Remembering those for whom history may yet forget...
Posted on Mon May 9th, 2011 @ 5:53pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant Colonel Anastasia DeVries & Lieutenant Xishaal Idrani & Lieutenant Xylia Lischka & Lieutenant JG Matthew April
Mission:
Shore Leave 2; Picking Up the Pieces
Location: Various
Timeline: After 'Decisive Action'
Commodore's Log; Stardate 63854.9...
We've been traveling at Impulse for nearly a day now, and though we've put some distance between ourselves and the battlefield, I still can't shake the feeling that the crew is still in bad shape. The roster of incapacitated has dwindled, I think we have just shy of fifty people left in sickbay, convalescing. Everyone else that can stand, hold a tool, and use a console has been released. While I don't particularly agree with that, I don't have a lot of choice in the matter.
We're forgoing our scheduled stop at Deep Space 10, since the USS Casey has been kind enough to loan us a good compliment of engineering and medical staff to speed up our recovery. Thanks to my foresight, we had a great deal of additional stores aboard. Not everything we stocked up on made it, but the things that did went a long way toward bringing us back to right. The Engineering Staff, headed up by one of the Casey's engineering officers... some Lieutenant Commander, has made repairing the nacelles and EPS conduits their top priority. We've already had to make several adjustments to the ship's clock, which just goes to show that relativistic travel is already taking its toll.
I've made it a priority to address the most pressing issue facing the crew right now. That being, the loss of so many of our companions, our shipmates, our friends... I've made arrangements to hold funeral services in a few hours. Not everyone can attend, but I believe there will be a large enough compliment of mourners that it will be worth while.
Commodore Nathan Cowell sat back in his Ready Room chair. He hadn't really slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't changed his uniform since the battle had concluded. Had Lieutenant Marion seen him in such a sorry state, she would have likely chewed him right properly and rectified his oversights. And that's just what they were, oversights at this point. He'd overlooked his own needs to deal with the even more pressing matters that surrounded him. Half his crew was dead or nearly so, the rest were demoralized and over-worked. If there was some remedy that would have cured all those ills in one go, Nathan hadn't a clue what it was. And despite everything that had happened, he knew that he couldn't let slip his vainer of strength. He couldn't let a single man or woman on the ship know that it was affecting him...
The old man pushed himself away from his desk and stood, weariness assaulting his head for a moment, causing the room to start moving around him in a most unsettling manner. He steadied himself for a moment and when he was able, made for the replicator. Thankfully, the Operations department had managed to salvage most of the replicator matter and had gotten the system itself up not long after they had stabilized the life support systems and got most of their power generators back on line. He demanded a fresh uniform and towels before trudging into his private bathroom within the office to take the first shower after the chaos.
Nathan spent a good deal more time in there than he'd intended, but the water seemed to have the dual effect of washing both the grim and blood from his skin as well as he weariness. While it was only fleeting and trivial, the El-Aurian savored the feeling for as long as he could before abandoning it for his uniform that was laying in wait for him. He took his time dressing, to make sure the uniform looked sharp... After all, he had to protect the integrity of the people he was about to represent.
=Main Shuttle bay, Deck 9, USS Arizona=
Doc Cowell stepped through the doors to find a score of people already gathered, as well as a score more of coffins that had been replicated and filled with the bodies of the dearly departed. Nathan took a second to soak it all up; the faces of those who had gathered, the coffins that bore the names of those who had given their lives for others, the flags that were draped over each one, representative not of the Federation, but the worlds that each and every person who had died had come from. A fitting tribute...
Nathan tore himself away from the view and walked toward the rear of the bay, which held a small, makeshift raised platform and a podium from which Nathan would make his speech. As he passed between the coffins, the old man paid special attention to the names. Even if he didn't remember them tomorrow, he wanted to know them today. The last coffin, occupying a place of prominence at the front of the gathered cluster of fallen, was occupied by the ship's First Officer, his pod draped in both the Earth flag as well as the Starfleet Flag. Nathan's hand unconsciously reached out and his fingertips slid along the exposed surface of it. Once he was clear, he mounted the platform and waited for the appointed time, which was a good ten or so minutes away...
Ensign Marcus Schenk stopped outside the doors of the Main Shuttle bay and took a breath. After his dream, wasn't too sure how he felt about attending a funeral, but he wasn't about to let that stop him from paying his respects to his fellow officers and crew members who had given their life in service to the Arizona. The list was long and he had known some of them better than others, but he had served side by side with them and was honored to have to have done so.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the Shuttle bay, his uniform spotless and sharp, his brown hair freshly cut to regulation, and his brown eyes filled with sadness that threatened to turn into tears. Acknowledging the Commodore, he swallowed as he looked at the coffins and wondered who rested in each one. He shuddered, but not out of disgust, but out of the knowledge that he could have been in one of them. Strengthening himself mentally, he looked around for who else was present and went to take a seat.
Lieutenant Xylia Lischka made her way through the corridor with a heavy heart, her destination, shuttle bay. The last time she came this way, it was for a totally different purpose. A sad purpose, but not nearly as sad as the one they were currently facing. Yes, there was death on board the MT Hawl, but this was just a bit different. These were people she served with, albeit for a short time, but that was irrelevant at the moment. No matter how well, or not, she knew them, coming to pay her last respects to the fallen was the right thing to do.
She stopped outside the door and drew in a shaky breath. Why was she lucky enough to survive when so many others weren't? It just didn't seem fair. But then, life wasn't fair. On the other side of that door laid the body of a man she spent more time with than anyone knew about. A man who knew her better than anyone on board the ship, and now... he was gone. The reality of that fact brought tears to her eyes, but she would not bring herself to cry. So, instead, she took another deep breath and moved inside, trying to avoid looking at that one coffin that stood out from the rest.
Xishaal stood in the corner of the shuttle bay, partially obscured by a stack of containers, she personally saw to the maneuvering of the shuttles and supervised the set up for the services. They were her birds and her responsibility. When she observed the Commodore, affectionately referred to as "old man" enter and take the podium, she saw the weight of the entire universe reflected in his eyes. A few moments later, an Ensign entered, she hadn't been formally introduced to the young man yet and now wasn't the time for pleasant introductions either. He too had the same somber look upon his face as the CO mixed with a look of... fear or was it hesitation? Xishaal thankfully just happened to not be on the bridge and so was spared the kind of injuries that claimed so many of her crew. The ship, now a battered and near empty shell of her former self limped back to port.
The doors to the bay opened as Xishaal stepped from rear of the bay to approach the front of the room to take a seat. Lieutenant Junior Grade Lischka, her face full of despair and loss. Xishaal had heard rumors about Commander Roberts, looking at the response to his death, she wondered if there was some truth to them or was it simply a matter of his being so well liked on board the ship.
Xishaal fell in step a few paces behind Lischka as she purposefully tried to avoid looking at anything and anyone. "..Lee-shi-ka..." Xishaal breathed softly as she came up beside the woman "...come girl, sit here.." she offered, taking her gently but firmly by her elbow to guide her to a seat. "...they will all be missed, some more than others.."
Lischka paused and looked up at the woman who took hold of her elbow. She had absolutely no intentions of fighting against the taller woman, and at the moment, she could use someone to help distract her. Though, when they reached their destination, she didn't take the offered seat. She opted to stand, trying to keep the rows of coffins out of her live of vision until it was absolutely necessary to give them her full attention. And so, she stood silently, eyes averted and downcast.
Seeing the Lieutenant choice to remain standing, Xishaal rose from her chair, standing next to the woman. Her antennae slowly rising from her skull, instantly picking up a wealth of information from those around her; sadness, revulsion, despair, anger. Xishaal concentrated on trying to block out the wealth of sensory information she was reading in a room rapidly filling up with bereaved crewmen. Not knowing what exactly to say, she leaned in close and whispered "....stay strong Lieutenant Lee-shi-ka.." before straightening up, ready to offer a steady hand or a warm smile if needed, even if uncharacteristic.
Marc turned his head away from the flag-covered coffins, shaking himself out of his thoughts as he heard the door to the Shuttle bay open. Seeing his Deputy Chief coming in, he wondered at the look on her face; she looked even worse than he felt. Then again, she had served longer with some of these people and had made more friends than him. Sighing, he was about to turn back around when he saw the taller woman that he had never met come in and take Lieutenant Lischka's elbow and lead her to a seat.
Perhaps the look on her face was due to the recent injury that she had taken; he had aided Doc Cowell in fixing her up. It had been a nasty wound and he was surprised that she was up again so soon. Giving her a nod of recognition, he turned back to the front and focused on a spot on the wall.
Matt stood in the large crowd of people. A stern look had covered his face, perhaps it was due to the injury he sustained after the battle, perhaps it was due to the loss of so many people. Whatever it was, his face wasn't betraying it. He stared at the coffin nearest to him, it was the coffin of Ensign Kunstler, the man whom he lost during the recovery operation. He was the first man he had ever lost under his command, they say it never gets any easier.
With Commodore Amanda K. Pike on one side and 1st Lieutenant Lukas S. DeVries on the other, the partially blinded Major Stace S. DeVries made little time for pleasantries as she took her own place amongst the gathered crowd. Though she would not outwardly show her emotion the deaths of those she could not save weighed heavy on her heart. Eventually over time their faces too would blur out of her memory... replaced only by their name and how they died. At least those would never be forgotten.
Commodore Cowell waited for the gathered people to settle into the seats provided before he cleared his throat and stepped up to the podium completely. He placed his hands on either side of the piece of furniture, just as much for effect as for stability, and began the speech he had been rolling over in his head.
"Good afternoon," Nathan began, more as a test of his voice than a true greeting, "We are gathered here today in response to an event that has shaken our lives. We stand together today because of the self-sacrifice of the men and women arrayed before us now."
Nathan paused for a moment before continuing, "These fellow shipmates of ours, these friends, these comrades... They paid the ultimate price in the service of the Federation... In the service of Starfleet... In the service of the Arizona. These brave souls who now rest before your eyes have given their lives to ensure that each of you who remain can live on. They sacrificed loved ones, families, friendships, a future... because it was the right thing to do for the good of everyone."
The Commodore paused and swept his unblinking gaze over the faces of the gathered before yet again speaking, "In these trying times, it is easy for us to reflect upon these moments, these incidences, and delve into the pits of despair and wallow in self-pity and regret. It is even easier now to lose sight of what is important, what is right in front of you. I'm sure some of you have already begun to feel the tug of hopelessness, of powerlessness at the hands of a fate you cannot change."
It was obvious to the old man that many of the people gathered were feeling exactly what he was talking about. He could see dejection and pain rippling through their facades, constantly threatening their composure and their very sanity. He felt for each and every one of them...
"I know it is hard... I know that I've already asked a great deal of you all... I can see it on your faces, in your voices... in the mirror... We're all at the brink of collapse, on the verge of insanity as we all struggle in our own way to face the demons staring us in the face. Each of you carries the weight of what has happened to this crew," Nathan said, reaching out to the crowd with an extended finger for emphasis, "Each of you has a burden to bare, regrets to contend with, remorse for those that lay before us today. Each of you will have to come to terms with it in your way, in your own time... But I implore you here and now... Don't do it alone."
Nathan slammed his hand against the podium, startling some of the people who had become hypnotized by his voice, "We were victorious because we stood together as one crew, one ship, united to bring the swift and terrible justice upon our enemies they so rightly deserved! Now we must again stand as one and put our lives back together again! And we must do this together!"
The Commodore stepped away from the podium, and stepped down the platform to stand beside the coffin of Lieutenant Commander Aiden Roberts, "I stand before a hero. I stand before a man who made an impact on my life here. I stand before the body of a man who, despite all his antics and efforts to the contrary, became part of the heart and soul of this ship. I stand before a fallen brother who... if history has her way... will be forgotten in time, his deeds today lost to obscurity when there are none left to remember him. I stand before this man and I make a pledge to both his memory and to all of you that I will never forget for as long as I shall live what he meant to me... to us... to the Federation. I make this promise because I know the fickle nature of history. I know how easily a great man can be forgotten, and how the worst among us can be remembered for all of time."
Nathan moved to each and every casket arrayed before him and the mourners and made a different speech for them, some shorter, some longer, but he took the time to recognize everyone, even the ones that were only being represented by an empty casket. When it was all said and done, Nathan nodded to two members of the Flight deck crew and they quickly moved the platform and podium away. Once it was done, the Commodore and everyone who had been standing behind him moved toward the front of the bay. Once they were all clear, a force field popped to life just along the outer most perimeter of the rows of coffins, separating the living from the dead... and the void of space beyond.
"We give these fallen shipmates to the void of space, that they might return to the beginning... perhaps to rejoin us at the end of time..." Nathan said soberly. As he spoke those words, the force field at the end of the shuttle bay disappeared, leaving nothing but the vacuum of space. The coffin at first resisted the pull, but soon, one by one, until none remained... they all disappeared into the void...