Introduction
I've always enjoyed Tom Selleck's work - from "Magnum, P.I.," to his western films and, more recently, his recurring role as "Jesse Stone." This last character struck a chord with me. Selleck (as Stone) plays a police chief in a small town who struggles with alcoholism and the pain of his divorce. His battle with the bottle cost him his job with a big city police department. Now, battling depression and addiction, he's trying to move forward with life with mixed results. Underneath, though, he's still a formidable cop.
I thought, What if this character were a starship captain? Jesse Yeager began to form in my head.
This will be different than my Border Service stories. Yeager will command the Sovereign-class USS Endurance. Can he get past his personal demons and lead his ship and crew on a critical mission of exploration and discovery?
We'll see. Let me know what you think.
TLR
ST: The Endurance of Jesse Yeager
Prologue:
19 June 2374
Operation Return – The Battle to Retake DS-9
USS Axanar
Flames and smoke filled the bridge of the USS Axanar, creating dancing shadows of light along the scorched bulkheads and shattered control stations. Captain Jesse Yeager coughed and spat blood on the carpeted deck, trying to clear his lungs and his mind. He was dizzy and disoriented. Blood trickled into his eyes from a scalp wound. Yeager looked down at his left leg and a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The leg was caught under a fallen support beam and bent at an impossible angle. For some reason, he felt no pain – yet.
He suddenly remembered the two Galor-class battleships that had converged on his Excelsior-class ship in the midst of the melee’. The Axanar had held its own, for a time, but the heavy fire from the Cardassian ships had eventually worn-down the old starship’s shields. Yeager had directed fire against the lead Galor, crippling it, when the Axanar’s bridge had exploded from a direct hit, killing most of the bridge crew and seriously injuring Yeager.
Yeager looked up and was surprised to see open space. Emergency shields were all that separated him from the vacuum of open space. He looked forward, squinting at the flickering viewscreen. One of the Galors was broken in two and venting plasma. The second was foundering but intact and dangerous, attempting to come around for the final kill. He looked over at the tactical station. Lt. Darden was sprawled half-out of her chair, her dead eyes staring back flatly at Yeager. The captain quickly looked around, but no one else on the bridge was conscious. His commbadge was gone – ripped away and lost in the debris of the wrecked bridge.
He tried to pull his leg free from the beam with no success. He looked up again at the Cardassian ship – moving slowly but moving nonetheless against a backdrop of utter chaos as hundreds of ships engaged in lethal exchanges. He knew he had to get to the tactical station and man the weapons.
Yeager felt the phaser at his hip. He pulled it free, and adjusted the setting to tight beam. He fired at the girder, trying to cut through, but quickly realized it would take too long. He glanced once more at the screen before aiming the phaser at a point just below his left knee . . .
Chapter One
Owyhee Mountains, Idaho - Earth
7 February 2377
Jesse Yeager’s heavy flannel shirt was soaked with perspiration and his shoulder muscles burned, but he stubbornly chopped away at the dwindling pile of wood, reducing it to usable firewood for the stove of his cabin. The dry, sub-freezing air bit into his lungs and his nose was running, but he maintained the rhythm of the ax, relishing the pain in his body and the cold that stung his flesh. Already, he had cut nearly a half cord of firewood since breakfast. His bio-synthetic left leg tingled and throbbed from the exertion but held firm.
A familiar noise tickled Yeager’s ears – a soft, high-pitched sound that grew in intensity, then faded. Yeager took a deep breath, partially a sigh; partially his body’s craving for more oxygen in the thin, mountain air. He did not turn to greet his unwelcome visitor, but attacked the timber with even greater intensity, sending woodchips flying.
“Captain Yeager?”
Yeager stopped chopping, chest still heaving from exertion. He swung the ax down once more, embedding the blade in a stump and grabbed a towel hanging from a tree limb. Wiping the icy sweat from his face, he turned to face the intruder.
“What can I do for you, Admiral?” asked Yeager as he turned to face Vice Admiral John Hendricks of Starfleet Command, one of Yeager’s old instructors from the Academy.
Hendricks jerked his head in the direction of the cabin. “For starters, you could invite me into your cabin. It’s as cold as an Andorian’s ass out here!”
Yeager picked up his discarded parka and brushed off the snow. He faced Hendricks without speaking for a few moments, shrugged, and trudged toward the cabin. The admiral followed.
The rustic cabin was small but clean and neat. It was built from thick logs and a sheet metal roof covered the structure. A wood burning stove glowed red with welcoming heat. The living area featured a well-worn leather sofa, two wooden rocking chairs, and a small table with two chairs. A small but efficient kitchen took up one wall. Two doors graced the opposite wall, leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. The head of an elk regarded the two men silently from high over the stove. Two windows flanking the stove provided a majestic view of the Owyhee Mountains. A yellow Labrador retriever lifted his head from a corner rug when the men entered, then dropped it back down with a chuff. His eyes closed and he quickly resumed his soft snoring.
Jesse hung his parka on a wooden peg and walked to the stove where a battered, blue enamel coffee pot stood. He pulled two mugs off of a wall rack, poured the steaming brew, and handed a mug to Hendricks, who accepted it gratefully. Yeager folded his tall, well-muscled frame into one of the rocking chairs. He indicated for Hendricks to take the other rocker.
“How did you come by this place?” asked Hendrix, seating himself.
“I built it,” said Yeager. Hendricks looked surprised. “The land it’s on and about another 3200 acres has been in my family for generations. Dad has his own cabin about a mile from here.”
Hendricks looked appreciatively around the cabin. It looked all the world like something from the nineteenth century, save for the electric lights and small replicator in the kitchen. His gaze fell on a small object that hung from a rafter – round with leather strings and feathers.
“It’s a dreamcatcher,” said Yeager. “My mother was Shoshone. It belonged to her.”
“And the moose up there? How did you come by it?” asked Hendricks, pointing to the mounted head.
“It’s an elk.” Yeager propped a foot on the coffee table and leaned back in the rocker. “Admiral – what do you want?”
Hendricks took a sip of the coffee, grimacing as the hot beverage burned his tongue. “I have a new assignment for you, Jesse.”
Yeager took a sip from his own mug. “The stop-loss order has been rescinded, Admiral. I don’t plan on coming back.”
“It’s a brand new ship – the USS Endurance. Sovereign-class Mark-3, state of the art. Maybe one of the last new ones for a while since our new President wants to cut back starship production.”
Jesse looked out the window and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I think I’ve already paid my dues to Starfleet, Admiral.”
“Jesse . . .”
“I lost my wife because of that fool, Leyton. I lost my ship, most of my crew, even my leg.” Yeager turned his heavy gaze to the Admiral. “I really don’t have anything left worth giving, Admiral.”
Hendricks proceeded as if he hadn’t heard Yeager. “It’s going to be an exploration mission. You won’t have to deal with refugees, insurgents, or any of that.” Hendricks leaned forward, his face animated with excitement. “It’s a five year exploratory mission, Jesse! The likes of which we haven’t attempted in decades!”
A humorless smile formed on Yeager’s face. “Picard would probably take issue with that.”
Hendricks snorted. “Picard! Look . . . Jesse. Jean-Luc is a great captain and explorer – that’s true enough. But ever since his encounter with the Borg, well . . .” The Admiral spread his hands. “Let’s just say that command has kept a tight reign on Picard and Enterprise.”
“A little too tight,” said Yeager. “We could have used Picard and the Enterprise during the war.”
Hendricks ignored the criticism. “I’m here to talk about you – not Picard. Along with Kathryn Janeway, you were the one I knew would be the next great explorer – in the tradition of Kirk, Wesley, Sulu . . . and yes, Picard!”
“Things didn’t turn out so well for Janeway, did they?”
A smile played over Hendricks face. “You might be interested to know – we’ve been in contact with Voyager.”
This news caught Yeager by surprise. He looked sharply at Hendricks. “They’re alive?”
“Alive and well. Mostly . . . They were thrown far into Delta quadrant and are slowly making their way home. We’ve just managed to establish contact with them.”
“How long until they get back?”
Hendricks face fell. “We . . . don’t know yet. It could still be many years. But we know they’re alive – and they’ve already begun to send us massive amounts of data about new planets and species we’d never dreamed of!”
“Good for Kathryn,” said Yeager, softly and sincerely, as he looked out the window once more. He and Kathryn Janeway had been classmates and friends at the Academy. “Well, Admiral, nice of you to stop by, but I’ve still got wood to lay in before the next bout of heavy weather hits.”
Hendricks stood and tossed a padd on the small table. “Jesse, for the last two and a half years you’ve been through Hell – the hospital and rehab, the review board, Yvonne . . .” He stopped, not wanting to inflict more pain than necessary. “But dammit, you’re a fine Starfleet officer – one of the best Captains we have! I’m giving you an opportunity most starship commanders can only dream of! You’ve been cleared by Starfleet Medical and a host of counselors who say you’re ready for ship duty again. So, the question is this, Captain . . . are you going to spend the rest of your days as a hermit in a hut? Or do you want to chase the dream and go where no one’s gone before?” He gestured to the padd. “Before you decide, read that. I think you’ll find the central aspect of the mission very interesting.” Hendricks paused, an enigmatic smile creeping up on his face, “Unless the idea of contact with beings from another galaxy doesn’t interest you.”
With that, the Admiral tapped his commbadge. “Hendricks to transporter control. One to beam up.” He looked again at Yeager. “Thanks for the coffee.” The transporter effect took him and he was gone.
Yeager continued to look out the window at the cold, snow-covered landscape for a long time, occasionally taking a sip of coffee and absently rubbing his new leg. Finally, he glanced down at the padd.
“What the hell,” he muttered as he activated the screen with his thumbprint, and began to read.
* * *
I've always enjoyed Tom Selleck's work - from "Magnum, P.I.," to his western films and, more recently, his recurring role as "Jesse Stone." This last character struck a chord with me. Selleck (as Stone) plays a police chief in a small town who struggles with alcoholism and the pain of his divorce. His battle with the bottle cost him his job with a big city police department. Now, battling depression and addiction, he's trying to move forward with life with mixed results. Underneath, though, he's still a formidable cop.
I thought, What if this character were a starship captain? Jesse Yeager began to form in my head.
This will be different than my Border Service stories. Yeager will command the Sovereign-class USS Endurance. Can he get past his personal demons and lead his ship and crew on a critical mission of exploration and discovery?
We'll see. Let me know what you think.
TLR
ST: The Endurance of Jesse Yeager
Prologue:
19 June 2374
Operation Return – The Battle to Retake DS-9
USS Axanar
Flames and smoke filled the bridge of the USS Axanar, creating dancing shadows of light along the scorched bulkheads and shattered control stations. Captain Jesse Yeager coughed and spat blood on the carpeted deck, trying to clear his lungs and his mind. He was dizzy and disoriented. Blood trickled into his eyes from a scalp wound. Yeager looked down at his left leg and a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm him. The leg was caught under a fallen support beam and bent at an impossible angle. For some reason, he felt no pain – yet.
He suddenly remembered the two Galor-class battleships that had converged on his Excelsior-class ship in the midst of the melee’. The Axanar had held its own, for a time, but the heavy fire from the Cardassian ships had eventually worn-down the old starship’s shields. Yeager had directed fire against the lead Galor, crippling it, when the Axanar’s bridge had exploded from a direct hit, killing most of the bridge crew and seriously injuring Yeager.
Yeager looked up and was surprised to see open space. Emergency shields were all that separated him from the vacuum of open space. He looked forward, squinting at the flickering viewscreen. One of the Galors was broken in two and venting plasma. The second was foundering but intact and dangerous, attempting to come around for the final kill. He looked over at the tactical station. Lt. Darden was sprawled half-out of her chair, her dead eyes staring back flatly at Yeager. The captain quickly looked around, but no one else on the bridge was conscious. His commbadge was gone – ripped away and lost in the debris of the wrecked bridge.
He tried to pull his leg free from the beam with no success. He looked up again at the Cardassian ship – moving slowly but moving nonetheless against a backdrop of utter chaos as hundreds of ships engaged in lethal exchanges. He knew he had to get to the tactical station and man the weapons.
Yeager felt the phaser at his hip. He pulled it free, and adjusted the setting to tight beam. He fired at the girder, trying to cut through, but quickly realized it would take too long. He glanced once more at the screen before aiming the phaser at a point just below his left knee . . .
Chapter One
Owyhee Mountains, Idaho - Earth
7 February 2377
Jesse Yeager’s heavy flannel shirt was soaked with perspiration and his shoulder muscles burned, but he stubbornly chopped away at the dwindling pile of wood, reducing it to usable firewood for the stove of his cabin. The dry, sub-freezing air bit into his lungs and his nose was running, but he maintained the rhythm of the ax, relishing the pain in his body and the cold that stung his flesh. Already, he had cut nearly a half cord of firewood since breakfast. His bio-synthetic left leg tingled and throbbed from the exertion but held firm.
A familiar noise tickled Yeager’s ears – a soft, high-pitched sound that grew in intensity, then faded. Yeager took a deep breath, partially a sigh; partially his body’s craving for more oxygen in the thin, mountain air. He did not turn to greet his unwelcome visitor, but attacked the timber with even greater intensity, sending woodchips flying.
“Captain Yeager?”
Yeager stopped chopping, chest still heaving from exertion. He swung the ax down once more, embedding the blade in a stump and grabbed a towel hanging from a tree limb. Wiping the icy sweat from his face, he turned to face the intruder.
“What can I do for you, Admiral?” asked Yeager as he turned to face Vice Admiral John Hendricks of Starfleet Command, one of Yeager’s old instructors from the Academy.
Hendricks jerked his head in the direction of the cabin. “For starters, you could invite me into your cabin. It’s as cold as an Andorian’s ass out here!”
Yeager picked up his discarded parka and brushed off the snow. He faced Hendricks without speaking for a few moments, shrugged, and trudged toward the cabin. The admiral followed.
The rustic cabin was small but clean and neat. It was built from thick logs and a sheet metal roof covered the structure. A wood burning stove glowed red with welcoming heat. The living area featured a well-worn leather sofa, two wooden rocking chairs, and a small table with two chairs. A small but efficient kitchen took up one wall. Two doors graced the opposite wall, leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. The head of an elk regarded the two men silently from high over the stove. Two windows flanking the stove provided a majestic view of the Owyhee Mountains. A yellow Labrador retriever lifted his head from a corner rug when the men entered, then dropped it back down with a chuff. His eyes closed and he quickly resumed his soft snoring.
Jesse hung his parka on a wooden peg and walked to the stove where a battered, blue enamel coffee pot stood. He pulled two mugs off of a wall rack, poured the steaming brew, and handed a mug to Hendricks, who accepted it gratefully. Yeager folded his tall, well-muscled frame into one of the rocking chairs. He indicated for Hendricks to take the other rocker.
“How did you come by this place?” asked Hendrix, seating himself.
“I built it,” said Yeager. Hendricks looked surprised. “The land it’s on and about another 3200 acres has been in my family for generations. Dad has his own cabin about a mile from here.”
Hendricks looked appreciatively around the cabin. It looked all the world like something from the nineteenth century, save for the electric lights and small replicator in the kitchen. His gaze fell on a small object that hung from a rafter – round with leather strings and feathers.
“It’s a dreamcatcher,” said Yeager. “My mother was Shoshone. It belonged to her.”
“And the moose up there? How did you come by it?” asked Hendricks, pointing to the mounted head.
“It’s an elk.” Yeager propped a foot on the coffee table and leaned back in the rocker. “Admiral – what do you want?”
Hendricks took a sip of the coffee, grimacing as the hot beverage burned his tongue. “I have a new assignment for you, Jesse.”
Yeager took a sip from his own mug. “The stop-loss order has been rescinded, Admiral. I don’t plan on coming back.”
“It’s a brand new ship – the USS Endurance. Sovereign-class Mark-3, state of the art. Maybe one of the last new ones for a while since our new President wants to cut back starship production.”
Jesse looked out the window and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I think I’ve already paid my dues to Starfleet, Admiral.”
“Jesse . . .”
“I lost my wife because of that fool, Leyton. I lost my ship, most of my crew, even my leg.” Yeager turned his heavy gaze to the Admiral. “I really don’t have anything left worth giving, Admiral.”
Hendricks proceeded as if he hadn’t heard Yeager. “It’s going to be an exploration mission. You won’t have to deal with refugees, insurgents, or any of that.” Hendricks leaned forward, his face animated with excitement. “It’s a five year exploratory mission, Jesse! The likes of which we haven’t attempted in decades!”
A humorless smile formed on Yeager’s face. “Picard would probably take issue with that.”
Hendricks snorted. “Picard! Look . . . Jesse. Jean-Luc is a great captain and explorer – that’s true enough. But ever since his encounter with the Borg, well . . .” The Admiral spread his hands. “Let’s just say that command has kept a tight reign on Picard and Enterprise.”
“A little too tight,” said Yeager. “We could have used Picard and the Enterprise during the war.”
Hendricks ignored the criticism. “I’m here to talk about you – not Picard. Along with Kathryn Janeway, you were the one I knew would be the next great explorer – in the tradition of Kirk, Wesley, Sulu . . . and yes, Picard!”
“Things didn’t turn out so well for Janeway, did they?”
A smile played over Hendricks face. “You might be interested to know – we’ve been in contact with Voyager.”
This news caught Yeager by surprise. He looked sharply at Hendricks. “They’re alive?”
“Alive and well. Mostly . . . They were thrown far into Delta quadrant and are slowly making their way home. We’ve just managed to establish contact with them.”
“How long until they get back?”
Hendricks face fell. “We . . . don’t know yet. It could still be many years. But we know they’re alive – and they’ve already begun to send us massive amounts of data about new planets and species we’d never dreamed of!”
“Good for Kathryn,” said Yeager, softly and sincerely, as he looked out the window once more. He and Kathryn Janeway had been classmates and friends at the Academy. “Well, Admiral, nice of you to stop by, but I’ve still got wood to lay in before the next bout of heavy weather hits.”
Hendricks stood and tossed a padd on the small table. “Jesse, for the last two and a half years you’ve been through Hell – the hospital and rehab, the review board, Yvonne . . .” He stopped, not wanting to inflict more pain than necessary. “But dammit, you’re a fine Starfleet officer – one of the best Captains we have! I’m giving you an opportunity most starship commanders can only dream of! You’ve been cleared by Starfleet Medical and a host of counselors who say you’re ready for ship duty again. So, the question is this, Captain . . . are you going to spend the rest of your days as a hermit in a hut? Or do you want to chase the dream and go where no one’s gone before?” He gestured to the padd. “Before you decide, read that. I think you’ll find the central aspect of the mission very interesting.” Hendricks paused, an enigmatic smile creeping up on his face, “Unless the idea of contact with beings from another galaxy doesn’t interest you.”
With that, the Admiral tapped his commbadge. “Hendricks to transporter control. One to beam up.” He looked again at Yeager. “Thanks for the coffee.” The transporter effect took him and he was gone.
Yeager continued to look out the window at the cold, snow-covered landscape for a long time, occasionally taking a sip of coffee and absently rubbing his new leg. Finally, he glanced down at the padd.
“What the hell,” he muttered as he activated the screen with his thumbprint, and began to read.
* * *
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