Other Shorts

       These brief scenes were written mainly to keep the gears greased between writing bouts on bigger projects. The funny thing about writing, but the more you do it, the easier it is to do. I decided that if I could put little efforts into one to three page stand alone pieces that I would keep the creative juices flowing for the longer stories. So far it is working.
       These are the shorts that don't really fit into anywhere else, or I don't have enough to make a "series" out of them.

 
 
 
 

At the Forks
Who Watches?
Insert this Scene
The Last Unknown
Choices
Travelin' Blues
Archeology

 
 

At the Forks

       "He is not one of them."
       "And you are sure of this Carlos?"
       "Yes, as certain as one can get. Bardo didn't even twitch in his presence. His hatred of other immortals is well established."
       "Yes, one of the most superstitious, and destructive."
       "Indeed. However, the question remains, what is Jerold LaSaille? His ability to withstand extraordinary damage has been noted."
       "He is at his farm?"
       "Yes. And we are certain he is the same man as the American soldier wounded at Hue, and the "Ghost that Walks" from the Eugenic wars."
       "But he is not one of them?"
       "No. They are unaware of him, and unable to notice him as different, or like themselves."
       Tamerlain bounced lightly on the ball his feet. "A mystery man then. Something new."
       Carlos frowned. "Yes, something new."
       "Now Carlos", chided Tamerlain, "Something new invigorates the blood. It amuses the mind. New things keep us alive."
       "I don't like it."
       "What are you going to do old friend. Tell this LaSaille that he cannot exist? 'I am sorry senor, but as you cannot be, you must cease living at once.'?"
       Carlos shot his mentor a sour look. "I do not possess your élan. I am bothered by this man."
       "Always you have been the dark one. Why does one immortal bother you more than the rest?"
       "Did I say he bothered me more? I am troubled by all of them Master Tamerlain. They are neither people of good character nor superior virtue. They have among them more blackguards than is average for humanity. Many, on learning of this special state treat their fellow man as a higher animal, suitable only for servants, or cattle. No, they all trouble me. Why are these men gifted with eternal life, and greater, kinder, folk must die?"
       "You are assuming that this is a gift, Carlos. Search the records and you will find many that have come to see their particular state as a curse from God."
       "It is a particular curse indeed in that case. That God would grant the wish of every man to those that least deserve it."
       "There is a reason we do not judge Carlos."
       Carlos sighed deeply. "Why do we watch if we refuse to place tools in our hands?"
       "Our Charter is but to watch."
       "Why?" Carlos spun around. "Why are we watching and for whom? For what purpose are we even so engaged?"
       "When the time comes we will know."
       "Aways we gather knowledge, and sit on it. Knowledge without action is wasteful."
       "Action without knowledge is foolish."
       "We have knowledge."
       "Yes, and that is why we do not act. One cannot become involved, and be uninvolved. You have been taught this."
       "I do not wish to be uninvolved."
       "You will fail."
       "Not this time."
       "All who have tried have failed."
       "Then we come to the fork in the road Master Tamerlain. I bid you adieu." Carlos bowed briefly and left.
       Tamerlain stood motionless as the heavy oak door closed behind Carlos. He remained so for many minutes.

---

       AP -- Jackson County, Michigan, USA -- Local authorities have reported finding the body of a middle aged man beheaded on a rural road five miles from Jackson City. The body of Carsen Bardo, late of New York, was found in a ditch beside his vandalized auto. Police are seeking anyone that might have information leading to the arrest....

---

       Carlos Geureva sat hyperventilating in his cheap hotel room. Tears stained his cheeks and he shook with fear and rage. Once again he slashed his wrist with the knife. Once again he watched the wound close before his eyes.
 
 
At the Forks --Garry Stahl, January 2006

 
 
       This is based on Jay P. Hailey's description of the Immortals and the Watchers. It is somewhat a Highlander crossover Trekized for your enjoyment. Timing would be somewhere in the 2020s.

 
 
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Who Watches?

       Master Tamerlain laughed. He laughed loud and long until tears rolled down his cheeks and he sat weak in his chair. At long last he pulled himself together before his startled agent. "Telepathic... Sentient and telepathic. Oh Donald it is so rich. Right under our noses the whole time. We the vaunted Watchers, and they have been watching us."
       "Master Tamerlain, how would they be watching us?"
       "Sit man sit, but first get us both some of the brandy. Are we assuming that they have remained within the cloister of the Savanna?"
       "You have taught Master than we should not assume our own motivations are those of others."
       "Yes, you are right. We should not assume. What were you able to learn?"
       "The rumors are true, at the most basic level. The natives called Ansisi are telepaths. And the antelopes they call 'The Watchers of the Gods are as well.'"
       "How were you able to learn this?"
       "One of them saved my life Master. He lead the leopard away as if it was on a leash."
       "And how did you come to be threated by a leopard?"
       Donald rubbed his leg. "I was leaving the village, and I hit a warthog borrow. I flipped the jeep and was injured rather badly. It all in my report." The Ane, they call them, one Talban by name led the stalking leopard away and approached my jeep. I think I startled him with my mind touch. He told me help was on the way and stayed with me until the Ansisi party arrived."
       "I thought we had lost you, Donald."
       "They are not well connected with the outside world. One phone for the whole village, a few solar panels. But yes, I was healed by the Ane. If not for their intervention I would still be there, healing at best, dead most likely."
       Tamerlain shook his head and chuckled. "All this time we have sought the aliens among the stars and they are right here."
       **Do you find this disquieting Master Tamerlain?**
       "Who? What?" Tamerlain looked about for the voice.
       Talban dropped his illusion. **Me, of course.**
       Donald jumped in quickly. "I brought him with me Master. They have a flair for drama."
       Tamerlain sat back. "I, see."
       **He could hardly walk through the streets of Geneva with an antelope.**
       "Indeed, so how prevalent are you?"
       **As Donald has said. We haven't gotten around as much as we would like. The more technology has prevailed, the more limited our movements have become. We were pretty much everywhere except the Americas and the far north in ancient times.**
       "And latter times?"
       **Security cameras are our great downfall. An eye with no mind behind it cannot be blinded.**
       "Then if I review the records, I should see you walk in here with Donald?"
       **Yes.**
       "He was checked through the front door Master Tamerlain."
       "I was about to question out security."
       **I could not have passed unnoticed. You are well defended against telepaths.**
       "How much has Donald told you of our Charter?"
       **Enough to understand your basic purpose. Unless you have some dark secret it is nothing we object to.**
       "And what is your Charter?"
       **Yes, we have one of a sort. We are placed here to get everyone's story Master Tamerlain.**
       "Our story?"
       **Yours personally, that of your culture, and of your race. As long as you are remembered, you will never vanish. For this the Creator made Us.**
       "Us?"
       **Ane, The All. Our body corporate and discorporate.**
       "I think we both have much to learn."
       Talban's ears went straight up. **Indeed Master Tamerlain, we do.**
 
 
Who Watches? Garry Stahl, February 2006

 
 
       Another "Watchers" fic. Master Tamerlain seems to have crawled into my head to stay. If I assume a Watcher organization in Epiphany Trek I cannot assume they are blind or stupid. Eventually they will encounter the Ane on Earth. Of what shape will that encounter be? Here I have defined it.
       The Ane wishing to keep their presence unknown to the general public will be pushed back to the Savanna by increasing surveillance technology. As late as the 20th century they could wander most of the Earth passing themselves off as cattle or a pony to the casual eye, or simply not being seen. Security cameras have no minds. The men behind them are not line of sight and cannot be fooled by mind tricks, Jedi or Ane. Antelopes walking the streets of New York will not go unnoticed. (Okay, maybe not in New York. New Yorkers assume that everything is trying to get them to geek, and steadfastly refuse to geek. "What, you never seen a antelope in the street before? What kind of hick are you? What's it doing? Trying to get a cab like everyone else. Waddaya think an antelope in New York is doing?)
       I assume that this conversation happened after the events in the previous Watcher Fic.

 
 
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Insert this Scene

       "Jim, I'd like a word with you." McCoy made a motion towards his office.
       "What is it Bones, we are kind of busy here."
       McCoy nodded towards his office again. "In here."
       Kirk locked eyes with McCoy. He nodded and entered the office. McCoy followed and locked the door.
       "Jim, what the Hell are you doing!"
       "What do you mean, I'm trying to get to the bottom..."
       "Not the mission. The mission be damned. What the Hell are you doing?"
       "I'm not reading you Bones."
       "You have stepped all over everyone on this ship I used to see you thinking of as friends. You've treated Matt Decker like dirt, shamed Scotty, bullied me. What in Heaven's name has gotten into you?"
       "What?"
       "Is there something they put into Admiral uniforms that makes a man into a tin plated bastard? Jim, you have been acting the part of a first rate ass. Right now you are working on trust and good will left from your last tour here. You are rapidly burning through that trust and if you keep on in the direction you are going you will lose them right about the time we desperately need that trust to survive."
       Kirk frowned. "How do you mean?"
       "Look how you are treating Matt Decker. That young man has been as close to a son as I've seen you have since the Constellation incident. After his Father sacrificed himself you took him in hand, guided, groomed. Dammit, you were proud when he was assigned to command Enterprise. Now you've taken his command without a by-your-leave and treated him like incidental hardware since you came on board."
       Kirk's eyes blazed. "How dare you read me out like this."
       "I dare because it's my job. You demanded, pulled strings, and moved mountains to get me back on this ship and in this uniform. Well, you get the whole package Jim. Like it or not this is what you asked for. I dare because I thought I was the one man that could tell you to your face when you were wrong. Because I'm your friend, this is what friends do."
       Kirk stepped back and looked down, then back at McCoy.
       McCoy continued. I don't know what is driving you, or why you are this way, it's not the Jim Kirk I know, and trust. The future is your call. Right now you are standing on the brink of destroying everything you built over those long five years. I've had my say, the rest is up to you."
       Kirk nodded, tight lipped. He walked out of McCoy's office. McCoy watched the door close behind his retreating back.
 
 
Insert this Scene -- Garry Stahl, 2001

 
 
       One of the problems I have had with Star Trek the Motion Picture is in the first part of the film, Kirk really needs a rectal craniectmy. That is his head pulled from his ass. McCoy is the only person who can reasonably pull this off. Had I been the director, this scene would have gotten put in the film. However, once again the have failed to ask me.

 
 
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The Last Unknown

       The clock ticked time away in its usual fashion, the fashion in which it had done so for over three hundred years. Around the old man his life was gathered. Mementos from far places, models of ships, the instruments of his life and profession cluttered the room. One model, the special one, he held in his hand.
       The old man lay in his bed, the comforter his Mother made close against his body. A few others stood, or sat by the old man Friends, good friends some that had come a long way to be here. One sat closer than the rest. He held the old man's hand, firm in his warm, strong grip.
       The old man looked out of bright unseeing eyes. An old, unsure hand caressed the lines of the special ship within his grasp. His other hand, the hand held by his true friend griped tighter.
       "Spock, Spock?"
       "I am here Captain."
       The old man smiled softly. "Spock, let's do it all again."
       After a moment, Spock reached up, and lovingly closed the eyes of James Kirk for the last time.
 
 
The Last Unknown -- Garry Stahl, October 1999

 
 
       I think my opinion is known by now, "Star Trek: Generations" sucked. While that film contains many good scenes, while the actors did their level best and the technical crew performed well, the whole is a pile of suckage such as I have seldom seen. The death of James T. Kirk is one of the worst handled things in the whole film. It is a Second Order Idiot Plot if I have ever seen one. Buuuut in keeping with a 40 year tradition, they did not ask me.
       Okay, I have been accused of being emotional, maudlin even, well guilty as changed. "ST: Generations" is not Epiphany Trek canon, it did not happen. Therefore I present the death of James T. Kirk as it really happened!

 
 
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Choices

       Healer Kafilan addressed the core. **I'm sorry Uniban, it didn't work. Your testes were as irradiated as the rest of your body.**
       **It was only to be expected Healer. Thank you for trying.** The later "voice" came from the smoky-gray pillar that dominated the small chamber. Light softly played though the interior.
       Kafilan sighed. **I don't like to disappoint people. You have had more than your share disappointments lately.**
       **I am here, I am still sensate. I have opportunities.**
       **You are adapting to this this remarkably well.**
       **I must make the adjustment or die Healer. I took this drastic plan because I am not ready to die.**
       **Good luck with your further training.**
       **Thank you Healer.**
       Kafilan walked away from the computer core of the USS Seeker. They had made medical history in transferring a biological to a computer core, but what had they really done?

       Uniban checked the ship's functions for the fifth time that second. He would have liked to join the others in the sleeping room, but there was no male Ane bio in the ship. He was not ready to try out a female, even to get a cuddle, and he could really use a cuddle.
       Fiealan the Questing's Computer Officer "moved" into his space. **Do we have to get physical about it?**
       **Oh, hi Fiealan. Isn't physical the whole idea?**
       **There are levels of physical Uniban. Here we make our own environment.**
       **Then why the bios?**
       **Because while we can make an environment here, it doesn't translate 'out there' and yes cuddles are nice. Bios are for physical interact with the other members of our culture. We will get you one as soon as possible.**
       **Am I alive?**
       **Answer you own question, do you feel alive?**
       **I feel little right now. I am aware of the ship yes, but the things I expect to feel, nothing, an emptiness. It hurts.**
       Fiealan moved closer, she constructed an environment about them natural to their kind. Uniban remained amorphous. **Uniban, we didn't expect it to be easy for you. You have done the hard part, transition is accomplished. Pull your icon together, reclaim your aspect. Is self the body only?**
       **I didn't now know how much it was the body, until I didn't have one.**
       **Is it really?**
       **Yes, oh yes. This absence of pain is nearly unbearable. Pain tells us we are alive as equally as does pleasure. I have nothingness and it fails to hurt.**
       **Make a somethingness. Remember yourself and live it.**
       **Help me...I don't know how.**
       Fiealan joined with Uniban and helped him remember himself. Slowly he came together in the reality she had made.
       Uniban twitched an ear, stretched his neck. **It feels, but how real is it?**
       **As real as it needs to be in this space.**
       Uniban lifted his front leg. He bit it. **Ow!**
        **Real enough?**
       **How?**
       **Question later, enjoy now.**
       **By questions do we live.**
       Fiealan flipped an ear at him. **You choose your moments to get axiomatic at me. The space we exist in is defined by ourselves alone. What we will in the space that engineers call cyberspace, is to the RI as real as meatspace. This is the natural world, meatspace is someplace you visit. Is this so different than the All? Do we not build such places in our minds?**
       **Yes, but I miss meatspace. I've never known this.**
       **Meatspace is where you grew up. What Elathlan has chosen scares me, giving up cyberspace to live in meatspace all the time? Having to go through childhood again. It is the great unknown. Death I understand, but taking the Birth?** She shuddered from nose to tail.
       Uniban's ears popped up. **The Birth! I could go back.**
       Fiealan nibbled lightly at his neck. **Yes, we could arrange that option, but like Elathlan, you would have to wait until we get home.**
       **I know.** He shuddered. **I can go back, if it is unbearable, I can go back.**
       She looked deep into his eyes. **Does that help you endure?**
       **Yes, yes it does. An anchor I can grasp. Choices are better than no choices. Even if one never takes the choice.**
       She rubbed against him twining necks. **I would choose to have a male mate with me.**
       He cocked his head and leaned into her advance. **I can make that choice.**
 
 
Choices -- Garry Stahl, December 2004

 
 
       A minor event in The Word of the Builders looked at in a bit more detail. Uniban goes on to be the Computer Officer of the USS Hadrian. Which is featured in A Journey of lessons and Inic. Both by my Wife Susan.

 
 
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Travelin' Blues

       The two sat on the stage of the old club, a single light shared between the two as shadows chased each other around the empty room.
       Sweet Pea was old. His face lined with care, his hair white and thinning. His ancient hands with their over-sized knuckles caressed the smooth darkened brass of the cornet. He lifted the instrument to his lips and played.
       Mournful, low, and aching the notes were squeezed from the horn. He hunched around the instrument eyes squeezed shut, each note pushed from the bell as if it cost him blood.
       Taraban sat beside him, soft mahogany fur with his black mane cascading down the arched neck. He filled his throat and sang sweet pain, a counterpoint to the horn in tenor flute cascaded in triplets around the heavier notes, and filled the spaces between them. Together the sound slithered 'round the old chairs and under the empty tables. It crouched between the brick walls and tapped at the old tin ceiling.
       They played and sang to an empty room, audience and musicians in one. Old ghosts gathered 'round the tables and jostled for space at the bar. They stared out from the gloom and smiled.

       Hours latter Sweet Pea gently wiped down the horn as he packed it away. Taraban watched the careful habits of the old Master.
       **Questing has been called out Sweet Pea.**
       The Old man sighed. "I suppose you will be going."
       **It is my chosen place.**
       "You will be missed my friend. We lost a great artist when you decided to be a starship captain, and not a blues singer."
       **Flatterer. Am I all that now?**
       "You are to me. Most of all, you are a good friend." Sweet Pea hugged Taraban, ending with Taraban's head in his hands. "You take care of yourself out there."
       **I will give it my best. I am rather fond of me.**
       "Where are you heading?"
       **Someplace new, the underside of the Klingon Empire. Vice Admiral Hailey wants an experienced manta crew at STB-600 to aid in training his new crews. Starfleet picked us.**
       "I am going to miss you."        **Why don't you get a group together and tour with Fuzzy?**
       "Well, it wouldn't be my buddy Taraban, but that is an idea I do need to look into."
       **I'll put in a good word for you. We are also putting together another group to work out of Oz, and one to work the frontier as well.**
       "Oz? Where is Oz?"
       **Where I am going.**
       "Well shut my mouth. I'll just see if I can dig up a couple of friends that want to shake the dust of this old world from their heels and see the stars."
       **I've got a week. I'll take you with me.**
       "Taraban ol' buddy, you have a deal."
 
 
Travelin' Blues -- Garry Stahl, February 2005.

 
 
       Everyone needs a hobby and Taraban hasn't been sitting idle waiting for the next story. It seems he has been traveling Earth looking for the real music.

 
 
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Archeology

       Another arrowhead. The Lieutenant picked it up out of the dirt. She rubbed it off on her sleeve and turned it over in her hands. The ruins were lousy with the things. She looked at said ruins as they faded off up into the hills. Down here at the base of the hill is where all the arrowheads where, right next to the crumbling tower of artificial stone.
       The Chief came up beside her. "Lieutenant, the base camp is finished. What do we start on next?"
       She turned to the Chief. "Start the survey crews. Lets get the basic geophysics done before nightfall." She flipped the arrowhead to the Chief. "Chief, what do you think they were for?"
       He turned the object over in his hands. "Well, I would say a primitive weapon, but they are not primitive and clearly not balanced as weapons."
       "Hopefully we will find some solid records in the ruins. What is left of the computers in orbit is worthless. This city does appear to be the ground control center for the space bore activity."
       "Yes, the motifs in the largest remaining stations and the motifs here do match. As well as matching ruins all over this sector of the Galaxy. If any spot is it, this is it."
       The Chief tossed the arrowhead back into the dirt. "So, we're finally going to get some answers as to what 'Starfleet' was."
 
 
Archeology -- Garry Stahl, July 2005

 
 
       I suppose this is a postscript to Star Trek at large. "And this too shall pass."

 
 
 
 

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