Memories of the Fallen

[kuran]

Rear Admiral Daniel Yakamura
Private Quarters, UNSCS Swift Vengeance
In low orbit over Luna
Three months prior to the Battle of Kholo

The glass tumbler hit the wall, shattering into crystalline shards and leaving a brown whiskey stain on the metal bulkhead. He didn't care. He kept pacing, back and forth in his cabin. Head down, hands folded behind his back in the posture that only comes from decades of military service.

He looked to his desk again. To the typed dispatch from FLEETCOM's personnel division.

EYES ONLY, REAR ADMIRAL YAKAMURA, DANIEL

Admiral the naval community wishes to express it's deepest condolences at the loss of your wife on-"

He picked up the sheet of paper, flinging it across the room. It landed on the edge of his bed, where he left it as he continued pacing. Eventually he sat down at his desk. He could have typed the letter. Dictated it even. He had an aide. But it felt better to write in the old fashioned way. Finding a pen, ironically, one she had given him some years before, he began to write.

My dearly beloved Kyoko,

I write knowing that you cannot read this. Perhaps where you are now, you will get it anyway. I have no notion of where I could even begin...

There is so much that I failed to do with us. We wanted children. To settle down somewhere and live out our years in peace. To simply live together. Everything seemed to prevent us. Then I, I failed so often that I hardly realized it until it was too late. I didn't write enough. Didn't take enough leave to be with you. I was always somewhere far away. When we were together I was distracted. I could never tell you how much I loved...no, how much I love you.

As you pass into the next life, my heart, shattered and broken as it is, goes with you. It was always yours, and always will be. I miss you, so much, and that will never change. As before I am and always will be devoted to you, your memory.

Yet I go to sleep at night. Do you remember when we said that we could feel each other in our sleep? That even across such distances that separated us physically, we could still go to sleep together? Try as I might....I feel nothing anymore. Not the warmth of your body, the scent of your skin, the taste of your lips. Nothing. I long beyond words for us to have that once more, though I know that nothing can bring you back to me, not in this life.

I will continue to live, though I will never forget. Knowing that you would want me to move on, but knowing that, at least now, I simply cannot. I will see you again one day, and I long for it with more emotion than I ever thought possible.

I remain yours, now and forever. Your true love, as you are mine.
Daniel

He folded the water-stained letter carefully, slipping it into a breast pocket.


------------------------

Staring at the casket, Daniel was, oddly enough, mostly still. His voice was hoarse, eyes red but dry. He stepped forward as it was lowered into the trench, reaching into his uniform. He set a letter carefully on top of the coffin before stepping back to the minimum safe distance as the coffin containing his wife was given final rights, and with a puff of compressed air, sent out into space. He watched through the viewport until the black box was no longer distinguishable from the blackness of space beyond. And continued staring.



(If any of you wish to post, feel free. It's a funeral, lots of people there.)

[Huka]

Captain Sage Tilman Pate IV
UNSC Swift Vengeance
In low orbit of Luna
Three months prior to the Battle of Kholo

Standing silently in the frontline of mourners, wearing his black uniform, decorated with medals, cap low enough to cast a shadow over his dark eyes, and his old saber on his waist, Captain Sage watched the rear admiral as he mourn and made a final goodbye to his beloved, and felt a old ache in his heart but set it aside.

The aging soldier was accustomed to death and knew it as a natural cycle of the universe's greater forces but he couldn't stand watch a veteran of this caliber be like this, it was sad. The corner of his mustache twitched but otherwise, he was a statue.

Watching the coffin of the admiral's wife vanish into the black void of space, he mentally prayed, "While your body enter the endless cosmos, may your soul find a comfortable peace, and shall it find eternal happiness of the other half rejoins with you."

Sniffing, the Captain remained in his stiff stance, awaiting for the Admiral to give word.

[Deleted]

Admiral Klix
UNSCS Swift Vengeance
In low orbit of Luna
Three months prior to the Battle of Kholo


The Admiral stood almost at attention as the casket containing one of his finest officers wife was sent out into the darkness of space. The Admiral flexed his jaw muscle and bit into his tongue, a habit he had since he was younger. Funerals got to him.

He noticed the Rear Admiral staring out the window. But the time wasn't right to approach a man who was watching his wife float away from him. No, it was time. "You know, Daniel. She'll always be in your heart." The Admiral said, as he stepped closer and clasped his hand over the Rear Admiral's left shoulder. His grip firm.

"Always remember her." The Admiral simply said. "Life's too short not too." The Admiral simply added, pulling out a picture from his chest pocket. His family, his wife and his son. His wife was killed but his son was alive and healthy.

The Admiral stepped back and gave the Rear Admiral a salute. His salute was perfect, a practiced salute he reserved for dedicated officers, and Daniel was one.

[SuperCommando]

"...Good. Status?"

Silas glanced around his armor's HUD. "Seals intact, oxygen supply and suit preassure are normal. All systems functioning. Commencing articulation tests."

The Spartan began to slowly and methodically move, bend, and twist. In the weightlessness of space, each action felt as effortless as being submerged in a pool but without the resistance of the water. His only restriction was the cable that connected him to the ship and supplied unlimited air.

"...Back arch... Check. Neck roll... Check. Articulation tests complete."

"Acknowledged zero-zero-nine. Almost done. Now maneuver around to the lateral side of the ship to observe EVA performance."

"Roger, moving."

He pushed forward with his legs using just enough force to escape his boots' magnetic grip and drifted across the surface of the hull, the attached cable trailing behind him. With the stars above and around him and the belly of the ship below, it seamed to Silas that he was floating over an upside-down vessel. He made sure to keep his body as still as possible - slight movements in this environment could adversely effect his flight path, or worse, send him spinning out of control. Although many of his fellow Spartan super-soldiers felt much better with solid ground beneath their feet, Silas tended not to share this particular uneasiness. On the contrary, he found extra-vehicular activity and low/zero-gee scenarios to have a kind of suspenseful excitement to them... much like stealth ops once he thought about it.

He made his way to the part of the ship where the hull began to transition from the bottom to the side. He caught a handhold on a protruding edge of a hull plate, and from there began to carefully climb by pulling his body forward with his arms. It was a disorienting sensation... it appeared not as if he was moving, but more like the ship was rotating beneath him with every pull.

Suddenly, he felt an abrupt vibration run through the metallic hull and up his fingertips, just as the muted hiss of a decompression sounded off to the side. Silas turned his head, not too fast, to his right and witnessed some kind of pod or capsule-like object being ejected off into space. He recognized it instantly. The Spartan let go with his right arm, allowing his body to twist sideways and dangle one-handed as he watched the coffin shoot away into the stars.

The armored soldier found himself watching that coffin until it vanished, swallowed by the void. Seeing that solemn pod carry away its unknown occupant made him pause. He wondered who it was, and who now suffered from their loss. It also stirred up old memories - like finding Harry-152's severed hand on the floor of the Pious Charity during the operation on Lethe. Why was that? He'd seen more death, even caused more himself, than many people ever have, and most of it never even fazed him. So why is it that only a few select instances linger to haunt him? Why should only a few cause that empty, hollow feeling?

There was no way anybody looking through a viewport onboard the ship would be able to see Silas from the spot he clung to, and nobody other than his ONI contacts even knew he was here in the first place seeing as this EVA exercise was just busy work during his travel to a covert mission. But regardless, the one-eyed Spartan raised his right hand in a quiet salute at where the lonely coffin disappeared before he began the trip back inside.

[Cabel]

Captain Matvey Borislavich Galina
UNSCS Swift Vengeance
In Low Orbit of Luna
Three months prior to the Battle of Kholo

The formal black dress uniform reserved for funerary services adorned with citations and medals crossing decades of service stood silent as the casket ferrying Rear Admiral Yakamura’s wife to the stars glided past. A Cossack saber forged during the time of Peter the Great and maintained through the ages lay firmly in a carefully carved and emblazoned scabbard at his side, opposite the M6 Sidearm in a holster as both functional and a symbol of how bound to the oath he’d been to the service. Snapping to attention with the fingers of the white dress gloves rested against the bill of the barracks cover, the Russian Captain knew by his Orthodoxy upbringing the Rear Admiral’s wife would return for either forgiveness or would be a guide for her husband for forty days and nights. The barracks cover complete with embroidered oak leaves and acorns of his rank sat firmly upon his brow, as had been proper.

He’d never shirked from death having respected it as part of his trade, but attending a funeral service had a way of wearing down even the staunchest officer’s defenses. He’d never had a chance to meet the Rear Admiral’s wife, but had served under her husband in more than one engagement proudly and come to respect those of the Admiralty. Remaining at attention, Matvey waited until the Admiral had given the word to be dismissed and though there had been other duties that demanded his attention the Passchendaele’s commanding officer would wait to speak with the Rear Admiral if he’d permit it.

[z]

Master Sergeant Lucy Grey

Lucy could hardly imagine what the poor bastard was going through. Loosing his wife, she couldn't imagine loosing Jason and they weren't even married yet. She had broken off from the squads weapons checking to see this, her armor still covered her. Rifle at her side.

As the capsule passed, Lucy closed her eyes, pushed her feet together and brought her hand up in a salute.

And as soon as it launched outward. Lucy lowered her hand to her side and looked to the ceiling before back down to the floor, removing her helmet at last and closing her eyes. Taking in a long breath, Lucy clipped her rifle to her back and watched out the side window. Funerals were depressing... They would drill at Lucy's mental walls. But she didn't show it besides the wetness of her eyes.

"It's never a good thing when another soul passes from the world. It's never a good thing when a soul you love passes on. But do not shed a tear... They live in in you. Now be strong for me. For us." She remembered her Dads speech, saying it at a barely audible level..

-------------

Rakath V'keelaii

A simple check in with his human allies. A simple hello. His escort ship was a simple Stealth Corvette, currently docked in the hanger as he made his way silently through the halls.

His armor marked him Heretic. The Marines simply gave him a nod as he passed. There was some kind of a commotion going on. A Human ceremony. Stepping on, Rakath hung back to the door and watched with a respectful quietness.

As it passed, Rakath looked down and closed his eyes.

Reaching up, Rakath removed his helmet, raising his voice to a respectable volume and giving, in a way, a prayer or blessing.

"Love... Like a sunrise. Starting as a pale light as it rises into the sky. Warming the heart others and yourself. Filling your hearts with happiness." Rakath looked to the window at the small fading shape. "But even on the slowest of rotating worlds... The sun must set, but it will always return to light the cold, cold night for the sun is never truly gone." Raising his hand in a slightly awkward salute, the Heretic returned to the silence.

[C3]

C3135-T14
Location: Lower Orbit of Luna
Status: Normal

C3135-T14 stood among the crowd of humans as the mourned the loss of their comrade. The woman was the wife of one of the UNSC's admiral's. C3 had not known her personally, but... for some reason, she felt a strong sense of respect for the human. Which is why she now stood here among the others.

She felt out of place, really. Not only physically, due to her blue body suit among all the humans dressed in black. She could not cry either. After, she was not human.

But she felt as if she just didn't really belong. She did not feel in the same manner that humans did. Sure, she felt the sense of loss. No life should ever have to end in such a short manner. And she understood what it meant to mourn. But grief.... she found herself struggling with this feeling. She could not process it easily.

As the casket passed her, she gestured in a strange way; the traditional forerunner salute of respect to those who have moved on. She also murmured a small prayer as it slipped by her.

"May your heart and soul rest in everlasting peace. Suffer no more as the lights of those that loved you guide you to a better place."