<USS Avalon> "In Remembrance"

In Remembrance
By Elissabeth Marksbury


"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
friends." Elissabeth paused, finding her voice before she continued. "Ancient 
text which still finds truth in our hearts today." 

She looked out over the small crowd gathered for John Forester?s eulogy. 
Familiar faces, worn-out faces stared back at her with hopeful eyes, praying 
she would give them what they needed to go on, to make sense out of their loss.

"When Covert Operations began their training, they were given a mantra. Sir 
Winston Churchill wrote:

Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will 
stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving 
path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far 
from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb."

Elissabeth paused again, letting the words flitter about the soft breeze and 
make their way into the hearts of each one present. It seemed almost cliche, or 
maybe even ironic, to hold a service for the departed on a warm spring day, sky 
the bluest shade of topaz, and clouds that begged for their hidden shapes to be 
revealed. Shaded by the branches of a great oak, the sun beat down all around 
them, save for their haven, and she looked up into the sky, just beginning to 
make out the outlines of a pouncing tiger. Even a bird sang its joyous soprano 
for the group, perched in the oak, puffing out its breast and laying out a 
strange but beautiful melody for its audience. Yes, the perfect setting to 
mourn the dead, she thought bitterly, trying in vain to keep the sarcasm from 
her mind. Especially dying such a horrid death.

What could it have possibly been like for him in that moment? Looking into the 
eyes of that confident little Ferengi, knowing his intent to kill? What would 
it feel like to know that you?re not on the holodeck and the safeties wouldn?t 
kick in and deposit you onto a nice, safe yellow grid amongst the black 
background? To know that your life was going to be ripped away from you a split 
second later. 

And yet, oddly, she knew John would?ve felt peace. Because he knew it was what 
he had to do. It was redemptive. And John Forester knew it was what any of them 
would?ve done for him had they been in that place at that time.

Someone in the group cleared their throat, drawing her attention once again to 
the gathering. 

"John climbed with joy. And I believe he reached the summit with glory, for 
what else could that summit be but a noble death?" She took a deep breath. 
"Though Sir Winston Churchill believed that we could never get to the end of 
the journey, we all know that John did. He met death with eyes open." A few 
people in the group nodded, but this felt wrong to her. Fake. Her and Anna had 
put a lot of work into the speech, and yet it was still false-sounding to 
Elissabeth?s own ears.

"And," she sighed, " I could stand here and conclude with all the flowery words 
and beautiful analogies I had planned, but the truth is... John Forester is 
dead. He died a horrible death, but he died saving the lives of two of his team 
mates. Though John was by far imperfect; he didn?t handle stress well, he 
panicked at the most inopportune of times, he was naive and had a lot of 
growing to do... He stepped up to his calling, what the fates had planned when 
the moment counted. John Forester left a legacy to be admired."

Then, in an incredibly uncharacteristic display, Elissabeth bowed her head and 
lifted eyes glistening with tears. She sang in a soft soprano:

"I shall not see the shadows, 
I shall not feel the rain; 
I shall not hear the nightingale 
Sing on as if in pain: 
And dreaming through the twilight 
That doth not rise nor set, 
Haply I may remember, 
And haply may forget."*

The melodic words died away and the birds resumed their song once more. Looking 
to the sky, Elissabeth lowered her voice one more level, so only those nearest 
her actually heard the words she spoke, "My friend forgive me, that I live and 
you are gone, there?s a grief that can?t be spoken."

Silence descended all around, as if even the birds knew not to tread on the 
sacredness of the moment. Turning her gaze back on those gathered, she smiled 
through tears. "We are here to close the gap in our hearts left by John?s 
death. Let not one grieve outside these walls again. John wouldn?t have liked 
it." A few people offered her a weak smile, knowing her words were true.

"Perhaps one day all of us will be tried, and we will remember John?s testament 
to this life and we shall also pass with a legacy."

And with that, Elissabeth stepped away from the base of the tree and walked 
down the slope to the doors of the holodeck.

 

* Words from the poem "When I am Dead, My Dearest" by Christina Rossetti.


                
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