Capt. Shayne: Mushrooms- The Last Thing I Need Right Now

[Randal Shayne]

(( Dewitt Residence, Ventura, California, Earth ))

The evening’s cooling brought with it a smoky flavor, as torches were lit to supplement the failing light. Almost like a migration, the throngs of people had slowly either dispersed, or moved towards the podium once more. Now that his vision was finally fully righted- and not a moment too soon, for the torches weren’t enough to replace the daylight- Shayne found himself taking stock; of himself, of the day, of his choices. So far as he could tell, he’d not embarrassed himself other than through his own harsh lens- a miracle that he could thank a god for, if only he knew to which address he should forward his praise. 

The second part of the evening was upon them- the component that had been so overwhelmed in scope and importance that he’d not spent a moment’s consideration upon it. Fortunately, a brief scan of the contents behind his podium revealed much to the observant viewer, and he smiled softly to himself. 

Wait staff had diligently worked to clear away the detritus that so necessarily followed any gathering of people, but instead of wrapping up the feast in its entirety, a strange kind of metamorphosis was taking place. Overwhelmingly, the scent of the air was now tinged with the flavors and hues of sauteed mushrooms, and the richness of a dozen dishes abundantly imbued with fungi from a smattering of worlds hung in the open space like an intoxicant. He hoped Ras wouldn’t be insulted. 

With an unusually unleaden chest, Shayne stepped up to the podium, where a single angled light from a small scaffold suffused him in a pleasant glow. His white dress shirt- now buttoned once more- clenched at his throat as he “ahem’ed” softly into the mic. The chatter began to die quickly, and the occasional busybody hissing “shh!” made the captain smile warmly. 

He took a moment, awkward were it not for its genuine intent, and plenty of practice, and simply gazed out at the people before him. Hundreds of individuals, all with their own goals and needs and desires, and each of them was looking towards him. His heart wavered as he considered his next words; at this point, it was more than tradition. It was a warding against evil. 

Shayne: Here we are again. 

“Not all of us” spoke for itself in his soul. Vanta. Brom. He could name a dozen more if he had the luxury of comfortably sinking into a globular mound of despair. But he didn’t. Not anymore. He hadn’t, actually. And he’d be damned if the day he was reminded of the preciousness of life was the day he decided to give it away one despondent moment at a time. 

Shayne: Those of you who have been with us long know what’s to come; brace yourselves appropriately. 

He slung himself low, and retrieved the first box. 

Shayne: Ensigns Michaels and Semara, join me here if you please. 

Shayne watched as the two women waifed their way through their peers, climbed the small pair of stairs and joined Shayne at a respectful distance. Semara looked pleased but content, though with how she smiled, Shayne wondered if she was physically incapable of frowning. Michaels appeared every bit the stoic Vulcan soul, but her eyes glinted in the firelight, as if distantly entertained by some unknowable engagement. 

Shayne: Ensigns, I don’t believe I ever got the chance to properly commend your actions on the bridge this past mission. Your ingenuity in modulating and using our shields to communicate with Junior was inspired. I love finding an unusual use for an unrelated technology, and Starfleet seems to share my affection for such things, because they’ve invented a recognition just to honor moments such as these. As such, please accept the Innovation Ribbon for your efforts. Congratulations and thank you. 

The first wave of clapping resonated as Shayne presented the boxes to the pair of women. 

Semara/Michaels: Response 

Shayne: Commander Dewitt! Ensign Lacey! Your presence is requested and required. 

Shayne listened closely for the soft rustling of whispers and judgements that had followed Lacey so often following her placement under Shayne’s commands. But this time, there was only approval and “ooh”s from the surrounding peanut gallery. Instinctively, he understood this was largely for Dewitt, but in his heart, he’d never expected the stigma around Lacey’s past decisions to dissipate, even if he himself was starting to come around. Progress- true, immutable progress. He couldn’t help but smile. 

Shayne: Commander. Ensign. They say you goldcollars can turn rocks into replicators, and I believe it, but even so- rigging replicators, of all things, as a detection grid? And under those circumstances? Impressive. Most impressive. As such, I am pleased to announce that you both are the first of the Khitomer to earn the Spliced Mainbrace Distinction. Congratulations- and after we’re done here, that’s a round on me. 

Lacey/C. Dewitt: Response

The pair disengaged gracefully, and Shayne hunted for his next targets. 

Shayne: Mr. El’Heem! Mr. Matthews- dammit, Richard Matthews! I dub thee Blue Matthews! Get up here, you pair of… 

He trailed off, feigning the grouchiness of what might yet turn out to be a genuine bureaucratic headache. The pair approached, one significantly taller than the other. Standing next to the pair of humans, El’Heem looked a bit like a blinking, patiently breathing streetlamp. 

Shayne: Gentlemen; I was not with you on the Eridani. I did not witness your conduct, nor your deeds. But the reports I’ve received speak to eminent grace under pressure, restraint and the best of Starfleet in your performance. As such, please accept the Good Conduct Ribbon. Congratulations, and thank you. 

R. Matthews/El’Heem: Response

The applause lingered, and Shayne joined in, trying to keep his hands from slapping together more than a few times per worthy recipient. Perhaps this would be the occasion his palms didn’t come away red and raw. 

Shayne: Commander Ohnari! You know what you’ve done. Get up here! 

Shayne tried not to smirk as the bashful Ohnari wobbled forward, a touch of something tasty clinging to the corner of her lip. Or was that shadow? He was going to enjoy this either way. 

Shayne: Commander. Doctor. I won’t lie- your interest in prosthetics is starting to frighten me, and your crotchety bat friend keeps sending me ransom notes for bananas. That said… ::here his aspect lost its fake annoyance:: …you have been Chief Medical Officer for over six months now. In that time, you have operated a capable, nuanced and effective facility. You have cared for this crew, whatever the ailment. Any captain would be proud to have you aboard- and to recognize you with the Department Chief Ribbon for your ongoing excellence. Congratulations, and thank you. 

Ohnari: Response 

As he handed her the box with one hand, and moved to shake her hand with the other, he met her gaze pointedly, but then softened it appreciatively. He grasped her hand firmly, and squeezed it tightly in quick succession. 

One-two. 

Thank-you. 

As the doctor descended, Shayne realized that a very painful distinction now awaited deliverance. 

Shayne: Would Lieutenant Ayemet Dewitt join me, please? 

A muffled series of “aww”s followed Jacin to the podium, but Shayne could not join them, nor even smile. He knew what this was for. 

He gazed into her eyes, refusing to look away, grateful for the peace she had permitted him. 

Shayne: Lieutenant. On this happy occasion, I shall not linger on the distressing past; but to ignore it is to dismiss it, and that cannot be allowed. For the context of our newer personnel, Lieutenant Dewitt was recently captured by the Lattice Alliance in the midst of the Battle of DS33. She- and she alone- effected an escape from their clutches. Your resilience, ingenuity, courage, fortitude and dedication to duty will be remembered, and whatever legacy this starship has will forever be brightened by your place aboard her. Please accept the Prisoner of War Ribbon, and the Federation Cross. Thank you, Lieutenant. 

A. Dewitt: Response 

The applause lasted for nearly two whole minutes, and Shayne did nothing to soften its harsh, powerful praise. When it finally did succumb to the keen interest of what came next, Shayne permitted himself a sad smile. This one was going to hurt, too. 

Shayne: Mr. Zerva! Standby to blush! 

He waited for the young man to approach, and Shayne noticed for the first time that… the man’s dog was present. On the one hand, she seemed well-behaved enough, and it was a great opportunity to get her some time on an actual grassy knoll, instead of a holodeck. But on the other, Shayne could only muster so much fondness for creatures that made defecating your business. Perhaps Zerva was bringing her as emotional support. After the weeks they’d had, he didn’t have to work hard to believe it. 

Zerva: Response 

Shayne: Mr. Zerva, your conduct has been excellent, and under challenging circumstances you have distinguished yourself. For your resilience, your leadership and your adaptability while under stress, I’m proud to recognize you with the Legion of Merit. May you continue to be a proud example of Starfleet’s ideals. Congratulations. 

Zerva: Response 

The applause began, but Shayne held up a hand to stymy it. 

Shayne: I’m not quite finished. Mr. Zerva, there comes a time in all our lives when we must strive for more than what we have been. In the wake of Chief Vanta’s passing in the line of duty, you have been a worthy successor. Now, though, I think it is time to recognize the progress you have so studiously earned. 

He reached low, and brought out the lone black box on the podium. 

Shayne: For exemplary dedication, and for earning my faith, I am pleased to promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, with all the rights and responsibilities that are commensurate with that rank. Congratulations, Lieutenant, and well done! 

The applause rang throughout the green glade as moonlight cracked through wispy clouds to add an ethereal coolness to the scene. Shayne shook the man’s hand, affixed the pip, and joined with the applause.

Zerva: Response 

Shayne: And with that, ladies and gentlemen- and miscellaneous others- I conclude our awards ceremony for this leave. On the tables behind you can be found another round of food and libation- this time inspired by the Kressari holiday of Thoa’Rymm. If you’re interested in learning more, I’m sure Mr. El’Heem would be glad to talk to you about it. For now, though, know it is an appreciation of life, renewal and gratitude- all parts of this moment I feel connected to in abundance. 

Further instructions and context failed him. 

Shayne: Let’s eat! Again…! 

Tag/TBC…

Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0