NOTE TO READERS: I must apologize for such a short chapter. This is a set up chapter for more to come.
~~Thank You~~ ::curtsies and walks away::
Free Enterprise - Stress Test - Chapter 28
A habitual early bird Tyr was up at an un-Godly hour, checked Tamarra as she slept, soundly and silently crept out. He went to the gym, worked out, and cleaned himself up. He then went up to the bridge to check on things briefly, then went down to hydroponics to stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables for the days meals for TWO.
On his way back he met another habitual early riser, Kori.
“What are you doing out?” she demanded. “You're supposed to be with Tamarra. She needs you to make sure that she eats properly, stays hydrated, and gets enough sleep. Vulcans tend to forget those things during the Plak Tow!” Kori chided.
“Plak Tow?” Tyr asked.
“Yes, translated from Vulcan it means blood fever. Vulcans become so preoccupied with . . . . . . that they become insomniacs and fast for weeks until they return to normal. And you must take care of yourself too. Don't think that just because you have superior Nietzschean strength it cannot be stretched past it's limits by your Matriarch.“ Kori continued, as she noted that Tyr proudly wore the Double Helix arm band on his right bicep.
“Why is this information NOT available in the computer data banks? Not in the Insurrection's, not in Starfleet's, not even on Vulcan?” Tyr asked. The computer savvy Nietzschean made repeated assaults on all three sources to no avail.
“Call it one the universe's most carefully guarded secrets, Captain. After all of these years, Vulcans still refuse to admit that every seven years their carefully constructed veneer of logic is stripped away, and they become just like their barbaric cousins, the Romulans. Who are actually the same race but. . . . . we won't go into that.” Kori replied.
“What profit is there in keeping such a serious condition secret?” Tyr asked.
“I don't know. There is no telling how many have died or suffered irreparable damage due to ignorance of the true facts. All for the sake of so-called Vulcan pride. Thank Khaless Tamarra has you to care for her. But, I stress again, you must take care of yourself too. It seems the lot of the care-giver is to always neglect himself or herself for the sake of the care-receiver. If you wear yourself out, Tyr, both you and Tamarra wind up in Sickbay.” Kori replied.
She didn't have to add that the last thing she wanted in her Sickbay was the Captain AND the Commander. But, she also hated when people ignored her warnings and wound up flat on their backs on one of her bio-beds as a result.
“I will make note of it, Doctor.” Tyr replied, as he turned and walked away.
“Don't forget to call Sickbay with twice daily updates. If I don't hear from you, I will be pounding on your door. I can relieve you of duty if need be, Captain.” Kori called, after Tyr's retreating back.
"Whoever coined the regulation which dictates a Starship's Chief Medical Officer can overrule the Captain, and relieve him or her of duty, needs to be taken out and shot. With what, I don't yet know." Tyr thought, as he sighed.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Joined - Chapter 27
Free Enterprise - Joined - Chapter 27
In Tyr's quarters, Tamarra sat in semi-lotus position on his sofa and watched as he divested himself of his weaponry one by one. First the bandolier, a huge wicked looking knife, a Nietzschean Gauss Gun, and something which resembled a retractable fighting stave used in martial arts. He removed his boots then sat next to her. She unconsciously moved away from him, just a bit. He noticed, of course. But did not press.
“Tamarra, how are we supposed to . . . . . . if I cannot touch you?” Tyr asked.
“I don't know.” she replied in a small voice. To Tyr, she sounded like a child.
“Tamarra, what happened to make you like this?” Tyr asked, quietly. Her response was a trail of tears which ran down her cheeks and met at her chin.
“I cannot tell you, because it is much too painful.” she replied as she wiped her face with her top's sleeve. “However, if you really must know, I can show you.” she continued.
“Show me?” Tyr asked, as he wondered if this had anything to do with her people's telepathic abilities.
“There is this thing we do where we link minds. I will only do it if you permit me to do so.” Tamara stated, as she gazed into Tyr's brown eyes with her green ones.
“I do.” he replied. Tamarra carefully positioned herself, reached out with her right hand to the telepathic contact points on the right side of Tyr's face, closed her eyes and started the ancient Vulcan Mantra.
“My mind to your mind. . . . . . . .”
Perhaps ten minutes later, Tyr opened his eyes to Tamara smiling at him. Not just her typical shy grin but a beatific toothy smile!
**Hello! Is anyone in there?** he heard clearly in his mind. He blinked and pouted at her. It was an expression which Tamarra thought was very sexy on him. He heard that too. Then all at once he had a thousand questions.
In his mind he saw Tamara hold up her hand like an Old Earth traffic cop. Now was not the time for questions. There was a serious issue to address.
“I apologize for what I must reveal to you. It will not be pleasant.” she said.
“Then let us get it over with.” Tyr said. Again Tamarra connected with the telepathic contact points and concentrated. In Tyr's mind he perceived her mental barricades drop like an onion being peeled until it reached the core. Then WHAM! He was hit with the full force of the thing.
He was literally in Tamarra's body and watched as she made “arrangements” for her 2nd Ponn Farr. Supposedly she had done it through a reputable firm based on Vulcan which specialized in such things.
However, when she arrived at the appointed meeting place and time, she was abducted by Orion Pirates and taken to an undisclosed location. From there she was subjected to multiple horrors. Once she returned to normal, she was warned never to reveal her experience to anyone, least those closest to her be killed.
She was then bound, blindfolded and abandoned on a Deity forgotten planet without means of travel, money, or forms of identification. All of which had been previously stolen from her. She took up odd jobs to earn her travel fare back to Vulcan. . . . . . .
The scene ended at that point because The Uber Alpha Nietzschean suffered a good old fashioned Blue Screen Crash. Anything that was too painful, traumatic or overwhelming to the Humaniod mind and it would simply shut down for it's own protection. Such was the case with Tyr as he fell flat on his butt and out like a light.
Tyr snorted and awoke five minutes later and scowled at Tamara. He'd clearly seen and memorized the face of the monster who'd done this to her. The Nietzschean vowed he would not rest until the atrocity was avenged.
“Tamarra. It is seven years later and you still have not informed the authorities?” Tyr asked, incredulously.
“What could they had done? Gall is the head of the Orion Syndicate, and has his green fingers in many pies. He threatened to kill off my adopted family if I told the authorities. He knew all about how my parents were assassinated, and I strongly believe his father had something to do with it before he died and left the Syndicate to his son. How do you . . . . . . . what do you to a person like that?” Tamarra asked miserably.
“You simply annihilate them.” Tyr said.
“OMG! Surely you do not intend to. . . .” Tamarra gasped.
“Tamarra, has anyone ever told you that they loved you?” Tyr asked, totally distracting her. He was now sitting cross legged, on the deck, in front of her and gazing directly into her eyes.
“No.” was her answer.
“Why not?” Tyr asked.
“I mean who would want me? Look at me! I'm a mess!” she replied, and stifled a sob.
“Tamara, no one has ever touched you like this?” Tyr asked, as he reached out with his right thumb and gently drew it along the top of her right hand. His whole being focused on her reaction. The rising of her blood pressure, increased respiration, the dilation of her pupils. She stared at him with wide and frightened eyes.
“Divine give me patience. This is going to be like taming a wild horse.” Tyr thought.
Harkening back to a personal experience he'd had during an extended teaching leave on Earth three years ago. He'd tamed a horse the American Indian Native Way, by selecting and separating it from it's herd, and living with it, in the wild, to gain it's trust. Eventually the stallion he'd named Hannibal, allowed Tyr to ride him. But, it took time and extreme patience. Tamarra too, needed and deserved the same.
“Tamara, I promise two things. I will be very gentle and I will not hurt you.” Tyr said, holding her gaze.
“You are injured.” she said having noticed the various cuts and bruises on his face and shoulders.
“They will heal, Tamara.” he replied as he stood. He reached out with his right hand to her in a courtly gesture. “Shall we dance?” he continued.
“I don't know how to. . . . . . . . .” Tamarra replied. Stumbling and bumbling over her words.
“Then I will teach you.” Tyr replied.
“Teach me . . . . But, I have two left feet.” she started, then blushed bright green upon suddenly realizing what Tyr was referring to.
“Okay.” she said as she stood, and put her trembling hand into his.
In Tyr's quarters, Tamarra sat in semi-lotus position on his sofa and watched as he divested himself of his weaponry one by one. First the bandolier, a huge wicked looking knife, a Nietzschean Gauss Gun, and something which resembled a retractable fighting stave used in martial arts. He removed his boots then sat next to her. She unconsciously moved away from him, just a bit. He noticed, of course. But did not press.
“Tamarra, how are we supposed to . . . . . . if I cannot touch you?” Tyr asked.
“I don't know.” she replied in a small voice. To Tyr, she sounded like a child.
“Tamarra, what happened to make you like this?” Tyr asked, quietly. Her response was a trail of tears which ran down her cheeks and met at her chin.
“I cannot tell you, because it is much too painful.” she replied as she wiped her face with her top's sleeve. “However, if you really must know, I can show you.” she continued.
“Show me?” Tyr asked, as he wondered if this had anything to do with her people's telepathic abilities.
“There is this thing we do where we link minds. I will only do it if you permit me to do so.” Tamara stated, as she gazed into Tyr's brown eyes with her green ones.
“I do.” he replied. Tamarra carefully positioned herself, reached out with her right hand to the telepathic contact points on the right side of Tyr's face, closed her eyes and started the ancient Vulcan Mantra.
“My mind to your mind. . . . . . . .”
Perhaps ten minutes later, Tyr opened his eyes to Tamara smiling at him. Not just her typical shy grin but a beatific toothy smile!
**Hello! Is anyone in there?** he heard clearly in his mind. He blinked and pouted at her. It was an expression which Tamarra thought was very sexy on him. He heard that too. Then all at once he had a thousand questions.
In his mind he saw Tamara hold up her hand like an Old Earth traffic cop. Now was not the time for questions. There was a serious issue to address.
“I apologize for what I must reveal to you. It will not be pleasant.” she said.
“Then let us get it over with.” Tyr said. Again Tamarra connected with the telepathic contact points and concentrated. In Tyr's mind he perceived her mental barricades drop like an onion being peeled until it reached the core. Then WHAM! He was hit with the full force of the thing.
He was literally in Tamarra's body and watched as she made “arrangements” for her 2nd Ponn Farr. Supposedly she had done it through a reputable firm based on Vulcan which specialized in such things.
However, when she arrived at the appointed meeting place and time, she was abducted by Orion Pirates and taken to an undisclosed location. From there she was subjected to multiple horrors. Once she returned to normal, she was warned never to reveal her experience to anyone, least those closest to her be killed.
She was then bound, blindfolded and abandoned on a Deity forgotten planet without means of travel, money, or forms of identification. All of which had been previously stolen from her. She took up odd jobs to earn her travel fare back to Vulcan. . . . . . .
The scene ended at that point because The Uber Alpha Nietzschean suffered a good old fashioned Blue Screen Crash. Anything that was too painful, traumatic or overwhelming to the Humaniod mind and it would simply shut down for it's own protection. Such was the case with Tyr as he fell flat on his butt and out like a light.
Tyr snorted and awoke five minutes later and scowled at Tamara. He'd clearly seen and memorized the face of the monster who'd done this to her. The Nietzschean vowed he would not rest until the atrocity was avenged.
“Tamarra. It is seven years later and you still have not informed the authorities?” Tyr asked, incredulously.
“What could they had done? Gall is the head of the Orion Syndicate, and has his green fingers in many pies. He threatened to kill off my adopted family if I told the authorities. He knew all about how my parents were assassinated, and I strongly believe his father had something to do with it before he died and left the Syndicate to his son. How do you . . . . . . . what do you to a person like that?” Tamarra asked miserably.
“You simply annihilate them.” Tyr said.
“OMG! Surely you do not intend to. . . .” Tamarra gasped.
“Tamarra, has anyone ever told you that they loved you?” Tyr asked, totally distracting her. He was now sitting cross legged, on the deck, in front of her and gazing directly into her eyes.
“No.” was her answer.
“Why not?” Tyr asked.
“I mean who would want me? Look at me! I'm a mess!” she replied, and stifled a sob.
“Tamara, no one has ever touched you like this?” Tyr asked, as he reached out with his right thumb and gently drew it along the top of her right hand. His whole being focused on her reaction. The rising of her blood pressure, increased respiration, the dilation of her pupils. She stared at him with wide and frightened eyes.
“Divine give me patience. This is going to be like taming a wild horse.” Tyr thought.
Harkening back to a personal experience he'd had during an extended teaching leave on Earth three years ago. He'd tamed a horse the American Indian Native Way, by selecting and separating it from it's herd, and living with it, in the wild, to gain it's trust. Eventually the stallion he'd named Hannibal, allowed Tyr to ride him. But, it took time and extreme patience. Tamarra too, needed and deserved the same.
“Tamara, I promise two things. I will be very gentle and I will not hurt you.” Tyr said, holding her gaze.
“You are injured.” she said having noticed the various cuts and bruises on his face and shoulders.
“They will heal, Tamara.” he replied as he stood. He reached out with his right hand to her in a courtly gesture. “Shall we dance?” he continued.
“I don't know how to. . . . . . . . .” Tamarra replied. Stumbling and bumbling over her words.
“Then I will teach you.” Tyr replied.
“Teach me . . . . But, I have two left feet.” she started, then blushed bright green upon suddenly realizing what Tyr was referring to.
“Okay.” she said as she stood, and put her trembling hand into his.
A Bridge Over Troubled Water - Chapter 26
HEADS UP READERS: I've done it again! What Have I done? I made up a Starfleet Uniform Code. I will be happy to change it if anyone will be so kind to PM me the "correct and cannon" one. ~Thanks~ :+}!
* * * * * * * * * *
Free Enterprise - A Bridge Over Troubled Water - Chapter 26
Approximately two days later, Dr. Kori's prediction came true. Tamara simply refused to show up for bridge duty. No amount of hailing her quarters would get a response.
“Internal scans reveal the Commander is in her quarters and is in a highly agitated state.” Ensign Debora Stone reported to Tyr who was closeted in the Ready Room with Khan.
“Thank You, Ensign. Please have Lt. Commander Gilgamesh report to my Ready Room, ASAP.” Tyr ordered.
“Aye, sir.” Stone replied, and immediately relayed his order.
“Khan, I will be unavailable . . . . . I don't know how long. . . . .” Tyr started.
“I understand, my brother. May the Divine be with you.” Khan said.
A second later, Tyr's First Cousin Lt. Commander Gilgamesh ( who's the splitting image of Tyr, except he was bald, and was two shades darker ) stepped in and was given brief and concise orders.
As, Gilgamesh exited the Ready Room and took the central seat on the bridge, Tyr got into the lift and headed down to his quarters to make preparations.
* * * * * * * *
Tyr was ready to make his assault. He was dressed for bear as he strode down the corridor to Tamara's quarters. He was well aware that he was going to meet resistance, he just didn't expect so much.
As Kodiak Pride's Uber Alpha male, he expected to be challenged by other males of his Kodiak Pride who were also interested in Tamara. He just didn't anticipate having them challenge him all at once.
The tactic was not unheard of in the annuls of Nietzschean history. When a particularly powerful Alpha held sway, the other males would conspire with each other to kill two birds with one stone. Take down the Alpha and then present themselves to their object of desire.
It usually wound up in horrible failure. It amounted to multiple butts being kicked, and serious injuries. What was left, the Lady was not interested in, for she only had eyes for the Alpha.
All of this went through Tyr's mind and he walked up on the group of men assembled outside of Tamarra's quarters. Several were at work, attempting to pry the doors open, while the others stood guard.
Tyr glowered, growled, and roared a universal challenge at the group of 19 men. All valuable members of his crew, and all members of his Kodiak Pride. They all answered and attacked as one.
* * * * * *
Some time later, a bruised, lacerated and battered Tyr, emerged victorious. He totally ignored the door to Tamara's quarters and purposely strode further down the corridor to the nearest Jefferies tube. From there he accessed Conduit A45, and began to crawl along it's length.
* * * * * * *
Tamarra was hiding out in her quarters. Actually hiding out, in a corner of her bedroom with a fully charged phaser, set to kill.
She'd heard the noise at her door and knew it was none other than her self-elected “prospects” attempting to gain access. But, even with the heavy duty torches they'd brought it would take them a day or two to get in.
“By then, I will either go stark raving mad, or be dead.” Tamarra thought cryptically as another “flash” hit her. She was seriously considering putting the phaser to her head and ending it all.
So deep was Tamarra's concentration that she nearly did not hear the tiny sounds above her. She immediately stopped her mental rant, looked up and pointed her phaser up at the exact spot. A ceiling panel crashed to the deck and none other than Captain Tyr Anasazi rapelled down behind it.
However, Tyr was not dressed in uniform. He was kitted out full Nietzschean attire: Chain mail singlet, leather pants, matching boots, bandolier festooned with weaponry, and dreadlocks loosed. Smelling of sweat, blood . . . . . pure man.
Totally headless of the fact that Tamarra was holding a phaser on him, Tyr reached up, expertly yanked the rappel rope down, coiled it neatly and clipped it to his belt.
“Oh . . . . . . .My . . . . . Gawd!” Tamarra thought, as the mere sight and sent of him started her Vulcan blood howling.
“What are you doing here, Captain?” she managed to whisper evenly as she kept the phaser trained on Tyr.
“I believe you know, Tamarra.” was his gentle response.
“I cannot allow you to do that, Sir.” she croaked, her mouth suddenly gone dry.
“It appears that you don't have much of a choice.” Tyr replied. “What the hell happened here?” he continued, as he frowned and looked around her bedroom. The place was in a complete shambles, and every stick of furniture had been smashed.
“I had a wee fit of pique.” she replied, and shrugged, still holding the phaser on Tyr.
“You call the wanton destruction of Starfleet property a wee fit of pique?” he asked.
“I trust you will not put me on report, Sir.” she replied.
“No, I will not, however . . . . . . “ he started. Then WHAP! In a lighting quick strike, he'd knocked the phaser out of her hand and it flew clear across the room. “. . . . I do take exception to an armed phaser being pointed at me.” Tyr continued.
“I. . . .I . . . .” was all Tamarra could say.
“Tamarra. I don't want you to die.” Tyr said as he edged closer to her. Tamarra's green eyes widened as she backed away from him, backing right into a bulkhead. She mentally cursed the bulkhead in three languages.
“Starfleet Uniform Code 115, Paragragh B subsection 2. Officers are not allowed to fraternize . . . . . . .” she started. The Nietzschean was simply too close. She was on total sensory overload.
“It is not considered fraternization if two officers love one another.” Tyr said. Tamarra gazed into the depths of the Nietzschean's eyes which she only now realized were light brown, and saw the unvarnished truth. Tyr was there because he truly loved her.
“I do not wish to die either.” Tamarra said.
“You do realize that due to your so-called 'fit of pique' you've unwittingly rendered your quarters uninhabitable.” Tyr stated. Both Nietzschean and Vulcan stared into each others eyes. The unspoken invitation hung plainly in the air.
“Okay, let me get a few things.” she said, as she picked her way through the rubble which used to be her quarters.
* * * * * * * * * *
Free Enterprise - A Bridge Over Troubled Water - Chapter 26
Approximately two days later, Dr. Kori's prediction came true. Tamara simply refused to show up for bridge duty. No amount of hailing her quarters would get a response.
“Internal scans reveal the Commander is in her quarters and is in a highly agitated state.” Ensign Debora Stone reported to Tyr who was closeted in the Ready Room with Khan.
“Thank You, Ensign. Please have Lt. Commander Gilgamesh report to my Ready Room, ASAP.” Tyr ordered.
“Aye, sir.” Stone replied, and immediately relayed his order.
“Khan, I will be unavailable . . . . . I don't know how long. . . . .” Tyr started.
“I understand, my brother. May the Divine be with you.” Khan said.
A second later, Tyr's First Cousin Lt. Commander Gilgamesh ( who's the splitting image of Tyr, except he was bald, and was two shades darker ) stepped in and was given brief and concise orders.
As, Gilgamesh exited the Ready Room and took the central seat on the bridge, Tyr got into the lift and headed down to his quarters to make preparations.
* * * * * * * *
Tyr was ready to make his assault. He was dressed for bear as he strode down the corridor to Tamara's quarters. He was well aware that he was going to meet resistance, he just didn't expect so much.
As Kodiak Pride's Uber Alpha male, he expected to be challenged by other males of his Kodiak Pride who were also interested in Tamara. He just didn't anticipate having them challenge him all at once.
The tactic was not unheard of in the annuls of Nietzschean history. When a particularly powerful Alpha held sway, the other males would conspire with each other to kill two birds with one stone. Take down the Alpha and then present themselves to their object of desire.
It usually wound up in horrible failure. It amounted to multiple butts being kicked, and serious injuries. What was left, the Lady was not interested in, for she only had eyes for the Alpha.
All of this went through Tyr's mind and he walked up on the group of men assembled outside of Tamarra's quarters. Several were at work, attempting to pry the doors open, while the others stood guard.
Tyr glowered, growled, and roared a universal challenge at the group of 19 men. All valuable members of his crew, and all members of his Kodiak Pride. They all answered and attacked as one.
* * * * * *
Some time later, a bruised, lacerated and battered Tyr, emerged victorious. He totally ignored the door to Tamara's quarters and purposely strode further down the corridor to the nearest Jefferies tube. From there he accessed Conduit A45, and began to crawl along it's length.
* * * * * * *
Tamarra was hiding out in her quarters. Actually hiding out, in a corner of her bedroom with a fully charged phaser, set to kill.
She'd heard the noise at her door and knew it was none other than her self-elected “prospects” attempting to gain access. But, even with the heavy duty torches they'd brought it would take them a day or two to get in.
“By then, I will either go stark raving mad, or be dead.” Tamarra thought cryptically as another “flash” hit her. She was seriously considering putting the phaser to her head and ending it all.
So deep was Tamarra's concentration that she nearly did not hear the tiny sounds above her. She immediately stopped her mental rant, looked up and pointed her phaser up at the exact spot. A ceiling panel crashed to the deck and none other than Captain Tyr Anasazi rapelled down behind it.
However, Tyr was not dressed in uniform. He was kitted out full Nietzschean attire: Chain mail singlet, leather pants, matching boots, bandolier festooned with weaponry, and dreadlocks loosed. Smelling of sweat, blood . . . . . pure man.
Totally headless of the fact that Tamarra was holding a phaser on him, Tyr reached up, expertly yanked the rappel rope down, coiled it neatly and clipped it to his belt.
“Oh . . . . . . .My . . . . . Gawd!” Tamarra thought, as the mere sight and sent of him started her Vulcan blood howling.
“What are you doing here, Captain?” she managed to whisper evenly as she kept the phaser trained on Tyr.
“I believe you know, Tamarra.” was his gentle response.
“I cannot allow you to do that, Sir.” she croaked, her mouth suddenly gone dry.
“It appears that you don't have much of a choice.” Tyr replied. “What the hell happened here?” he continued, as he frowned and looked around her bedroom. The place was in a complete shambles, and every stick of furniture had been smashed.
“I had a wee fit of pique.” she replied, and shrugged, still holding the phaser on Tyr.
“You call the wanton destruction of Starfleet property a wee fit of pique?” he asked.
“I trust you will not put me on report, Sir.” she replied.
“No, I will not, however . . . . . . “ he started. Then WHAP! In a lighting quick strike, he'd knocked the phaser out of her hand and it flew clear across the room. “. . . . I do take exception to an armed phaser being pointed at me.” Tyr continued.
“I. . . .I . . . .” was all Tamarra could say.
“Tamarra. I don't want you to die.” Tyr said as he edged closer to her. Tamarra's green eyes widened as she backed away from him, backing right into a bulkhead. She mentally cursed the bulkhead in three languages.
“Starfleet Uniform Code 115, Paragragh B subsection 2. Officers are not allowed to fraternize . . . . . . .” she started. The Nietzschean was simply too close. She was on total sensory overload.
“It is not considered fraternization if two officers love one another.” Tyr said. Tamarra gazed into the depths of the Nietzschean's eyes which she only now realized were light brown, and saw the unvarnished truth. Tyr was there because he truly loved her.
“I do not wish to die either.” Tamarra said.
“You do realize that due to your so-called 'fit of pique' you've unwittingly rendered your quarters uninhabitable.” Tyr stated. Both Nietzschean and Vulcan stared into each others eyes. The unspoken invitation hung plainly in the air.
“Okay, let me get a few things.” she said, as she picked her way through the rubble which used to be her quarters.
Storm Warning - Chapter 25
Free Enterprise - Storm Warning - Chapter 25
Ten minutes later Dr. Kori, The Chief Medical Officer of the USS Insurrection, was sitting in The Captain's Ready Room and relating the past events to Captain Tyr and Khan. Tyr had just finished his breakfast and was sipping Rakktigino from one of the Insurrection's large, emblazoned, insulated mugs.
Pon Farr was not a condition to be taken lightly, especially when one of the sufferers happened to be second in command of the ship. Both men listened intently and silently as Kori described Tamarra's condition.
“What will remedy this condition?” Tyr asked.
Tamarra was the only Vulcan serving on his ship. Therefore other than the crude jokes and rumors he'd heard during his Academy days, and during his service, he was utterly clueless about Vulcans and their secret rituals.
“Oh my! This is not going to be pretty.” Khan thought, as his precog senses warned him to stay out of the conversation, for now.
“Let's see, how can I put this delicately? She will need someone to accommodate her for the duration.” Kori replied frankly.
In order to avoid choking, Tyr did a milk spit, only with hot Rakktigino. Khan was up in an instant with a cleaning cloth to wipe it up and handed a napkin to his commander.
“Accommodate?” Tyr asked, incredulously, as Khan chuffed.
“That's the price Vulcans pay for keeping their emotions tightly under wraps for so long.” Kori replied. “To quote an ancient Human saying 'It's not nice to mess with Mother Nature ' cuz the payback is a . . . . . well, you know . . . .” she continued.
“It is purely genetic because Tamarra is a Vulcan but was not raised as a Vulcan.” Khan intoned.
“What happens if she does not . . . ?” Tyr asked.
“She will die, Captain. The pressure on the mind and body is too great. Vulcans have been known to suffer heart attacks, strokes, embolisms, seizures, etc. All because they do not . . . . There is also a certain percentage of murders and suicides . . . . . .” Khan interjected.
Kori was privately glad Khan had said those words and not her. She was tired of being the bearer of bad news all of the time. Tyr's face looked as if it was set in stone, but Kori knew better. He was concerned for his lady-love.
“How long does she have?” Tyr asked.
“I told her about two weeks, but I think it will be much sooner.” Kori said. “When it gets really bad, Vulcans have a tendency to shut themselves away. So, when she refuses her duty shifts and barricades herself in her quarters, you'll know it's time.” she continued.
Tyr looked at his CMO with an extra grave expression as if to ask: “Will it get THAT bad?”
“Yes, it will.” Kori replied, with equal gravity.
Ten minutes later Dr. Kori, The Chief Medical Officer of the USS Insurrection, was sitting in The Captain's Ready Room and relating the past events to Captain Tyr and Khan. Tyr had just finished his breakfast and was sipping Rakktigino from one of the Insurrection's large, emblazoned, insulated mugs.
Pon Farr was not a condition to be taken lightly, especially when one of the sufferers happened to be second in command of the ship. Both men listened intently and silently as Kori described Tamarra's condition.
“What will remedy this condition?” Tyr asked.
Tamarra was the only Vulcan serving on his ship. Therefore other than the crude jokes and rumors he'd heard during his Academy days, and during his service, he was utterly clueless about Vulcans and their secret rituals.
“Oh my! This is not going to be pretty.” Khan thought, as his precog senses warned him to stay out of the conversation, for now.
“Let's see, how can I put this delicately? She will need someone to accommodate her for the duration.” Kori replied frankly.
In order to avoid choking, Tyr did a milk spit, only with hot Rakktigino. Khan was up in an instant with a cleaning cloth to wipe it up and handed a napkin to his commander.
“Accommodate?” Tyr asked, incredulously, as Khan chuffed.
“That's the price Vulcans pay for keeping their emotions tightly under wraps for so long.” Kori replied. “To quote an ancient Human saying 'It's not nice to mess with Mother Nature ' cuz the payback is a . . . . . well, you know . . . .” she continued.
“It is purely genetic because Tamarra is a Vulcan but was not raised as a Vulcan.” Khan intoned.
“What happens if she does not . . . ?” Tyr asked.
“She will die, Captain. The pressure on the mind and body is too great. Vulcans have been known to suffer heart attacks, strokes, embolisms, seizures, etc. All because they do not . . . . There is also a certain percentage of murders and suicides . . . . . .” Khan interjected.
Kori was privately glad Khan had said those words and not her. She was tired of being the bearer of bad news all of the time. Tyr's face looked as if it was set in stone, but Kori knew better. He was concerned for his lady-love.
“How long does she have?” Tyr asked.
“I told her about two weeks, but I think it will be much sooner.” Kori said. “When it gets really bad, Vulcans have a tendency to shut themselves away. So, when she refuses her duty shifts and barricades herself in her quarters, you'll know it's time.” she continued.
Tyr looked at his CMO with an extra grave expression as if to ask: “Will it get THAT bad?”
“Yes, it will.” Kori replied, with equal gravity.
Indecision - Chapter 24
Free Enterprise - Indecision - Chapter 24
“I believe I was too hard on her.” Tyr said. He and Khan had gotten an early morning start and were in the Lion's Den.
“How so, Tyr?” Khan asked.
“By ordering her to see Doctor Kori during our dinner date. Somehow I do not believe that was the appropriate time and place to do that.” Tyr replied.
He'd spent the entire night and morning musing on that very subject. Of course, he'd gotten not a wink of sleep. Now, he was ticked off at himself more than anything else.
“When would've been a good time? After all, you did notice Tamarra was not eating during dinner.” Khan asked.
“I ordered her to go because she kept dodging my questions. I did it out of concern for her health, yet she made it seem as if I was sending her to the gallows.” Tyr replied.
“She is a woman, Tyr, and women are very complicated creatures. Things are further complicated by the fact that they have been blessed with extra hormones to give birth and nurture young. Tamarra is especially burdened because she is fighting her own personal war with two cultures.” Khan said.
"Women are considered deep - why? Because one can never discover any bottom to them. Women are not even shallow." Tyr quoted.
"That's Niezsche, isn't it?" Khan asked. Tyr nodded.
“I seriously doubt if I will ever completely understand women.” Tyr said, after a long silence.
“No, you will not. But, as my father always used to say. 'with a good one you will enjoy the learning experience'.” Khan said, as he gazed at Tyr knowingly.
* * * * * * * *
Tamarra was hoping to avoid Dr. Kori but the Klingon was a habitual early riser who worked out, ate breakfast and arrived early for duty much to the chagrin of her subordinates. And much to the chagrin of the aforementioned.
After a through exam, both patient and doctor stared silently at one another for a full two minutes.
“You know, you people really kill me.” Kori said as she shook her head. “Either you pretend that you don't know you're sick. Or, pretend that you don't know what you have.” she continued more to herself. Tamarra had to control herself from bursting out laughing at that statement.
“You know exactly what you have Commander. And you didn't need the Captain's order for you to visit me and verify it.” Kori said, in her bold, no nonsense manner. Being a Klingon, she believed in avoiding the fluff and cutting right to the heart of a matter.
“How long have I got. Doctor.?” Tamarra asked.
“That will depend on you Commander. You've had far too much stimulation during the past few weeks, which may have accelerated the progression of your condition.” Kori said, as she folded her arms and sat side saddle on an adjoining biobed.
“Wonderful. Of course in all of the excitement of being assigned to a new ship, I never made the appropriate arrangements.” Tamarra said, as she put her face into her right palm. Her disowned uncle's words were coming back to haunt her.
“You mean for a bond mate?” Kori asked, warming up to the subject.
“No, other arrangements.” Tamarra replied.
“Then it is true.” Kori said.
“What is true?” Tamarra asked.
"That Vulcans have specialized services just for the unbonded.” Kori said.
“No Vulcan would ever admit to that, and neither will I.” Tamarra stated stoically.
“Oh, I see. Hush-hush, mush-mush.” Kori replied, as she held up her hands in mock surrender. “Don't worry, your secret will stay with me. By the way, since you cut everything so close, you only have two options now. Allow me to heavily medicate you for the duration, or find someone who will be accommodating.” she continued.
“Accommodating?” Tamarra asked.
Kori raised a bushy eyebrow at her in response.
“Who. . . . . who . . . . who would . . . .?” Tamarra continued.
“So, Captain Anasazi knocked Captain Bolivar on his butt just for the workout.” Kori said.
“Captain Anasazi? I would not dare ask him to do that! Never!” Tamarra replied, stridently, horrified by the thought. She couldn't conceive how she would make such a request.
“Why not? The man clearly loves you, Tamarra.” Kori stated. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you're kinda sweet on him too . . . ." Kori continued.
“I will hear no more of this!” Tamarra shouted, as she covered her ears, stood, then stormed out of the treatment room.
“You've got approximately 48 hours before things go to Hell in a hand basket! Don't let me have to come and drag your Vulcan butt out of your quarters and sedate you!” Kori shouted after the fleeing Tamarra.
“I believe I was too hard on her.” Tyr said. He and Khan had gotten an early morning start and were in the Lion's Den.
“How so, Tyr?” Khan asked.
“By ordering her to see Doctor Kori during our dinner date. Somehow I do not believe that was the appropriate time and place to do that.” Tyr replied.
He'd spent the entire night and morning musing on that very subject. Of course, he'd gotten not a wink of sleep. Now, he was ticked off at himself more than anything else.
“When would've been a good time? After all, you did notice Tamarra was not eating during dinner.” Khan asked.
“I ordered her to go because she kept dodging my questions. I did it out of concern for her health, yet she made it seem as if I was sending her to the gallows.” Tyr replied.
“She is a woman, Tyr, and women are very complicated creatures. Things are further complicated by the fact that they have been blessed with extra hormones to give birth and nurture young. Tamarra is especially burdened because she is fighting her own personal war with two cultures.” Khan said.
"Women are considered deep - why? Because one can never discover any bottom to them. Women are not even shallow." Tyr quoted.
"That's Niezsche, isn't it?" Khan asked. Tyr nodded.
“I seriously doubt if I will ever completely understand women.” Tyr said, after a long silence.
“No, you will not. But, as my father always used to say. 'with a good one you will enjoy the learning experience'.” Khan said, as he gazed at Tyr knowingly.
* * * * * * * *
Tamarra was hoping to avoid Dr. Kori but the Klingon was a habitual early riser who worked out, ate breakfast and arrived early for duty much to the chagrin of her subordinates. And much to the chagrin of the aforementioned.
After a through exam, both patient and doctor stared silently at one another for a full two minutes.
“You know, you people really kill me.” Kori said as she shook her head. “Either you pretend that you don't know you're sick. Or, pretend that you don't know what you have.” she continued more to herself. Tamarra had to control herself from bursting out laughing at that statement.
“You know exactly what you have Commander. And you didn't need the Captain's order for you to visit me and verify it.” Kori said, in her bold, no nonsense manner. Being a Klingon, she believed in avoiding the fluff and cutting right to the heart of a matter.
“How long have I got. Doctor.?” Tamarra asked.
“That will depend on you Commander. You've had far too much stimulation during the past few weeks, which may have accelerated the progression of your condition.” Kori said, as she folded her arms and sat side saddle on an adjoining biobed.
“Wonderful. Of course in all of the excitement of being assigned to a new ship, I never made the appropriate arrangements.” Tamarra said, as she put her face into her right palm. Her disowned uncle's words were coming back to haunt her.
“You mean for a bond mate?” Kori asked, warming up to the subject.
“No, other arrangements.” Tamarra replied.
“Then it is true.” Kori said.
“What is true?” Tamarra asked.
"That Vulcans have specialized services just for the unbonded.” Kori said.
“No Vulcan would ever admit to that, and neither will I.” Tamarra stated stoically.
“Oh, I see. Hush-hush, mush-mush.” Kori replied, as she held up her hands in mock surrender. “Don't worry, your secret will stay with me. By the way, since you cut everything so close, you only have two options now. Allow me to heavily medicate you for the duration, or find someone who will be accommodating.” she continued.
“Accommodating?” Tamarra asked.
Kori raised a bushy eyebrow at her in response.
“Who. . . . . who . . . . who would . . . .?” Tamarra continued.
“So, Captain Anasazi knocked Captain Bolivar on his butt just for the workout.” Kori said.
“Captain Anasazi? I would not dare ask him to do that! Never!” Tamarra replied, stridently, horrified by the thought. She couldn't conceive how she would make such a request.
“Why not? The man clearly loves you, Tamarra.” Kori stated. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you're kinda sweet on him too . . . ." Kori continued.
“I will hear no more of this!” Tamarra shouted, as she covered her ears, stood, then stormed out of the treatment room.
“You've got approximately 48 hours before things go to Hell in a hand basket! Don't let me have to come and drag your Vulcan butt out of your quarters and sedate you!” Kori shouted after the fleeing Tamarra.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
I Agree To Disagree - Chapter 23
A HEADS UP TO READERS: I could not find any other names of Vulcan foods except the much overused "Plomeek Soup", sooooo, I MADE ONE UP. So when you see it, don't ask "What the?", please remember I warned you. . . . . . . :+}!
Crossbow - I Agree To Disagree - Chapter 23
About an hour before their dinner date and Tamarra was having another good cry. She knew this wasn't like her, but she couldn't help it. She bawled her eyes out anyway. Then, once she'd calmed down, she checked her eyes in the bathroom mirror and cursed herself for being a fool, as a pair of green, bloodshot eyes stared back at her.
“You are a fool Tamarra!” she thought, as she got out her special eye drops which helped to clear up bloodshot eyes.
Tamarra then went through the motions of getting ready for dinner. It was funny how she was so thrilled to have dinner with Tyr a mere 18 hours ago, now she didn't want to be anywhere near the man. It was a good thing the two of them had served on differing tours so they did not have extensive contact with one another.
With his hyper-sensitive Nietzschean senses, Tyr was a walking, talking forensics lab and would surely know something was wrong with her.
“He probably already knows.” Tamarra thought, as she got dressed.
It was no wonder some races still kept their distance from the Nietzscheans. With their genetically enhanced senses, they were like cats, extremely sensitive and prickly to be around at times. That was also the reason some folks hated felines. So, it was no coincidence that the Katay and the Nietzscheans formed such a powerful alliance. They were just too much alike not to.
“Well, here goes nothin'.” Tamarra thought, as she took a final look at herself in the full length mirror, then glanced at her eyes. The drops had done the trick, but her eyes were a tad puffy.
“Well, that can't be helped.” she thought, as she headed for the door.
* * * * * * * *
Unlike the first time, Tamarra was not late to her dinner date. In fact, she was early. But, Tyr, being Tyr he was even earlier. As soon as the door to the Captain's Mess opened, she smelled food. Her stomach immediately roiled and rebelled.
“Oh God! Please don't let me be sick here of all places!” she thought, as they greeted each other and sat. Unlike the last time Gynn was serving, a large fresh salad and two Vulcan dishes had been prepared.
As soon as the food was served, Tyr dismissed Gynn and started eating. Tamarra smiled to herself. The Nietzschean had an appetite like a ravenous wolf. While she picked at her food. If Tyr noticed she was picking he mentioned nothing, as he regaled her with stories.
“So how did the Nietzscheans and the Katay meet?” she asked.
“Nietzschean historical accounts say that a party of Nietzschean explorers had landed on what was then an uninhabited planet and were exploring it for possible colonization. Unbeknownst to them an exploratory party of Katay was also on the planet.” Tyr began.
“I can almost tell where this is going.” Tamarra said.
“The Nietzschean exploratory party was being led by Demetrius Bactria out of Tomyris by Lysander of the Drago-Katzov Pride. Demetrius had to answer a call of nature. . . . . .”
“He had to wee?” Tamarra interrupted, and smiled at the quip. Tyr inwardly winced at her choice of words.
“. . . . . . And was looking for an appropriate spot to do so not knowing that Mohan of the Akoron Pride was doing the same thing.” Tyr finished.
“They didn't hear or smell each other?” Tamarra asked.
“According to the historical accounts, the planet's unique atmosphere blunted their senses, the way some planets resist sensor or tricorder readings.” Tyr explained.
“So what happened next?” Tamarra asked.
“They both decided to use the same fauna, surprised and scared the hell out of each other. After the initial shock died down, both Demetrius and Mohan broke bread and had the first historical meeting. Based on that meeting, our people entered into an alliance with the Katay, and here we are.” Tyr replied and smiled.
This was obviously the “shortened version” of the “encounter”. Tamarra would have to consult The Insurrection's computer data banks if she wanted more details.
“What happened to the planet?” Tamarra asked.
“Hopscotch?” Tyr asked.
“Hopscotch? Why'd they name it that?” Tamarra asked as she smiled and chuckled.
“The Katay and Nietzscheans never colonized it. We both refuse to live on a planet which blunts our senses, so several Human colonies are inhabiting it now. If we do visit, it is only for a very short stop or hop. Thus the name.” Tyr replied.
“Who actually named the planet?” Tamarra asked. For, at that particular time in history, the Nietzscheans did not know enough of Human history-culture to come up with such a moniker.
“Would you believe an eight year old Human child named Allison Glynn named it?” Tyr replied with a chuckle.
“And a child shall lead them.” Tamarra said.
“Tamarra, are you feeling unwell?” Tyr asked, swiftly changing the subject.
“Oh d**n! Caught like a fly in a spider's web!” Tamarra thought, in a panic.
“No. Why do you ask?” Tamarra replied.
“You have not touched your food.” Tyr replied. Feeling like a very rebellious child, Tamarra reached out and lay her hands upon the salad.
“There, I've touched my food.” she declared, as she smiled. Tyr's face remained as serious as one of the Vulcan Masters of Gol.
“Eaten, Tamarra.” Tyr stated, gravely.
“Oh-oh! There's no getting around him!” she thought.
“I have no appetite.” she confessed. Tyr was sitting directly across from her and watching her intently with his head slightly tilted to the left, observing her like an Old Earth scientist examining a specimen under a microscope. Tamarra fought the urge to squirm.
“Perhaps you should see Doctor Kori.” he said, softly. That was the last thing Tamarra wanted to do.
“I'd rather NOT!” she thought, fiercely to herself. For Tamarra was well aware WHAT the Klingon Chief Medical Officer of The Insurrection would find when she examined her.
“I don't need to see Dr. Kori. I'm fine. I just lost my appetite, that's all.” she replied.
“A loss of appetite is often a symptom of a more serious illness.” Tyr said.
"So, we're Doctor Tyr Anasazi now?" she thought. A thought Tammara would never voice, and was mortified her mind even "went there".
“No. No. I'm fine. . .” Tamarra insisted, aloud, as she took up her fork and began to eat the now cold food. Tyr frowned his distaste, stood and took the dish way from her.
“Eating cold Tofwa will definitely make you ill.” he said as he took the dish to the warmer and cycled it through. He then returned to the table with the now warmed food, and watched with a gimlet eye as Tamarra mechanically ate. Not enjoying or tasting a thing.
“Commander McPhearson, as of this moment I am relieving you of duty, and ordering you to see Doctor Kori. You will remain off duty until I receive a positive report from her. Believe it or not, I am concerned about your health.” Tyr said, after a long moment of silence.
Tamarra hung her head like a chastened child and would've cried like one had she not been sitting before her Commanding Officer.
“I will comply, Sir.” she replied, as she picked her head up and gazed back at her Captain.
“Forgive me for putting a damper on your evening. That was not my original intention.” Tyr whispered. Tamarra marveled that in one breath Tyr was able to deliver a hammer-blow order, and in another whisper an apology as gently as a lover.
“Perhaps that's just the Nietzschean way.” she thought, and sighed .
“That's alright, Sir. I will report to Sickbay first thing in the morning. Thank you so much for the dinner. Good Night, Sir.” Tamarra said, as she stood. Then quietly took her leave.
"Good Night, Commander." Tyr said.
Tyr sat rooted to his chair and stared at the closed doors, long after she was gone.
Crossbow - I Agree To Disagree - Chapter 23
About an hour before their dinner date and Tamarra was having another good cry. She knew this wasn't like her, but she couldn't help it. She bawled her eyes out anyway. Then, once she'd calmed down, she checked her eyes in the bathroom mirror and cursed herself for being a fool, as a pair of green, bloodshot eyes stared back at her.
“You are a fool Tamarra!” she thought, as she got out her special eye drops which helped to clear up bloodshot eyes.
Tamarra then went through the motions of getting ready for dinner. It was funny how she was so thrilled to have dinner with Tyr a mere 18 hours ago, now she didn't want to be anywhere near the man. It was a good thing the two of them had served on differing tours so they did not have extensive contact with one another.
With his hyper-sensitive Nietzschean senses, Tyr was a walking, talking forensics lab and would surely know something was wrong with her.
“He probably already knows.” Tamarra thought, as she got dressed.
It was no wonder some races still kept their distance from the Nietzscheans. With their genetically enhanced senses, they were like cats, extremely sensitive and prickly to be around at times. That was also the reason some folks hated felines. So, it was no coincidence that the Katay and the Nietzscheans formed such a powerful alliance. They were just too much alike not to.
“Well, here goes nothin'.” Tamarra thought, as she took a final look at herself in the full length mirror, then glanced at her eyes. The drops had done the trick, but her eyes were a tad puffy.
“Well, that can't be helped.” she thought, as she headed for the door.
* * * * * * * *
Unlike the first time, Tamarra was not late to her dinner date. In fact, she was early. But, Tyr, being Tyr he was even earlier. As soon as the door to the Captain's Mess opened, she smelled food. Her stomach immediately roiled and rebelled.
“Oh God! Please don't let me be sick here of all places!” she thought, as they greeted each other and sat. Unlike the last time Gynn was serving, a large fresh salad and two Vulcan dishes had been prepared.
As soon as the food was served, Tyr dismissed Gynn and started eating. Tamarra smiled to herself. The Nietzschean had an appetite like a ravenous wolf. While she picked at her food. If Tyr noticed she was picking he mentioned nothing, as he regaled her with stories.
“So how did the Nietzscheans and the Katay meet?” she asked.
“Nietzschean historical accounts say that a party of Nietzschean explorers had landed on what was then an uninhabited planet and were exploring it for possible colonization. Unbeknownst to them an exploratory party of Katay was also on the planet.” Tyr began.
“I can almost tell where this is going.” Tamarra said.
“The Nietzschean exploratory party was being led by Demetrius Bactria out of Tomyris by Lysander of the Drago-Katzov Pride. Demetrius had to answer a call of nature. . . . . .”
“He had to wee?” Tamarra interrupted, and smiled at the quip. Tyr inwardly winced at her choice of words.
“. . . . . . And was looking for an appropriate spot to do so not knowing that Mohan of the Akoron Pride was doing the same thing.” Tyr finished.
“They didn't hear or smell each other?” Tamarra asked.
“According to the historical accounts, the planet's unique atmosphere blunted their senses, the way some planets resist sensor or tricorder readings.” Tyr explained.
“So what happened next?” Tamarra asked.
“They both decided to use the same fauna, surprised and scared the hell out of each other. After the initial shock died down, both Demetrius and Mohan broke bread and had the first historical meeting. Based on that meeting, our people entered into an alliance with the Katay, and here we are.” Tyr replied and smiled.
This was obviously the “shortened version” of the “encounter”. Tamarra would have to consult The Insurrection's computer data banks if she wanted more details.
“What happened to the planet?” Tamarra asked.
“Hopscotch?” Tyr asked.
“Hopscotch? Why'd they name it that?” Tamarra asked as she smiled and chuckled.
“The Katay and Nietzscheans never colonized it. We both refuse to live on a planet which blunts our senses, so several Human colonies are inhabiting it now. If we do visit, it is only for a very short stop or hop. Thus the name.” Tyr replied.
“Who actually named the planet?” Tamarra asked. For, at that particular time in history, the Nietzscheans did not know enough of Human history-culture to come up with such a moniker.
“Would you believe an eight year old Human child named Allison Glynn named it?” Tyr replied with a chuckle.
“And a child shall lead them.” Tamarra said.
“Tamarra, are you feeling unwell?” Tyr asked, swiftly changing the subject.
“Oh d**n! Caught like a fly in a spider's web!” Tamarra thought, in a panic.
“No. Why do you ask?” Tamarra replied.
“You have not touched your food.” Tyr replied. Feeling like a very rebellious child, Tamarra reached out and lay her hands upon the salad.
“There, I've touched my food.” she declared, as she smiled. Tyr's face remained as serious as one of the Vulcan Masters of Gol.
“Eaten, Tamarra.” Tyr stated, gravely.
“Oh-oh! There's no getting around him!” she thought.
“I have no appetite.” she confessed. Tyr was sitting directly across from her and watching her intently with his head slightly tilted to the left, observing her like an Old Earth scientist examining a specimen under a microscope. Tamarra fought the urge to squirm.
“Perhaps you should see Doctor Kori.” he said, softly. That was the last thing Tamarra wanted to do.
“I'd rather NOT!” she thought, fiercely to herself. For Tamarra was well aware WHAT the Klingon Chief Medical Officer of The Insurrection would find when she examined her.
“I don't need to see Dr. Kori. I'm fine. I just lost my appetite, that's all.” she replied.
“A loss of appetite is often a symptom of a more serious illness.” Tyr said.
"So, we're Doctor Tyr Anasazi now?" she thought. A thought Tammara would never voice, and was mortified her mind even "went there".
“No. No. I'm fine. . .” Tamarra insisted, aloud, as she took up her fork and began to eat the now cold food. Tyr frowned his distaste, stood and took the dish way from her.
“Eating cold Tofwa will definitely make you ill.” he said as he took the dish to the warmer and cycled it through. He then returned to the table with the now warmed food, and watched with a gimlet eye as Tamarra mechanically ate. Not enjoying or tasting a thing.
“Commander McPhearson, as of this moment I am relieving you of duty, and ordering you to see Doctor Kori. You will remain off duty until I receive a positive report from her. Believe it or not, I am concerned about your health.” Tyr said, after a long moment of silence.
Tamarra hung her head like a chastened child and would've cried like one had she not been sitting before her Commanding Officer.
“I will comply, Sir.” she replied, as she picked her head up and gazed back at her Captain.
“Forgive me for putting a damper on your evening. That was not my original intention.” Tyr whispered. Tamarra marveled that in one breath Tyr was able to deliver a hammer-blow order, and in another whisper an apology as gently as a lover.
“Perhaps that's just the Nietzschean way.” she thought, and sighed .
“That's alright, Sir. I will report to Sickbay first thing in the morning. Thank you so much for the dinner. Good Night, Sir.” Tamarra said, as she stood. Then quietly took her leave.
"Good Night, Commander." Tyr said.
Tyr sat rooted to his chair and stared at the closed doors, long after she was gone.
FREE ENTERPRISE - WHY?
RATS! This was supposed to be at the BEGINNING of Free Enterprise! Unitl I find out how to reorder my post, here it will stay for now.
Greetings All!
Introduction:
I've been wanting to do this for a long time, Because I really love both shows. I've started it as a written role playing game on my website, but I wanted to share. it with all of you good folks.
This is an Andromeda ( Gene Roddenberry's ANDROMEDA )/Star Trek Fan Fiction story. I'm not going wax technical on how this particular "cross" happened. Wormhole? Guardian of Forever Portal? an unfortunate encounter with "Q"? A Star Gate malfunction? It's took much for even me to figure out and write so I'm going to leave it up to you good folks to take your pick.
This story is is purely a figment of my fertile imagination and THEREFORE NOT MEANT TO BE STRICTLY CANNON! You will find cannon references in FREE ENTERPRISE, but I am not sticking to cannon like glue. Why? I just wanted to have fun with the characters. I believe Keith Hamilton Cobb's ( melt ) portrayal of Tyr Anasazi was wonderful and engaging ( endearing at times ), but he wasn't utilized or expanded upon enough. Neither were the Nietzchean people. In other words, the show ended far too quickly without answering a lot of questions about the former and the latter.. Sooooo, I don't have to explain further. . . . . . :+} :+} :+}!
The reason I am explaining so stridently and at nausium is due to the fact that I got some serious blowback from certain ANDROMEDA fans who are strictly embedded in the CANNON corner. They did not seem to understand that: 1. This is merely a work of FAN FICTION and not meant for professional/paying consumption, and since I am not under professional strictures, I don't have to hold true to CANNON if I don't want to.. 2. I seek no monetary compensation for said story. I am merely writing it because I ENJOY writing. 3. I am merely exercising my First Amendment Right to write what I want, when I want, about what I want, and have the right to freely make it available to others on line. 4. My one and only promise is that I will not write anything R or X rated.
Please enjoy FREE ENTERPRISE, and leave plenty of comments.
~~ Thank You ~~
Greetings All!
Introduction:
I've been wanting to do this for a long time, Because I really love both shows. I've started it as a written role playing game on my website, but I wanted to share. it with all of you good folks.
This is an Andromeda ( Gene Roddenberry's ANDROMEDA )/Star Trek Fan Fiction story. I'm not going wax technical on how this particular "cross" happened. Wormhole? Guardian of Forever Portal? an unfortunate encounter with "Q"? A Star Gate malfunction? It's took much for even me to figure out and write so I'm going to leave it up to you good folks to take your pick.
This story is is purely a figment of my fertile imagination and THEREFORE NOT MEANT TO BE STRICTLY CANNON! You will find cannon references in FREE ENTERPRISE, but I am not sticking to cannon like glue. Why? I just wanted to have fun with the characters. I believe Keith Hamilton Cobb's ( melt ) portrayal of Tyr Anasazi was wonderful and engaging ( endearing at times ), but he wasn't utilized or expanded upon enough. Neither were the Nietzchean people. In other words, the show ended far too quickly without answering a lot of questions about the former and the latter.. Sooooo, I don't have to explain further. . . . . . :+} :+} :+}!
The reason I am explaining so stridently and at nausium is due to the fact that I got some serious blowback from certain ANDROMEDA fans who are strictly embedded in the CANNON corner. They did not seem to understand that: 1. This is merely a work of FAN FICTION and not meant for professional/paying consumption, and since I am not under professional strictures, I don't have to hold true to CANNON if I don't want to.. 2. I seek no monetary compensation for said story. I am merely writing it because I ENJOY writing. 3. I am merely exercising my First Amendment Right to write what I want, when I want, about what I want, and have the right to freely make it available to others on line. 4. My one and only promise is that I will not write anything R or X rated.
Please enjoy FREE ENTERPRISE, and leave plenty of comments.
~~ Thank You ~~
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