[Repost] [USS Arawyn] Fractured Accord - A Weight Shared
Posted on Sun Aug 24th, 2025 @ 8:54pm by Vice Admiral Sidra MacLaren
820 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Second Light
Location: USS Arawyn
Timeline: 242508.24
=/\= Spacedock – Observation Gantry =/\=
Vice Admiral Sidra MacLaren stood at the fore of the viewing platform, the wide expanse of transparent aluminum framing the Sovereign-class starship beyond. The USS Arawyn gleamed under the floodlights, every line precise, her nameplate catching the light like a promise.
The gallery behind her was full: officers in dress uniforms, shipyard workers, civilians with ties to the crew. She noted Admiral Hawk’s familiar height among them, and Suzanna Blokpoel’s composed stillness. Then, a detail that drew her attention: Trael Bren. He had yet to report in, and yet there he was, standing quietly among the witnesses. Sidra shelved the thought with practiced discipline. Later. Not now.
Closer to the dais, Captain Sabrina Corbin and her command staff stood assembled. The crew’s faces carried the mixture she had seen many times before: pride, anticipation, nerves. They would be the life of the ship, but tonight they were here to witness her birth.
Sidra gave the signal, and a young woman stepped forward. The daughter of the late chief engineer carried the ceremonial bottle with careful hands. When she spoke, her voice was steady, carrying clearly across the chamber.
“For my father, and for all who built her: may this ship sail true. I christen thee USS Arawyn. May she serve with honor and distinction.”
The bottle struck the bow and shattered in a clean burst of light, champagne sparkling briefly before dissipating into the void. Applause rose in a wave, filling the gantry, while the registry lights along Arawyn’s hull flickered to life in sequence. She was no longer just metal and circuits. She was alive.
Sidra let the applause fade before she stepped forward.
“Commissioning a starship is never routine. Each one represents years of effort, resources, and trust. But above all, each one represents lives. The Arawyn will carry hundreds of them into the unknown, and that is a responsibility none of us should take lightly.
This ship is more than her specifications. She will be called to act in crisis, to stand in defense, to chart the unmarked. And the decisions made aboard her will ripple outward, shaping more than just the lives of her crew.
Every officer here wears the uniform not for themselves, but for the Federation and its citizens. With that comes the burden of discipline, of vigilance, and of resolve. I know this crew is prepared to carry it.
Captain Corbin, today, this command becomes yours. The Arawyn will demand your judgment, your steadiness, and your faith in the people under you. She will test you. And she will reward you with what few experiences in life can match: the honor of leading explorers into the stars.
To all assembled, remember this moment. Not because of the ceremony, not because of the speeches, but because of the responsibility that begins here. It is heavy. And it must be carried together.
By order of Starfleet Command, I hereby commission the USS Arawyn, NCC-94817, into active service. May she serve with distinction.”
Applause thundered again, more measured this time, carrying the weight of the words. Sidra let it pass, her expression still, her gaze locked on the ship beyond the viewport.
=/\= Ten Forward – USS Arawyn =/\=
Onboard, Ten Forward had been transformed. White linen, glassware, and the sweep of Spacedock beyond the windows gave the room the look of celebration. Sidra noted the faces, the pairings of conversation, the watchful way officers measured their new captain.
Stewards circulated with fluted glasses of champagne, catching the ambient light. Sidra accepted one with a brief nod, though the taste was not to her liking. She preferred the sharper clarity of Scotch, the honesty of coffee. But tonight was not about preferences; it was about ceremony. She would raise a glass with the rest.
Moving through the crowd with measured steps, she marked Hawk in conversation with Blokpoel, Bren standing apart but present, and the faces of the crew who would now serve aboard Arawyn. Inevitably, eyes found Captain Corbin and her officers, the true center of gravity.
When the moment was right, Sidra lifted her glass just high enough to draw attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Arawyn is no longer just a ship in Spacedock. She is commissioned, christened, and entrusted. That trust belongs now to her captain and her crew.”
Her gaze fixed on Sabrina Corbin. “Captain Corbin, the Arawyn is yours.”
A pause, deliberate and absolute. Then Sidra raised her glass, a sip taken for the sake of the moment, before she inclined her head and stepped back into the crowd. The weight of the room shifted at once, eyes turning to Corbin as the new voice of the ship.
Sidra folded her hands behind her back, silent now. The ship belonged to them. The laughter, the toasts, and the stories to follow would be for the Arawyn’s captain to tell.
VAdm Sidra MacLaren
Fleet Commander
Epsilon Fleet
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