Capt. Shayne: Baubles
Randal Shayne
((Holosuite 4, Deep Space 9))
Shayne’s face was scrunched into a spectral grimace. Fresh “air” wafted across his features, tickling his eyebrows and giggling at his grunt of disapproval. The “sun” beat down upon them with a facsimile of its truer form’s abandon. Even its light, supposedly blinding, arrived diffused and unsubstantial. The “grass” was wrong, the “sky” was wrong. He smelled overloaded circuitry.
He hated holodecks.
He’d only been trapped in them eight or nine times over his life, facing mortal peril every occasion. Even when they weren’t singularly ruinous deathtraps, they were just real enough to lose yourself in, and just fake enough to be lost in. A whole universe to explore, and people still chose to enter these fantasy suites and… and…
He stopped there. Holodecks on starships were bad enough- woe betide the poor crewman forced to clean out the matter buffers. But… holosuites? Every manner of creature, conventional and contemptable, had access to these preposterous rooms. He looked down at the ground- no amount of grass could hide the slight stickiness of the paneling he walked upon.
Around him, a pleasantly neutral glade of trees and water works focused attention on a small stage with an equally small podium. Chairs- far more than he was used to on Arrow- were arranged in a properly boring fashion. Food beckoned to all comers.
Bajor had been the original plan for the shore leave ceremony, but even the brief jaunt there by runabout had been a challenge to undertake. Without an emergency, warp within a solar system was illegal, and the prospect of hauling the whole ship’s complement there in chunks was inefficient to the point where it made the captain’s eyes water. So, they’d been forced to use the dubious, musty holosuites (at an outrageous markup, of course).
One of these days he was going to set up a token system for holodeck use. Perhaps he’d treat it as a liberty privilege.
He really did truly detest these things.
For whole moments at a time, he’d pause his rage long enough to appreciate the beauty of their surroundings, only for the illusion to be rudely shattered by the parting wheeze of a very Cardassian set of doors. Eventually, though, the room was filled with chattering, hungry, rather impatient people. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ash, who was- appropriately- near the shade of a tree, apparently indulging in its coolness. Their eyes met, and he winked silently. He took the stage, with his XO Hobart in close succession. The chattering began to die down as he tapped the small microphone.
He surveyed the crowd, and prepared to speak.
But the words, tradition at this point, seemed to mock him, and seemed to be begging for a cataclysm. He swallowed hard, and found a lump of coal in his throat he could move against the doubt with.
Shayne: Here… we are again.
But not all of them were there. Not this time. Reassignment had taken their chief of security Zenno, almost out of the (equally appropriately) blue. And Jacin…
Shayne: I gave thought to doing this, to continuing with our ceremony tradition. In the wake of all that’s been lost, it felt somehow… gauche. But I also realized that we miss these people because of their character- character that, time and again, has proven that we, you and I, are in the company of Starfleet’s very finest. That same character would not want us to grieve at the expense of recognizing what makes this crew, this purpose, this voyage great. So we will continue, as we always have before, and strive for better every day, in honor of those missing from our ranks.
Shayne ducked low to retrieve the small mound of wooden boxes within the podium, being careful to lift with his legs, and being more careful to wipe away any sign of tears.
Shayne: Alright, you lot… Ensign Brenner! Join me up here if you please.
There were a lot of names to keep in mind, and a lot of boxes to deliver. He prayed that he’d kept the identical wooden cubes in their proper order- or this was about to get very confusing.
Shayne: Mr. Brenner. As a former pilot, I can attest to the difficulty of what you pulled off throughout our most recent battle. Navigating debris, enemy fire and more with a damaged ship and a wounded body was extraordinary, and as such I present you with the Captain’s Commendation, in recognition of your exceptional performance.
Brenner: Response
A cross-handed shake and a box delivery later, Shayne prepared the second container.
Shayne: Mr. Zerva! Join your shipmate up here, if you please.
Shayne: It’s one thing to be injured in the line of duty. But to be faced with such aggravating factors as a lack of consistent gravity and a perpetual pummeling of weapons fire could only have antagonized your condition. As such, I am recognizing both of your injuries with the Purple Heart- something I try not to do because-
And here he raised his voice so the whole crowd could hear.
Shayne: -it seems to give the accident prone amongst you an incentive to hurt yourselves! I don’t want you getting the wrong idea.
He switched his attention back to Brenner and Zerva, and offered them both another crosshanded shake.
Shayne: Congratulations, Mr. Brenner. Mr. Zerva, stand fast.
Zerva/Brenner: Response
Applause followed Brenner off the stage- but everyone in the room would be getting at least a little something more.
Shayne: Mr. Matthews! Up here with Mr. Zerva, if you please.
The necessary shuffling of bodies took place- even if the expanse of the horizon appeared endless, the holosuite itself was very limited in scale. Eventually, though, the science officer made it to the small plinth.
Shayne: Gentlemen. This past experience demanded more from us than we were likely taught to expect. As we’re in Starfleet, that means quite a bit. You two specifically, however, were forced into roles well outside of your training, and, I’d wager, your comfort zones. Mr. Zerva, you are a security officer forced to take on the tactical role- and now that you have done so, I would endorse your becoming certified in both Security and Tactical. Mr. Matthews, you are a scientist forced to be a soldier- along with half a dozen other small roles as circumstances demanded. As such, I am pleased to award you both with the Excellence in Adaptability Ribbon. Congratulations.
Matthews/Zerva: Response
The pair descended with applause, and Shayne consulted the next victim of his praise.
Shayne: Ensign Michaels! To the front, please.
The lithe woman worked her way carefully through the bundle of chairs and came to a stop near the CO.
Shayne: Ensign, by now the whole ship has heard about your daring maneuver on the outside of the ship. I hope I’ve made it clear to all-
And here he glared at the audience pointedly.
Shayne: -that I don’t want to encourage such dangerous operations, even if they are deemed necessary in the moment. That said… you displayed profound courage and resolve, and I would be remiss if I did not recognize that. As such, please accept the Federation Cross. Oh, and Ensign, let me leave you with the immortal words of a great leader from Old Earth. “Nice catch- don’t ever f*ckin’ do it again”.
Michaels: Response
As Michaels retreated, Shayne called out another pair of names!
Shayne: Commander Ohnari! Get up here- and bring Ensign El’Heem with you, if you please!
Shayne watched with mild amusement as the 5’7’’ CMO wobbled her way through the crowd, pursued in close order by the towering El’Heem, who lankily followed in her footsteps. Once they were together on the stage, Shayne smiled at them both- an odder pair might be challenging to find, but there was no denying they had been effective.
Shayne: Commander, Ensign. I don’t think I need say much about your performance this last mission; most everyone in this room can attest to your skill and medical prowess. A good many of us are still alive because of your interventions, and your ability to overcome astonishing odds while doing so only helps you shine brighter in the annals of this vessel’s history. As such, please accept the Silver Lifesaving Ribbon, in recognition of your service to us all. Congratulations.
El’Heem/Ohnari: Response
Was it Shayne’s imagination, or was the crowd clapping a little more vigorously for the pair of them? He tossed them a good-natured smirk as the loudness died away.
Shayne: Commander, that’s all for now- thank you again. But as for you, Mr. El’Heem…
Shayne bent down to grab one of the last boxes; its inside was a plush red, and it was made of stained black mahogany.
Shayne: Ensign, your recent performance has exposed an issue- an issue of some bureaucratic inconvenience. You see, Starfleet will receive my report soon regarding our engagement with the Sheliak and the Tholians, and they will see your name mentioned prominently, along with a fair listing of your actions during this engagement. They will then notice that you are an ensign, and then they will wonder how you have managed to go unpromoted this whole time. As such, it is my solemn privilege to promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, with all the rights and responsibilities conferred by that rank. Thank you Lieutenant, and congratulations!
El’Heem: Response
The applause verged on raucous and Shayne joined with it, taking time to sweep over the crowd and catch the eyes of other ensigns, who soon might be recognized the same way, should their prerequisites be in order.
Shayne: Additionally, all hands aboard for the previous mission will be receiving the Joint Meritorious Service Ribbon, for operating alongside the USS Ronin, as well as the Tholian Campaign Ribbon for, I suspect, obvious reasons.
The final couple of boxes caught his eye- awards for Campbell and Jacin- but as he tried to speak, he found his mood sombering, his voice choking, his resolve quaking. He set them back down. Another time. Another time.
Shayne: Let’s eat!
Tag/END
Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0