A Private Year End Tribute

Posted on Thu Jan 1st, 2026 @ 11:22am by Lieutenant JG Camryn Shepard & Cadet Freshman Grade Gracelyn Shepard
Edited on on Thu Jan 1st, 2026 @ 1:50pm

Mission: Season 6: Episode 6: Conglomerate
Location: Promenade, Holodeck 10
Timeline: EOY, (End of the Year)
1693 words - 3.4 OF Standard Post Measure

Light, airy music drifted through the softly lit room, carrying a quiet hint of Christmas and New Year's vibe. The small, rectangular room appeared festive, with Christmas decorations and "New Year's" in big letters. The decorated tree sat on the counter. Not big. Not too small. Just the perfect size, filled to the brim with colorful decorations and the kind of personal mementos only family would recognize. Strings of popcorn, string lights, and cut-out paper were wrapped around the tree. A simple, geometric topper rested at the top of the tree, reflecting the light.

A holodeck archway appeared as the door opened. Camryn entered with her daughter, Grace. She wore her engineering cadet uniform while her mother wore the usual engineering uniform. Their height difference appeared noticeable, with Cam being three inches taller. However, Grace appeared bulkier, more muscular than Cam. She stopped before the festive tree on the counter. Crossing her solid arms, she studied the tree. Behind her, Cam looked around the room as the holodeck door closed, the arch disappearing.

"Grace," she spoke, looking at her daughter.

Grace grunted, not reacting to her. Keeping her arms crossed, she huffed gruffly. More Klingon than El Aurian, she portrayed the gruffness of her blended hybrid heritage. Cam sighed, staying quiet. Light music floated in the air as she walked past several empty tables. On the tables were lit candles, illuminating the quiet cadence of the holiday song. The flames flickered, crackling as the holo projectors made them feel alive. Touching the chair, she wiped the holographic dust with her finger, a small detail she added to make the holiday program feel real.

Passing Grace, Cam touched her back and her shoulders. Squeezing it, she smiled softly, watching her. Grace grunted softly, rolling her shoulders back to brush her hand off. She kept her focus on the twinkling Christmas tree, keeping her arms folded across her broad chest. Cam sighed, feeling dejected by her aloofness. Approaching the counter, she touched the end of it and pivoted her body around it. Entering the small kitchen, she pulled out two wine glasses and a bottle of synthetic alcohol. Uncorking the bottle with her hand, her upper arm muscular strength popped the glass. She poured the red liquor into two glasses.

"Grace, come here. Please," Cam spoke, picking up two glasses of wine and offering her the glass.

Grace grunted, breaking her concentration on the tree, and looked at her mother. Sighing, she unlocked her arms and approached the stool. Accepting the wine glass, she sat on the chair and studied the glass of wine. Cam watched her, sadly. Concerned. Looking up, she noted the twinkling lights. It floated in the holodeck program as if anchored by an invisible thread. She exhaled, drifting her focus back at her daughter, "Let's make a toast, Grace."

"To what?" Grace broke her silence with an abrupt, gruff tone.

Ignoring her gruffness, Cam blew a heavy sigh, shrugging her shoulders, "To anything. Your academic studies. What you accomplished. What are you thankful for? Anything, Grace, help me out here? What stands out?"

Grace sighed, hesitating. Moving her glass of wine around, she moved it down on the counter and fidgeted quietly. Rolling her eyes upward, she replied, "I made new friends. Presented an engineering brief. Finished a small project."

Cam smiled, leaning on the counter while crossing her arms and holding the glass with one hand. The counter creaked as she leaned forward, "That sounds excellent. What was the project about?"

After gathering her thoughts, she replied, "An integration project between a warp plasma conduit and the corridor's power junction."

Placing the glass on the counter, Cam kept her arms crossed on the surface and inquired, smiling, "Oooh, interesting. What's it about?"

Grace grunted, shaking her head, replying, "Why should I tell you? You weren't there when I presented it."

"Grace..." Cam tried to speak as Grace shut down immediately. She added, "I'm sorry. I should have-."

She shook her head, "Save it. Work was more important than my little projects."

"Grace!" Cam sighed as their eyes met. Grace appeared angrier, but silently, while holding back her emotions. Cam gulped, replying, "I should have been there. You are important to me. I am trying, so please, let me in."

Grace studied her mother's face. Before she could respond, the Christmas tree flickered as well as the room. The program started to fluctuate. The candle lights dimmed, the music jolted abruptly, and the floating lights shimmered. Cam's expression turned to annoyance as she looked around. Grace moved back slightly as the counter started to shimmer. It, however, returned to solid as the program tried to recalibrate.

Automatically locked into engineer mode, Cam walked over to the small panel below the kitchen counter. Pulling out the panel, she studied the inner wiring and the isolinear chips. Grace placed her glass on the solid counter and crossed her arms, leaning against it. It creaked as she watched her mother. "Mom," she spoke.

"Hmm, what is it?" Cam replied, studying the problem in the panel. She pulled out an isolinear chip, replaced it with another chip. Pulling out a colored wire, she replaced it with another one.

"Why are we here? Aren't you supposed to be working at a deck somewhere, repairing?"

Focused on her task, Cam pulled out her tricorder and scanned the panel. Tapping on the readout, she looked around the room as the program stopped fluctuating. The Christmas tree returned. The music resumed as before. Even the floating lights ceased shimmering. Turning to Grace, she replied, "Because this was the day he disappeared. Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" Grace shook her head. Her eyes narrowed as she processed, "Dad? The day he abandoned us? No. I tried to forget."

"Grace," Cam sighed, interrupted by her daughter's gruffness. Shaking her head, she tapped her combadge, "Computer, log the repair in a report to the chief."

The computer beeped, logging her voice with her identification in the report. Cam stood, turning towards her, "Don't do this. He didn't abandon us. He just vanished. Disappeared."

"Mom," Grace replied, trying to soften her gruffness, but spoke with a slightly harsh tone, "Let's not argue, okay? He abandoned us, from my perspective. On Christmas Eve, as he tucked me into bed. I was five. You were there. Standing by that doorway. Sad. Hopeful, but sad. You told me this story, hoping it would make sense. Somehow. But here's the truth you won't accept. On Christmas morning, he never came back. No good mornings. Nothing. He's just gone. Disappeared. Vanished. He abandoned us, Mom. Why can't you understand? And then, you just slowly vanished, too."

Cam sighed, listening to her. Grace continued, “You buried yourself in your work, trying somehow to find him. I was six when you just started to disappear. Uncle Korex of the house of Ra'an came to visit. He looked after me while you went off to your Starfleet duty. You just forgot-"

"Grace!" Cam half shouted.

Grace gripped her fist and rammed it on the counter. The tremor silenced Cam and shook everything on it as Grace yelled, "No, mom! You just left. Left him to take care of me. He told me stories. Taught me. Gave me structure. Showed me what it's like to be Klingon."

Cam looked at her and bit her lips, shaking her head. She replied, "I'm sorry, Grace."

Grace scowled at her with anger. Simmering. Letting it cool down, she shook her head, "No, mom. If this is your attempt at reconciliation, that ship has sailed."

Grace stopped speaking and instead channeled her simmering anger at a glass in front of her. Crossing her arms again, she leaned forward and studied it. They haven't toasted yet.

Cam studied her daughter with concern. Time passed as the soft music continued. She exhaled, speaking, "Grace. Listen. No amount of apology will make this right. I know it was wrong of me to leave. I hear you. So, I promise you, I will do better. I will be there for you. Whatever you do. The school projects you worked so hard on. An open ear to listen and resolve your issues. Whatever you need, I will be there. I promise. Please, Grace."

Grace paused, exhaled slowly with anger. She moved her eyes toward Cam without moving her head. Slowly, her head moved to give her the full attention. She spoke, "This is it, Mom. This is the last time. You want to change? Be available, for once in your long lifetime. Be present. Our lives might be long, but pain lingers. It won't just go away. No amount of fixing us will repair what's already broken."

"Grace," Cam smiled, hopeful, "I won't hide. I will be there for you. With you. I love you."

They looked at each other in their eyes, their emotive pupils staring at each other. One who loves and one who is angry. Cam spoke, "Let's toast, Grace. To our loved ones. To your father. To my husband."

Grace picked up her glass, her tongue pressing against her sharp fang. She replied, "To trying. I'm not ready to forgive you, but I'm willing to keep talking. To not running away."

Cam smiled, lifting her glass an inch higher, "To the ones we lost and the ones who carry the memory. To the families who keep going. To him."

Their glasses clinked. Taking their moment in silence, they drank their wine. As Cam put the glass down, she watched Grace leave without a second glance and exit the holodeck. The door closed behind her, leaving Cam alone in her sadness. Exhaling, she watched everything in her program in silence, including the soft music in the background. Stepping around from the counter, she replied, "Computer, save and end program."

The holodeck beeped as her program shut down. She turned toward the exit as the door opened a moment later, with Grace coming back in through the doorway to hug her. Caught off guard, Cam smiled, accepting her first hug in years. Not wanting to break it, she tightened the squeeze, allowing the moment to last a bit longer.