Nonni VI - Kaalakiota Corporation Factory - 115.24.03 0600 hours
Four ships. Four minutes.
The Hangar was usually a noisy place. Welders, cutting torches, lifting machinery and above all the shouts of busy people, working with a shared purpose to maintain the great metal beasts whose names became a blessing and a curse and whose needs dominated their every waking moment. Now the cavernous space was eerily quiet - those names were represented now as painted signs and those needs, save for one last exception, were finally fulfilled.
The small crowd in front of those signs was led by twenty-seven men and women in Kaalakiota black and red, some of them still showing signs of the medical care they'd received in the last few days. Behind them a mass of jump suited technicians and dockhands assembled in rough knots and clusters, sharing tales and lending support to each other. The last attendee emerged from a side door, casting a look back into the darkness from which he'd emerged, before turning his attention to the scene awaiting him.
Conversation rose in a buzz and then died as the tall figure in black and grey made his way to a podium in front of the four signs, his polished boots marking each step in the hush. Ascending the adhoc wooden stage, he turned to face the crowd, expression impassive except for the pallor of his complexion and the tension of his jaw.
"
CSC Vector of Hope. CSC Ethics Gradient. CSC Hearthfire. CSC Revenant. There should be over seven hundred of you here today, but only twenty-seven have answered final muster, with another eight in the sickbay. Vector of Hope perished in Algogile a week ago to a Federal Navy Megathron. All hands lost. Ethics Gradient and Hearthfire mixed their ashes with the Shiigeru over Home yesterday, most of you hail from them. Revenant survived the battle over Home only to meet her end at the hands of a mixed FDU fleet in Black Rise today.
I wrote a speech for you all, it was full of platitudes about our Ancestors and exhortations to face a stern duty with an uncertain ending. I won't be delivering it, because it's an insult to those who have died to think that their Ancestors need my help remembering them and an insult to you to suggest you need any further encouragement in your work.
I could talk about the battle over Home, but the Shiigeru is dead and Home is lost and we've all heard enough speeches about that to last us a lifetime. Speeches will NOT return us to Caldari Prime, the only way back is up a river of blood and some of that blood will be yours. By this time tomorrow new hulls will fill the empty cradles and new Patriots will fill the empty bunks and only we will remember it was ever different.
In this respect our honoured dead teach us something new about living a life in service to Heiian. They pass the torch, humbly and without expectation of great ceremony and we pick it up and pass it on in our turn. I cannot promise you safety. I will not promise you honour. All I can do is promise that your torch will be picked up and that, until this war is over, there will always be another Caracal and another crew in Black Rise."
The Capsuleer paused, swallowed and continued.
"
Four minutes of silence for the crews of our four lost ships. After that I want to see crew in my office for debrief and reassignment. Crew chiefs - you have work waiting. That is all."
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Topic: Four ships. Four minutes. (Read 1509 times)