I was wondering the same thing about the Kelvans! I wonder if their problem is related, or if they're at war with each other. Chapter 3 should be most interesting
ST: The Endurance of Jesse Yeager
- Thread starter TheLoneRedshirt
- Start date
I was wondering the same thing about the Kelvans! I wonder if their problem is related, or if they're at war with each other. Chapter 3 should be most interesting
*Shudder*
Very chilling. I too like this direction. It is very interesting when a superior civilization actually comes to seek out help from the inferior Federation. A nice role reversal.
And the dilemma here is quite convincing, well as convincing as something you can't really understand can be.
I'm very much hooked here!
You've chosen an interesting path. i'd be very careful where you go next or you run the risk of skewing towards implausibility. Having superior beings come to the Feds for help w/their own kind is a delicate balancing act that could easily stumble. I look forward to seeing how you carry this premise forward. (That is an ugly sentence but best I could do.)
I like the idea, especially as he gives a nice mention to my uberbaddies that the Feds haven't fought, yet. 
Starfleet Command, San Francisco
10 February 2377, 1347 local time
Office of Vice-Admiral John Hendricks
Chapter Four
For several minutes, no one spoke in Admiral Hendricks’ office. The only sound came from the ticking of an antique wall clock. Finally, Jesse broke the silence.
“K’Lanthra . . . forgive me, but – I don’t see how we can possibly help you. We very nearly lost to the Borg and are still recovering from the Dominion War. Why did you seek us out, anyway?”
The smile returned to the H’Lranthian’s face and the ethereal glow brightened. “Over 100 of your years ago, a race of beings from our galaxy set out on a mission of exploration and conquest. They spread out in great generation ships to cross the interstellar void. One of these ships came to your galaxy, but was all but destroyed by the energy barrier they encountered.
A memory clicked into place in Yeager’s mind. He nodded. “The Kelvan. I read about them while in the Academy. They attempted to take over the USS Enterprise under James Kirk.”
“Correct, Captain. The Kelvan are an aggressive species, yet your Captain Kirk prevailed over them with reason and compassion. Unfortunately, their home planet has succumbed to radiation poisoning and there are no Kelvan in our galaxy. I believe a small population does reside in this galaxy.”
Yeager nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
“The leader of the Kelvan, Rojan, and Captain Kirk sent a message back toward Andromeda, ferried on an unmanned Federation vessel. We recovered the vessel in the void and learned much of your Federation, your values, your character and your history. In many ways, we are very similar, Captain. We value life, liberty and the dignity of persons. But above all, you have shown remarkable resiliency. Your member races have overcome many obstacles – war, famine, natural disasters – and yet, you not only have survived, you have thrived.” She peered at him intently. “You persevere, Jesse Yeager. It is a quality I fear we have lost.”
Yeager grimaced in confusion. “Ma’am, I still don’t understand how that matters to you.”
“Above all, our people need to recover hope. But they need a concrete example. Your Federation exemplifies that which we have nearly lost. There is a chance . . . admittedly slim, that the leaders of the Dark might be persuaded to turn from despair and back to the light. I have requested that one of your ships accompany me back to the Andromeda galaxy. In return for your help, you will have ample opportunity to explore space that has been beyond your reach.”
Yeager looked at Admiral Hendricks. “Admiral? Why am I here? Of all people to command such a mission, I’m probably least qualified!”
Before the Admiral could answer, K’Lanthra spoke. “No, Jesse Yeager. Of all people, you are best qualified to lead this mission. You have faced the darkness – are still facing it. But you will endure.”
Yeager narrowed his eyes. “How can you know that? . . . know me?” he retorted, coldly.
“I know,” she said, with confidence and serenity.
Yeager maintained his cold stare for several moments. “And what if these leaders of the Dark, don’t listen? What happens to us then, K’Lanthra?”
She hesitated. “No one can say what the future holds.”
Yeager knew she was lying, but said nothing else.
* * *
Amazon River Basin
12 February 2377, 1003 local time
Deep in the rain forest
Lt. Commander Grelden Pralax was grinning a bit more than the situation warranted. The jungle heat and humidity were oppressive. The thick vegetation made headway difficult, and, on top of that, a sudden downpour had soaked the Trill Starfleet officer and the dozen cadets he led. Now they were slogging through mud and battling a sudden attack of mosquitoes and no-seeums.
Pralax was having the time of his life!
A rather young Trill (only 223 standard years old), he was enjoying his new host body (his fourth) which was agile, strong and quick. His old host, Tyro, had finally succumbed to the ravages of age and too many harrowing experiences. Pralax, of course, still savored those old memories which he carried forward in his new symbiotic relationship with Grelden.
Pralax signaled for the group to stop for a short break. Most of the cadets collapsed to the ground with groans of misery and fatigue.
“Alright, group! Take five. Be sure to hydrate yourselves properly and check for blisters. Step lively, now!” He spoke with a distinct British accent, due to his time as a student at Oxford and his affinity for old Monty Python vids.
“Sir?” spoke a weary Ferengi cadet. “We’ve been on the move since sunrise. Could we have more time for rest?”
“More rest, Cadet Torg? What if the Federation Marines had wanted more rest on Cestron IV? What if the Berlean Resistance had wanted more rest when the Jem’Hadar landed on Ilkora? You’ll have all the time to rest when you’re dead, lad!” Before he could get into the spirit of a proper dressing-down, his commbadge beeped.
Annoyed, Pralax slapped the commbadge as if it were a troublesome insect. “Pralax here!”
“Commander, prepare for beam out. You are being re-assigned effective immeditately,” came the disembodied voice. “by order of Admiral Hendricks.”
Bloody hell! What’s all this about? he wondered. Aloud he said, “Acknowledged. Please give me a minute first.”
He surveyed the wide-eyed cadets, a muddy, bedraggled and sad looking lot, these. “Well lads and lasses, it seems I must leave our hike. Remember, to pass the course you must survive three more days before hiking out!”
“But sir!” protested a Bolian cadet. “What about food and water? You’ve got our supplies!”
“Yes! Quite right! But remember, this is a survival course. The object is for you to live off the land, isn’t it? Now, buck up and carry on!”
“Uh, sir? That’s actually later in the course. We were just supposed to be on a hike,” replied a sad looking Human.
“Well, the course just got accelerated, Cadet Johnson. Tell you what! If you get hungry enough – just eat McAllister there! He looks like he’s packing on enough to feed the lot of you for a fortnight!”
Cadet McAllister turned pale. Cadet Jumara protested. “But sir! It’s a violation of Federation law to . . . eat someone!”
Pralax smiled. “Ah, but that only applies to sentient beings, Cadet. And, thus far, none of you have convinced me to my satisfaction that you are, indeed, capable of holding a coherent thought!” He felt the familiar tingle of the transporter. “Well, then, I’m off – Cheerio and good luck!”
With that, Pralax disappeared, leaving the Cadets in stunned silence. Cadet Guaraldi turned toward McAllister, a feral gleam in his eye, and licked his lips.
“Hey! . . . Hey, HEY!” shouted McAllister. “That’s not funny, Gino!”
* * *
Osaka, Japan
13 February 2377, 2150 local time
Eye of the Moon Bar
Jesse Yeager entered the crowded bar and slowly moved through the throng of customers. He towered over most of the patrons who were predominantly of Asian ancestry. He made his way to the bar where a Ferengi was polishing a glass. Yeager pulled a large Cuban cigar out of his coat and bit off the end. Instantly, the Ferengi produced a large crystal lighter and offered the flame. Yeager lit the cigar, drawing in the aromatic smoke and smiling with pleasure. He nodded his head in thanks to the bartender.
“What will you have?” asked the Ferengi.
“Sapporo beer and a little information.”
The barkeep produced a brown bottle and popped off the top with his thumbnail. “Beer’s on the house – information . . . well that will cost you.” He leered, revealing rows of pointed teeth.
Yeager took a swallow of the beer. Impressed that it wasn’t watered down, he nodded in agreement and slid a quarter bar of gold-pressed latinum over to the Ferengi. “I’m looking for a friend . . .”
The barkeep nodded knowingly. “Aren’t we all!”
“ . . . who lives close by,” continued Yeager. “This is the kind of place that would appeal to his sensibilities.”
Again, the Ferengi nodded. “A cultured fellow.”
“No. He’s cheap and has no class.”
For a moment, the Ferengi glared at Yeager, then he smiled broadly and laughed out loud. “How have you been, Captain Yeager?”
“I’m getting by, Lorg. Have you seen Commander Tamura?”
“I think he’s been frequenting the Dabo tables. Try back there.”
“Thanks, Lorg!” Yeager raised his bottle in salute and began to move again through the crowded throng, holding his beer bottle aloft protectively.
The Eye of the Moon had several Dabo tables in the back. Though, technically illegal in Osaka, the local constabulary turned a blind eye to the operation. At the third table, Yeager spotted a Japanese man wearing dark glasses, a colorful Hawaiian shirt and dark slacks. His hair was long and he wore an excessive amount of jewelry on his wrists and around his neck. He was frowning over the Dabo wheel – obviously Tamura’s luck was not good this night. A buxom blond woman was looking over Tamura’s shoulder, showing impressive cleavage and an amazing amount of skin.
Yeager sidled up behind Tamura and discreetly pinched the Dabo girl on the ass.
With a squeal, the buxom blond slapped Tamura and stormed off, muttering obscenities. Tamura blinked, confused, and watched the retreating figure of the girl. Yeager took the now empty seat.
“Watch the wheel, not the girl,” said Yeager as he took another swallow of beer.
Tamura turned toward Yeager, startled. His face lit up in a big grin. He flipped his shades up on his head and hugged Yeager.
“Jess! What the frak are you doing here? I figured you were still playing mountain man in Idaho!”
“Are you gonna place a bet or not?” growled the dealer, a gray skinned Rigellian.
Tamura looked at the remains of his markers and grimaced. “Nah. I’m done here.” He picked up his remaining markers and absently shoved them in his pocket. Throwing an arm around Yeager’s shoulders, he led the captain toward an empty corner table.
“Seriously, Jess – what are you doing in Osaka?”
Yeager took a draw on his cigar and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “I came looking for you.”
Osamu Tamura’s expression became suddenly guarded. “I don’t owe you money . . . do I?”
Jesse emptied his beer bottle and signaled a waiter to bring two more. “Actually, you do. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“So . . . ?” Tamura made a “come on” gesture with his hands.
“You’re looking at the new CO of the USS Endurance.”
Tamura laughed. “You're kidding!” He peered at Yeager and his laughter died. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Nope! And I want you to come on board as first officer.”
Tamura leaned way back in his chair, shaking his head. “Hold on, Jess – I’m officially retired, resigned and out. O – U – T , out! I’ve been shot at enough for three life times and seen too many good friends die. I plan on dying in a bed with clean sheets from some exotic, sexually transmitted disease! There is no way in frakkin' Hades you could get me back on a starship.”
“We’re going to Andromeda.”
Tamura blinked. “Andromeda?”
Jesse nodded. The waiter set down two bottles of beer. The two men picked them up, clinked them together, and both took long pulls.
“The Andromeda? As in, the galaxy?” queried Tamura, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“You're shitting me!”
“I shit thee not.”
“Damn.” Tamura took another long pull on his beer, emptying the bottle. He looked back at Yeager. His expression was a mix of wonder and disbelief. Finally, he smiled.
“So, when do we leave?”
* * *
10 February 2377, 1347 local time
Office of Vice-Admiral John Hendricks
Chapter Four
For several minutes, no one spoke in Admiral Hendricks’ office. The only sound came from the ticking of an antique wall clock. Finally, Jesse broke the silence.
“K’Lanthra . . . forgive me, but – I don’t see how we can possibly help you. We very nearly lost to the Borg and are still recovering from the Dominion War. Why did you seek us out, anyway?”
The smile returned to the H’Lranthian’s face and the ethereal glow brightened. “Over 100 of your years ago, a race of beings from our galaxy set out on a mission of exploration and conquest. They spread out in great generation ships to cross the interstellar void. One of these ships came to your galaxy, but was all but destroyed by the energy barrier they encountered.
A memory clicked into place in Yeager’s mind. He nodded. “The Kelvan. I read about them while in the Academy. They attempted to take over the USS Enterprise under James Kirk.”
“Correct, Captain. The Kelvan are an aggressive species, yet your Captain Kirk prevailed over them with reason and compassion. Unfortunately, their home planet has succumbed to radiation poisoning and there are no Kelvan in our galaxy. I believe a small population does reside in this galaxy.”
Yeager nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
“The leader of the Kelvan, Rojan, and Captain Kirk sent a message back toward Andromeda, ferried on an unmanned Federation vessel. We recovered the vessel in the void and learned much of your Federation, your values, your character and your history. In many ways, we are very similar, Captain. We value life, liberty and the dignity of persons. But above all, you have shown remarkable resiliency. Your member races have overcome many obstacles – war, famine, natural disasters – and yet, you not only have survived, you have thrived.” She peered at him intently. “You persevere, Jesse Yeager. It is a quality I fear we have lost.”
Yeager grimaced in confusion. “Ma’am, I still don’t understand how that matters to you.”
“Above all, our people need to recover hope. But they need a concrete example. Your Federation exemplifies that which we have nearly lost. There is a chance . . . admittedly slim, that the leaders of the Dark might be persuaded to turn from despair and back to the light. I have requested that one of your ships accompany me back to the Andromeda galaxy. In return for your help, you will have ample opportunity to explore space that has been beyond your reach.”
Yeager looked at Admiral Hendricks. “Admiral? Why am I here? Of all people to command such a mission, I’m probably least qualified!”
Before the Admiral could answer, K’Lanthra spoke. “No, Jesse Yeager. Of all people, you are best qualified to lead this mission. You have faced the darkness – are still facing it. But you will endure.”
Yeager narrowed his eyes. “How can you know that? . . . know me?” he retorted, coldly.
“I know,” she said, with confidence and serenity.
Yeager maintained his cold stare for several moments. “And what if these leaders of the Dark, don’t listen? What happens to us then, K’Lanthra?”
She hesitated. “No one can say what the future holds.”
Yeager knew she was lying, but said nothing else.
* * *
Amazon River Basin
12 February 2377, 1003 local time
Deep in the rain forest
Lt. Commander Grelden Pralax was grinning a bit more than the situation warranted. The jungle heat and humidity were oppressive. The thick vegetation made headway difficult, and, on top of that, a sudden downpour had soaked the Trill Starfleet officer and the dozen cadets he led. Now they were slogging through mud and battling a sudden attack of mosquitoes and no-seeums.
Pralax was having the time of his life!
A rather young Trill (only 223 standard years old), he was enjoying his new host body (his fourth) which was agile, strong and quick. His old host, Tyro, had finally succumbed to the ravages of age and too many harrowing experiences. Pralax, of course, still savored those old memories which he carried forward in his new symbiotic relationship with Grelden.
Pralax signaled for the group to stop for a short break. Most of the cadets collapsed to the ground with groans of misery and fatigue.
“Alright, group! Take five. Be sure to hydrate yourselves properly and check for blisters. Step lively, now!” He spoke with a distinct British accent, due to his time as a student at Oxford and his affinity for old Monty Python vids.
“Sir?” spoke a weary Ferengi cadet. “We’ve been on the move since sunrise. Could we have more time for rest?”
“More rest, Cadet Torg? What if the Federation Marines had wanted more rest on Cestron IV? What if the Berlean Resistance had wanted more rest when the Jem’Hadar landed on Ilkora? You’ll have all the time to rest when you’re dead, lad!” Before he could get into the spirit of a proper dressing-down, his commbadge beeped.
Annoyed, Pralax slapped the commbadge as if it were a troublesome insect. “Pralax here!”
“Commander, prepare for beam out. You are being re-assigned effective immeditately,” came the disembodied voice. “by order of Admiral Hendricks.”
Bloody hell! What’s all this about? he wondered. Aloud he said, “Acknowledged. Please give me a minute first.”
He surveyed the wide-eyed cadets, a muddy, bedraggled and sad looking lot, these. “Well lads and lasses, it seems I must leave our hike. Remember, to pass the course you must survive three more days before hiking out!”
“But sir!” protested a Bolian cadet. “What about food and water? You’ve got our supplies!”
“Yes! Quite right! But remember, this is a survival course. The object is for you to live off the land, isn’t it? Now, buck up and carry on!”
“Uh, sir? That’s actually later in the course. We were just supposed to be on a hike,” replied a sad looking Human.
“Well, the course just got accelerated, Cadet Johnson. Tell you what! If you get hungry enough – just eat McAllister there! He looks like he’s packing on enough to feed the lot of you for a fortnight!”
Cadet McAllister turned pale. Cadet Jumara protested. “But sir! It’s a violation of Federation law to . . . eat someone!”
Pralax smiled. “Ah, but that only applies to sentient beings, Cadet. And, thus far, none of you have convinced me to my satisfaction that you are, indeed, capable of holding a coherent thought!” He felt the familiar tingle of the transporter. “Well, then, I’m off – Cheerio and good luck!”
With that, Pralax disappeared, leaving the Cadets in stunned silence. Cadet Guaraldi turned toward McAllister, a feral gleam in his eye, and licked his lips.
“Hey! . . . Hey, HEY!” shouted McAllister. “That’s not funny, Gino!”
* * *
Osaka, Japan
13 February 2377, 2150 local time
Eye of the Moon Bar
Jesse Yeager entered the crowded bar and slowly moved through the throng of customers. He towered over most of the patrons who were predominantly of Asian ancestry. He made his way to the bar where a Ferengi was polishing a glass. Yeager pulled a large Cuban cigar out of his coat and bit off the end. Instantly, the Ferengi produced a large crystal lighter and offered the flame. Yeager lit the cigar, drawing in the aromatic smoke and smiling with pleasure. He nodded his head in thanks to the bartender.
“What will you have?” asked the Ferengi.
“Sapporo beer and a little information.”
The barkeep produced a brown bottle and popped off the top with his thumbnail. “Beer’s on the house – information . . . well that will cost you.” He leered, revealing rows of pointed teeth.
Yeager took a swallow of the beer. Impressed that it wasn’t watered down, he nodded in agreement and slid a quarter bar of gold-pressed latinum over to the Ferengi. “I’m looking for a friend . . .”
The barkeep nodded knowingly. “Aren’t we all!”
“ . . . who lives close by,” continued Yeager. “This is the kind of place that would appeal to his sensibilities.”
Again, the Ferengi nodded. “A cultured fellow.”
“No. He’s cheap and has no class.”
For a moment, the Ferengi glared at Yeager, then he smiled broadly and laughed out loud. “How have you been, Captain Yeager?”
“I’m getting by, Lorg. Have you seen Commander Tamura?”
“I think he’s been frequenting the Dabo tables. Try back there.”
“Thanks, Lorg!” Yeager raised his bottle in salute and began to move again through the crowded throng, holding his beer bottle aloft protectively.
The Eye of the Moon had several Dabo tables in the back. Though, technically illegal in Osaka, the local constabulary turned a blind eye to the operation. At the third table, Yeager spotted a Japanese man wearing dark glasses, a colorful Hawaiian shirt and dark slacks. His hair was long and he wore an excessive amount of jewelry on his wrists and around his neck. He was frowning over the Dabo wheel – obviously Tamura’s luck was not good this night. A buxom blond woman was looking over Tamura’s shoulder, showing impressive cleavage and an amazing amount of skin.
Yeager sidled up behind Tamura and discreetly pinched the Dabo girl on the ass.
With a squeal, the buxom blond slapped Tamura and stormed off, muttering obscenities. Tamura blinked, confused, and watched the retreating figure of the girl. Yeager took the now empty seat.
“Watch the wheel, not the girl,” said Yeager as he took another swallow of beer.
Tamura turned toward Yeager, startled. His face lit up in a big grin. He flipped his shades up on his head and hugged Yeager.
“Jess! What the frak are you doing here? I figured you were still playing mountain man in Idaho!”
“Are you gonna place a bet or not?” growled the dealer, a gray skinned Rigellian.
Tamura looked at the remains of his markers and grimaced. “Nah. I’m done here.” He picked up his remaining markers and absently shoved them in his pocket. Throwing an arm around Yeager’s shoulders, he led the captain toward an empty corner table.
“Seriously, Jess – what are you doing in Osaka?”
Yeager took a draw on his cigar and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “I came looking for you.”
Osamu Tamura’s expression became suddenly guarded. “I don’t owe you money . . . do I?”
Jesse emptied his beer bottle and signaled a waiter to bring two more. “Actually, you do. But that’s not why I’m here.”
“So . . . ?” Tamura made a “come on” gesture with his hands.
“You’re looking at the new CO of the USS Endurance.”
Tamura laughed. “You're kidding!” He peered at Yeager and his laughter died. “You’re not kidding, are you?”
“Nope! And I want you to come on board as first officer.”
Tamura leaned way back in his chair, shaking his head. “Hold on, Jess – I’m officially retired, resigned and out. O – U – T , out! I’ve been shot at enough for three life times and seen too many good friends die. I plan on dying in a bed with clean sheets from some exotic, sexually transmitted disease! There is no way in frakkin' Hades you could get me back on a starship.”
“We’re going to Andromeda.”
Tamura blinked. “Andromeda?”
Jesse nodded. The waiter set down two bottles of beer. The two men picked them up, clinked them together, and both took long pulls.
“The Andromeda? As in, the galaxy?” queried Tamura, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“You're shitting me!”
“I shit thee not.”
“Damn.” Tamura took another long pull on his beer, emptying the bottle. He looked back at Yeager. His expression was a mix of wonder and disbelief. Finally, he smiled.
“So, when do we leave?”
* * *
I like this crew! It's got everything you could ask for--a Trill who's into Monty Python, a first officer who'd rather be playing Dabo while simultaneously fondling a buxom blonde, and a captain who smokes Cuban cigars--and they're going to the Andromeda galaxy!
Seriously, you're spinning a good yarn here Redshirt. I like the concept of a powerful alien race faced with the existential crisis of losing hope. While I'm sure there's going to be plenty of light moments here, this story has the potential of dealing with some interesting philosophical and spiritual themes.
Seriously, you're spinning a good yarn here Redshirt. I like the concept of a powerful alien race faced with the existential crisis of losing hope. While I'm sure there's going to be plenty of light moments here, this story has the potential of dealing with some interesting philosophical and spiritual themes.
Yeah, not a whole lot of backup that far out... so Endurance better not be counting on the Bluefin coming to rescue their butts!You really could write well for Tom Selleck. The tone of this is a nice mix of western and sci-fi; not an easy mix, but you do it well. A whole other galaxy for five years...yeap, that's an adventure.
Very interesting crew you've got here. You really got something going here.
I was a bit surprised by the general tone and dialog though as I would have expected a stronger distinction between your rough Border Dogs and the supposedly much cleaner regular fleet. I don't mind the trend of infusing Trek with some more lively and modern language.
Good stuff and looking forward to more.
I was a bit surprised by the general tone and dialog though as I would have expected a stronger distinction between your rough Border Dogs and the supposedly much cleaner regular fleet. I don't mind the trend of infusing Trek with some more lively and modern language.
Good stuff and looking forward to more.
I've never bought into the ultra-sterile, uptight atmosphere that was portrayed on the Enterprise of TNG. I think every ship has a personality, much of it derived from her captain (ask Elizabeth Shelby
).Remember, you've yet to see Yeager in uniform. Hopefully, he'll show a bit more decorum on duty.
Or not.
Glad you all are enjoying this so far. We still have a ship to board and more crew members to meet. Gibraltar makes a good observation - Endurance will be on her own. No backup, no familiar races, no starbases, etc. Their lives will be in the hands of K'Lnthra and other H'lranthians. Is that wise?
Hmmmm. Stay tuned . . .
I'm looking forward to more...is that parrot dead?
The Dauntless could help you out, if she went back in time. But at least I now have a destination for a later story, thanks
The Dauntless could help you out, if she went back in time. But at least I now have a destination for a later story, thanks
And now for something completely different...
ALBATROSS!
ALBATROSS!
Chapter Five
LaGrange Point Five - Earth Orbit
25 February 2377, 0835 local time
Workbee 10029
Command Master Chief Brandon Jones guided the small workbee past several spacedock berths before approaching their destination - spacedock 67. Captain Yeager and Commander Tamura both craned their necks to get their first glimpse of their new ship, the Endurance.
CMCPO Jones, a thirty year Starfleet veteran, was an impressive figure. With his dark skin, shaved head and muscular build he looked like a recruiting poster holo of a squared-away drill instructor (which, in fact, he had been for four years). He caught the eager expression of the two officers reflected in the transparent aluminum viewport and smiled. Captain Yeager and Commander Tamura both craned their necks to get their first glimpse of their newhome for the next five years . Jones was also amused with the third officer in the pod. Mr. Pralax, the new Chief of Security/Tactical Officer, was sound asleep in the back of the workbee, head thrown back, mouth open and snoring loudly.
Now there's a man who knows how to conserve energy! Jones thought. He tapped the steering controls and the workbee began a slow, spiralling turn to bring them in behind the massive starship to begin the traditional Captain's inspection.
"Pralax! Wake up! You're missing the show!" chided Tamura.
Pralax snorted and his eyes flickered open. He yawned and rubbed his face. "Are we there, yet?"
Yeager moved up by Jones. "Boats, I hope you'll forgive Commander Pralax's lack of enthusiasm. We do appreciate the tour."
Jones grinned. "That's all right, sir. I understand you're just officers."
Yeager's eyebrows went up in surprise, then he grinned. "Well, at least we understand who really runs things, don't we, Boats?"
"Frakkin' A, sir," said Jones. Yeager patted the Chief's massive shoulder.
"Carry on with the tour, Boats," said Yeager.
* * *
Having completed several orbits of the ship to Yeager's satisfaction, Jones guided the workbee into the massive landing bay of the Endurance. Yeager saw a waiting honor guard and a group of officers waiting.
The 'bee settled gently onto the deck, its engines winding down in a humming sigh. Yeager opened the hatch and stepped out to the high-pitched sound of a bosun's whistle. He moved forward toward an attractive Vulcan female with Lt. Commander's pips on her collar. Her hair was chestnut brown and her eyes ice blue - rare for her race. Her demeanor was all Vulcan, however.
"Permission to come aboard?" queried Yeager in an age-old ritual.
"Granted. Welcome aboard the Endurance, Captain Yeager." Her alto voice was pleasant and business-like. Her expression, serene and controlled. "I am T'Vel, Second Officer and Chief of the Science Division."
Yeager introduced Tamura and Pralax, then read his orders and completed the transfer of command.
"Mr. T'Vel, has our 'guest' arrived?"
T'Vel inclined her head. "Protector K'Lnthra is aboard and in the VIP suite."
"How about my Sun-skipper and Max?"
At this, a hint of distaste flashed across T'Vel's face, then quickly disappeared. "Your solar sailboat has been secured in storage area 12 here on the hangar deck. As to your . . . dog," again, that pained expression, "he is in your quarters. We had to erect a containment field to secure him."
Yeager's eyebrows rose. "Oh? I hope he didn't cause any problem."
"We have a crew attempting to clean the carpet on deck four. Also, he managed to eat an EPS access panel cover after he drug Crewman Francia approximately 70 meters. A team is repairing the panel as we speak."
Yeager smiled. "Ah well. I suppose he's feeling neglected. I have a great holodeck program for him, though. He loves it! Lots of trees and fire hydrants."
T'Vel's nostril twitched, but she did not comment. "With your permission, I will return to my duties on the bridge."
"Thank you, Commander. I'll catch up with you later." He turned to Tamura and Pralax. "You two go ahead and get squared away in your quarters. Osamu, I want you to set up a meeting with the department heads in the conference room at 1300 hours. Then we can all get acquainted with the senior officers. I'll see that K'Lnthra attends."
* * *
Yeager made his way to his quarters and entered. The three-room suite was more spacious than his Idaho cabin. He looked around a moment, hands on hips, surveying his expansive quarters with a bemused expression on his face then shrugged. He moved toward the shimmering containment field where Max was vigorously wagging his tail.
"There's my Max! Have you been a bad boy? No, no, no, Max is a good boy, yes he is!" The huge yellow lab reared up on his legs and lavished Yeager with wet doggie kisses, tail swishing madly. Jesse ruffled the fur of his canine friend, then said, "Okay, Max. Get in your bed."
Immediately, the Lab trotted to a large dog bed, circled twice, then flounced down. His moist eyes followed Yeager with open worship.
Yeager moved to three storage cases that held his personal possession. He rummaged around until he found some of his essentials - his cigar humidor with silver knife and lighter, several holo-pics of Yvonne, his father, and, of course, Max, and finally, his mother's dream catcher. He could deal with the other stuff later.
He opened the humidor and withdrew one of his prize Robusto cigars. He used the guillotine cutter to snip off the end. Before lighting, he paused.
"Computer, override smoke sensors - disregard tobacco smoke in my cabin, authorization Yeager Alpha 24427."
Warning - tobacco is a known carcinogen . . . do you still wish to continue override?
"I do, computer, and thank you for your concern." He picked up the silver lighter, a gift from his late grandfather, and carefully ignited the cigar. He would suffer through the biannual nanite cleaning of his lungs - a small price to pay to enjoy his cigars and avoid lung disease. He sat at his desk and was about to activate his computer terminal when the door annunciator chimed.
"Come in!" he said around the cigar.
The door slid open and a Betazoid lieutenant entered. A cute, petite woman, with the typical large, dark eyes and short dark hair, she stopped upon seeing the cigar. A small smile formed on her lips.
"I heard that you were cavalier with your health, Captain," she said.
Yeager exhaled a plume of fragrant smoke. "Ah, but cigars are wonderful for one's mental health. I guess I should be grateful that you're not berating me for drinking to excess." He stood and grinned. "I take it that you're Counselor Shain?"
Benessa Shain's smile grew wider. "Guilty. I just wanted to stop by and say, 'Hello' and 'Welcome aboard.' Perhaps we could have a chat once we're underway?"
Yeager took the cigar from his mouth. "Counselor Torella has spoken to you, I take it?" He referred to the Chief Counselor at Starfleet Medical who had worked with him during his months in the hospital.
Shain bowed her head slightly. "He did suggest that I get you on my schedule ASAP."
Yeager nodded. He was certain that Torella never suggested anything. If he had contacted Shain directly, it was more likely an edict from God carved on stone tablets.
"How on Earth did someone like Torella make it as Chief Counselor for Starfleet?" asked Yeager, conversationally. "The man has the bedside manner of a drunken Klingon. Honestly, I was tempted to kill the man on several occasions. Unfortunately, I didn't have any sharp objects nearby."
Counselor Shain nodded knowingly. "Two reasons I know of, sir. One, he gets results. Two, he's not intimidated by hard asses."
Yeager raised an eyebrow. "Neither are you, I take it?"
She shook her head, still smiling. "Not a bit sir. That's how I got this billet."
* * *
USS Endurance
25 February 2377, 1300 local time
Spacedock 67
Captain Yeager entered the conference room promptly at 1300 hours. The gathered officers all stood as he entered.
"Be seated, please," he said as he took his place at the head of the long table. He glanced over at Commander Tamura who surreptitiously winked. Yeager stifled a smirk.
“Let’s get introductions out of the way, first. Hopefully, you know who I am . . .,” there were polite chuckles around the table, “ . . . but I have not had the opportunity of meeting most of you. We’ve got two weeks to get better acquainted before we launch. Commander Tamura? Why don’t you get things rolling and introduce yourself.”
The Japanese officer nodded. “Osamu Tamura, First Officer.”
A handsome woman with wavy black hair in her late 50’s wearing a blue lab coat and commander’s pips spoke next. “Lori Menendez, Chief Medical Officer.”
The Counselor, seated next to Dr. Menendez, spoke up. “Benessa Shain, ship’s Counsellor.”
“Lt. Commander, T’Vel, Chief Science Officer and Second Officer.”
“Hello, all! Grelden Pralax, here! Very pleased to meet you all!” Yeager made an “and?” gesture. “Oh, right! Chief of Security and Tactical Officer.”
“Gormun,” said a laconic Tellarite, who eyed Pralax with annoyance. “Operations.”
A stocky man with closely shorn grey hair spoke with a deep, rumbling voice. “Gunther Klepp, Chief Engineer.”
Yeager gestured to the shimmering H’lranthian seated at the opposite end of the table. “Most of you have met K’Lnthra by now. As you know, she is both the reason and the means for our trip to Andromeda. You’ve been briefed already regarding our mission parameters, but to recap: We will journey to the Andromeda galaxy, K’Lnthra will serve as our liason with the H’lanthrians and our guide as we explore and travel through her galaxy. And, we will attempt to make contact with the Dark H’lranthians. Obviously, that will be the critical part of our mission.” He paused and looked meaningfully at K’Lnthra. “K’Lnthra believes that we can stop a terrible wave of death and destruction before it begins. To be honest, I’m not sure how that will happen. The H’lranthians are far advanced to us in many ways, yet they’re seeking our assistance. Whatever may come, I expect us to do our utmost not to disappoint them. Questions?”
Commander Klepp raised his hand. “Sir, to be candid, we have no idea how we are going to make such a journey. With our current technology, it would take us centuries to make the trip.” He gestured to K’Lnthra. “Are we to blindly trust this person who claims to be from another galaxy? I, for one, do not relish turning this ship over to her control.”
Yeager nodded. “A reasonable question, Mr. Klepp. Suffice it to say that Starfleet Command took the better part of a year in deciding to proceed with this mission and vetting K’Lnthra. I will say that if any of you have a major problem with either K’Lnthra or this mission, let me know now and I’ll have you replaced. No hard feelings, but you’re either in all the way or you need to stay home. It’s too far to walk back.”
Klepp’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing further. Yeager looked around the table. “Other questions?”
Pralax raised a hand. “What are our rules of engagement, sir? Does General Order One still apply?”
Yeager nodded. “Yes, the Prime Directive is still in effect. The H’lranthians will introduce us to some of the other races in the Andromeda galaxy with warp capability. We can also discreetly observe other pre-warp civilizations. That part of the mission will be just like exploring uncharted space in our own galaxy.”
Dr. Menendez spoke up. “How long will it take us to get to Andromeda?”
Yeager gestured to K’Lnthra. She smiled and her golden eyes seemed to glow brighter. “Less time than it took you to ask the question, Doctor.”
* * *
LaGrange Point Five - Earth Orbit
25 February 2377, 0835 local time
Workbee 10029
Command Master Chief Brandon Jones guided the small workbee past several spacedock berths before approaching their destination - spacedock 67. Captain Yeager and Commander Tamura both craned their necks to get their first glimpse of their new ship, the Endurance.
CMCPO Jones, a thirty year Starfleet veteran, was an impressive figure. With his dark skin, shaved head and muscular build he looked like a recruiting poster holo of a squared-away drill instructor (which, in fact, he had been for four years). He caught the eager expression of the two officers reflected in the transparent aluminum viewport and smiled. Captain Yeager and Commander Tamura both craned their necks to get their first glimpse of their newhome for the next five years . Jones was also amused with the third officer in the pod. Mr. Pralax, the new Chief of Security/Tactical Officer, was sound asleep in the back of the workbee, head thrown back, mouth open and snoring loudly.
Now there's a man who knows how to conserve energy! Jones thought. He tapped the steering controls and the workbee began a slow, spiralling turn to bring them in behind the massive starship to begin the traditional Captain's inspection.
"Pralax! Wake up! You're missing the show!" chided Tamura.
Pralax snorted and his eyes flickered open. He yawned and rubbed his face. "Are we there, yet?"
Yeager moved up by Jones. "Boats, I hope you'll forgive Commander Pralax's lack of enthusiasm. We do appreciate the tour."
Jones grinned. "That's all right, sir. I understand you're just officers."
Yeager's eyebrows went up in surprise, then he grinned. "Well, at least we understand who really runs things, don't we, Boats?"
"Frakkin' A, sir," said Jones. Yeager patted the Chief's massive shoulder.
"Carry on with the tour, Boats," said Yeager.
* * *
Having completed several orbits of the ship to Yeager's satisfaction, Jones guided the workbee into the massive landing bay of the Endurance. Yeager saw a waiting honor guard and a group of officers waiting.
The 'bee settled gently onto the deck, its engines winding down in a humming sigh. Yeager opened the hatch and stepped out to the high-pitched sound of a bosun's whistle. He moved forward toward an attractive Vulcan female with Lt. Commander's pips on her collar. Her hair was chestnut brown and her eyes ice blue - rare for her race. Her demeanor was all Vulcan, however.
"Permission to come aboard?" queried Yeager in an age-old ritual.
"Granted. Welcome aboard the Endurance, Captain Yeager." Her alto voice was pleasant and business-like. Her expression, serene and controlled. "I am T'Vel, Second Officer and Chief of the Science Division."
Yeager introduced Tamura and Pralax, then read his orders and completed the transfer of command.
"Mr. T'Vel, has our 'guest' arrived?"
T'Vel inclined her head. "Protector K'Lnthra is aboard and in the VIP suite."
"How about my Sun-skipper and Max?"
At this, a hint of distaste flashed across T'Vel's face, then quickly disappeared. "Your solar sailboat has been secured in storage area 12 here on the hangar deck. As to your . . . dog," again, that pained expression, "he is in your quarters. We had to erect a containment field to secure him."
Yeager's eyebrows rose. "Oh? I hope he didn't cause any problem."
"We have a crew attempting to clean the carpet on deck four. Also, he managed to eat an EPS access panel cover after he drug Crewman Francia approximately 70 meters. A team is repairing the panel as we speak."
Yeager smiled. "Ah well. I suppose he's feeling neglected. I have a great holodeck program for him, though. He loves it! Lots of trees and fire hydrants."
T'Vel's nostril twitched, but she did not comment. "With your permission, I will return to my duties on the bridge."
"Thank you, Commander. I'll catch up with you later." He turned to Tamura and Pralax. "You two go ahead and get squared away in your quarters. Osamu, I want you to set up a meeting with the department heads in the conference room at 1300 hours. Then we can all get acquainted with the senior officers. I'll see that K'Lnthra attends."
* * *
Yeager made his way to his quarters and entered. The three-room suite was more spacious than his Idaho cabin. He looked around a moment, hands on hips, surveying his expansive quarters with a bemused expression on his face then shrugged. He moved toward the shimmering containment field where Max was vigorously wagging his tail.
"There's my Max! Have you been a bad boy? No, no, no, Max is a good boy, yes he is!" The huge yellow lab reared up on his legs and lavished Yeager with wet doggie kisses, tail swishing madly. Jesse ruffled the fur of his canine friend, then said, "Okay, Max. Get in your bed."
Immediately, the Lab trotted to a large dog bed, circled twice, then flounced down. His moist eyes followed Yeager with open worship.
Yeager moved to three storage cases that held his personal possession. He rummaged around until he found some of his essentials - his cigar humidor with silver knife and lighter, several holo-pics of Yvonne, his father, and, of course, Max, and finally, his mother's dream catcher. He could deal with the other stuff later.
He opened the humidor and withdrew one of his prize Robusto cigars. He used the guillotine cutter to snip off the end. Before lighting, he paused.
"Computer, override smoke sensors - disregard tobacco smoke in my cabin, authorization Yeager Alpha 24427."
Warning - tobacco is a known carcinogen . . . do you still wish to continue override?
"I do, computer, and thank you for your concern." He picked up the silver lighter, a gift from his late grandfather, and carefully ignited the cigar. He would suffer through the biannual nanite cleaning of his lungs - a small price to pay to enjoy his cigars and avoid lung disease. He sat at his desk and was about to activate his computer terminal when the door annunciator chimed.
"Come in!" he said around the cigar.
The door slid open and a Betazoid lieutenant entered. A cute, petite woman, with the typical large, dark eyes and short dark hair, she stopped upon seeing the cigar. A small smile formed on her lips.
"I heard that you were cavalier with your health, Captain," she said.
Yeager exhaled a plume of fragrant smoke. "Ah, but cigars are wonderful for one's mental health. I guess I should be grateful that you're not berating me for drinking to excess." He stood and grinned. "I take it that you're Counselor Shain?"
Benessa Shain's smile grew wider. "Guilty. I just wanted to stop by and say, 'Hello' and 'Welcome aboard.' Perhaps we could have a chat once we're underway?"
Yeager took the cigar from his mouth. "Counselor Torella has spoken to you, I take it?" He referred to the Chief Counselor at Starfleet Medical who had worked with him during his months in the hospital.
Shain bowed her head slightly. "He did suggest that I get you on my schedule ASAP."
Yeager nodded. He was certain that Torella never suggested anything. If he had contacted Shain directly, it was more likely an edict from God carved on stone tablets.
"How on Earth did someone like Torella make it as Chief Counselor for Starfleet?" asked Yeager, conversationally. "The man has the bedside manner of a drunken Klingon. Honestly, I was tempted to kill the man on several occasions. Unfortunately, I didn't have any sharp objects nearby."
Counselor Shain nodded knowingly. "Two reasons I know of, sir. One, he gets results. Two, he's not intimidated by hard asses."
Yeager raised an eyebrow. "Neither are you, I take it?"
She shook her head, still smiling. "Not a bit sir. That's how I got this billet."
* * *
USS Endurance
25 February 2377, 1300 local time
Spacedock 67
Captain Yeager entered the conference room promptly at 1300 hours. The gathered officers all stood as he entered.
"Be seated, please," he said as he took his place at the head of the long table. He glanced over at Commander Tamura who surreptitiously winked. Yeager stifled a smirk.
“Let’s get introductions out of the way, first. Hopefully, you know who I am . . .,” there were polite chuckles around the table, “ . . . but I have not had the opportunity of meeting most of you. We’ve got two weeks to get better acquainted before we launch. Commander Tamura? Why don’t you get things rolling and introduce yourself.”
The Japanese officer nodded. “Osamu Tamura, First Officer.”
A handsome woman with wavy black hair in her late 50’s wearing a blue lab coat and commander’s pips spoke next. “Lori Menendez, Chief Medical Officer.”
The Counselor, seated next to Dr. Menendez, spoke up. “Benessa Shain, ship’s Counsellor.”
“Lt. Commander, T’Vel, Chief Science Officer and Second Officer.”
“Hello, all! Grelden Pralax, here! Very pleased to meet you all!” Yeager made an “and?” gesture. “Oh, right! Chief of Security and Tactical Officer.”
“Gormun,” said a laconic Tellarite, who eyed Pralax with annoyance. “Operations.”
A stocky man with closely shorn grey hair spoke with a deep, rumbling voice. “Gunther Klepp, Chief Engineer.”
Yeager gestured to the shimmering H’lranthian seated at the opposite end of the table. “Most of you have met K’Lnthra by now. As you know, she is both the reason and the means for our trip to Andromeda. You’ve been briefed already regarding our mission parameters, but to recap: We will journey to the Andromeda galaxy, K’Lnthra will serve as our liason with the H’lanthrians and our guide as we explore and travel through her galaxy. And, we will attempt to make contact with the Dark H’lranthians. Obviously, that will be the critical part of our mission.” He paused and looked meaningfully at K’Lnthra. “K’Lnthra believes that we can stop a terrible wave of death and destruction before it begins. To be honest, I’m not sure how that will happen. The H’lranthians are far advanced to us in many ways, yet they’re seeking our assistance. Whatever may come, I expect us to do our utmost not to disappoint them. Questions?”
Commander Klepp raised his hand. “Sir, to be candid, we have no idea how we are going to make such a journey. With our current technology, it would take us centuries to make the trip.” He gestured to K’Lnthra. “Are we to blindly trust this person who claims to be from another galaxy? I, for one, do not relish turning this ship over to her control.”
Yeager nodded. “A reasonable question, Mr. Klepp. Suffice it to say that Starfleet Command took the better part of a year in deciding to proceed with this mission and vetting K’Lnthra. I will say that if any of you have a major problem with either K’Lnthra or this mission, let me know now and I’ll have you replaced. No hard feelings, but you’re either in all the way or you need to stay home. It’s too far to walk back.”
Klepp’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing further. Yeager looked around the table. “Other questions?”
Pralax raised a hand. “What are our rules of engagement, sir? Does General Order One still apply?”
Yeager nodded. “Yes, the Prime Directive is still in effect. The H’lranthians will introduce us to some of the other races in the Andromeda galaxy with warp capability. We can also discreetly observe other pre-warp civilizations. That part of the mission will be just like exploring uncharted space in our own galaxy.”
Dr. Menendez spoke up. “How long will it take us to get to Andromeda?”
Yeager gestured to K’Lnthra. She smiled and her golden eyes seemed to glow brighter. “Less time than it took you to ask the question, Doctor.”
* * *
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Excellent chapter, introducing us to this new crew of yours.
I have to admit when you first mention a pleasant female Vulcan officer I was hoping, against hope to see T'Ser. Nah, I'm not disappointed. The guys looks like good people, or maybe not so good, either way it'll be fun.
And, oh yeah, Vulcans and dogs don't work well together, do they?
I have to admit when you first mention a pleasant female Vulcan officer I was hoping, against hope to see T'Ser. Nah, I'm not disappointed. The guys looks like good people, or maybe not so good, either way it'll be fun.
And, oh yeah, Vulcans and dogs don't work well together, do they?
