Those We Leave Behind (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 03 May 2024 @ 8:20pm by Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm & Commander Morgan Tarin & Commander Allyndra illm Warraquim & Commander Marisa Wyatt & Lieutenant JG Rafe Caradec & Lieutenant JG Serran & Lieutenant JG Delainey Carlisle & Lieutenant JG Montgomery Vala & Ensign Mimi & Ensign S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor & Lieutenant JG Vren Vral & Ensign Asha & Chief Warrant Officer 2 Oliver Sylver & Senior Chief Petty Officer Goldie Brown & Petty Officer 2nd Class Liam O'Connor & Petty Officer 3rd Class Jeysa Zeror & Petty Officer 3rd Class Helliun 'Hel' Inant & Master Chief Petty Officer Toren Vral

2,750 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay
Timeline: MD 04, 1550 hrs

Previously, on Those We Leave Behind (Part 1)...

With both Saalm and Luke at the funeral service, Marisa Wyatt had been ordered to stay on the bridge of the Galileo-B. She wanted to be with Luke, to hold his hand and say a final farewell, but she understood that she needed to be where she was. And so, to be present in spirit, she had part of the main viewscreen watching the shuttle bay so the bridge crew could also be a part of this time-honored service--if only from a distance.

Her heart ached for Mimi and Asha, for what they'd lost. And for what she could so easily lose at any time. Her eyes scanned the group, spotting Luke by the admiral. Just seeing him, knowing he was there and alive helped her relax a little. She was prepared to die, had been since she and Luke were recalled, but she was prepared to die beside him. She didn't know how she'd go on if she lost Luke after all these years together. She hoped she'd never have to find out.

Just before the time for the ceremony officially began, Marisa opened a ship-wide channel so the crew of the Galileo-B could listen to or watch the proceedings and, in this small way, pay their respects to John.

And Now, the Conclusion...

[ON]

USS Galileo-A - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay

After counting down the last few seconds till the assigned time arrived Jeysa raised the boatswain's whistle to her lips and sounded out a call that shrilled over the light gossip between the crews calling them all to attention.

The main shuttle bay's overhead lighting dimmed to approximately 30 percent luminosity as the formal ceremony began. At the head of the fallen petty officer's casket, Tarin stood stoically next to Saalm then took a step forward before addressing the room. "All hands, atten-TION!" her voice forcefully projected across the large hangar.

Serran, by force of habit, was already standing at parade rest, came to full attention, squaring his shoulders and standing a little taller.

Goldie stood at parade rest, her eyes now focused on the admiral and commander. She'd hopefully have a chance to find Mimi later and at least give her a hug.

Sera immediately complied with the order, shifting to a formal position with her left foot exactly 12 inches to the left of her right foot, resting her weight equally on both feet, clasping her hands behind her back (as she was unarmed.)

Allyndra shifted. "Here we go." She thought to herself.

Vala stood to attention, his green eyes locked forward, his mind plagued with thoughts of the sins of his kin.

Toren moved with absolute precision, standing in textbook parade rest. Rigid from toe to antennae, he remained utterly still awaiting the beginning of proceedings.

With precision Rafe heard both crews snap to attention on deck, himself included. His eyes forward, looking directly at Captain Tarin. Everyone knew this one was her first. It would not be her last. This one had to hurt bad. He must not think about it right now. He still had big fish to fry. But that could wait for now. Eyes forward, chin up.

Hel's features were neutral as she moved. She had a distinct hatred for the way this was done in Starfleet. Despite the respect it was meant to show, it always seemed hollow to her. But she realised that was a cultural difference. Her people would sing to the stars, retelling the life of the ones passed. This? This was a dance, executed stiffly, emotions buried so deep no one wished to acknowledge it could have been them.


USS Galileo-B - Deck 1, Bridge

The viewscreen on the bridge of the Galileo-B now showed the shuttle bay of the Galileo A as data from scans and system readouts scrolled along one side. As the lights on the other ship dimmed, Marisa signaled for the bridge crew to stand along with the others for the brief ceremony.

Vren glanced at the screen from his post. You were lucky to get a funeral since the war went sourth - the number of dead colleagues, friends... even family who had gone unmemorialised. Just names on lists read out at mass services... This event was a luxury put on for the crew of a ship out of its time. The ship that had started it all. It disgusted him, but it was a necessity to ensure they kept striving towards the mission's goal. Hopefully it was short so they could get back to work.


USS Galileo-A - Deck 4, Main Shuttlebay

Tarin's eyes surveyed those assembled and the sudden silence within the shuttlebay; a silence which somehow managed to permeate the room's darkness across the visual spectrum and into the soul. Her own crew were fully assembled and immaculate in their presentations while those standing across from Hollenday's coffin - serving aboard their future sister ship - also maintained the same standard of professionalism. The only difference aside from their uniforms was time. 17 years. Enough for sons and daughters to be born of past relationships and witness even more grief from losses such as this.

Galileo-A's tall captain looked down at her PADD and the short eulogy she'd prepared. She scanned it for less than a few seconds, for it was already memorized, then lowered it to her abdomen where she clasped one wrist over the other. She parted her lips to speak.

"We are assembled here to pay our final respects to our fallen shipmate, Petty Officer Hollenday," she began, her voice solemn yet professional in its inflection. "He was a fine NCO; a person of character and integrity who willingly gave the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty to allow us to complete our mission. His actions were selfless and of those expected from every Starfleet officer. He was a fine engineer. He was a friend to many, both past and future. He was a husband and a father. He was - and is...our hero, and a man who will live on with us in our memories forever."

When Tarin finished speaking then stepped back, Galileo-B's shorter emerald-skinned captain stepped forward. It was only appropriate for Saalm to participate in this eulogy, for the man's death had been under her own command. Specifically, under her own order. The rear admiral opened her mouth to speak then closed it. She'd prepared no speech. Such formalities were a tradition barely able to be honored during this time of war, but a quick glance over to the fallen man's daughter - one of her own engineers - reiterated the importance of the ceremony.

Saalm's light green eyes looked across the Galileo-A side of assembled crew. "I see many of you again and it has been difficult to process our reunion over the past days. Many of you remember me, and I remember many of you. I could never forget Petty Officer Hollenday. I wish," she paused then lightly shook her head to herself, "I know he will be remembered by each of you," she turned her head to look at her own -B crew, "and many of you. We have lost so many during this terrible war but for the first time we now have hope in a new future. Hollenday gave his life for this cause and with his help, we will be successful. Not only for us, here, but for our children and our children's children so we will never have to carry these scars again." The Orion shifted her eyes to the probe casket in the middle of the shuttlebay, "Thank you, John. Your sacrifice is eternal," she spoke in her native tongue before stepping back.

Commander Tarin tapped a short sequence into her PADD which initiated the opening of the shuttlebay's large external door. Several loud repeating klaxons reverberated across the walls within the primary support craft bay while the hangar's departure hatch slowly parted and presented a beautiful clear view of the Pleiades Cluster's deep black and nebula-spotted background to everyone in attendance. She lifted her chin again then gave the next ceremonial command, "Order!"

Sera demonstrated the appropriate movements; sharply turning her chin to look towards the probe casing's final destination.

Using the same muscle memory she had used to shift into parade rest, Carlisle turned her head on command to look out into space. It was only then the emotional weight of what she was doing and why she was there began to hit her. Up until that moment, she had been in crisis mode, mentally and physically responding to what was before her. Plan for this crisis, read this report, put on this uniform, show up at this place, move your body this way, turn your attention here… Now, just breathe, and try to keep it together.

Toren's head moved crisply to face the hatch, a respectful neutrality gracing his features. He'd gotten mostly used to death long ago, but it was never easy to see the departure of one who'd be alive if they'd chosen another line o' work.

Goldie's eyes kept going back to Mimi and Asha, but now she turned them to the hatch to bid John a final farewell.

Serran's eyes shifted to the right to look into the vastness of space. He focused his attention there, before closing his eyes in meditation.

Liam stood quietly at the front of the shuttle bay, the weight of the bagpipes in his arms a tangible reminder of the somber occasion on the order he looked to the left towards space. With a deep breath, he began to play the melody of "Amazing Grace," his fingers navigating the pipes to create a vocal painting of mournful yet celebratory notes. Liam's adaptation of the melody added a unique depth to the familiar tune, infusing it with a sense of reverence and gratitude for the lives that had been lived.

With each mournful wail of the pipes, memories of fallen comrades echoed through his mind, wit each breath and press of the bag he hoped to lift their spirits by the bittersweet melody that celebrated both the sorrow of loss and the joy of cherished memories. And as the final notes faded into the stillness of the shuttle bay, a sense of peace settled over the solemn gathering, a testament to the power of music to heal and to honor the lives of those who had passed.

The shuttlebay's starboard docking tractor beam which had activated to lift Hollenday's flag-draped probe casing from its pedestal slowly finished pulling the makeshift coffin out toward the exposed hatch. The large forcefield briefly shimmered when the casket passed through the boundary then became the property of the cosmos; floating free in the vacuum of space with enough gentle velocity to carry it away from Galileo. Many long seconds of silence passed while the object slowly disappeared from view, and with it, the final vestiges of the deceased engineering officer.

Both Mimi and Asha visibly cringed but tried their hardest not to cover their ears; the whine of bagpipes gave mixed reactions to most people who heard it but to a species with as sensitive hearing as theirs the noise was almost torture but it did provide cover as both were also struggling not to cry.

Sera did not realize it, but she was experiencing the same type of auditory discomfort as Mimi and Asha. Terran musical instruments could be quite torturous to those with far superior hearing. She grit her teeth in hope that the increased tension would somehow reduce the vibratory response within her inner ear but she was unfortunately disappointed. There was nothing else to do but to stoically endure.

Allyndra schooled her face to avoid betraying her feelings and reaction. Like a few others, she found the dissonance annoying.

Sylver stood there, like all the others. His face was neutral with the experience of someone who had attended too many of these to count. The familiarity was oddly disconcerting. Inside, he gave a small prayer for their fallen comrades, past and present.

The wails of the instrument always reminded Vala of the many fluted Jolanar of his homeworld. It was... aptly haunting. "Nn’iekha," he said under his breath, as the body departed, "May the Elements guide you across the Sundered Plains to the fires of your forefathers."

Situated next to her sister ship's commanding officer, Tarin watched Hollenday's probe coffin depart toward whatever future place existed for him in the non-corporeal afterlife. If such a place existed. She subtly bit down on her lower lip with her top two central incisors while struggling with her own feelings of remorse and dreading the communication she would eventually have to send to his next of kin informing them of his passing. For now, however, she inhaled a sharp and curt breath then looked back to her PADD and tapped it to begin the closure of the shuttlebay's doors. Another distinctive series of loud echoing klaxons reverberated through the large hangar before the bay became sealed once more.

"At ease," Tarin ordered to all those in attendance. "We'll always remember Petty Officer Hollenday and now it's our duty to make sure his death wasn't in vain. The Romulans know where we are now and decided to disengage and escape, most likely to report our position to their other forces. We still have work to do and Galileo-B needs time to repair the damage to their warp reactor system they sustained during the battle. I wish I could give all of you respite but it's time to return to our duty stations. Additional orders will follow shortly." She then turned her head to Saalm to afford her the chance to speak more, "Admiral?"

The Orion captain's black and skunked hair bobbed slightly across her shoulders when she shook her head. "No. That is all for now. All Galileo-B crew, dismissed. Report back to the ship immediately."

Tarin followed suit after sensing the subtle urgency of time in the rear admiral's posture and curt words. "All Galileo-A crew, dismissed."

Goldie wasn't part of the Galileo-A crew, but she considered herself dismissed. Subdued, she slowly filed out behind the others.

Rafe did an about face and walked as quickly as etiquette would allow. He needed to see how he could change the past without raising suspicions. Although, he had no idea how.

Vala glanced over to the section of the A's engineers and saw Sera. An odd desire to go and reassure her flittered across his mind, quickly banished. Vulcans were stoic people and they did not appreciate such affirmations. In public at least. He turned from his spot and walked back towards the labs.

Toren caught Tarin's eye and gave a small nod. These services were never easy, and she had done well. He now had to see about making sure that the last moments of John Hollenday were properly accounted for, and that those who needed to reflect were appropriately reflectin'. There were no cogs in this machine, just people doing their duty. He gave Katja a slightly knowing look, then proceeded out of the shuttle bay.


USS Galileo-B - Deck 1, Bridge

Marisa watched the viewscreen a the coffin floated out of sight, her thoughts on what she remembered about John from her time on the Galileo-A and what had transpired since pulling the ship forward. But mostly, she thought about Mimi and Asha. She couldn't imagine what they were going through, and hoped desperately that if she or Luke had to die in combat, they would die together.

When the shuttlebay doors finally closed and the crew on the Galileo-A began to disperse, she closed the channel and remained standing for a moment of silence. Then she slowly let out her breath and went back to work.

Vren didn't even glance up. His mother, father, sister, friends, superiors, millions of Andorians, humans, Vulcans... This was just another corpse on the pile.

[OFF]

--

USS Galileo-A Crew
Various characters and PNPCs

CMDR Marisa Wyatt
Chief Science Officer/Second Officer
USS Galileo-B

LTJG Vren Vral
Operations Officer
USS Galileo-B
[PNPC Vala]

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