The Third Son - #133

Melissa and her team stood aside and watched as Dr. Kori  and Nurse Sutherland went into action.  Prepping  Desi for birth and seating her in the birthing chair.  She had arrived in the nick of time, a minute or so later and the babe would've been born either in the turbo lift or the corridor.


After a few minutes of frantic action a lusty cry rent the air.  


"It's a boy!"  Kori announced as she cleaned and scanned the newest addition to Pride Kodiak and the Anasazi Clan.  She gently wrapped him in a blue blanket and handed him to Tyr as Neitzschean tradition dictated.   Tyr smiled and cuddle the babe for a second, removed the blanket.  


"With the universe as my witness, I name this son to honor my father's dying request.  He shall be called Barbarossa II."  Tyr intoned, as he held the babe aloft.  


Unknown to him, in multi verse, The Janeway Q and her contingent watched with approval.  Janeway Q gazed across the multi verse and espied at a much younger and healthier Barbarossa.  He smiled at her and gave a silent "thumbs up".  


"Barbarossa approves."  she said to no one in particular.  


However, Fatou heard.  She wisely waited until Tyr had wrapped and returned Barbarossa II to Desi to nurse.  to tell Tyr while he still held the child, well, he may have dropped him. . . . .


Fatou drew Tyr aside.


"Your father approves."  she whispered to him.  Tyr gazed at Fatou in shock.  He'd had no idea that the Katay could communicate with the dead!  


"No, Tyr.  It's not what you think.  You forget, the Q are here looking for Q.  The Q can see into infinite realms.  The Q queen, if you want to call her that, can see Barbarossa and he approves.  She merely transmitted his message to me."  Fatou explained.


"Have you tried to communicate with this Q queen?"  Tyr asked.  He felt as if he had been struck upside the head by a brick, but bore up because he wanted more information.  Anything to help get his ship and crew out of this so called "bubble".  


No, I  . . . . . "  Was all Fatou was able to say.  There was a shout from outside in Sickbay's waiting room.  In came Harper assisting Monique, who was on the verge of dropping her load right there.  


Dr. Kori took one look at her and started prepping her right away.  


"My!  Is it always this busy down here?"  Melissa asked.  She and her team were certainly getting enough footage to send back, if and when they ever got back home.


"It's usually very quiet."  as female resembling Hallie Berry replied, as she assisted Xena and the newborn Barbarossa.


Melissa did a double take upon realizing the woman was an Emergency Medical Hologram.


"My name is Eve, by the way."  she said.


"And I am . .  . . ."  Melissa started.


"Melissa Kulpepper the famous UNN reporter."  Eve said and smiled. 


"Actually, formerly famous UNN reporter.  I now work for Anasazi Estate."  Melissa replied.  


"Welcome aboard."  Eve said and smiled.  Melissa knew right then that they were going to become good friends.

When You Least Expect It - #132

Melissa had thought after the meeting she would be free to return to her quarters and do what she wished. This was not to be so because, Admiral Anasazi wanted to give her a guided tour of The Insurrection.

So she, T'kell, Skorr and Fatou, traipsed along behind Tyr as he proudly narrated interesting facts and showed off “his baby”. It was the easiest job she'd every done because all Skorr had to do was record the audio and video like a documentary.

Tyr had saved the best for last. As soon as they entered Sickbay's doors, Darwin (in his anti-gravity planter) whizzed right up to them. Scaring the stew beans out of Melissa, fascinating both T'Kell and Skorr and irritating the heck out of Tyr. Fatou liked Darwin so she merely pulled her whiskers back with mirth.

“Greetings folks! How my I help you?” Darwin asked. Further shocking Melissa, as she had never seen a plant with such googly eyes, nor heard one speak until now.

“I was not aware that Sickbay had an official greeter.” Tyr deadpanned.

“DARWIN! Who are you harassing now? This is Sickbay, not a cheesy brothel on Risa!” Kori's voice shouted.

“Ops! Time to get the hell outta Dodge!” Darwin said, as he shrunk down into his planter and sped away.

“Fascinating. A Kensington-Smythe Plant.” T'Kell stated to Skorr through their marital link.

“ I'd heard they were totally extinct.” Skorr thought back.

“Apparently not. At least he is not. . . ” T'Kell thought back.

“What the hell was that?” Melissa asked aloud.

“The plant or the harridan shouting?” Tyr asked, with no trace of humor whatsoever. Behind them Fatou chuffed.

“Both.” Melissa stated.

“The ficus is a Kessington-Smythe Plant. It is a very intelligent and social plant, is capable of speech, is somewhat prehensile, and nosy as hell.”T'kell explained.

“The loud femme fatal roar you heard was none other than my Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Kori. . . . .” Tyr started but never finished.  The one whom he was speaking about chose that very second to make an appearance. Melissa backed up because the good doctor was a tall Klingon female, dressed in Starfleet Medical blue (including white coat) who was also carrying a pair of old fashioned hedge clippers.

“.. . . . If I get my hands on that Darwin, I'll, I'll.” she muttered. “Oh hello! I was wondering when The Admiral was going to bring you down to meet me, Ms. Culpepper. I've heard all about you.” Kori said by way of introduction. Though honored, Melissa gazed at the clippers dubiously.

“Oh,don't mind this old thing. I just use it to keep Darwin in check. He tends to get cheeky at times and it helps to remind him who's boss. . . .” she continued, as she handed the implement off to one of her staff.

“Why don't we retire to my office where we can have Raktigino and crumpets.. . . . .” Kori stated as she led the way. Melissa was shocked to find the Chief Medical Officers inner sanctum was a miniature version of Hydroponics. There were plants sitting on every available space except her desk. There only one plant sat.

After everyone sat there was one chair left. Everyone silently gazed back at The Admiral who was still standing at the door.

“I'll stand, Thank you.” he stated to no one in particular. Fatou refrained from chuffing because she knew why.

Out of the corner of her left eye, Melissa caught a slight movement, but before her mind to register it, she was thrown to the deck and covered by T'Kell. Skorr stood in front of the Good Doctor's desk poised in a martial arts stance with his arms up and ready to battle against. . . . VuVu's reaching tendrils.

“No! VuVu! Bad, bad, girl! Bad!” Kori fussed at the plant. VuVu whimpered and drew back. “I am so sorry I didn't warn you about VuVu. I'm so used to living and working around her that I forgot about her insatiable curiosity. She knows you're here Admiral. Why don't you say hi?” Kori asked of the chocolate colored Nietzschean statue standing at the door. By way of acknowledgment, Tyr grinned and waggled the fingers on his left hand at VuVu.

“Oh my, I thought you two had gotten beyond that stage.” Kori said, as Melissa and T'Kell stood, dusted each other off and sat. Skorr returned to his seat and frowned.

“Hey! I know what kind of plant that is. It's a Thief Plant.” Melissa said.

“That's close. She's actually classified as a Pick Pocket Plant.” Kori replied.

“The Ferrengi made liberal use of them in their Dabo Parlors and drinking establishments.. . . . .” Skorr started.

“Hello! Did anyone miss me?” Darwin asked as he burst into Kori's office, nearly knocking Tyr flat.

“Serves him right for standing in the door like some kind of sentry. . . . ..“ Fatou thought, as she swept her whiskers with mirth.

“Ensign Jeffers, can you please bring a pot of Rakitgino and a plate of pastries to my office?” Kori said over the comm. 


“Am I correct in assuming that you would like some aspirin with yours, Admiral?” Kori asked sweetly.

Tyr grunted and rolled his expressive brown eyes, as he sat in the last seat available. The one closest to the edge of Kori's desk. So,VuVu was able to reach out and curl one leafy vine about his left bicep. On his right sat Darwin in his anti-gravity planter as he gazed questioningly at The Admiral. Tyr was effectively surrounded. Melissa locked eyes with Fatou, then TKell, and Skorr, last of allKori who winked and smiled.

“Catch!” Kori said, as she tossed the packet of analgesic tabs to Tyr, which he expertly caught on the fly with his right hand. Ensign Jeffers handed around cups of Rakitgino, and set down a tray of pastries. Tyr opened his packet and dumped the tabs directly into his cup of hot liquid. He took a sip and frowned. The aspirin had made his Raktigino bitter.

“Bitter,eh?” Darwin asked.

Tyr grunted, grabbed a scone and bit off a third of it to kill the taste.  It also prevented him from firing off a snarky remark to Darwin.

“So, Ms. Culpepper, how did you become interested in Intergalactic journalism?” Kori asked, pleasantly.

** * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Mean while back on Deep Space Ten, a Nietzschean couple with a five year old daughter was ushered directly into Fleet Admiral Haxhis office. Upon seeing the Katay Admiral and Councilor Khan, the little girl stare dup at them in open eyed and mouthed wonder.

“Anne. It is rude to stare so. Say hello to the nice Admiral and her aide.” her mother chided.

“Hello.” Anne said.

“Actually her name is Anemone.” her father pipped up proudly.

“Hello Anemone. My name is Haxhista and he is Khan.” Haxhis started as she pointed to herself and Khan, by way of introduction. “ I hear you have a message for me.” Haxhis said as she knelt in front ofthe little one. “Who is it from?”

“Queen Mother Victoria.” the little girl replied. Haxhis looked up ather parents for confirmation. Both looked as serious as a heartattack.

“Forgive me for asking, but are you both. . . . .?” Khan asked.

“No we are not, but she is telepathic.” the mother replied.

“What do you have to tell me, Anemone?” Haxhis asked.

“Queen Mother Victoria greets you in the name of The Divine and says to tell you that she is safe. She will be in touch with more information soon.” Anemone recited.

“Thank you, Anemone. Will you please relay to her my greetings and heartfelt joy that she is safe? Also, please tell her that we are still hard at work on the project.” Haxhis said. She trusted Victoria was savy enough to know “the project” was the hunt for her son, his ship and crew.

“YesI will, Ma'am.” Anemone replied. She blinked and concentrated a bit, then smiled a beatific little girl smile.

“All done, Ma'am.” she replied.

“Thank you.” Haxhis said. “You are both welcome to bring her back anytime you want.” The Admiral stated as she stood and addressed her parents. Obviously, Anemone was going to be her contact person while Victoria was in exile.

“Thank You Admiral, but we have not introduced ourselves.” The mother started.

“You are Helena and Dionysus Wolffe. My children are in Anemone's class.” Khan said, as both parents smiled.

“Yes, she is.” Helena replied.

“Have you also considered having her enrolled in Vulcan telepathic training?” Khan asked. He had to ask, it was his calling to always ask. . . . . .

“As a matter of fact we have an appointment to see Professor Thall in ten minutes about that subject.” Dionysus replied.

“He is one of the best.” Khan replied approvingly.

“And you mustn't be late, because the professor is a stickler for timeliness.” Haxhis said. “Thanks again.” she continued, as the small family left her office. Before the door closed Anemone turned and waved. Both Haxhis and Khan waved back.

“Now, Counselor, can you please explain how Anemone received that message?” Haxhis asked as she reseated herself.

“Pride Secreto has a form of telepathic communication called strangely enough, The Moccasin Telegraph. The history of those words date back to the Old Earth American Indian tribes who used to receive news when tribe members walked from one location to another to visit.” Khan began.

“Oh,I see, it's something like the grape vine.” Haxhis replied.

“Yes,only it is done telepathically. The message is passed from one telepath to another like that Earth game “telephone” until it reaches it's destination. However, when the message reaches the destination it is not all fouled up like the game of telephone is supposed to do. It is precisely what the sender meant to send.” Khan replied.

“And a child shall lead them. . . . . . By the way, how are your children doing?” Haxhis asked, turning the tide on Khan.

“They are having a wonderful time. It is I who is suffering.” Khanreplied, as he pulled back his whiskers with mirth. “I had no clue mothering was such an arduous task!” he continued.

“Welcome to the parent club, Khan.” Haxhis chuffed.

“I've always shared the task of caring for our kits, to do everything alone it is nearly impossible. I can see why Nietzschean males marry multiple wives or why some races have slaves.” Khan joked. “Not that I would ever approve of or enter into such practices.” he further justified.

“They are old enough to do simple chores around the den now. It may not be done perfectly, but let them help anyway. It will keep them busy,out of trouble and teach them to be responsible.” Haxhis said, recalling her mischievous nieces and nephews.

The first thing she did when she had them over for a visit was to put them to work. As a consequence they all hated coming over to see her. Their stances changed as they got older and took on mates. . .. . .

“I know you miss Fatou.” she stated.

“I most certainly do.” Khan replied. “The kits not so much, only in the beginning because I cannot cook.”

“Khan! It's the easiest thing to put a couple of fish the grill or. . .” Haxhis started.

“I stank at cooking so much that the poor kits refused to eat whatever I produce. I couldn't stomach it either, so I made arrangements withTabji to prepare meals for us until Fatou returns.” Khan replied.

Tabji was an older Katay female who'd opened the first Katay restaurant on Deep Space Ten. Tabji's was an instant hit with the Katay (The Fleet Admrial included), and those who loved fish dishes. What Tabji and her staff did to their food was simply magical and delicious.

“We are doing all we can to get them back, Khan.” Haxhis said softly.

“Thank you Haxhistia. I know and appreciate the effort. But, rescue will not be for a while yet. Past the six week deadline as a matter offact. So I advise you to prepare for the impending diplomatic and media firestorm.” Khan replied.

“That bad?” Haxhis asked, now on alert. It was very rarely Khan gave her one of his infamous predictions. Every time he made one, of course it was right on the money.

“Yes.” Khan replied simply.

“What about Tyr, his ship and crew?” she hazarded. After all, if he was willing to impart one prediction, perhaps another. . . . .

“They will be found safe and sound. However, some will have to endure the crucible.” Khan replied. Haxhis' jaw dropped.

“I cannot tell who or whom, but these things must happen.” Khan saidin response to her reaction.

Haxhis reached over and tabbed the button on her desk console.

“T'Lar. I need you to clear all of my appointments for the rest of the day and alert all of my immediate command staff that I wish to have an emergency meeting with them, here in 30 minutes.” Haxhis ordered.

“Aye, Ma'am.” T'Lar's voice responded.

“So it begins.” Khan said.

** * * * * * * * * * *

Mean while on the Insurrection, Ms. Culpepper aka Ms. Sirus was having a lively discussion with Dr. Kori when, when her desk comm cut in.

“Doctor Kori, you are needed in the main ward.” Nurse Summers voice calmlysaid.

“What is the problem?” Kori asked.

“Captain McPhearson and Lieutenant Xenia just brought Desdemona in. Her water broke.” was Summers response. The words hardly left her lips when Kori vaulted over her desk and charged out of her office, followed byTyr. Melissa, T'Kell, and Skorr.

“I must remember to ask the Good Doctor if she learned that move in Starfleet Academy.” Melissa thought to herself as she raced to follow.

Free Enterprise - A Deal Is Struck #131

Melissa started out of her sleep by someone calling her name mentally. She smiled crookedly because she recognized the voice as her “consort's”.

“I know this is your day off, and I'm sorry to wake you, but The Admiral wishes to see you ASAP.” Dragon said.

“Awwwww fudge!” Melissa fussed as she tossed back the covers and ran for the fresher.

“You must be ready for me to escort you to The Captain's Mess in ten minutes.” Dragon thought.

“Hell, the only way I can be ready in ten minutes is to get dressed while I'm in the sonic shower.” Melissa fussed to herself as she turned on the sonics.

Two minutes later she dashed out of the fresher in a panic. She hadn't a clue what to wear until she espied her clothes rack. T'Kell had laid out one of her suits, a pair of shoes and a matching shawl.

Melissa was dressed in five minutes flat. She stopped at the mirror to check her clothing and face, apply a soft shade of lipstick, then dashed out of her quarters. Out in the corridor she blundered into Dragon and nearly fell flat.

“What. . . . . what. . . . You are early.” she fussed as he steadied her.

“Yes, I am.” Dragon said and smiled. “Come. The Admiral is not a patient man.” he continued, as they headed to the nearest lift.

“Don't I know it.” Melissa chuckled.

Upon arrival at The Captain's Mess, Dragon escorted Melissa in and made a hasty retreat. The experienced INN reporter immediately took stock of the situation.

Admiral Anasazi was sitting at the table with Captain McPhearson and Fatou. His third wife Desdemona was helping Gynn, the Andorian head steward and cook, set out a breakfast spread. Melissa smiled as she noticed Desi's belly.

“She looks like she's about to drop her load any minute now.” she thought.

“Good Morning, Admiral.” she said pleasantly.

“Likewise Ms. Culpepper, or should I call you Lady Sirus instead?” Tyr asked.

At the mention of that name, all four women stopped and stared at The Admiral. Melissa was flabbergasted, as she thought they had kept their relationship under wraps.

“It is my business to know what transpires on my ship, even if it may be gossip. I believe congratulations are in order.” Tyr replied and smiled. A genuine smile that lit up the entire room.

“Jesus. No wonder the man has eight wives.” Melissa thought.

“Thank you, Sir.” Melissa replied, as she smiled and blushed.

“You are welcome. Now, please have a seat. We have much to discuss.” Tyr said.


* * * * * * * * * * * * *


Queen Mother Victoria had arrived at her destination. Her Ceremonial Guard formed up around her followed by her attendants, Ladies in Waiting and staff.
It was an impressive entourage which was met by an equally impressive one. A delegation of Pride Secreto.

“Greetings Lady Anasazi, Queen mother of all Nietzscheans. I am War Cloud, Chief Elder of the Governing Council. Welcome to Xibrus, our humble abode.” an American Indian male said, as he held up his right hand in traditional greeting. War Cloud was dressed to the nines in ceremonial garb, including an impressive warbonnet.

“Greetings War Cloud. Thank you for taking us in at such short notice.” Victoria replied as she looked up.

Xibrus was a world ship, a totally artificial construct which was a testimony to the Nietzschean's fierce determination. If they didn't have a planet to live on, they built one. This particular world ship was smack dab in the middle of the badlands, where no one would ever think of looking, and if they did, they wouldn't last long doing so.

Outside Xirbus looked similar to a Borg Cube, only it was round. Past the outer shell where ships entered and egressed, there was an inner shell with a living, breathing environment with real parks, grass, trees, vegetation and cities.

Victoria looked up at the outer gantries where the residents had gathered to welcome her. There had to be millions present and they were all singing.

“This is where Secreto has been all of this time?” Victoria asked in awe.
“Yes, Lady.” War Cloud replied. It was then Victoria noticed a large contingent of Vulcans and Katay.

“Who better to teach Pride Secreto how to harness and utilize their talent.” she thought.

“Lady, we have lodging prepared for yourself and your court. Please come with me.” War Cloud said, interrupting her wool-gathering. As she followed War Cloud, Victoria remembered the song Xibrus' residents were singing. It's was a child's welcome home song.


* * * * * * * * * *


Meanwhile back on the Insurrection a big powwow was being held. However, there was no drums being played, no singing and no passing of the peace pipe. Only passing of the plate of eggs, butter, pancakes and other breakfast foods.

Tyr had finally gotten down to the business of discussing with Melissa the idea of her being his personal news correspondent.

For now, they had each buried the hatchet (thankfully not in each others backs) and were dealing with one another in a civil and professional manner. Possibly enhanced by the fact that Tamara, Fatou, and Desi were present.

“In order for me to work exclusively for you . . . . Viceroy, you would have to provide compensation for my associates and I. That means a larger salary than we are already receiving from INN, plus room and board.” Melissa said. She'd decided that she was going drive a hard bargain.

“What is your currently salary?” Tyr asked. Melissa quoted a figure. Seated to Tyr's right Tamara raised her right eyebrow in typical Vulcan fashion.

“If I served in Star Fleet for the remainder of my days I would never see that amount!” Tamara thought to herself.

“How much do your associates earn?” Tyr asked. In response Melissa quoted another figure. Tyr sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers and looked for all the universe like a Dread Locked Vulcan.

To the left of Desi where Fatou sat, The Katay rolled her eyes.

“Oh my Divine! It's such a haaarrrdddd decision!” she thought. “The man is such a drama king!”

“Consider it done and your employment begins now. I will have Ensign Siddiq draw up the legal documents for you and your associates to sign ASAP.” Tyr said. “In the meantime my restriction on your ship wide access has been rescinded. However, Engineering and the Bridge will remain off limits to you unless you are escorted by myself, senior personnel or your consort. I need not remind you what will happen if you are caught in those areas without an escort?” he continued.

“No you don't, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Melissa replied, as she imagined the uproar they were going to cause at INN when all three of them filed their resignations. . . . . .

“That's if The Insurrection ever gets out of this bubble we are stuck in.” Melissa thought.

Free Enterprise - Dinner With Dragon #130

Melissa and Dragon were out on their first date. They didn't consider it a date though. The meeting as a sort of get together around a good meal to find out a little more about one another. In reality it was to size up and scrutinize each others potential.

Melissa didn't consider herself dressed up. She didn't bring any of her dressy clothing on this particular outing. She'd packed just enough to tide her over. Whatever else she needed had to be replicated. T'Kell had replicated a rose colored Sari outfit which Melissa wore with a pair of ballet like flats. She looked very exotic and feminine.

Dragon was a different matter. He was was dressed in his Nietzschean best. He was garbed in a matching light gray body hugging outfit which was made from leather. The shirt had no sleeves which placed great emphasis on his forearms, biceps and wide shoulders. He wore black boots and black bone blade gauntlets. He was the perfect Nietzschean Man 'O War and Prince Charming rolled into one.

An Ensign had led them to a private and reserved table, and handed them each a menu after they had settled into their chairs.

“I thought your eyes were brown.” Melissa said, as she frowned at Dragon.

“They are, but they tend to change according to what I wear or how I feel sometimes.” Dragon replied.

“You have mood ring eyes.” Melissa remarked, as she removed her combo veil/head covering, and arranged it around her shoulders like a shawl.

“Mood ring eyes? What are mood rings?” Dragon asked.

“They were a big fad back on Old Earth in the 1970's. The rings were made from cheap metal, topped with an equally worthless color-changing stone. Lots of people wore them because the stone supposedly changed color according to one's mood. There was a sort of color chart and according to it, red meant you were angry, blue meant you were calm, I forget what black and green meant. A friend gave me one as a gag gift two years ago, but it always stayed black when I wore it . . . . . ..“ Melissa replied. She had been told black either meant she was either cold hearted or she was stressed out.

“Why would. . . . . why would people want to wear something that clearly broadcasts what kind of mood they have?” Dragon asked.

“The same reason two people would get together to have dinner and talk. To see if they are a potential match.” Melissa replied, as she gave him the age old “You know what I mean.” look.

“No, I would not know. My people as a rule do not engage in such dalliances.” Dragon replied. Though young, he was incredibly astute.

“Hey, what are we having for dinner?” she asked, as a means of distraction. She had scanned the menu and wasn't really sure what she wanted.

“Let's see what he orders.” she thought.

“How about Chicken Cordon Blue?” he asked and smiled.

“Wow!! Fancy shmancy!” she replied. Melissa was impressed.

“I usually stick to plain meals and salads, but I like to have something nice once in a while. And this is a special occasion, isn't it?” he asked.

“Sort of. I haven't had Chicken Cordon Blue in years.” she replied as she put up her menu. Seconds later the steward returned and Dragon gave him their orders.

“So tell me about your Starfleet Career. What was the first ship you served on?” Melissa asked.

“The first ship I served on straight out of the Academy was the USS Nimitz. I served on her for five years. The next ship was the USS Sally Ride for another five years. I was just transferred on to the Insurrection six months ago.” Dragon replied. Melissa did some quick calculations in her mind. . . .

“Wait a minute. How old are you?” she asked and frowned.

“Twenty-five.” he replied.

“OMG! I'm robbing the cradle!” she thought to herself.

“How. . . .how old were you when you entered Starfleet Academy?” she asked hesitantly.

“Fifteen.” Dragon replied. Melissa stared in horror.

“I thought Starfleet did not take beings until a specified age.” she stammered.

“This is true, but that is based upon the Human standard, and Nietzscheans are an exceptions to that rule. Due to our accelerated growth factor, we are mentally, and physically, mature, and considered legal adults at age 15.” Dragon replied. Melissa tried to picture Dragon at age 15 and failed miserably.

“So you are how old. . . . .” Melissa started.

“Twenty-five.” he replied. Melissa comforted herself with the fact that she was just ten years older than Dragon, not twelve or fifteen, as she had originally believed.

“What kind of Starships did you serve on?” Melissa asked, changing the subject. At the same time the food arrived.

“The Nimitz is a Dreadnaught Class. The Sally Ride is a Voyager Class, and the Insurrection. . . . .” Dragon started.

“. . . . . . .Is an Akira Class Star Ship. She'd heavily armed and loaded for bear. She is designed to provide armed escorts, attack, defend, pursue and destroy.” Melissa finished.

“You've certainly done your research.” Dragon said and smiled.

“When you are INN's top correspondent, you must stay on top of as many things as possible.” she replied. “Speaking of which, Sally Ride was Old Earth's first female astronaut, wasn't she?” Melissa continued. She was about to say more when Dragon put his finger up to his lips signaling quiet.

“Yes she was, Melissa. But, please eat your food. Cold Chicken Cordon Blue is disgusting.” he admonished. They both tucked in.

About three hours later, both were still sitting at the same table, and both were talked out. Both told everything from childhood stories to career horror stories. The 88 Lounge wait staff had cleared off all of the tables. They were discreetly hovering about in the background waiting for the couple to leave. They wanted to complete their cleaning and close up, like yesterday. . . . . .

“Thank you so much for the dinner. I had a wonderful time, but I'd better get going. I've got duty tomorrow.” Melissa said.

“You are welcome. But before you go. . . . .” Dragon started as he gently took her right hand in his. Melissa's eyes bugged and she squeaked in surprise. Just like that, he was present in her mind.

Melissa was well aware what telepathic links were like, because she shared light ones with T'Kell and Skorr. But this one was nothing like that! Instead of the typical slow Vulcan mind meld decent, Dragon's link could be likened to him opening a door, stepping in and finding Melissa in her undies. . . . . . .

“Are you alright? I did not intend to frighten you.” Dragon thought apologetically, as let her hand go. Though they were separate, the link still remained.

“My God! I did not know.” Melissa thought back. “You are a Tele-Nietzschean aren't you?” she inquired. Melissa sensed him wince, and regretted asking.

“We have not called ourselves that since The Great Cleansing. We've re-named ourselves Pride Secreto.” Dragon replied.

“Wow!” Melissa thought.

“Oh my, we better go. These poor folks need to clean up and close.” she said verbally as she rose. Dragon rose with her.

“Walk you home?” he asked.

“It's not far.” Melissa replied. Knowing full well he probably knew every nook and cranny of The Insurrection.

“It doesn't matter.” he replied.

“And I won't mind the company.” she said, as she pulled up her shawl to cover her head. They both thanked the 88 Lounge staff and apologized for holding them up, then left hand in hand.

Much to their dismay, even when they walked slow, it took them less then ten minutes to arrive at Melissa's VIP Quad that she shared with T'Kell and Skorr.

When they arrived at the door, Dragon meant to let go of Melissa's hand, give her a chaste kiss on the forehead and leave. But she held fast.

“You might as well come in.” she thought and smiled.

Dragon quickly glanced down the corridor in both directions, then ducked into the quad with her.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile both T'Kell and Skorr lay wide awake in bed like two worried parents. After raising a successive line of children, grand and great-grand children, Melissa was more of an adoptee to them than an employer. They had been hired to look after her, and they took their charge very seriously.

“A telepathic Nietzschean?” Skorr asked his spouse with both eyebrows raised.

Both Vulcans had detected that Dragon possessed an unprecedented amount of mental shielding as if he were a Kholenar Adept. Naturally the next most logical question was: “Why would a Nietzschean have such shielding, unless?” But the answer seemed to be far fetched.

“Damned Skippy.” T'Kell replied.

“T'Kell. Your response is most illogical.” Skorr replied.

“That is precisely why you married me, Skorr.” Tkell replied.

“I suppose so.” he replied.

“Now, who is being illogical?” she asked.

“T'Kell, this is not the time to discuss logic.” Skorr replied.

“No, it is not, my husband.” she replied.

Free Enterprise - After The Fall #128

Ares sat back as he listened to the latest update from Cassius. The news was bittersweet. Ares was very close to and dearly loved his older brother. he had no clue the man had been planning a coup. According to Cassius, Agamemnon also had designs on seceding The Nietzschean Empire from the Federation.

“What was left of it after civil war, and war with the Katay. . . . .” Ares thought.

“The rest of his dissident followers are being tracked down as we speak. I suspect many have gone into hiding and some have fled Pinnacle, but we will find them.” Cassius reported confidently.

“What about that ship Agamemnon sent to Deep Space Ten?” Ares asked.

“The Abakan? It suddenly and mysteriously exploded on it's return trip to Pinnacle.” Cassius replied, as casually as if he was discussing a solar storm. Ares simply stared at the man.

“It was a simple task one of my small ordinance specialists took care of.” Cassius said, in reply to Ares unasked question. Ares had heard that The Enforcers where a whole different breed of Nietzschean, but he had no idea how much so until now. . .

“I suppose one would have to be in order to hunt down and kill one or more of your own race. I just hope it is not all for naught.” Ares thought as he pictured his mother's face.

It had been three days since Victoria had left Pinnacle and went into exile, and he had not heard from her. She had forewarned him it may take some time to find a new and untraceable way of communicating that she was safe.

“Excellent job, Cassius. To quote Drago: When the head is crushed, the snake will die.” Ares said. “I want twice daily updates on your progress until this threat is fully eliminated.” Ares ordered.

“Yes, My Lord.” Cassius replied, then cut the link.

Ares then faced the men and women who were standing in his office.

“I want every member of Agamemnon's clan rounded up and brought here, immediately.” he ordered.

“Yes, My Lord.” The group leader said. Then they all turned and marched out of his office.

“I also want . . . . . . “ Ares then rattled off three names “. . . . . . present.” he said to his assistant.

“Yes, Sire. Right away.” the assistant replied and hurried away.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * *


What happened was a Spanish Inquisition like hearing for every adult member of Agamemnon's family. It was held in the throne room and in the presence of hundreds of faithful officers. Each family member was escorted in and questioned about their loyalties to Tyr Anasazi as their Viceroy.

The three people Ares requested to be present were one female and two male. They were members of Pride Secreto and naturally all telepathic. So, even if someone lied to save their miserable hide, there were not going to get away with it. Since they were mixed in with the rest of the Nietzscheans present, no one but Ares' officials and he himself knew who they were.

They had also prearranged signals that they would give for yay or nay.

The first one to step up and give account of herself was Agamemnon's First Wife, Hera. Proud and arrogant, she was as she proclaimed her fidelity to Tyr. A sympathetic person would have fallen for her impassioned speech but not Ares. There was too much at stake to just take a person's word for it. When it came to the safety and future of his people Ares didn't trust anyone, not even his own flesh and blood.

“As Ambassador Spock once said: “The needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few.” Ares thought.

He glanced at the crowd and the representatives of Pride Secreto. Their faces all said: “The witch was lying through her teeth.”

“Escort her out, please.” Ares ordered, and watched as four officers led Hera out of the room, to her certain death.

So it went for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Out of the 79 members of Agamemnon's family, he had only told his head wife and his two oldest sons.

The rest had not a clue what their father was up to. All they could recallwas the fact that he was always traveling on account of his business. With those threats eliminated, Ares was now free to move on. First to check out Agamemnon's former business associates, no telling how many would have to “taken out”. Then Ares had to make provisions for the the family to survive without their First Lady and her consort.

“All in a days work. When Tyr returns I would gladly return the helm controls to him. Ruling is definitely not my cup of Raktigino.” Ares sighed.


* * * * * * * * * * * *

“And so, the dominoes are starting to fall.” Janeway said sagely from her multi-verse box seat.

Free Enterprise - Another One Bites The Dust #128

The usually impeccably dressed Nietzschean Queen Mother was dressed down in jeans, trainers, t-shirt, and large hooded sweatshirt, and she had the deep hood over her head. Victoria's Ceremonial Guard surrounded her and escorted her to an undisclosed merchant vessel.

Before the hatch closed, Victoria's stood in the doorway and cast a longing gaze at Pinnacles countryside.

“Lady. We must leave now or will lose the window of opportunity.” the vessel's captain said respectfully.

“So be it, then.” Victoria replied. She was led away by her Ladies In Waiting to her accommodations, as the crew closed the hatch and prepared to lift off.

Minutes later, twenty ships left orbit and immediately went into warp. According to Space Central's records, all of the vessels were merchant ships heading for various destinations and trade routes. So, no one was the wiser that The Queen Mother and her entourage had left the planet.


* * * * * * * * * * *

From quite some distance away, the Q silently watched. Earlier they had discovered Q's hiding place. Most were dismayed to find he had set up his own private box seat, with refreshments close at hand in case he needed a snack.
He also had New Year's type noise makers, foam fingers, confetti and. . . .

“What is this substance?” the Vulcan Q asked, as he held up a half eaten bucket of the stuff.

“It's Crunch and Munch. A popular peanut and popcorn Earth snack food. It's usually eaten during sporting events or during movies.” Janeway Q explained.

Herein was the difference between those Q who were just WERE, and those who were accepted into their ranks after death. Katheryn Janeway had already experienced life, therefore KNEW the intricacies of life whereas the others only KNEW ABOUT life.

“It was a personal childhood favorite of mine.” she added as she sat in one of the cushy stadium seats which resembled an armchair. She waved a hand and the multi-verse focused on one scene. A young Nietzschean male was hiding somewhere on Deep Space Ten and whispering into a hand held communications devise.

“My, what have we here?” Janeway asked no one in particular as they watched.

“ . . . . . . .it took some doing but I finally got some answers. It appears that Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi's ship is missing.” The young man said.

“Missing? How?” a female voice inquired.

“The 10th Fleet was set to go on a charity and rescue mission to Avon Six however, at the last minute the station received a distress call. All of the ships went to render assistance. All have returned and since gone on to Avon Six except The Insurrection.” The young man reported. “They have been searching for his ship and have not found it yet. Of course they've been keeping this hush-hush. . . .” he continued.

“Excellent. This is just the thing Agamemnon needs to hear. Now get your butt off that station and back here ASAP! We've got serious work to do back on Pinnacle.” she ordered.

“Yes, Lady!” the young man said. He immediately closed his devise and hurried to the nearest DS10 public transporter. Ten minutes later, he was back on the undisclosed vessel and it flashed out of sight as it went into warp.


* * * * * * * * * * *

In the multi-verse theater the Q watched as the female captain of the ship had a conference call with Agamemnon. They watched as he heard the news about his youngest brother being missing without batting an eyelash.

“You'd think he would show some kind of distress.” one female Q stated.
“After all, it is his brother.” a male Q stated.

“. . . . . And the Nietzschean Viceroy.” still another female stated.

“There lies the problem. Agamemnon wants his brother to be either permanently missing or dead, so he can take the throne, which he believes is rightfully his.” Janeway stated.

“Then we will release Tyr and let him return to Pinnacle. . . .” yet another Q piped up.

“No, even though that seems like the most expedient thing to do, we cannot do it. We must consider every alternate timeline.” Janeway explained. “Currently there are two. If we set Tyr free and he returns, Agamemnon will not reveal his rebellion until three years from now. By then his so called fledgling movement will have become a cult following. There will be a horrendous civil war and millions of lives will be lost, including Tyr, Victoria, and most of Pride Kodiak. The other option is to allow The Insurrection stay right where she is and allow the events to play themselves out.”

“What about that vessel?” the Vulcan Q inquired as he gazed the so-called merchant vessel that streaked along at warp ten. This fact had given the Vulcan Q reason to wonder. After all, no mere merchant vessel had the capability to travel at such speeds. And if the vessel itself was suspect, so were those on board her.

“That ship? Oh, it's about to suffer a very nasty accident.” Janeway replied, as the ship exploded.

“As an old Earth song succinctly said: Another One Bites The Dust.” she stated.





* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


On Pinnacle, Agamemnon was having a private meeting with five men who he considered to be his most trusted lieutenants. These five men were not part of his family, nor members of Pride Kodiak. They were outsiders who he had gathered together as comrades in his struggle to return the throne to the rightful heir. Himself.

They were currently dinning in an exclusive restaurant named River City. They had reserved a private room, which included their table being waited upon by a private waiters. Food served, the wait staff retreated leaving them to eat in peace.

The purpose of said meeting was to discuss the future of the Nietzschean Ruling Class. Agamemnon opened the meeting by telling them the news he had just received from a spy he'd sent to Deep Space Ten by way of a troop carrier. Which by the way was disguised as a merchant vessel. The so-called merchants on board were renegade members of the Nietzschean military. . . . . . .

Agamemnon was starving and had nearly finished his meal before noticing that his compatriots had barely touched theirs.

“Agamemnon. Look at me.” the leader named Casius stated. Agamemnon did.

“There are not many things that can poison a Nietzschean, but there is a secret formula that only the Enforcers use.” he continued. Agamemnon's eyes widened as the word “Enforcers“ hit him like a brick upside the head.

“You should be feeling strange right about now, as your autonomic systems start to shut down one by one. . . . . .”

“A genetically modified Neuro-toxin. . . . . .” Agamemnon thought helplessly to himself.   He would'e said the words, but his mouth no longer worked. . . . . . . .

“ . . . . . . . . . You should have known that we could not allow you to execute what you've planned. Barbarossa had his suspicions about you and that is the reason you were not chosen to inherit the crown and throne. This is also the very reason Barbarossa set 'the hounds' upon your heels. Victoria is safely in exile, and every one of your so-called compatriots are being hunted down and dealt with as we speak. Your plan has failed, Agamemnon.” Casious stated.

With that, Agamemnon breathed his last and died.

Free Enterprise - The Winds of Discord #127

Fleet Admiral HaxHis and Counselor Khan were having a secure three-way video conference with Captain Sherra, First Officer Rommie ( who standing in for Captain Hunt who was still “indisposed”), and Victoria Anasazi.

“According to my timetable we have a little more than six weeks before the rescue fleet completes it's mission on Avon Six and returns.” The Katay Fleet Admiral began.

“Six weeks, three days, nineteen hours to be exact. When The Fleet returns, people would have to be blind as bats not to notice The Insurrection is not with them.” Khan added.



“And wonder what the heck?” Sherra asked.

“That is when rumors will fly and the proverbial kimshee will hit the fan.” Rommie added. HaxHis could clearly see a diplomatic firestorm in the making.

“Victoria, do you have a contingency plan in place in case. . .in case. . . . .?” HaxHis started but hesitated to finish.

“I am prepared to go into exile.” Victoria replied.

“Exile! Why exile?” Rommie asked, voicing the question everyone else thought.

“My son Agamemnon was extremely displeased, to say the least, with Barbarossa's decision to place Tyr on the throne instead of him. Nietzschean law dictates that the crown must be passed down from The Viceroy to the First Born son, unless The Viceroy suspects the First Born has ulterior motives. Barbarossa may have detected something amiss for I've received recent news from one of my spies that he has been secretly fomenting.” Victoria replied.

“Oh my Divine! You mean your own son. . . . . would . . . . . assassinate you?" Hashish exclaimed. In response, Sherra shook her dreadlocked head.

“It is indeed a sad day when one of your own pups that you've suckled at your breast turns on you.” she thought.

“It is not the first nor the last time this has happened. To quote Drago: 'Thine own worst enemy are the members of thine own household.' This is the Nietzschean way, Sherra. Only the strongest survive.” Victoria replied. “Since I am only ruling in Tyr's stead, if Tyr is missing or deceased, I will be a tempting target for Agamemnon.” Victoria said. “I have a standing army of millions at my command, however, I do not wish to risk civil war over this.” she continued.

“But if you are in exile, who would rule in your stead? It obviously cannot be Agamemnon because that's exactly the very thing he wants.” Rommie stated.

“Most likely he would never abrogate the throne once he's gotten it in his clutches.” Sherra responded.

“That is why I am turning over ruling power over to my second son Ares. He is completely loyal to me and will stop at nothing wipe out any opposition.” Victoria replied.

“Divine have mercy! If this doesn't work, this could the making of a civil war!” HaxHis exclaimed.

“Indeed my friends. Let us pray that there will not be one. Far too much innocent blood has been shed already.” Victoria replied, thinking of the recent dustup with Osiris and his ilk.

“Do you need any assistance, Victoria?” HaxHis asked diplomatically.

“No thank you, Haxhis. In fact we are all packed and are leaving within the hour.” Victoria replied.

Meaning her entire household including Ladies in Waiting, Ceremonial Guard, cooks, assistants and other staff, were leaving at oh-dark-hundred. Nietzscheans loved making early morning assaults and departures.

“My Divine! So soon?” HaxHis exclaimed.

“I must, HasHistra.” Victoria replied calmly.

“Any particular location?” Haxhis asked.

“Definitely not here on Pinnacle. I cannot tell you where, but I will let you know once I've arrived safely.” Victoria replied.

“And what of Agamemnon?” Khan asked.

“I left orders for Ares to set a counter plan in motion. But, I also made him promise not to do anything until I'm off planet.” Victoria replied. Meaning, she'd left orders to “take Agamemnon and his fellow malcontents out”. She just didn't want to be anywhere around when it happened.

A young female Nietzschean came into range of the visual pickup and whispered into Victoria's ear. The Nietzschean Queen Mother nodded and smiled sadly. The young lady hurried away.

“Everything is ready and they are waiting for me. Thank you for everything, HaxHista, Sherra, Khan, Rommie. Please find my son.” Victoria said.

“We will do our best.” HaxHis replied.

“May the Divine's blessings and protection be upon you, Victoria.” Khan said.

“Thank you, and same to you Khan, everyone. Thank you for remaining discrete and understanding. I will be in touch as soon as possible.” Victoria replied.

The screen went dark and was replaced by the Nietzschean governmental symbol. HaxHis privately wondered if she would ever see her dear Neitzschean friend again.

“Gentle Beings, I would appreciate it if this information stays within the confines of only us five. I realize Rommie will have to apprise Captain Hunt later.” HaxHis said.

“Yes Ma'am.” They all replied.

“Now lets do what the lady asked us to do, find Tyr.” HaxHis said as she stood.