Free Enterprise - A Family Feast - Sorta #125

Free Enterprise  -  A Family Feast – Sorta - #125


Tyr woke up and dived into pure pandemonium. All of his wives were multi-tasking, doing three things at a time while trying to get ready themselves.

Both Alexander and Lysander were hungry and loudly demanded to eat right now, not later when the meal was finally cooked and served. So Hoy Li and Li Hoy took them aside and gave them each a light fruit snack to keep them quiet.

Tyr found himself in competition for kitchen counter space as he whipped up a large tray of baked ziti and a salad to accompany it. Amanda had taught Desi how to make curry chicken, and she was cooking up a batch along with some rice and peas, while Tamara cooked up Huminza (a Vulcan wild rice with vegetables dish). Not to be outmatched by Fatou who was preparing a pot of Quil. A spicy and hearty Katay fish stew. Once everything was in the oven or on the stove simmering away, wives scattered to get cleaned up and dressed for the event. Tyr mosied back to his quarters to do likewise.

By the time he returned their first guests were there. Melissa Culpepper was there with her team. The team consisted of one man and one woman, both of Vulcan decent and married to each other. T'Kell was “hair”, make up and wardrobe specialist and she took care of Melissa's on the camera appearance and administrative duties. Skoll was the technical guy who handled the camera and sound aspect, and was also the body guard. Actually both were. Though T'Fara was female, she was more than capable of opening a can of Beat Down if needed to.

It seemed as soon as Melissa sat down on the sofa, Alexander climbed up on her lap. Tamara and Xena tried to shoo him off, but he stubbornly clung to the reporter. Truth be told, Melissa was charmed by this miniature version of Tyr, though she couldn't say the same for his father.

“The children should not suffer because of their father's sins.” Melissa muttered.

“Oui!” Fatou thought to herself.


* * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, back on Deep Space 10 , in her office, Admiral Haxhis was receiving reports from all over.

A half an hour ago she had just made a call to Tyr's mother Victoria Anasazi and apprized her of the situation. To wit: her son's ship, crew, family, and he was missing. This of course included her grandchildren Alexander and Lysander.

HaxHis had expected the woman to go nutter. To scream, cry, rage, howl at the moon, anything. But, The Queen Mother was as measured and composed as could be. She'd even offered the assistance of ships and crews to augment the search. But, Haxhis had turned it down.

“We don't really know what has happened yet and if you send ships the word will spread like wildfire that the Nietzscheans brand new Viceroy is missing.” HaxHis replied.

“You are right.” Victoria said. “Perhaps I should send a couple of merchant ships with disguised military crews to assist instead.” she suggested.

“No, that would not do either. This station is being monitored by spies with hostile intentions and the slightest action out of whack will spark an incident. Plus, the Dolgarians have volunteered to help. Haxhis said. “If anyone can find that ship, they can. They are excellent trackers.” she continued.

“And what of this Q person you spoke of? I thought he was imprisoned by the Continuum due to him introducing the Borg to our system which initiated The Borg War.” Victoria said. That war had cost BILLIONS of innocent lives and destroyed hundreds of planets.

“I thought so too. Where ever he was, he got out of jail so to speak and is back up to his old tricks. I pray to the Divine The Continuum finds him, puts a stop to his nonsense. There's no telling what that creature has in store for Tyr, his crew and his family.” HaxHis replied.

“I have an apt punishment for Q's crime. Remove his immortality and leave him in my charge for a year.” Victoria suggested. At it's mere mention, the fine hairs stood on Haxhis neck. She couldn't imagine what the Nietzscheans Queen Mother would do to Q while he was in her care.

“May it never come to that.” Haxhis thought. For Nietzschean women tended to be three times as treacherous as their male counterparts.

“I'm confident The Continuum will find him before any serious damage is done.” Haxhis replied firmlly.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” Victoria asked.

“Because of their newest addition and leader. She didn't exactly see eye to eye with Q when she was alive, and now that she is with the Q. . . . .” Haxhis started.

“And whom might that be?” Victoria asked.

“Admiral Kathryn Janeway.” Haxhis replied.

“If all I've heard about her is true, Q is definitely in big trouble.” Victoria said after a stunned moment of silence.

“Yes, indeed he is.” HaxHis replied.


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

Meanwhile back on The Insurrection, Tyr's Pride took time out from their present day problems and circumstances to have a traditional Nietzschean family feast.

Traditionally, family members (if old enough) prepared dishes and guests/friends brought their empty stomachs and some form of entertainment.

After the food had been eaten and desserts consumed, Hoy Li and Li Hoy assisted with clean up, while Tamara and Xena put the little ones to sleep. This was although Alexander was perfectly happy to doze in Melissa's lap.

Since Alexander was the more outgoing of the two boys, he took on the task of doing reconnaissance, and if he approved, then Lysander came along.

For the rest of the evening the group fell into easy conversation. Melissa even brought up a charity she had pioneered as a result of her condition.

Lids For Life, was where thousands of women and men donated, hand knit, crocheted or weaved hats and head coverings for the follicular challenged. To prove her point she reached into her shoulder bag and brought a ball of colorful yarn with a crochet needle stuck into it. Attached to said needle was the beginnings of her next project.

“Wow! I haven't seen anyone do that in years.” Tamara said. “My foster Mom not only taught me how to knit, crochet and sew but also beading, because she had cousins who were full blooded Navaho and Shoshoni Indians. I'd like to get back into it for the cause, but I'm afraid, I might be too rusty though.” she continued.

“You see, this not only teaches women to be charitable to others, but it also teaches what is believed to be one of the many dying arts in Humanoid culture. Handcrafting. The sad thing about progress is the easier it is to replicate things, people forget the skills and arts one needed to make the items in the first place.” Melissa said. “Oh and don't worry about your skills being rusty. I always carry extra yarn and needles and I also give impromptu lessons if need be.”

The evening ended with Tamara making an appointment to see Melissa in order to have a refresher course in crocheting. Then Melissa Culpepper and her “people” were escorted back to their quarters by Security. Tyr was not letting her off the hook yet. Even though she had befriended his sons. . . . . . . .


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


“That one admires you.” T'Kell said, as Melissa entered their quarters. It was a much smaller version of the Anasazi Family Quad. Melissa pulled up short because she knew exactly “who” T'Kell was talking about. Both of her staff had been trained in spotting stalkers and undesirable hangers on and the like, just in case. They were both dead on the mark when they pointed out someone to her. But, Melissa was no slouch either. After ten years in the field she too recognized the weirdos and dangerous types.

Yes, she had noticed the leader of her supposed Security Team since yesterday when Tyr has sent them to fetch her to the bridge. He was, an intense young man (approximately 10 to 12 years her junior), perhaps 5'8”, 190 pds, a fit as all get out Nietzschean, with dark brown hair and eyes and a latte complexion.

The man's stare was a tad too intense. However, when he noticed that The Vulcans had taken notice of him (like a pair of alert Dobermans), he quickly averted his attention and only stole an occasional meaningful glance at her. One of those so-called glances was enough.

“It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning.” Melissa thought to herself.

“I know what you're thinking T'Kell. But, he's young enough to be my son.” Melissa replied.

“That may be so, but obviously he was mature enough to apply for and be accepted by Star Fleet.” T'Kell replied. In other words, if he was old enough to put his life on the line and become a living and breathing target for Star Fleet Security, he was old enough to take an interest in Melissa Culpepper.

“Ah, T'Kell, in case you haven't noticed, Nietzscheans are really into this body perfection thing. They tend not to mate up with Humans who have obvious design flaws like me.” Melissa said. Referring to her obviously bald pate.

“This is a prime example of why you Humans are so illogical. The young man merely wishes to speak to you, however you already foresee yourself as a great grand parent.” T'Kell replied. It sounded far fetched, but once again T'Kell was right on point.

“Chalk that up to an over active imagination.” Melissa said.

“It is more like undisciplined thinking. You must remember to handle one task at a time. Absolutely nothing will be accomplished if you have numerous things on your mind at once.” T'Kell admonished. “First, arrange to speak to the young man, then see where that leads.” she continued.

“What is his name by the way?” Melissa asked, for she knew the woman had the scoop on all of his details.

“Dragon.” was T'Kell's reply.

“Dragon? What kind of name is that? I thought Nietzscheans only named their children after famous rulers and conquerors. Is that his given name or surname?” Melissa asked as she frowned.

“Dragon is his given name.” T'Kell replied. “Now you have a valid topic to discuss.” she continued as she headed into her shared quarters with her husband Skoll.

“Melissa and Dragon? Dragon and Melissa?” the reporter thought. “Naaaaaaah!” she scoffed out loud as she stepped through the doors to her quarters.


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

Meanwhile, the man of the hour, Q was practically asleep at the switch.

“OMG! This is so BORING! I've got to do something to kick things up a notch!” Q exclaimed. “ Tomorrow morning when Mr. Anasazi wakes up, he'll have a nice unpleasant surprise.” he promised, as he got up from his easy chair and stormed off.


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


Meanwhile Fatou was grooming herself for the night. She paused mid-lick as she sensed Q afoot.

“Oh-oh!.” Fatou thought.


* * * * * * * * * * *

Rear Admiral Tyr Anasazi was awakened from his sound slumber by the worse stomach cramps he ever had in his life. In fact, he'd never had stomach cramps!

For approximately two minutes he could only curl up in fetal position and writhe in complete agony. However, at the last second he dashed out of bed and scorched to the head. He made it just in time.

As he exited he ran right into Tamara who had stationed herself directly in front of the door. Tyr had forgotten his first wife was telepathically linked to him and therefore felt every ache and pain he felt.

“I would not go in there if I were you.” he said seriously.

“Why? Did you blow it up?” Tamara asked in equal seriousness. “Blow it up” were code words her Foster Mom would use to describe when one left the bathroom stinky and unihabitable. . . . . . . .

Tyr was about to reply when another series of cramps tore through him. He swiftly retreated to whence he had come.

“I called Kori.” Tamara said, as Tyr returned. “Montazuma's Revenge is nothing to play with, Tyr.” she continued with hands on hips as she eyed her stubborn Nietzschean spouse.

“If I recall correctly, that particular malady was due to impure drinking water.” Tyr sighed.

“Either you get dressed and come with me to Sickbay right now, or I will summon Security to drag you there.” Tamara threatened.

“Uh, you're gonna have to wait one. . . . .” Tyr said as he dashed back into the head.

“Oui Vay!” Tamara said as she threw up her hands and shook her head.

“It's just like dealing with Alexander and Lysander, only they are a lot smaller.” she thought.


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


From the rims of the Multi Verse, Q was besides himself with glee. He was literally rolling on the ground and laughing.

“This gives new meaning to the words POOP DECK!” Q said, as sat up and tossed handfuls of confetti into the air.


* * * * * * * * * * *

“Ugh! Poor Tyr!” Fatou thought as she headed for Sickbay.


* * * * * * * * * * *


“Well? What is your verdict?” Tyr rumbled at Kori. She'd just finished his full spectral exam.

“Verdicts are for juries. Doctors give diagnosis.” Kori replied patiently. Tamara stared at the two. If she didn't know better it looked as if they enjoyed baiting one other.

“Out with it woman!” Tyr said.

“As a Human being there are select conditions or diseases inherent to certain races. Some are more prone to heart attacks and strokes than others. Some are more prone to high blood pressure and diabetes . . .” she started.

“What does that have to do with me?” Tyr interrupted.

“I don't like to bring up race but you are considered to be of African American extraction. About 85% of African Americans are Lactose Intolerant. This just means the body lacks a specific enzyme which helps to break down the sugar content in milk and dairy products. That's why some get stomach cramps and the trots.” Kori continued.

“You mean I can no longer consume cheese or drink milk? I've always. . . . .” Tyr started. "I love cheese. . . . . ."

“Tyr, you were not always fully Human like you are now. Now you are susceptible to kinds of things that a normal Nietzschean body would just throw off.” Kori explained.

“You have two choices, I have an enzyme supplement you can take before you eat any dairy products. It will help your body break down the sugar content. Or you can give up all dairy products until after this thing with Q ends. It's up to you Tyr.” Kori said. Tyr opted for the pills.

“Also, try to get some water into your system. The trots have a tendency to cause dehydration, and you don't need that either.” Kori said. “Remember, we are here to help you so that you don't have to go it alone.” she continued.