USS Darmok Briefings and Logs
||The duty logs, weekly status reports and sim logs of the USS Darmok.|
|Lieutenant Dean Spearhorse, et al., SD|
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USS Darmok NCC 9764
Lt Cmdr Relok
Lt Bevin Sile MacArdry
Lt Shadow Wind K’Trevala
Lt Aaron Reidinger
PO2 Shepherd Jamison Crozier
MSgt George Hastings Price
PO1 Martin Macintyre
PO3 Sarah Connor Hughes
GySgt Vince Sutton Carter
PFC Homer Kyle
Lt Commander Desiree Thibodeaux
Lt Dean Martin Spearhorse
Ensign Ben E Franklin
Nurse Grace Drew
Counselor Charis E. Ariti
Ensign Evangeline Trappey
Over Metaluna II
Spearhorse had contacted the the families of the deceased members of his staff via subspace. Because of the great distance, none of the family members had been able to come to honor their loved ones with the crew, in fact, the separation of space meant none would even know of the men’s deaths until long after the service was over.
. A closed casket service was held for each of the men. Price managed to sit through these services but only in a semi-medicated haze. Petty Officers Hughes and MacIntyre were asked to stay at Price’s side through the whole event as a precaution suggested by Ben to Dean just before the service, Dean told Price that they were his personal honor guard to appease the mind of the troubled man.
Bevin’s brilliantly sealed inner coffins for them were secondarily enshrouded with the bronze colored full size caskets that had been engraved with their names and dates as well as the awards they had achieved in their lives of service. She also had gone down to the ship’s arboretum and picked the two most perfect red roses from the bush there to go in the larger caskets with their remains to send off with them on their final journey. She was hoping that their families would appreciate that they were so well thought of. She also managed to exactly duplicate Mouser’s wedding ring, nicks, dents and all, to send home to his wife since the one he’d worn was too contaminated by the spores of the Kyrathian ship. She just wished that she could duplicate any mental presence that he had left in it for the unfortunate widow. It was the least she could do to honor the man.
The real honor guard were the Marines. GySgt Carter and PFC Kyle had practiced the flag ceremony and the procedures regarding the coffin for the last three days in order to give these men full Military Honors. Longshanks was asked to direct the Twenty-One gun salute. Patterson’s Pathfinders volunteered for that send off and made up the other eight pallbearers.
As the last of the coffins were sent to their final resting space, Evangeline Trappey played a moving rendition of “Amazing Grace” on her violin, Shadow Wind accompanying her on his lapharp. Grace Drew completed the trio with a stunning vocal rendition of the hymn in a light, lyrical mezzo-soprano. Bevin thought about adding in her bagpipes but realized that the ancient Scottish instrument would be too overpowering to the others that were there to honor the men, instead she played one of the Piobrocheads as a kind of Processional before the simple service of farewell.
Lieutenant Aaron Riedinger was standing staring at the last of the coffins that was heading towards its final destination, thinking of several possible scenarios that might have happened to avoid the outcome that everyone was contemplating right now. This was the first time in his career that he attended a funeral ceremony of one of his crewmates. He was an engineer, so, unless they worked in a starship, it was very unlikely that any of his fellow engineers would do a work that would even endanger his life. Due to that, in his time in the SFA and in his short time working in the Jupiter Station, he was lucky to never have to witness such a tragic event as the death of one of his companions. And obviously, he never had to witness the death of one of his men in charge. He did not even want to think about what Dean, the Colonel and the Captain were going through. Mouser and Nottingham had given their lives for him and the rest of the Away Team to escape from the Kyrathian Station. He did not know them, moreover, when they had to serve in the same Away Team it was the first time he saw their faces. But still, because of the heroic act they had committed, delivering the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of their crewmates, he had a deep respect for both. So deep as to consider them ... true heroes. The fact that he, at the time of their deaths, was wearing a biosuit and they did not, still made him feel tremendously selfish. The questions: what would have happened if they would had a biosuit? And, if we had rushed even more, would we have been able to manufacture at least a couple more suits?, had spent countless times in his head. But, as they had remarked it to him countless times in his counseling sessions, it was not worth thinking about. Those were facts that had already happened, nothing he could do would change them ... but even so, he could not help feeling guilty.
Lt. Cmdr. Relok stood stoically near a window, his Dress Uniform sharp and his ceremonial dagger slung at his side. The fang of the sehlat dangled around his neck and his other awards were on his breast. His long hair was neatly tied back, the tail wrapped in black leather with turquoise beads interspersed.
The funerary rites of Humans always left him feeling a bit uncomfortable, since Humans could not store their katras for safe transfer to a katric ark on their homeworld like Vulcans would. It always disturbed him to know that the knowledge, skill, and character of these men were lost, gone forever.
He felt it was a totally illogical waste and wondered how Humans coped with such a loss. He watched how several crew members, friends of the deceased, wept at their coffins and knew … they understood the loss.
He struggled to maintain his emotional detachment. He had not known these men well, had not served closely with them, but the grief and anguish on the faces of their friends nearly overwhelmed him and he knew he would need some time alone in his quarters to clear his mind and settle his emotions.
Dr. Thibodeaux stood with Grace Drew and other sickbay staff members. Her eyes filled with tears as they flitted between the Darmok’s XO Patterson and Lt Spearhorse. She felt for them. As a physician she had lost patients before but there was no way around the sense of sadness and failure that inevitably came with a premature death. Desiree wiped her tears trying to be strong for her fellow crew members. She would say a prayer to God and Grandmother later.
Captain Taylor stood on the other side of the room in his Class-A Dress Uniform. He hated these kinds of events. Not because he didn’t want to be there, just that he never wanted to be in that situation, ever. He’d stood silent vigil during the funeral of several men during his career, but that was always as a colleague, or as First Officer, not as the Captain who had sent these men to their deaths. He watched Spearhorse, who was dealing with this for only the … was it his third time? Too many for such a young Department Head. Even Patterson, who Taylor knew had done this many times before, seemed still to have not adapted to it. Could you ever adapt? Would you want to? What kind of a man could go through this regularly and not feel like he wanted to throw up?
Spearhorse didn't envy the captain as he stood his vigil. He wondered what had prompted the Captain to send them. WHY when the suits were in such short supply was it time to go on the. Offensive.
PO2 Shepherd Jamison Crozier, from the Quartermaster’s department, stood next to the Captain, wearing what appeared to be something like an archaic ankle length black dress with a snowy white lace edged tunic over it. He also had a wide strip of black ribbon draped around his neck and falling down past his waist on each side in front. “Sir, I know I haven’t come forward before now about my other calling other than in the Supply department but if you want me to, I’m willing to help with the rites for these men.” The compassion for the Captain and his grieving crew shown in Crozier’s clear gray eyes as he fingered a string of beads that was looped into the cincture around his waist. This wasn’t the first funeral he’d been there to help with and he knew that, no matter how much he wished otherwise, it would not be the last.
Last into the chamber was a woman that few crewmembers recognized, the ship’s newest member and the replacement for Counselor Sherikova, Lt Commander Charis Ariti. She quietly watched the actions and reactions of all present, keeping a special eye Longshanks and Price .
Spearhorse was broken inside but only the captain and Relok had been privy his thoughts on the loss of his personnel. His thoughts drifted back to the first man lost under his command only a year ago on a mission Paterson had commanded, Higgins who had been shot was killed instantly. The officer who pushed him out of the way of the second shot, was it George who had taken that second shot, suffered in the shuttle till he passed out in his arms in the shuttle. He could still see the fear in the man’s eyes as he gasped for his breath. Maybe that explained why the Master Sergeant was having such a emotional problem this time.
Being stuck on the shuttle when his men were in danger this time, because of an order, was even worse. His hands were tied. He heard the blast and prayed his men would return in one piece. As the battered Away Team entered the shuttle the look of despair on their faces said it all. Beyond the physical wounds the emotional effects of this second deadly mission were causing that memory to push itself to the surface again and again. He wondered if it was the survivors guilt or something else. Combat troops often reported remembering the face of their first kill years later though subsequent kills not as much.
Crozier saw the look on Spearhorse’ face and could guess what was going through the Security Chief’s mind. With a nod to the Captain, the priest went over to Spearhorse. ”Chief, there is a special battalion that Michael the Archangel, the General of the Heavenly Forces, leads, made up of men such as they. And I have no doubt that they have been promoted to being two of his top Lieutenants for their actions here. Yes, we will miss them but, now, they have a greater duty than any we ever thought of for them while they were with us and I fully believe that HE has them looking down on us now as the Guardian Angels for the ship.”
Dean nodded to the priest. “Forgive me, father, though I may wish to talk to you later about what I am feeling now, If I did I would probably lose it and I Have to stay strong for my men.”
Crozier gently drew the Sign of the Cross on Spearhorse’ brow. ”I understand, my son, and we can talk at your convenience,” he replied, his voice full of compassion and understanding.