trans_9 | (no subject)

Stones in the shape of a caern for a body that was never recovered and now never will be. It's down there on that forsaken planet, probably picked over by scavengers, both human and animal. Some criminal warlord is right now probably using his rank tiara to decorate his scarred forehead. Lafiel hopes it's not that bastard McAngus.

Late at night she's painstakingly brought her coffin of rock here. She carved his name on them in Baronh with her klanyu. If anyone wishes to activate their omnicomm's translation functions, they'll see it reads Lynn Su Rock Haidr Jinnto.

Lacking an airlock to eject the "coffin" out of, the alien stars rushing past are the only backdrop she can give for this makeshift funeral. She hopes his last view was of those stars. Maybe they gave him some comfort as starvation or wound stole the last little bit of energy from him and his chest stopped rising and falling in the oppresive, humid night.

She dares to hope he thought of her.

After a minute's rest (the stones were very heavy and awkward to carry from the city) she stands straight. She will have to be both speaker and audience for this wake.

First a crooning dirge, something that would be proud and magnificent if sung by all his friends. From her voice, it comes out too thin though, a small imitation of a grand gesture.

Next the Abh national anthem, not sung but recited in a monotone. This is their equivalent to Taps.

It ends like this:

Dear Stars,
Please listen to the wishes of your short-lived kin.
Our wishes,
It is to live until your are ancient.

Dear Empire, Dear Stars,
Let us pledge ourselves to eternity together.

At this point, the coffin would normally be shot off by an electromagnetic rail cannon, aimed towards the center of the galaxy, to travel eternally. She snaps the Abh salute, middle and index fingers to her forehead and the thing is over.

Abriels are royalty. To be fair rulers, they must not show too much concern for any one subject. Otherwise, they will have to show concern for all of them, and that is of course impossible. They are most definitely not allowed to cry.

So Lafiel stands stock straight but trembling and watches the stars...

Not crying.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You did what was required of you," he replies. "You had a job to do and he had his. If he were half the man I think he is from the sound of it, he had no regrets."

"Also consider: If he were as valuable to you as he clearly was, they wouldn't stop at one hostage attempt. If he's potentially useful, they wouldn't kill him before getting anything out of him. That's how groups like this function. They'll threaten to kill, but if he's dead they have nothing to influence you with. Two months is not a long time for something like this."

The Chief's seen more than a few hostage situations. And taken hostages himself. The best he can really do here is offer his logic in an attempt to help. He's not an emotional man, the Chief, but he can tell when someone's in pain.

Lafiel shakes her head so her hair goes from side to side, except for those couple strands stuck to her cheeks. "He's a lander who joined the Abh. The United Mankind considers people like him race traitors. After their fleet took the system, they certainly executed him." Along with the revolting prisoners...Which she couldn't give a waste ejection about right now. She hopes Angus and Dukafu get a chance to experience the cruelty of United Mankind 'reeducation'. They'll beg for the Abh to come back then...

"But thank you, Chief."

He nods solemnly. "Then I am sorry for your loss."

It feels like an empty thing to say, because it is, but it's the best he can offer. The Chief knows how it feels to lose people that you are responsible for, but also that the ability to come to terms with these losses and to spend the lives in your hands wisely is very important for any officer.

"Chief, you could have left without saying anything and ignored this. Or you could have told me it's against regulations and made me take it all back to the city." A beat. "What I suppose i'm trying to say is, someday I want to be as good a commander as you are." Her own subordinates had found her distant or intimidating (excepting Ekuryua, who saw her as a rival). If she could manage his wordless ability to listen...

He's a little surprised by that.

"I... thankyou, Lafiel." It's nice to hear. He's not used to being told that, usually he's only in charge of his Spartans and they've been following him for years, since childhood even. It's kind of taken for granted that they trust him.

"The only thing I would worry about is that if you leave this here, you might be asked about it. Also it would need secured. When the obs deck detaches from Stacy for missions, we spend some time in zero gravity and one of these stones could kill someone."

He does have practical concerns.

"Understood, sir. In an Abh funeral, the coffin is sent into space, towards the center of the galaxy. If dumping them down the waste chute is the closest I can get, so be it." There is silence. Lafiel is not uncomfortable with it. I'm sorry I couldn't give you a more dignified burial, Jinnto.

"I'm not sure Stacy jettisons all waste, I wouldn't be surprised if she recycles as much organic material as she can."

"After we gain access to the ship's bridge, we should be able to find and get control of an actual air lock. Unless it's improper to delay."

Of course. Recycling everything was how her ancestors had survived as space nomads. Stacy would be no different.

"The departer certainly isn't going anywhere." She says with a ghost of a hint of an implication of a smile. "I will secure the..." She looks at the pile of stones. "Coffin...until such time as I can send it off properly."