Lt. Jg. Ryden Tarus Kel - Fireflies?

[Ryden Kel]

((Hong Kong District - Starbase 118)

Kel: So... fireworks and food. I’ll admit, Commander… you may be onto
something here.

Foster: I hope so! You need some rest and recuperation. We all do.

Kel: I might even call this preventative medicine.

Kel gave a small nod, the words settling more comfortably than he’d expected.

Foster: I would call that accurate.

Kel: Coming from you, I’ll take that as a professional endorsement.

At the end of the bazaar, the scent of citrus cut cleanly through the
lingering spices of street food. Lemonade... simple, sharp,
refreshingly ordinary. The waterfront opened up beyond the stand into
a dimly lit stretch of grass and beach overlooking the water. Across
the horizon, the bonfires of Little Risa flickered like scattered
stars, distant and lively in their own way.

Kel accepted the offered cup, lifting it slightly in return.

Foster: Well, here’s to following your own advice, Doctor.

Kel: To listening to it, too. That’s usually the harder part.

Foster: I think it was a fantastic choice. There’s a sort of peaceful calm here.

Kel let his gaze drift across the gathering crowd... people settling
onto blankets, claiming benches, sharing food and quiet conversation
as they waited. It felt communal without being overwhelming. Present,
without pressure.

Kel: Yeah… it’s just enough. Like you’re part of something without
having to perform for it.

Foster: I dunno, I have known my fair share of neuroscientists and
neurosurgeons in my day and they all tell me that you brain needs
rest. Not just sleep, but rest where you can just turn it off and not
dwell on anything. Just… watching something and let it wander.

Kel considered that, eyes following the slow movement of clouds over
the water, already faintly lit by the city glow.

Kel: That tracks. I’m very good at letting my mind wander—I’m just not
great at letting it stop working when it does.

Across the water, the lights from the distant districts shimmered,
stretching into reflections that blurred and reformed with each small
movement of the waves.

Foster: I guess to me they look like… fireflies. These luminescent
bugs that were nd my dad’s house on Earth. What do they look like to
you?

Kel followed the line of Foster’s gesture, thoughtful.

Kel: Lanterns. Floating ones. Like the kind people release during
remembrance ceremonies on Trill. Each light its own story… drifting,
overlapping, but never quite colliding.

He took a slow sip of lemonade, letting the quiet sit for a moment.

Kel: I guess that’s the nice thing about this view. It doesn’t ask
anything of you. It just… lets you look.

The air shifted subtly as the crowd’s chatter softened, anticipation
threading through the quiet. Ryden leaned back slightly, eyes still on
the water as the first distant thump echoed somewhere beyond the
horizon—more felt than heard.

Kel: You mentioned watching fireflies near your dad’s place on Earth.

He let the moment breathe, not rushing the thought.

Kel: What was it like? Where you grew up, I mean. Did it feel anything
like this… or is this a completely different kind of quiet for you?

Foster: ?

The reflections on the water trembled as another low sound rolled
through the night. Ryden glanced sideways, curious but unintrusive.

Kel: And when you actually manage to turn your brain off... really
turn it off... what does that look like for you?

Foster: ?

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, self-aware.

Kel: Because I’m starting to think everyone defines “rest” a little
differently. I’m not sure I’ve ever asked you what it means to you.

Foster: ?

He settled back again, gaze returning to the lights as the sky waited,
open and expectant.

Kel: So… what are you hoping tonight gives you, Commander?

Foster: ?


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Lieutenant JG Ryden Tarus Kel
Medical Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
O240109RK1