Capt. Shayne: On The Growth Of Trees

[Randal Shayne]

((Holodeck 1 - DS 33 ; Simulation of Broken Tepui Aerie, Klowahka))

…well, the hard part would come in a moment. 

Shayne: Lieutenant Dewitt! Thought you could hide from me? Up you come! 

The pair of boxes felt good in his hands as the counselor strode towards the stage. Shayne didn’t even bother hiding his smile as he noticed subtle indications of a recent surgery. If she was up and moving about, it must have gone well. 

Shayne: Ayemet. You are a source of profound wisdom, grace and support. We have come to rely on you, perhaps more than is recommended. You have helped us to make peace with our circumstances in ways I didn’t think reasonable to ask for. We would not be the same ship without you. Please accept the Trauma Support Ribbon, and our thanks. 

Ayemet: Response 

Before she could leave, Shayne whipped out the second box from behind his back. Hee–ya! 

Shayne: My human ancestry compels me to say… but wait! There’s more! Your presence in Sickbay was helpful, beneficial and composed in this past engagement. Not the engagement between you and Co- nevermind. Please accept the Good Conduct Ribbon for your efforts. 

Ayemet: Response 

The applause seemed slightly more vigorous for Ayemet, who gracefully moved her discomfort away from her face as best she could. Shayne grinned. Far away was the young gloomy Ops officer or helmsman or chief engineer or… whatever the hell else he’d been in his heyday. This was a man who was proud to embarrass his people- for good causes, of course. He wasn’t Satan. 

Shayne: Ensign Michaels! Join me here, please. 

The joviality from his voice was gone. Sternness had taken its place. His teeth were clenched and his jaw was tight. The murmur of delighted gossip mellowed as the vibe tilted. 

Michaels arrived, features classically Vulcanian, eyes holding just a little something extra behind them. 

Shayne: Ensign? You’re out of uniform. 

As an ensign himself, he’d sworn he’d never do this. He would never scare people like this on stage, in front of everyone. 

But he was old, and crabby, and at heart, very much a sh%tgoblin. 

Shayne: Unacceptable. And at your own promotion! Shocking. 

He reached behind him to retrieve a specially crafted oak box, of a darker and more lustrous construction. Opening it, a single dark pip greeted them both. Shayne took it in his fingers, and very carefully and respectfully attached it to Michaels’ collar. 

Shayne: ::almost under his breath as he concentrated:: I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade, with all the commensurate privileges and responsibilities of that rank. Congratulations, Lieutenant. 

Michaels: Response 

Shayne allowed a small smile as he shook her hand. How far she had come. And how far yet would she go? 

 As Lieutenant Michaels left the stage, Shayne had to quirk his lips so that his smile wouldn’t run amok. 

Shayne: Lieutenant JG Ras El’Heem! 

The applause died slowly, but in its place a high murmur echoed through the holodeck. Shayne listened closely. 

The fellow who lost a hand!

Good on him. 

That’s our mushroom man.

I wish I’d thought to lose a limb when I was a JG. 

Anybody want a peanut? 

Ras took to the stage, and Shayne stepped backwards, gesturing to Commander Ohnari. 

Ohnari: Response 

He handed her the box with the pip and grinned. 

Ohnari/Hobart/El’Heem: Response 

Shayne frowned after a moment. It was a little challenging to hear her. Was she okay? 

Ohnari/El’Heem/Hobart: Response 

Tag/TBC…

Captain Randal Shayne
Commanding Officer
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
G239202RS0