Dr. Chythar Skyfire: Of Course You Do.

[Chythar Skyfire]

//

Personal Log, SD 239603.21

Today is another day. I’ve been officially unassigned for 16 days, had my counseling appointment, passed the department off to a successor, and still haven’t found the words to tell Alex about what happened. He deserves to know before I make it back to Earth. If it is the lord’s will, everything will be fine.

//

(( Skyfire’s Quarters, USS Montreal))

:: The day of the party had arrived. In his usual fashion, he avoided everyone during the day in the hours leading up to a party, partially because he was easily overwhelmed by people. Alex wasn’t here, and he wanted to spend a few hours in reflection to gather his thoughts. Some hours before, Chythar had sent a message to the crew. ::

//

To: Crew of the Montreal

From: Dr. Chythar Skyfire

Subject: Farewell Party

In the recent shenanigans involving Meridian's plague outbreak, I have reached the conclusion that I am no longer fit to serve aboard a starship in a medical capacity. It has been an honor and privilege to serve with you all. If the captain permits, I would like to append my own invitation for a farewell party at the ceremony's conclusion as a final opportunity for you to say good byes to me and Devlin.

Sincerely,

Dr. Chythar Skyfire

//

:: A notification beep indicating a new message came in on his PADD, next to his leg. Devlin jumped up onto the bed and began barking at it. ::

Devlin: Raff raff! Raff!

Skyfire: Down, boy. It’s just an email.

:: The three year old beagle nuzzled against his master’s hand as Chythar retrieved the device and opened the letter. It was from the captain. ::

//

To: Crew of the Montreal

From: CDR Mei’konda Delano, Commanding Officer

Subject: RE: Farewell Party

I hereby approve Doctor Skyfire’s request.  He’s served us and the Shoals well, so let’s all give him a good sendoff.

-CDR Mei’konda Delano

//

:: With his request approved, he glanced at the time. He supposed he had enough time to take a shower and get cleaned up in order to prepare himself. There were some conversations that he wasn’t looking forward to having -- some farewells he wasn’t ready to make. Yet, out of all of them, the hardest would be Lael. They owed each other their lives so many times over, but with Alex gone and his PTSD kicking in in full force, he couldn’t remain professional under these circumstances. He could not afford to freeze again with a life depending on him to save it. At least, as he’d said to Cattan, the worst that could happen if he had a bad day at the coffee shop was spilling raktajino and getting first degree burns. He went to go take a shower before he rejoined his canine companion, trimmed his beard, and began to change into his uniform. He was grateful, in a way, that this wasn’t one of those formal occasions which required dress-whites and the full ribbon rack on the chest -- his contained the accolades of six years in service: 29 ribbons in total -- some varying between one and four citations apiece. ::

:: Every conversation that played out in his head of what-if ended badly, with him saying or doing something that would get him in trouble. There was a moment of hesitation in which he almost considered not going to the party, but he’d committed to it and had a farewell planned; so regardless of the outcome, he still had to find a way to break the news to Alex. That thought alone scared him. CD was going to head back to Earth to be with his uncle, to stay out of medicine for a while and undergo some fairly intensive counseling to try and regain his mental faculties. Maybe he’d never work in medicine again. Maybe his career as an officer was on hold. He didn’t know how to explain it, or where to start. ::

:: Once he  a moment to contemplate his appearance. Beard neatly trimmed, his long hair flowing freely down to his shoulders. He reached for one of the black hair ties he kept next to the sink and tied it back, then reaffixed his pair of necklaces to his neck: Alex’s marine dog tags and his crucifix. As he tucked them beneath his shirt, he walked over to the table and retrieved Devlin’s leash before casting a final glance around the room. His ribbon case was still on the table, because he knew he’d have more to put in it before the night was out. Everything else had been packed away. Once he clipped the leash to Devlin’s collar, he led the way out of the room and began making his way to the party. ::

(( Officer’s Lounge, the end of the day of the transport rendezvous. ))

:: Stennin and Sotak were engaged in conversation when he walked into the room, and he saw German approach Lael with a drink in his hand. Several of the other officers were milling about also, but Chythar didn’t engage. Devlin was quiet throughout, the little beagle following alongside his master. ::

:: CD’s gaze wandered around the room, catching on to the subtle gestures between Lael & German. Instead of reacting, he had a seat next to Devlin against one of the windows in the back of the room, resting a hand on the canine’s head as they waited for the shindig to start. A short time later, the doors parted one last time to admit their Caitian commanding officer. In his paws was a metal storage case he’d placed on the podium and opened up. Chythar recognized that box: Mei had used it before during their last ceremony. He knew what was about to happen, at least in part.  ::

:: Gazes wandered in the captain’s direction once he came into the room, conversation hushing as he neared the podium. ::

Mei’konda: My apologies, everyone.  Paaperwork got in the way.

:: The fact that they were here at all was, more than likely, a result of said paperwork. After six years in Starfleet, he recognized the fact that moments such as this were some of the greatest recognition that could be granted to an officer. CD also knew that the farewell party would be occurring at the end, and while it was merely a request that had been approved with no fanfare or ceremony, it was, in a way, a sort of personal recognition of his mental state: that he was no longer able to continue as an officer for the foreseeable future. ::

Tel-ar / Cattan / Shin / Hamasaki / Harkrow / Sotak / Grog: Responses

:: Something about the way the captain’s grin seemed welcoming, almost like that of the cheshire cat, but the major difference was the tawny fur as opposed to the silver or pink and purple striped variants. The Caitian’s soft gaze seemed to lighten the mood a bit more. ::

Mei’konda: Welcome.  Thaank you all for coming.  I know repaairs have been taking up most of our free time laately, but as a crew, it’s importaant that we gather from time to tiime and reaffirm our dedication to each other, and to Starfleet.  

:: While there was certainly a lot of pressure to perform this last mission, CD was well aware of the fact that a crew was supposed to be his family. There was a mixture of emotions that had to be coaxed into working well together in the event that personalities clashed. One relationship that he knew of was already destroyed, irreparably, and there wasn’t anything thing he could do about it. ::

:: Mei’konda paused for a moment, aimed a slight smile at Rosek, and continued. ::

:: Galven seemed to give a pat on the shoulder to both Cattan and Grog, though why, exactly, Skyfire was unsure. It might’ve had something to do with the last mission, but he wasn’t going to speculate. Skyfire glanced down at his little beagle friend for a moment before he knocked back the rest of his drink and stood up. Once he glanced at Devlin again, he spoke softly. ::

Skyfire: :: To Devlin. :: Stay, and be quiet.

Devlin: :: Quietly. :: Raff.

Mei’konda: If not for your efforts, millions of liives might’ve been lost on Meridian.  You’ve saaved an entire colony, not to mention the liives of the Klingon delegation.  Because of your efforts, we’ve secured an arms treaty with the Klingons in this region, and that will help us greatly in our mission to keep our colonies saafeguarded from the Tholians.  So, congratulations to you all.

Stennin: It was only our duty, captain.

Galven: And you did a job well done too, sir.

Tel-ar  / Cattan / Shin / Harkrow / Hamasaki / Sotak / Grog: Responses

Mei’konda: We miight be on Lenik’s tail, but for tonight, we’re here to celebraate your accomplishments.  To that end, Starfleet has awarded all of us here with the Operation Safe Harbor ribbon, for our efforts in combating piracy here.  Commander Rosek, if you would?

Rosek: :: Nodded and grinned. :: With pleasure, sir. 

:: There was a sort of soft nod or murmur of acknowledgment that seemed to settle on the crowd as Lael began pinning the ribbons on their uniforms. The former CMO was silent, his face an unreadable mask. Due to the fact he took his anti-anxiety meds plus his nearly fourteen hours of meditation, he was able to look his best friend in the eyes once their gazes locked and not feel the effects of an emotional feedback loop. It was hard, but necessary. He didn’t want to break down in front of everyone the night he was supposed to be hosting a party. ::

Stennin: :: Under his breath. :: That is most agreeable.

Galven: Just doing my job, sir. :: To Lael. :: Do you need help with your ribbon?

:: She stood silent as German helped pin it on her, though she was blushing a little bit. Chythar supposed that perhaps her recent experiences had tempered her just a tad, but he didn’t want to make false assumptions about the blush. ::

Any: Responses

Mei’konda: Thaank you, everyone.  Now, would Doctors Skyfire, Cattan, and Solok, as well as Crewman Padix stand to attention, please?

:: As the other officers stepped back, Chythar hesitated for a moment. He had a sudden wave of dread creep up within him, and he desperately wished he had another drink in his hand. He was expecting the Safe Harbor medal, but he didn’t do anything to warrant additional recognition. He froze, and the captain saw it. ::

Padix: ::stands at attention:: Sir.

:: CD swallowed roughly and bit back his fear as he followed suit, standing at attention between the two doctors. ::

Cattan: Responses

:: Mei’konda stepped around from behind the podium, several smaller boxes in one of his furry paws. Amongst said boxes was a smaller one, made of rosewood. CD had a feeling he knew what was coming for the young crewman as the Caitian cleared his throat. ::

Mei’konda: Doctors and Crewman, you played pivotal roles in solving the plague, as well as in saving the lives of several of your fellow officers and crew.  For that, the four of you are being awarded the Medical Science Ribbon, as well as the Silver Lifesaving Ribbon.  In addition, I’m pleased to present Doctor Solok as the Montreal’s new Chief Medical Officer.  I’ve no doubt that he’ll do a good job of taaking over for Doctor Skyfire.

:: CD was sad to be leaving Lael here, but the help he needed was beyond what their facilities could provide. As much as he didn’t want to go, he knew he had to in order to recover. He swallowed roughly, and met her gaze as he willed himself to ignore the mental connection between them. Though it was dampened due to her inhibitor, it was slightly amplified given the proximity. ::

Solok: I do not think I say too much when I acknowledge that Doctor Skyfire is irreplaceable. But I will do that which I am able, to the best of my ability, on my honor as a Vulcan, Sir.

Skyfire: I am humbled by your words, sir. 

Cattan: Responses

 

Padix: ::tilts her head:: We were only doing what had to be done, sir. Thank you!

:: She stepped forward, offering a congratulatory handshake to Chythar, Femi and Muvyn and a ta’al to Solok. As CD shook Lael’s hand, he maintained eye contact. The bittersweet feelings she’d been fighting mirrored his own internal battle as they touched, and he was grateful that physical contact was brief. Out of everyone in this room, she was the only one who could read him like an open book. ::

Rosek: Muhl ovsoh fi' ish-veh navun, Hassu. (Well done on your success, Doctor.)

:: Mei’konda stepped between the four, carefully attaching the ribbon to each of their uniforms.  He held his place near Padix, for a moment, and met the woman’s eyes. Once he approached the young Trill officer, a small rosewood box remained in paw.  ::

Mei’konda: Crewman Padix, due to your essential service to this ship and crew, I’m also pleased to promote you to Crewman 2nd class.  Congratulaations.

 

Padix: ::gasps:: Sir::beat::I’m honored!

 

:: Mei’konda made his way back up to stand at the podium, and inclined his head toward the four to indicate that they could step back. ::

:: As they waited for the captain to speak again, Chythar was oblivious to the side conversation between Padix and German He was still boggled by the fact he received ribbons, despite the fact his lack of action could’ve gotten German killed. ::

Mei’konda: Next, would Ensign Stennin step up, please.

:: As Stennin had the same momentary hesitation, Chythar did notice the brief freeze and release of tension. This time, when Mei’konda faced the officer, two boxes. One again of small rosewood, and the other containing a medal of some sort. ::

Mei’konda: Ensign, I hear reports that your efforts were essential in solving our plaague problem, as well.  You’re new to Starfleet, but you’re already a credit to the uniform.  For that, I’m also presenting you with the Medical Science ribbon - and also, a promotion to Lieutenant, junior grade.  I have no doubt that you’ll contiinue to serve well, Lieutenant.

:: Much like Chythar had done when he was promoted to lieutenant JG, he watched the Vulcan reach a hand up to his collar to caress the pip. As though inspecting its realism with tactile perception. ::

Stennin: I will uphold my performance with as much efficiency as is required.

 

Solok: Commander Mei'konda's logic in honoring you is sound, Fosh-lan.

Any: Responses

 

Galven: Great job, Lieutenant! Well deserved.

:: The Caitian’s gaze turned toward the Denobulan. 

Mei’konda: Mr. Galven, will you join me, please.

::Momentarily thrown, he turned his head quickly and nearly stumbled, but kept his posture. He headed over to where the Captain was and stood at attention.::

 

Galven: Yes, sir?

 

::He wanted to look down in the box when the Caitian opened it, but he didn’t need to when the man held up the medal.::

:: Opening a small box in front of the blue-collared man, Mei’konda drew out the next medal. ::

:: The slightly less-than-pleased look in Lael’s eye as Galven was called up was an indicator that whatever it was wouldn’t be a pleasant addition to the uniform. CD had the feeling he knew what it was before the captain opened his mouth. :: 

Mei’konda: This is my least faavorite medal to award, Lieutenant.  In this case, your fiight with the plague proved useful in studying its symptoms, and according to the reports, helped the medical staff discover a cure.  I’m awardiing you the Purple Heart.

Galven: :: Nodded. ::  I’ll wear it with honor sir. Without the crew, I wouldn’t be here. I’ll think of it as a family award. The Montreal family.

:: Purple Hearts. Chythar had received four. He loathed those things. Considering it a family award was probably for the best, but he just hoped that he’d be off the ship before the next diplomatic dignitaries arrived. He wasn’t fond of dress-whites with the full salad rack on his chest. 29 ribbons in all was a bit weighty. As the commander pressed it into his hand, Lael leaned forward and whispered something into his ear before stepping back and letting German rejoin the crowd. ::

Mei’konda: Finally, would Lieutenant Harkrow, Ensign Hamasaki, and Commander Rosek join me, please.

:: Lael’s facial cues perplexed the good doctor, but he remained still as the other two officers assembled. There seemed to be some sort of a subdued look as she became just one of many fine officers to be recognized for their efforts. ::

Harkrow: Response

Mei’konda: The three of you acted accordiing to the highest tradition of Starfleet in order to ensure that Lenik’s vessel would be driiven off.  The Montreal would never have gotten off the ground in tiime if not for your efforts.  I’m awardiing you all the Captain’s Commendaation for your efforts.

Rosek: ::worries her lower lip and nods:: Thank you, sir.

Harkrow / Hamasaki: Responses

:: Mei’konda shifted his attention more directly toward the two more junior officers. Chythar understood the captain’s pride in his new officers, but there was something still on the podium behind him that the doctor didn’t quite see. He suspected it was more ribbons. ::

Mei’konda: And last?  You all know we’ve been dealing with some personnel changes lately.  Our chief medical officer, chief helmsman, and chief engineer have all been reassigned.  The first, we’ve already dealt with.  The second and third?

:: Mei’konda smiled at the two of them. ::

Mei’konda: First, I’m awardiing you both the Innovation Ribbon for your creatiive solution to the problem of getting us off the ground and to a hiigh enough altitude that we could get our shields up before Lenik’s ship could cripple the Montreal.  

:: He pinned the ribbon first to Harkrow’s uniform, and second, to Hamasaki’s. ::

::German watched on as he was clapping when the Captain pinned the medals on both Hamasaki and Harkrow.::

Mei’konda: Ensign Hamasaki.  I’m makiing you the ship’s chief helmsman, and effectiive immediately, grantiing you the rank of Lieutenant, junior grade.  Congratulations, Lieutenant.

Hamasaki: Response

:: The Caitian turned back toward Harkrow. ::

Mei’konda: Mister Harkrow, you’ve impressed me continually with your creatiivity and your efficiency.  With Lieutenant Thoran leaviing the ship, I thiink you’ll be the perfect stand in.  To that effect, I’m maaking you chief engineer of this starship, and granting you the rank of full Lieutenant.  Congratulations, Lieutenant.  You’ve earned it.

Harkrow: Response

Galven: Congratulations, Lieutenants!

Any: Responses

:: Mei’konda joined in the clapping for their fellow officers, then lifted his voice one more time. ::

Mei’konda: That’s it, everyone.  Please, enjoy the eveniing, and congratulations once again. ::

Stennin: if I may use an ancient proverb: May you reap what you sow!

Any: response

Galven: And to that I say from what people on Terra used to say. Drinks are on me! ::chuckles::

 

:: As various conversations broke out around him, Chythar made his way over to the podium. He waited for a few moments, he Once there, he tapped on his glass to get everyone’s attention. ::

Skyfire: I’ve never been much for words, so I’ll keep this short. It has been an honor and pleasure to serve beside each and every one of you. I was there for Commander Mei’konda’s promotion to lieutenant commander aboard the Garuda, and it has been a pleasure to watch his rise to become the CO of his own ship. I would like to propose a toast to the captain, and the crew of the Montreal. :: He raised his glass and had a sip of his drink. :: I’ll stay and mingle until the party ends. 

:: His words spoken, he made his way back over to the window and Devlin. It would be a long night, and he was going to need a hefty cup of raktajino. Maybe two. He glanced down at Devlin for a moment. ::

Skyfire: Do you think I overdid it?

:: Devlin looked up at his master and tilted his head to the side, tail wagging behind him. :: 

Devlin: Raff.

Skyfire: You think maybe my staying here is a good idea?

Devlin: Raff! 

Skyfire: Of course you do. :: He had a seat next to the dog and petted his head as he waited for people to make their way over to him. He didn’t feel comfortable engaging under so much stress, so he was going to play the “sit and wait” game. ::

Anyone: Response

Skyfire: It will be a difficult transition, yes. Klingon coffee is a very different beast from chief medical officer’s paperwork. 

Anyone: Response

===

Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire, MD

Coffee Jockey

USS Montreal NCC-64927

O239002CS0