The Fallen

A Tale of Mourning

Ok, I was just bored so I wrote it over a couple of days. In case you're wondering, it has no recent inspiration, but I would like to dedicate this story to all the troops serving in Iraq, especially the ones that have given up their lives, and to their families.

I remember it as if it was yesterday. Young Diiere set out from Ni'la Mjolnir. Four days later his heavily damaged ship returned to the system and touched down on the dock. There was confusion because he had not requested clearance. A couple of people walked around the dock, some gathered at the entrance of his ship to greet him back, he was quite popular with the younger recruits.
He had been sent out from Ni'la Mjolnir to investigate the rumors of an Auroran Task Force travelling to strike either the Polaris or the Federation. If they were headed towards Polaris, a fleet would need to be assembled, and he needed to know as soon as possible. Four or five dockworkers gathered around his hurt ship, waiting for him to finish his Post-Flight routine so they could begin nursing his poor ship back to health.
Usually, a pilot does not spend more than twenty minutes on his post flight routine, but he was taking over twice that amount of time. Finally, their was a sound of air compressing, and the ship opened its door. As the fog came out, some of his friends ventured into the ship, to greet him. What they saw must have been unspeakable, blood everywhere. All I know is that they came out of the ship in tears, carrying their bloody friend on a stretcher. He had a blanket over his body, but blood had soaked through it...

I am Triielwe. I have served in the Nil'kemorya for over three centuries. I am one of the most senior, and I serve on Iuso's personal board of advisors, as I have for over a century and a half. Currently I serve my post on the border as dockmaster of the outpost, Ni'la Mjolnir.
I had heard rumors from Mu’hari in the region that a Auroran Task Force was making way towards my system. I went to the mess hall and asked who wanted the assignment. The Nil’kemorya were constantly being sent to scout out Federation and the surrounding space, so most of them groaned. But Diiere had just come back from vacation with his two twins and wife from Tre’ar Helonis. He raised his hand and I nodded, not thinking twice. I gave him his orders and told him to report to his senior officer and he would be sent out.
Diiere was one of the more accomplished ones that I had had in my service. His resume was filled with successful scouting and leading raids on the Wraith, Aurorans, and Polaris. His skills in the weaves had surpassed even mine, and he was the pride and joy of Master Arando. So, of course I thought little of it.
I remember seeing his manta setting off from Ni’la Mjolnir and I waved to him and sent a subtle weave to wish him luck...

Then his body returned.

The strangest thing about his death was that his manta returned. Most deaths of Nil’kemorya in Manta’s occur when the Manta explodes. Even when they didn’t, the Manta’s usually flew away. So, I was somewhat amiss. Immediately I radioed the med. bay and told them to make room for his body. Secondly I radioed some of my bodyguards and told them to protect the body.

The whole station was in mourning. I had ordered for the dead body to be put into a cryogenic tube to protect it. I remember sitting in my chair and gasping at the fact that I had sent the man out to a bloody death. It was obvious he had set the course for the manta to return, but had not survived the lonely flight home
I guessed that he had collapsed in his chair after the battle and setting a course for home, because it wouldnt have returned otherwise. He just kept sleeping. His leaf had landed.

One week later, I contacted his wife, and asked for an audience with her. I entered the door and told her my deepest apology as I was responsible. She only looked at me blankly, “He was already dead to the Polaris people. He did his duty.”
That left me speechless, I took my leave and left.

I had heard of funerals by ancient sailors on ancient Earth once, and I decided that that was what should be done. The entire population of my station gathered around the cannon fitted to the station. Today, it would send a dear warrior and friend hurtling into the unknown. We watched as two of his friends put the casket covered with the Polaris banner into the cannon.
It was a couple of moments of silence, then different people got up to speak about their lives and how he affected them. As these people talked more and more, I was suddenly hit with the fact that I had sent this man to his death. After an hour of this depressing ceremony it was finally time to send him into the unkown.
The five man cannon team came marching up in a line, did the ceremony. Their commander finally gave the order to fire it, and his body was sailed off. It was strange, it had always been before that we could still reach him. And now...he was out of our grasp forever.
After this, out of breath I walked to my office and sat down in the chair. All I could think about was that I had sent him to his death...

no, in case you were wondering, the dockmaster is not an analogy for pres. bush or anybody else participating in this war.

Well, the torpedo tube was out of Star Trek II, right?

There's not really any closure in this story. Or were you aiming for any?

Cheers,
Guapo

not really, no closure, no torpedo tube from star trek ii, I made it up, but it doesn't surprise me that they used it in star trek II, the idea is pretty basic.

I liked it, but i was a little dissapointed that we never found out what actually happened to him. Why wasn't his manta destroyed in the attack etc. Still, I guess because it's from someone else's point of view they might not know why. I just think it leaves a bit of a gap in the story that the reader can't fill in.

Very good.

MoSsY