Ensign Ryden Tarus Kel - The Ceremony Begins.

[Ryden Kel]

((The I’vish Gallery, Shi’Kahr District, Starbase 118))

Ryden watched as Wyn Foster drew in a breath and stepped up to the podium, the lights catching his features. For a fleeting moment, Ryden caught the look of relief on Wyn’s face... relief that the podium wasn’t too tall for him. Somehow, that small detail made the whole moment feel more approachable, more like Wyn.

Foster: Now, bear with me for a moment, because I have a few awards to hand out…

Any: ?

Ryden leaned forward slightly, curious who would be called first.

Foster: I was asked by Commodore Taybrim to tend to a few milestone awards, to recognize the ongoing excellent work of some of our experienced crew members. So, if Corey Wethern could join me?

Wethern: ?

Wyn produced a small ribbon box, setting it carefully on the podium. The way he spoke about Wethern was warm and confident, carrying the weight of someone who truly respected him. Ryden had seen the same qualities himself... Corey was steady, dependable, the sort of CMO who held sickbay together no matter what was thrown at it.

Foster: Doctor Wethern, I know perhaps better than anyone else on this station besides yourself how important the role of chief medical officer is. You have grown into the role amazingly well and taken care of your sickbay, your friends and your crew with the tenacity I would expect from the best of Starfleet. For continued service as a department head, you are awarded the Department Chief Ribbon!

Wethern: ?

Kel: Well deserved, Corey!

Any: ?

Foster: And, personally, from me to you - thank you for taking care of sickbay.

The grin that crossed Wyn’s face was full of pride, and Ryden could tell it came from the heart.

Wethern: ?

Any: ?

Foster: Lieutenant Willow, if you could join me?

Willow: ?

Wyn shifted seamlessly to the next award, his tone turning firm but equally warm. Ryden thought about how much weight Willow carried as chief of Security on a base this size—it was staggering. Yet she had handled it with calm leadership. Wyn’s words weren’t empty ceremony; they were earned praise.

Foster: Lieutenant Willow, serving as the chief of Security on a StarBase of this size is a mindboggling task. I remember when Commander Fairhug asked me if I felt you were up to the task and I wholeheartedly said yes. I’m glad I did – you have done an incredible job leading the security teams, and keeping our crew and our station safe. For continued service as a department head, you are also awarded the department chief ribbon.

Willow: ?

Any: ?

Foster: And thank you, Willow, for being one of the most pleasant and easiest to work with security chiefs I have ever met. It’s easier to keep everyone safe when everyone can work together and you’re an integral part of that!

Willow: ?

Any: ?

Then Wyn shifted again, fidgeting with his feet before bringing out not just a ribbon, but a bottle and a folded sheet of paper. Ryden felt the mood change instantly. This one was different. This one carried weight.

Foster: Director McLaren, if you could please join me?

McLaren: ?

Wyn unfolded the paper carefully, holding it under the light. When he explained what it was, the room stilled. A handwritten note from Commodore Taybrim. That alone was enough to command every ear in the gallery.

Foster: I’m sorry, but I’m just going to read this actual real live handwritten message from Commodore Taybrim himself, because there’s nothing that I can say that could top this…

Any: ?

As Wyn read the words aloud, Ryden felt the weight of history settling in. The message was raw and honest, recounting dangerous years, corruption rooted out, and times when the station had been on the edge of chaos. And through it all, it was McLaren who had kept things steady, who had carried the burden when others could not.

The Commodore’s words were personal, full of gratitude and admiration, and Wyn delivered them with quiet respect. Ryden could almost hear Taybrim’s voice behind the words, as though he were in the room with them.

When Wyn finally added his own line—

Foster: And uh, personally – I think you’re pretty cool, too.

laughter broke across the gallery, easing the heavy moment without lessening it. Ryden laughed too, struck by Wyn’s ability to bring warmth to something so solemn. He watched Sol accept the ribbon and the bottle—an aged Earth whiskey—with quiet dignity, and Wyn’s fond expression made it clear just how much their bond meant.

McLaren: Thank you, Wyn.

Any: ?

Wyn drew in a breath, looking back out at the gathered crew.

Foster: Anyways, that’s all I got! Thanks for letting me ramble, and congratulations everyone!

Any: ?

The applause that followed was strong, reverberating through the gallery. Not just polite acknowledgment, but something deeper. Pride. Respect. Ryden clapped until his palms stung, grateful to be here, to see these moments, to witness the people who held StarBase 118 together being recognized for exactly what they were... leaders who had earned it.

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Ensign Ryden Tarus Kel

Medical Officer

StarBase 118 Ops

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