.
“Are you sure there wasn't a cloaked Katay ship out there somewhere that gave it just a teeny-weeny shove?” Amanda asked. Tyr glanced briefly at her, as he was wondering the very same question.
“No, Madame.” Khan said, in deference to Amanda's new rank. Civilian Attache of Deep Space Ten.
“Who were the survivors?” Tyr asked.
“The Dolgarians have a monarchy ruling system. And the survivors were none other than The Crown Prince, his wife and their six pups.” HaxHis replied.
“Ewww! That doesn't sound good. . . .” Amanda chimed in.
“No, that does not.” Tyr stated. ”Were they out on a family shopping trip, or were they fleeing and seeking exile?” Tyr wondered.
“Was their original destination ever disclosed?” Amanda asked.
“Never. If it was, it was lost in translation.” HaxHis said. Code words meaning if it had been disclosed, it was scrubbed from the records.
“Tyr, were I you, I would not trust them.” HaxHis continued.
“In order to become one of The Federation member races, the Dolgarians MUST have something to bring to the Fedration table. Either advanced weaponry, or technology, advanced scientific knowledge, valuable medical techniques and or cures, ship design, something. We, the Katay have examined the Dolgarians and discovered that aside from the Packleds, they are the most useless race in the galaxy!” Khan stated. Tyr and Amanda both exchanged hard looks.
”That is an awfully strong assessment . . . . . It borders on, dear I say, prejudice?” Tyr thought.
“Surely they must be good for something, besides a good laugh.” Amanda countered.
“Oh, you've noticed that too, eh? That's because they all behave like a bunch of spoiled juvenile delinquents. If they didn't have strong pack leaders and a stable government, we'd be in a universe of trouble!” HaxHis replied.
“Also, be careful with your valuables around them, they are horrendous thieves. Count your fingers after shaking paws with them!” Khan piped up.
“They must have made some kind of advances in space travel if they made it as far as Pinnacle and Deep Space Ten.” Tyr said.
“Yes, they crashed on Pinnacle. . .” Khan started.
“. . . . . and the ship they arrived here in must be on it's last legs! Have you ever seen a Dolgarian ship?” HaxHis asked. Tyr knew she was just asking a rhetorical question.
“No, I have not.” he replied, anyway.
“Neither have I.” Amanda added also. In response,, Khan pulled out his handy-dandy padd, tabbed, referenced the page, and showed Tyr and Amanda the holo.
“You have got to be frelling kidding! Are you sure this wasn't HoloShopped?” Amanda asked, incredulously. Taking the words right out of Tyr's mouth, only he wanted to use much stronger words. In present company, he dared not. All he did was stare and tried mightily not to burst out laughing.
The holo presented something akin to something which came straight from an Old Earth car grave yard. The materials used to build The Dolgarians vessel resembled a collection of cars which had been smashed flat. There was no specific rhyme or reason where pieces were placed. As long as things stuck together, they stayed that way. The thing was a literal flying junk pile!
”No wonder the confounded thing crashed! I'm surprised it made it through the Dolgarian atmosphere!” Tyr thought.
“Have you ever been on one of them?” Amanda asked of both HaxHis and Khan. Both Katay stared back at her as if she had lost her mind.
“I would not be caught . . . . . .” HaxHis started.
“. . . . . . .dead on one of those things!” Khan finished.
“Now, I see why the Dolgarians chose me to sponsor them." Tyr declared as he crossed his arms. "I my selection for or against them would be totally unbiased.” he continued. Both HaxHis and Khan stared at the Nietzschean. That was the last thing they wanted to hear. Amanda silently cheered her consort on.
“But Barbarossa. . . . . .” Khan started.
“The phrase “like father like son” does not apply to Nietzscheans. We raise our children to be individuals, not miniature likenesses of ourselves. Therefore, although I am Barbarossa's son, I have been given a fresh canvass on which to paint. I will consider the Dolgarians appeal for sponsorship, after I've done some personal research on the matter. In the meantime I suggest that you get them a love offering.” Tyr stated.
“A love offering?” Khan asked.
“A symbol of truce. Something to let the Dolgarians know that you welcome them here. That the Katay are at least willing to talk to them, again.” Amanda suggested.
“What kind of offering? Flowers?” HaxHis asked.
“Blueberries.” Tyr replied. Both HaxHis and Khan looked at each other askance.
“BLUEBERRIES?” HaxHis asked, incredulously.
“Barbarossa kept hunting dogs and as a treat, he gave them fresh blueberries. Since Dolgarians ARE canines . . . . .” Tyr suggested. "Blueberries were not only a treat, but they are an excellent source of antioxidants for Canis Familiaris." Tyr thought.
“. . . . . . and invite them to the dinner. . . .” Amanda also suggested.
“Horrors! They might pee on people and things!” A dismayed HaxHis cried. Both Tyr and Amanda stared uncompromisingly at the two Katay. The combination of The Nietzschean Stare Down and the Promethean Gimlet Eye. . . . . . . . .
“Alright,alright, I will invite them.” HaxHis sighed and relented. “I will see if we have a large quantity of fresh blueberries available on the station. If not I will have a rush order sent up from Paradise.” she continued. HaxHis tapped her com badge and gave the orders to her secretary to set things in motion.
“Now, I believe we have a state dinner to attend and like The Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland: We are late to a very important date.” she continued, once finished.
HaxHis, Khan, Tyr and Amanda filed out out of the office, where they were swallowed up by their waiting entourage.
STRIPE
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