Memorial Service
Memorial Service
Summary: The people of Kharon assemble to say goodbye to their beloved Commander, Jack Sheridan.
Date: PHD186 (Oct 21, 2009)
Related Logs: Pulling the Pin.

[Intercom] Cortez says, "Attention All Hands! All non-essential personnel are to report to Hangar Bay One. All non-essential personnel to Hangar Bay One."

Clad in crisply pressed Dress Greys, the normally jovial and relaxed Cortez enters the Hangar Bay with the most solemn expressions affixed to his face. He says a few quiet words to those he passes, the draws up behind Praxis and clamps the man on the shoulder.

Cortez whispers, "Let's get started." to Praxis.

It's not too long before the service is due to start that Thea slips into the Hangar Bay, dressed in her perfectly-pressed dress uniform, shoulders back. She's got a fully professional look on her face, though her expression is somewhat unreadable.

Aly Mimieux is already here, off to one side and out of the way. As a newcomer to the ship, it's likely she didn't know Sheridan well - if at all. Yet she's here to pay her respects - and to be present for any of the crew who need her.

Having found his squadron, Martin's cleanly shaved and looking his sunday best. Dressed in a well pressed and finely detailed set of dress grays, he stands amongst his fellow Vigilantes in their muster.

When the CO slips into the hangar bay, Cinder is waiting, milling around a little with a few of the people she's gotten to know here in her short time on board. She, like everyone else, is wearing the fleet dress grays, looking woefully undecorated in comparison with some, and definitely Sheriden, she can imagine. Though she'd never met the man, he's indirectly responsible for her being here, being part of the CMC, and having purpose in life again; she needs to be here to show her respect.

Kai isn't the last one onto the hangar deck, but he's by no means the first, either. Kharon's CAG has dressed up for the occasion, like most of the crew; he's almost unrecognisable in his pressed and formal greys, with a modest assortment of commendations pinned to his shoulder and a studiously bland expression on his face. He steps off to the side where most pilots are congregating, though remains at their fringes in a relaxed parade rest stance.

Eddie's hair has been gelled crisply back, the short style making her features look more severe. Her greys were pulled out and de-linted and pressed, the collar starched so severely it makes her look just a little bit taller by the way she has to hold her chin. She's with others of Red Squadron, quietly milling.

Standing on the hangar deck with his hands tightly folded behind his back, Demitros has been ensuring that the crew has been assembled in perfect organization. When he steps off to the side, Praxis turns his head slightly as the hand comes to clasp at his shoulder. He turns just enough to catch Cortez in his peripheral vision, where he nods in acknowledgment at the murmur. Immediately departing from the man, Praxis walks towards the podium set up in the center of the room, in the background the twelve flags of the Colonies set up in their slightly scorched glory. They were in the Ward Room when the incident happened after all. Anyway, the XO stands just off to the side of the microphone, calling crisply and decisively, "Commander on Deck!"

Standing not too far from where the marines have mustered, at the head, or so of the pack, is Ezra. Perhaps a tad bit awkward being seen out of the normal khaki's he's been known to wear, he like most here, has dressed in his formal greys. Hair combed, he reaches one hand to adjust one of the commendations that hangs on his sash, and over at his shoulder. A glance up, and with stony silence the Major draws himself easily into the attention pose. Eyes focused dead ahead, not to the podium, not to the new XO. Simply a head as if trying to stare right through the back of the Hangar.

Xanthus is immaculate. It's almost unheard of. His grey uniform is perfect, his hair is combed so carefully that it probably took a silly amount of time. He's completely clean shaven, and looks a little distant, staring ahead with hard blue eyes while, if he's supposed to be, standing at attention. He's like a perfect soldier, or a shell of a man. It might be hard to tell.

Another of the early showings is the big MP, Barghest who is milling around with some of the other Marines, her expression properly solemn. When the shout rings out, the Marine snaps to at once and waits.

Fenris, squared away in her dress colors, arrives with her usual poise and detachment, she approaches the Viper crowd that is slowly congealing and steps into line when the CO is announced, all proprieties observed.

Roubani is wearing his dress grays as he gets to the hangar deck, hair still wet from a fast shower after walking off CAP. He straightens his collar as he steps over towards the other pilots, silent. At the call of commander on deck, military reflex fixes his stance to salute.

The moment the call of the Commander on Deck begins, Martin turns at his position near Kai, Roubani, and Eddie to turn into a rigid, attention stance. Complete with a snapped salute that he holds in place, his eyes move unblinkingly forward, focusing on nothing in a pose of military standard protocol.

Kai snaps crisply to attention as Praxis' voice rings out. Shoulders back, spine rigid, the Captain's eyes are riveted somewhere beyond the podium and its scorched flags as Cortez approaches.

"Thank you Captain." Cortez offers in his low rumble of a voice before relieving Praxis at the podium. He stands for a moment, gripping the edge of the wooden stand, his broad shoulders framed by the scotched and yet still beautiful colors of the twelve colonies behind him. There's a clearing of his throat, and a set to his jaw before he draws up rigidly. Proud. The new Commander. A salute to those gathered is crisply executed. "At ease." His voice is amplified by the microphone, reaching ever corner of the Hangar Bay and being telegraphed over the wireless for those who are still required to remain on duty.

Cortez begins, "We've gathered here this evening, not to grieve, but to remember and honor a fallen comrade. Commander Jack Sheridan was a man of honor. A man who had dedicated his life to the Colonial Military. To the protection of others. Althought it was his duty to command this ship, he took each and every one of us under his wing. He made sure we had a purpose. He made sure we had hope and most importantly, he kept us alive. The loss of the Commander, like the loss of any member of the Colonial Military, is never an easy thing to accept. This may seem like a dark time and while it is fine to grieve, let it not consume us. Instead, let us remember and honor the Commander and those that we've lost by forging ahead. By protecting and cherishing the life of all those that remain. By doing the duties assigned to us to the best of our abilities. By doing this, we honor those that have given their lives so that we may live."

Thea makes her way over toward where most of the wing has gathered and, at the call, she snaps to attention, hand coming up in a crisp salute, eyes focused on a point just over Cortez' shoulder. Ahhh, solemn occasions.

Aly is a little bit slower to come to attention, but she does so quickly and easily enough. Where Thea's focused on Cortez, Mimieux's attention is focused more on the newly minted XO.

Roubani's feet shift a little bit, salute dropped and hands folding at the small of his back. His eyes stay front, looking just past Cortez and Praxis instead of directly at either.

Following the CO's instructions, Cinder comes to a parade-rest stand, with her legs shoulder-width, her hands clasped behind her back, and her head up. She looks at the CO intently, letting his words sink in, listening intently and making the most of them.

Matto had wandered in at some point in his Captain's wake, letting her go on ahead to wherever she needs to be and loitering back, for his part, heading slow-footed toward some out-of-the-way spot where he can attentify in peace when it's called for. Eyes are kept on Cortez while he speaks, no reaction worth noting having been garnered.

The S2 steps in at the back, in dress greys, just as the address begins. She slides in, and remains close to the hatch. She stands, hands clasped behind her back, after adjusting a little bandage over her knuckles. Wouldn't want to bleed on the greys. Maybe she was just doing a little pre memorial chin music on the prisoner or something. You never know.

Still silent the Major easily switches into the at ease position, as hands clasp at his back. Eyes don't even flinch, nor move from where they have been. Held clearly at the flag's. Not a time to see who all is here and who is doing what.

As soon as Praxis is relieved from the podium, Demitros steps back and around, never walking in front of the Commander but around him as he moves to step off to the rear and the side of Cortez. As the Colonel begins to speak, hands convene at Demitros' back in a parade rest, eyes not watching the back of the Commander's head, but instead on the rest of the crew that stands on the opposite side of the Command figures. Everyone is watched and even analyzed, even while his ears are lent to Cortez. Anyone who may be lucky or unlucky enough to lock eyes with Praxis doesn't get much other than a neutral stare at this point and time - exhibiting complete and utter professionalism.

Moving his hands to the small of his back, Martin keeps his eyes forward and listens to Cortez's speech. Eyes forward to force his ears to listen, the dark reality of the Sheridan's funeral settles atop Martin's shoulders like an extra, uncomfortable weight. Breathing slowly, he blinks and then drags his field of vision to Cortez, plunging himself into the whole of the funeral.

Salute dropped once the 'at ease' is given, Marek clasps his hands behind him and focuses his gaze slightly down once more. Neither officer's eyes are met, nor those of his pilots, standing nearby. His focus appears to be on the proceedings, though his mind could well be a million miles away.

Bar settles into parade rest on the 'at ease' and keeps her eyes ahead of her, listening, and mulling over the CO's words.

Fen's expression remains unchanged, though she does lower the salute as bidden, the woman practicly silence itself.

Eddie snaps off a salute before relaxing back to parade rest. Her eyes are distant, as if absorbing the new Commander's words, but not paying direct attention to them. As the situation dictates, she doesn't spare a glance to those around her, she's just eyes forward.

Xanthus 's salute is crisp and his lips, for once in his damned life, is completely, deadly serious. His lips are perfectly flat.

Cortez continues, "Never in the history of mankind have we faced a disaster of these proportions. In the past, we have faced the threat of our own creation, the Cylons. Fourty years ago, they retreated under the guise of an armistace. Now they have returned and destroyed all that we have worked for. All that we have known. All that we have loved. How do we fight an enemy who has us outnumbered? Who has routed us from our worlds? The answer to this isn't a simple one. I can promise you, though, that we will do everything in power to rebuild mankind. Our journey has gotten no easier and the risk remains great, but I give you my word that you will never be alone. You will never be abandoned. We will fight to our very last breath to ensure that our race survives. This is my promise and tribute to those that have been lost."

There's the briefest of pauses as Cortez rewets his lips, "It's with this that I would ask for a moment's silence. A moment in which we can reflect upon those that we've lost. To remember them in moments of happiness and to know that while they are gone, they will never be forgotten." Cortez draws up tall again, "To Commander Sheridan and those that have been lost, we salute you." And slowly Cortez turns to direct his attention to the side of the room. The plain military grade pine box has been draped with the Colonial Military flag to dress up Sheridan's final resting place. It's to that, that Cortez draws his hand up to his forehead and salutes. Then, "So say we all."

There's nothing more satisfying to Praxis than the simultaneous shifting of boots when everyone turns. Hopefully this will be the case as they all face the box that carries the remains of the former Commander. Yet the perfected salute that goes up to his forehead at the moment he turns: that salute isn't just for the fallen CO, but as Cortez said, for everyone that hadn't made it this far. Captain Demitros stands more rigidly than he ever has before and his unamplified voice repeats, "So say we all!"

The somewhat-vapid looking new MP is all business as well. Her lips are pressed together tightly, draining some of the color out of them. In some ways this is sort of the…climax, of everything so far, the whole gamut of events a marine might go through in a few whirlwind days. This event coming to represent ALL the events. With a sharp, crisp snap of her arm, she brings her hand up to salute. "So say we all" she echoes with the rest of those in attendance.

There's a slight twinge at the corners of the CAG's eyes, when Cortez reaches the meat of his speech. As if something that was said, bothered him in some fashion. It's gone a heartbeat later, and he pivots, and brings his heels together with a sharp click. His hand goes up again in salute once he's facing the dead Commander's casket; his voice is far too low and scratchy from years of smoking, to elevate itself above the chorus of "so say we alls".

Near the back is the forever solemn, ghostlike form of Damon Cavalera. His eyes cast downwards as he nods softly with the words that come from Cortez. "So say we all." Damon replies openly in a tone more audible than he's used to speaking in. Raising his gaze to Cortez, he turns his attention to Sheridan's pine box. His eyes narrow into slits at his internal monologue. Snapping his salute slowly, one might find the retarded manner in which he does as disrespect or lack of protocol. He does, however, finally meet his heels at the rough attention.

Salute up, Ezra just stares ahead, and even as he hears the new CO's words-the Major gives no inclination as to what impact they have on him. However, there is a twitch of the mustache- a barely seen frown is given before it is gone into a neutral scowl of some fashion. "So say we all." repeated. His gravelly voice joining the rest.

Salazar tips her chin up slightly as she turns to face the casket as well. Her hand comes up, arm locked, and her fingertips just brush the edge of her eyebrow. Her lips move, but the words don't carry. Her dark eyes survey the backs of the entire room facing the fallen CO. The salute is given, then dropped as her hands once again clasp behind her back. The marine's face remains more or less stoic, jaw tensed.

Legacy's expression remains impassive throughout the speech, though she turns with the others and raises her voice to join the chorus of "So say we all." Yes, her voice rings out slightly - she doesn't bother to modulate the volume.

Mimieux is right there with the rest, joining her words quietly to everyone else's. Her brows have pulled together slightly at something, as if she's trying to puzzle out something she heard, but she's simply one of the crowd.

Roubani remains silent, as per course. And he turns, as the crowd is meant to, raising salute. A 'so say we all' isn't echoed with the throng of others, his decorm absolutely strict.

The words touch Bar and, with a slight shift of her posture as she swallows something back, she brings her hand to her brow in a crisp salute and solemnly replies, "So say we all."

"So say we all." Fenris responds as she joins the CO in salute for the honored dead, her voice serene.

"So say we all." Martin adds to the mix, returning to a respectful salute for the send off for the commander.

From the very back there a voice calls out, "So say we all." The voice carries a sense of carrying on with whatever comes next and it belongs to Leda and anyone looking at him will see he is throwing a crisp salute…wait is he welling up at the eyes, nah, must be space dust or something.

"So say we all." Eddie echoes back, but instead of a mechanical response, it seems more heartfelt then Mooner normally puts into anything. Her fingers come up crisply, and the salute is given for their fallen CO and their fallen comrades.

"So say we all." adds Xanthus, saluting crisply and respectfully.

Matto turns. Matto salutes. Matto says the words and does the steps like a good soldier but generally bears the aspect of a five-year-old at Gramma's funeral, not quite engaging emotionally with what's going on and looking somewhere between distracted and bored.

Cortez turns back to the congregation, "For those of you of a religious nature, a few words will be provided separately. Men and women of Colonial Escort Carrier Kharon, thank you. You are dismissed." He turns to Praxis, giving him a sharp nod.

Roubani extends another formal salute frontwards and then off he's headed, expression and back both straight.

Martin, not a regular at the chapel, fails to turn his head to see who's staying. Emotionally secure in his decision, he turns and heads towards the exit, walking straight backed and confident.

Salute still in place, Damon's eyes are locked onto the casket. Ignoring everyone around him, the felon turned marine is keeping his feet planted firmly in place. His muscular arm still raised in a salute as if keeping a vigil, not another word exits his lips.

Cinder hesitates a moment, looking at the group heading for the religious services. Though she does take one step in that direction, it's not a leap she's ready to make at the moment. With one final glimpse back at the casket, the MP turns and makes for the exit, not wanting to cry until she's back in her bunk.

Matto loiters, in no particular hurry to leave, coming out of the stiff-backed posture he'd put on for the sake of the ceremony and turning his head to peer across the room as people get to leaving. He spots his Captain and waits on her quietly, maneuvering to ambush her with his company again on her way out, if she's going.

Salazar stays where she is, waiting for the room to mostly clear. Her eyes remain on the casket across the bay, mostly hidden from view as people filter past, and the crowd moves along.

Leda isn't a religious type and that damn space dust is bothering his eyes terribly and so he quickly ducks out of the room to take care of the dust…

Praxis looks back at the commander, returning the nod to him. "Well said, sir." he offers to Cortez, deciding to stay behind, watching the others as some of them begin to disperse, as if there is something to be learned from them. The XO pushes his glasses a little bit further up his nose. For now, he will just wait and see.

Kai drops his salute again, as well as his gaze, as the dismissal's given. As people filter around him and out of the bay, he stays put for the most part. Words are exchanged quietly, shoulders are brushed in the close quarters, but the CAG seems intent to either remain for the religious portion, or merely for his own quiet reflection.

Ezra remains where he is as those behind him begin to filter out. Salute down, he turns ever so slightly, but then he is remaining in the bay, perhaps for those further religious words. Still nothing more is added. A faint look is passed to the new XO, and now does he take time to look around. Perhaps see who is still tagging along.

Thea remains where she is for the time being, attention on the casket, seemingly lost in thought. As Matto drifts close, after a minute or so, she pulls her attention away from Sheridan and reaches out to touch the Lieutenant's shoulder. No words are spoken, though she looks toward the door.

Aly remains in the bay, seemingly wishing to stay for the religious portion. She approaches no one, simply hangs back, for now.

Cortez steps away from the line of the flags, joining a few marines near the coffin of Sheridan. Without a word, he picks up one of the handles to help move it to one of the launch tubes.

Once the portion of the crew not staying for the service has filtered out of the room, the S2 takes a moment before the services begin to cross the Bay, en route to the casket. She slides in and relieves one of the marines of the duty of bearing the casket to the tubes with a quiet touch to the shoulder.

Bar lowers her salute and says something softly to herself before she turns and starts to make her way out of the bay.

Fenris holds her salute a little while longer, though, even as her salute relaxes, she remains behind for the remainder of the services.

Lowering the salute, Damon steps into line to follow the casket in silence. The admitted murderer clasps his hands behind his back and steps slowly, using their pace to help walk Sheridan to the tubes. Wordlessly, he doesn't offer nor ask to help, as this decision he's made appears to be a very private one.

Kai doesn't ask, and isn't asked. But once it's time to bear the body out into the vacuum of space, he steps away from the bulkhead he'd been looming beside, and takes up one corner of the casket.

Matto looks to the door, then back to the Kitten, and the coffin, and the Kitten again, in turns, a brow raised as he lifts a hand to apply a gentle supportive pressure below her elbow. He'll stay with her if she needs to stay.

Thea offers Matto a small smile, then turns toward the door, clearly not staying for the religious portion of things.

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