That day, all four open air halls were in use at once. Two for combat personnel, and two for maintenance crews. Across the vastness of the room, there was a mix of pilots, internal artillery brigades and special forces all lined up, standing in uniform and at attention. The large stage that elevated those on it above the assembly was sparsely populated. A single lectern to one side, and a lineup of chairs on the other.
The room's centrepiece for that occasion, was the unmarked tomb of marble-white stone, to which each side of the assembly was stood on one side of. A decade had passed, and a respectful ceremony could finally begin comfortably. Special Operations would have the biggest by far. The crew on the Steel Whale, the pilots who launched from it, and the special forces that had trained on it had been the largest factor in ending the conflict over Excala, and had therefore suffered the largest losses.
We were underdogs in Geverde's armed forces, yet on this day, no one could deny us.
“Catafalque party, march slow!”
A procession of armed men marched to the beat of a drum next to the stage. They followed the centre aisle towards the tomb, spreading out around it.
“Catafalque party, turn! Cease march!”
The group of five, three Beak and two human, stood in a semicircle around the tomb, facing outwards, as if to protect it.
“Catafalque part, present arms!”
The rifles that had been kept strapped to their shoulders came off. They stabbed the bayonets against the cold steel of the floor, barrels facing the ground, hands resting on the butt stock.
I found Elliot amongst the crowd, tiredness had been thoroughly washed from his face. He stood in respectful silence. He himself had lost his co-pilot in the conflict. If I could remember correctly, a small blue spirit, back when fighters used to be piloted by both a human and a spirit. It was his death anniversary today, and it would weigh heavily on the minds of both him and Evalyn.
Evalyn herself was not present. Ceremonies such as these made her sick. While Geverde largely had the luxury of remembering their fallen as heroes who died for their country, Sidos could not. Her own father had sent them to their death, for a selfish reason she could never agree with. It reminded her that when powerful people made their move, many were trampled underneath. In that regard, she was no different.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
She had accepted that, but ceremonies such as these still made her sick.
The Master of Ceremony gave a brief address, before handing off the lectern.
“Lieutenant-General Marie Elvera, would you please give an address.”
I stood up and walked across, the clanking of my boots reverberating across the cavernous space. It created an uncomfortable feedback and reminded me that all eyes were looking. It was unsettling, no matter how used to it I got.
“Thank you, Major. I'd preferably like to keep this short, as I know we all have routines to get back to, which is something I think about every day. No matter how many people never come back, or how many lives that burden your shoulders, it's strange to think that our routines do not change, and time seems to continue even if it's stopped for us. I think all of us share a commonality, in that we realise that no matter what happens out there, it seems for us that time continues, even if we do not want it to.”
"I do not like thinking about the fact that many who heard the address I gave that day, when the city burned, and death was on the horizon, never made it. It reminds me that time indeed does stop, that you are indeed left behind sooner or later. I would like to say that they died for their country, face to the ground, fearless and brave, yet I do not want to. I do not want to disrespect them. I want to remember that they were fearful, remember that they felt pain, that they thought about their families when the end closed in on them. Because they were all human. They were all so very human.”
“And that extraordinary sacrifice they gave for their own something is what truly breaks my heart every time. That they left their families, they left all of you who remember behind. I wish to never forget what that sacrifice truly meant, and I hope that none of you will ever have to go through what they did again. Yet that is a fool's errand. Only those who hear of tragedy through their radio sincerely believe this."
"Yet, in this twisted world we live in, those who fight to keep the illusion of peace real deserve everything. Our jobs are needed, our fights are inevitable. Yet it is the peace that is found in spite of that, when our presence is unneeded, where we can truly make the most of ourselves, in place of those who couldn't. Never forget this. Thank you."
A minute of silence proceeded my speech. The entire assembly saluted as every gear and engine on the Steel Whale stopped. Nothing but the breeze from the rolling plains behind me were audible.
The Catafalque party eventually moved off, leading the assembly behind it, as the men and women of the ship filed out to return to their duties.
Evalyn could not stand these ceremonies, and sometimes I think that I can't either. I was much the same. I made moves and that trampled those unfortunate enough to be underneath. Yet, ceremonies like this reminded me that I was still somewhat human, that I still had a place in the rest of the world the day I disrobe my uniform for the last time. That feeling was hard to attain sometimes.
I would have to have Evalyn visit me later. Remind myself what smiles look and feel like.