Hmm, I think Yeager's decision is very debatable. The protocols are there for a reason and the argument that a new galalxy requires a new approch doesn't convince me entirely considering that most constants remain the same and losing the captain here might have even graver implications than if they were closer to home. It is interesting because I can see both sides of the argument here. In any case it is a risky call. And that is what makes this so damn interesting. Very good stuff.
I've got to agree with CeJay. They're in an absolutely new galaxy, and as their first away mission underscored there are unexpected dangers lurking everywhere. And if the captain gets killed because he wanted to 'lead from the front' like Captain Kirk, how much less chance does the expedition have to succeed?
CeJay and Gibraltar - you're in total agreement with the XO and senior staff of the Endurance. So why is Yeager doing this - ego? Or is he still dealing with his own personal demons? And why would Starfleet send a Captain with head issues on such an important mission? Maybe they didn't have a choice . . .
So Starfleet is running out of Captains? Hmmm...Or maybe they figured he couldn't F*** up anything important if he was in another galaxy?
A bit late in responding to this thread but an initial response would be: 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 . . This guy has b***s! Unless of course he has performed any other amateur surgeries on himself. A gutsy character but is he the best option for a mission of exploration? Don’t know but he’ll provide plenty of entertainment in the meantime What do you mean by And why would Starfleet send a Captain with head issues on such an important mission? Maybe they didn't have a choice . . . You're not hinting at a prophecy or predestination paradox!?
No, nothing so esoteric as that. And Yeager's not another Emissary-type, like Sisko. Still, Yeager was chosen because Starfleet was not given another choice by . . . Think about it. I hope to get back to this story in the near future. I still have to finish up the current Bluefin story, plus I'm collaborating on a project with DavidFalkayn. If things go according to plan (and they seldom do!) I should have another chapter or two of the Endurance up in June.
Sorry for the lengthy hiatus. Now that I've completed my recent Bluefin tale, I can devote more time to this story. Chapter Fifteen USS Endurance Stardate 54193.3 In standard orbit - N'ilmuta IV The Endurance continued orbital mapping and surveys of the lush planet below. Compared to their previous planetary encounter, this world was a virtual paradise. It boasted a rich, diverse and thriving eco-sytem, teeming with flora and fauna. Commander T'Vel and her staff identified several potential landing zones that would allow them to observe the land-based sentients. * * * Dr. Menendez looked up from her chair in her office to see a bloody and bedraggled Captain Yeager leaning against the doorframe, wearing running shorts, an Academy T-shirt, and a bemused expression on his face. She quickly rose and helped him to a nearby bio-bed. He winced as she helped lift his lacerated left leg up. "What happened?" she asked, as Nurse Kwan hurried over with a tray of instruments. Yeager looked embarassed. "I was in the holodeck on my morning run with Max, when George just gave out. I lost my footing and landed on a rocky patch of beach." Menendez frowned. "George? Who's George? And how did you get hurt anyway? The safety protocols should have prevented that." She wiped blood from a nasty abrasion on his left shin. Jesse winced. "George is what I call my 'new' leg. When I was going through rehab, the therapists said it would take time for my leg and I to 'communicate.' I figured it should at least have a name if we were going to get acquainted." She cut her eyes up at him. "And the safety protocols? You turned them off, didn't you?" Yeager shrugged. "The sand doesn't provide enough resistance with the protocols on - it defeats the purpose of running on a beach." "Maybe you should stick to swimming," she muttered as she ran the dermal regenerator over his leg. She then focused on a deep and nasty cut on his arm. "Leslie? I'm going to need the protoplaser for this cut - it's pretty deep." Nurse Kwan scurried off to get an anabolic protoplaser while Dr. Menendez ran her scanner over Yeager's leg. Something on the scan caused her to frown. Yeager noticed. "What?" he asked. Menendez hesitated slightly. "It's probably nothing. Have you had any problems with your bio-synthetic leg? Pain? Tingling? Numbness?" Yeager thought a moment. "Well, yeah - sometimes. It tingles a good bit after I exercise - kind of a pins and needles sensation." He looked into her face. "Why do you ask?" She straightened. "I'd like to do a nerve induction study on 'George' here. Just to be on the safe side." Jesse felt a trickle of alarm. "Lori - you're avoiding my question. What's going on?" His tone was firm. She met his gaze with her own. "Jesse, there's an indication of neural breakdown in your leg. It's not wide-spread and may simply be the result of a strain, or even a virus . . ." "But?" he pressed. "But . . ." she continued, "there are rare instances where bio-synthetic grafts fail - usually due to delayed rejection. It can manifest itself through muscular atrophy, the breakdown of nerve sheathing, or the collapse of the circulatory system. I'm not saying that's the case here, but I'll need to run some tests to be sure." Yeager nodded, his face unreadable. "And if it is rejection - what then? Do I lose the leg again?" Her expression was somber, but she nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so." He nodded in return. They were both silent for a moment. "If it . . . my leg, is being rejected . . . how long would it take? You know, until . . ." "That's difficult to say without running tests. . . Look, I shouldn't have said anything without running the tests first." Yeager forced a smile. "I'd rather know up front, Doc. Thanks. So . . . when can you do the tests?" "Now, if you like." "Alright. Let's do this." * * * "You wanted to see me, Jess?" Tamura stood inside the doorway to Yeager's ready room. The Captain was seated, holding a padd in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He did not look up. "Yeah Osamu. I've, ah, decided not to go down with the landing party, at least not for now. I want you to lead the first group. T'Vel seems to think we're ready to put some boots on the ground and look around a bit." Tamura eyebrows went up in surprise. "Okay . . . Sure, I'll be glad to." He waited, expecting an explanation. "Not that I'm complaining, Jess, but what changed your mind?" Yeager kept his gaze on the padd. He took a sip of coffee, then placed his mug on the desk. "That'll be all for now, Commander. I'll leave the make-up of the landing party in your hands." Tamura blinked in surprise. "Jess?" Yeager rubbed his chin, still avoiding eye contact. "Not now, Osamu. Let me know when you've selected your away team. Dismissed." * * * Tamura checked holodeck four. Sure enough, Lt. Commander Pralax was running a program. Computer, open door and create arch in the current program. Authorization, Tamura gamma one four four nine. "Acknowledged," responded the computer, and the large, double doors slid apart in a subdued whine. Tamura stepped through the archway into a Terran forest. Sunlight filtered down through the trees, dissolving the last remains of the morning mist. He stood, hands on waist, listening. At first he only heard the musical song of birds and the slight whisper of a faint breeze moving through the leaves. Then, he heard another sound - faint at first, then gradually growing in volume. Bravely bold Sir Grelden, came forth to Camelot; He was not afraid to die, no, brave sir Grelden! He was not at all afraid to be killed in nasty ways; Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Grelden!. . . Tamura leaned against a tree and crossed his arms, waiting. Soon, a rather odd processional appeared, moving his way. The small throng was dressed in medieval outfits. Some carried banners, others carried the weapons for the central figure - a knight, wearing armor, skipping along while two attendants banged the husks of coconuts together in imitation of horses hooves. The knight spotted Tamura and threw up his hands to his small entourage. "Whoa there!" the knight cried. One of the attendants made a credible impression of a horse's whinny. "Pralax, you're one sick puppy, you know that?" said Osamu, shaking his head and grinning. "That's 'Sir Grelden' to you, knave!" said the Trill Security Chief as he lifted the visor of the helmet. "So, what's up? You want to help me battle the Black Knight?" A menacing musical measure suddenly sounded out. Pralax rolled his eyes. "Freeze program!" he shouted. The music wound down, like an old record player and the gathered characters froze in place. "Seriously, Pralax," continued Tamura, "I just don't get the Monty Python obsession. You're not even human, much less, English." Pralax removed his helmet. "That doesn't mean I can't appreciate British comedy. Four years at Oxford does wonders for one's perspective. Besides," he continued, "it's certainly a notch above than those tasteless 'Mouse Pack' programs you run, hanging out in 20th century casinos in Las Veggies." "That's 'Rat Pack' - and it's 'Las Vegas,' you whacko!" Pralax squinted at his old friend. "I'm quite enjoying the repartee, Osamu, but is there some reason that you're interrupting my precious holodeck time?" Tamura's grin faded. "Yeah, there is. We need to talk - I'm really concerned about Jesse." * * *
Oh wow, this is some bad news for Yeager right here. This might change a lot of things and as we don't really know where you'll be taking this, anything can happen. Good thing Jesse has some good (if weird) friends to help him out. But I guess this is called The Endurance of Jesse Yeager for good reason. Excellent segment.
Aw man! You missed out on an awesome title - I mean I like The Endurance of Jesse Yeager and all but please consider: Star Trek: The Adventures of Curious George[LEFT]Anyway just think about it[/LEFT]
Where are they going to get a spare? That's what kept running through my head. Monty Python. (Winces) It had to be Python. Just don't weave the dead Parrot sketch in, ok? That would be a bit much. Now, considering Yeager's latest problem, the Ministry of Silly Walks might work...
Looks like Jesse might end up losing the leg--well, Mr. Bush found a way to keep going after losing his leg, I have a feeling Jesse will as well. And Monty Python and the Rat Pack...talk about your 'strangers in the night'.
Ah! Another Horatio Hornblower aficionado! Always liked the stalwart Mr. Bush in the HH series. Yeah, Tamura and Pralax have their quirks, just in very opposite directions. No parrots were harmed in the writing of this segment. Neither were any black knights. Glad you're enjoying it and I'm happy to be back writing the Endurance saga. Now, let's beam down a landing party and nose around a bit.
Great stuff. I'm glad to see the crew of Endurance back after their hiatus. The captain's bio-grafted leg is worrisome. Something tells me that might be something that necessitates the medical facilities of a starbase... and the nearest of those is a galaxy away.
Chapter Sixteen Stardate 54194.2 Near a Kreenja village, Northern continent - N'ilmuta IV As Kreenja went, Chuliho of Warmden was fairly typical. He was slightly under one meter in height, bipedal with two large, black eyes, erect ears, a small but sensitive nose and covered with a thin layer of fur. His was reddish in color. Chuliho was 17 cycles of age, roughly middle-aged for a Kreenja. He was a very social being, also typical of Kreenja, and curious as well. So when he noticed a strange scent on the air as he drove his hurntha cart back to his den-village, he stopped to investigate. He allowed the two Hurntha - short, stocky bovine-like creatures with prehensile snouts, to graze on the sweetgrass while he moved into the forest. Chuliho wasn't exactly afraid, but his ears were perked up. There were predators in the woods that could hurt him, but this scent differed from that of a Gromboo or Virunk. Their smells were both rank and strong. This scent was, well, just different . . . not unpleasant, but unlike any scent he'd ever encountered. He moved a bit farther into the dense foliage, but saw nothing, though the scent lingered. It seemed stronger, too, as he moved forward. Chuliho was torn between his innate curiosity and a strong self-preservation instinct. He wished to discover the source of this intriguing smell, but what if it was dangerous? He let out a low noise, a cross between a growl and a whine, as his anxiety grew. He had a small blade in his shoulder pouch, but it was scarcely a weapon - more of a tool, really. Chuliho decided that, perhaps, he should return to his cart full of Sciir roots, when a sudden warbling noise caused him to freeze. * * * Lt. Commander T'Vel turned her head toward Ensign Jurling, and fixed him with a piercing stare. Jurling quickly deactivated the tri-corder scan that he had inadvertently activated, caught up in observing the small being scant meters away. They were lying prone underneath a bush, attempting to remain unseen. T'Vel placed a finger over her lips and slowly turned back to observe the creature, now standing stock-still, its nose and ears quivering. Their stealth-suits provided a degree of visual camouflage and even masked their scent to a degree. Apparently, the locals had very developed senses. The Vulcan Science Officer made a mental note to remind her staff of the importance of keeping their scanners in silent mode when conducting blind studies. Apparently Ensign Jurling had neglected that protocol. Too late to remedy that, now. She looked at her own tri-corder to get the bearings of the rest of the away team. Commander Tamura and Lt. Commander Pralax were twenty meters away. Corpsman Estoban and Lt. Pascal were closer to the road, but well-concealed. Though she did not believe in luck, T'Vel estimated the probability that they would remain undiscovered to be 71.458% in their favor. * * * Ensign Hans Jurling gritted his teeth and silently cursed his stupidity. How could he have forgotten to mute his tri-corder? Even worse - how had he been so clumsy to activate it? He had no doubt that Commander T'Vel would deal with him severely when they returned to the ship. He forced his attention on the small creature which stood, petrified, a short distance away. It reminded him of a spindly, Terran primate, but with features that were more felinoid, save for the very large eyes. Yet, it was very different from both. It's simple clothing and shoulder sack indicated a primitive, yet intelligent culture. As he observed the small creature, he was astonished and dismayed when it slowly turned its gaze directly toward him. * * * Chuliho listened intently, but did not hear the strange sound repeat. It had sounded like an avian - almost. Yet, the sound was unlike any avian he had ever encountered. And the scent, though faint, was still there. A portion of his brain processed both the scent and sound, filtering out other, familiar sensory input. It was an autonomic function that allowed the Kreenja to locate and avoid danger. Unconsciously, Chuliho's head turned slightly, and his gaze fell on a shadow under a bush. His brain told him that the shadow did not belong. Something lay in wait for him there - something very strange. * * * USS Endurance Stardate 54194.2 Standard orbit - N'ilmuta IV Captain Yeager entered Dr. Menedez' office and noted the presence of Counselor Benessa Shain. He smiled wryly. "I suppose the Counselor is here to help me process the bad news?" The CMO and Counselor exchanged looks before Menendez spoke. "Captain, I've gone over the test results a dozen times. I'm sorry to say that they indicate that your body is rejecting the bio-synthetic implant." Yeager raised his eyebrows and blew out pent-up breath. "I see. Well . . ." He looked back at Menendez. " . . . how long before George quits working?" Shain frowned. "George?" she asked, puzzled. "That's what he calls his leg." Menendez returned her attention to Yeager. "Captain - I can't answer that with any degree of certainty. Latent rejection is rare. In the cases I studied, it varies from weeks to months. In some cases, there is a gradual break-down of neural function. In others, the break-down occurs quickly." The Captain nodded, trying to process his situation. "So, what are my options when the leg . . . fails." Menendez swallowed. She had dreaded this question. "Captain . . . Jesse . . . I can't replace your leg with another bio-synthetic leg. Even if we had the capability on this ship - which we don't - the chance of another rejection is nearly 100%. However, we do have options!" Shain watched Yeager closely, but his expression remained unchanged. He was also doing an excellent job of guarding his feelings. Too good a job, she mused. The Doctor continued. "One, we can replace the bio-synthetic leg with a cybernetic replacement. It would, in time, function as well as your other leg. Plus, there is almost no chance of rejection." "But it would be a 'fake' leg," observed Yeager. "In a sense, yes," conceded Menendez, "but it would look natural and provide you with full mobility." Yeager didn't ask if it would feel natural. "You said options - plural. What else?" The lovely Spanish Doctor hesitated. "It's a long shot - a very long shot . . . but I may be able to arrest the process of rejection." The Captain frowned. "But you told me the process is irreversible!" "It is - what I mean is that it always has been irreversible. But I've had a lot of experience dealing with various neuropathies. If I can stop the deterioration of the nerve sheathing, I may be able to halt the process of rejection." Yeager nodded. "Well, as long as I can get around, I won't be choosy. Thank you, Doctor." He turned to leave. "Captain?" Counselor Shain restrained Yeager with a hand on his arm. "I'd like a few moments of you time, please." "You can use my office," said Dr. Menendez as she dropped a Feinberger scanner into the pocket of her lab coat. "I've got some physical exams to conduct." "I smell a set-up," said Yeager, dourly. "Yes, you do!" said Menendez, smiling brightly. "And, as CMO, I'm ordering you to resume your scheduled appointments with Counselor Shain. No more excuses, Captain." With that, she strode from the office. Shain smiled impishly at Yeager who dropped resignedly into a chair. "Alright, Captain - let's talk!" * * * Chuliho suddenly turned and bolted in the direction of the road. He ran in a blind panic, heedless of obstacles before him Unfortunately, his chosen path was leading him directly toward Estoban and Pascal. T'Vel did not hesitate. She rose from concealment, leveled her phaser, and fired a mild stun charge that caught Chuliho between the shoulder blades. He dropped immediately into the soft cushion of leaves and lichen that covered the forest floor. The rest of the away team trotted over to the small, prone creature. Tamura looked pissed. "Commander T'Vel - explain yourself!" he demanded, angrily. T'Vel regarded Tamura cooly. "I stunned the creature to prevent cultural contamination. In two point one six seconds, he would have encountered Lt. Pascal and Corpsman Estoban. Logic dictated that I prevent that." "By shooting the poor blighter?" asked Pralax, incredulous. T'Vel raised an eyebrow. "What would you have me do, Mr. Pralax? Allow the native to see us? Violate the Prime Directive? I followed acceptable protocol for this situation. Tamura nodded curtly, though he was clearly still unhappy. "Very well, Commander. But who broke silence and activated their tri-corder?" "That was me, sir," admitted Ensign Jurling. "I . . . neglected to place my scanner in silent-mode. The First Officer glared at Jurling. "I'll discuss that with you later, Ensign." He turned back to T'Vel. "Now what?" "I recommend we avail ourselves of this opportunity by taking the native back to the ship, run in-depth scans, then return him safely before he regains consciousness. Dr. Menendez should be able to administer something to induce short-term amnesia." "Gawd, it's like old Terran stories about alien abductions!" exclaimed Pralax. "Are you suggesting we bugger the poor bastard with probes, T'Vel?" "Certainly not, Mr. Pralax," she replied, calmly. "I must admit, I do not understand the reason for your unseemly comments. You are allowing your emotions to cloud your thinking." "Let's just get this done quickly," interrupted Tamura. He slapped his combadge. "Tamura to Endurance, seven to beam up." There was a moment's hesitation. "Ah, say again Commander - did you say 'seven' to beam up?" Tamura sighed. "You heard me Chief. And make it snappy." He closed the channel. How many away missions can we frak-up in five years? he wondered as the transporter effect engulfed them. * * *
No kidding, how many can they frak up? I found myself grinning by the end of this-as I often do with your stories. Good job!
The true test of a man is his ability to overcome his own demons--I have a feeling we're going to see Yeager face that test soon. Did T'Vel make a mistake? Could beeeee... Of course there's always the buggering the poor guy with probes route... Very nicely done!