MD #244: Golf Memorial
Golf Memorial
Summary: The Orion honors their fallen…and their survivors…from the recent raid on Golf-51.
Date: 08/12/2017 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Golf Predator Strike
Petra Donovan Diaz Yari Niko Inez Bennett Samtara Adeliza Idris Lleufer 
Observation Deck - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
The Obs Deck is one of the more quiet areas on the ship where people can come to get away from the hustle and bustle that goes with the rest of service in the fleet. The front of the room is a very large armored glass window to allow a dominating view of whatever is out ahead of the battlestar. Seats rise up at even levels, plush chairs and couches provided for the crew to relax in. During Condition One an armored plate is lowered down to cover the view and prevent the room from becoming a hazard and sealing it tight.
June 25, 2029

The Observation Deck for the evening has been evacuated and rearranged slightly, expanding the empty space out in front of the main windows, while extra space has been cleared for the detail to assemble in the middle. Banners for each of the colonies have been hung along the walls, really the only nod to this being as formal as the Battlestar can get considering their isolation.

Also, if that wasn't enough warning, both Petra and Niko up front in their dress greys, accompanied by a couple of Junior Tactical officers beside a table might be another indication that Formal Crap Is Afoot Tonight.

Niko's not exactly a dress uniform sort of CAG, but those being remembered and honored have earned the formality. Down in front, the aging Viper jock stands beside Petra with a minimum of fidgeting as he waits for the ceremony to kick off.

Donovan is in a reserved and solemn mood today. He has attended a few such occasions before this and nothing makes them any easier. He is clad in his dress uniform, spit and polish, to once again say goodbye to good people taken from them far too early. He is lost in thought at the moment, thinking back to a few days before the mission, hashing out ideas at the Sims with Ben.

Standing among the already gathered pilots, and noticably opting to stand with the other survivors from the Golf-51 mission, Diaz has her hands clasped behind her back and a solemn if not actually carefully neutral expression on her face. The typically ebullient Ten is quiet and soft spoken at the moment, were it not for the distinctive coloring in her hair she'd appear a carbon copy for any other of her line.

Recruit Corpsman, Yari Sawyer, is no pilot. She is no marine, not /really/, but she is now a part of this blended family, adrift in the ever-expanding universe barreling farther and farther away rom her 'home'. In exchange for others' service to her and her children, tearing them away from the loyalists of Piraeus, she's vowed her own self to the wounded and hurting on board BS Orion. Now that what flesh may mend is mended, there are a number of deeper wounds remaining. Those which mar the soul.

Yari did not know much of Ben as a man, she'd never seen him fly, but she saw the way he'd looked at her mother once and how Inez had looked at him. And that's enough. Standing tall and silent in her crispy, never worn 'greys' out of respect for the dead and support for the living, Sawyer Jr waits for the proceedings to begin. Perpetually wide, worried eyes idly scan the other faces present for the slightly older Sawyer. Mum.

With her hair pulled back smoothly, bangs somehow held back with the rest of her hair, the Eleven feels too exposed for this event. But, being in her dress grays, her hair must be tamed in a formal manner as well. Instead of her usual ponytail flipping lightly around the back of her head as she walks, she has twisted her hair into a little bun at the nape of her neck. Inez doesn't advance any further into the room than she has to, taking a stance along the back wall as soon she enters, her gaze staring straight ahead, through the windows and past the stars, looking for something that isn't to be seen here.

When the majority of the detail has assembled, and Petra's done checking his watch, he straightens up a little and shoots Niko a questioning look as if to confirm the CAG is also good to go. With that done, one of the JTACCOs raps her knuckles on the table and blows an alert whistle to call the room to attention.

For once without his datapad, the Commander starts out, "Detail!" and gives the room a moment to focus, before starting in, "On June 19th, 2049, a strike mission was posted that Command had branded as 'extremely dangerous'. While on some days, simply leaving the deck on CAP can be considered a dangerous action, missions considered 'extremely dangerous' have been branded such because there is an expectation that a large portion of the individuals going on that mission will not return from it, and that, despite this danger, the mission must still be accomplished. Such actions are always posted on a volunteer-only basis, and this time, six pilots and six Electronic Countermeasures Officers from Orion's Air Wing volunteered for the strike. Intel about the target was sparse, and Tactical had limited time to gather what there was before the window of opportunity was going to close, and yet these 12 individuals charged in because they knew this had to be done.

The enemy resistance was much heavier than originally proposed, in some cases, generating so many incoming threats that they overloaded the Predator's advanced threat detection system. Our air crews took multiple hits, some resulting in catastrophic damage to their airframes, and yet these 12 stuck to their mission. Each of the four required targets was hit, multiple times. This was not 'barely good enough' or a 'marginal victory'. The enemy that ambushed us weeks ago suffered a decisive defeat, and through their actions, our thin band of avengers have gained an ally, and a wealth of information that may finally give us the advantage we need over the enemy that has taken over our homeworlds. Their heroism in the face of almost certain death and defeat, for the survival of our very race, epitomizes the very example of courage and self-sacrifice the rest of us can only hope to attain."

Niko gives Petra a nod. He's ready. And then the Lieutenant Colonel snaps to attention when it is called, standing to listen to the XO's speech. There's a grim expression on Niko's face — he's been to his share of memorials, but they never get easier. Just more familiar.

Idris stands with his fellow pilots who participated in the Golf-51 Strike that Commander Marcus Petra discusses. The Captain's dark eyed gaze slips over the pilots who stand with him, those whom survived the mission, and no doubt those who did not stand clear and sharp in their their minds tonight. Idris Khesu Bloodfeather stands erect and tall with his hands lightly placed behind his back at parade rest as he observes the start of the ceremony.

Meanwhile, somewhere further back, Gunnery Sergeant Lleufer Ynyr stands among a number of Marines who have also packed into the Observation Deck, listening and silent. Somewhere in this assemblage surely is his wife, Bennett.

One of the Junior Tactical Officers standing up front is noticeably shorter than the others. Adeliza keeps her hands folded in front of her, with her dress grays pressed and looking almost as perfectly sleek and tidy as Lt. Rook. She doesn't reach up to tuck her hair back, keeping her hands clasped as she listens to the recounting of the sacrifice made by the Air Wing.

Before all eyes were summoned forward, Yari'd spied the 'eleven' entering as a wallflower and immediately started to drift backwards on tiny, cautious steps through the few other bodies in the way. She's made it to just about a meter from her mother and it's there she stops. Close enough to be seen, far enough to not suffocate. Her attention dutifully goes to the Commander at the sound of that whistle and it's him that her stare focuses on. She's never been to a memorial service - not in her adult lifetime. Da passed when she was three and most memories that remain of the occasion were planted there by the retelling of Gram's. Fourteen years later, she wasn't able to witness what Gram did with Grandfather after the Knights shot him down. Gram's passing came later in letter form only, from a stranger. Eight years after that, her husband was left to burn with the rest of their estate in his own pool of brains, and that suited Yari just fine.

So this is her first. After a time, her eyes do start to wander, taking in her fellow shipmates' expressions, surveying the levels of emotion. It's good to see emotion, mourning. These are good souls.

Squaring her shoulders subtly, Diaz keeps her attention focused on the XO and the CAG while maintaining a respectful silence.

Lieutenant Donovan Corric stands to attention when the detail is called to order. He listens to the depiction of events that went on during their furious hell-ride that was called Golf-51. His pushes his thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment and gives his full attention to the service that is being held. It is the very least that each and everyone one of those being honored here today deserves.

After pausing for a moment for the echo in on the deck to subside, Petra continues, "We are saddened to report the loss of:

Lieutenant, Junior Grade Ben "Timber" Cross
Ensign Edward "Edit" Williams
Ensign Dayne "Zoot" Davros
Lieutenant Morgan Davis
Lieutenant, Junior Grade Michael Blackwell
and Ensign Jim "Blues" Haley"

He pauses there to take out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and unfold it to read, "By the order of the Provisional Colonial Government, Admiral Robin Io acting, these individuals have demonstrated the 'most conspicuous bravery, a daring or preeminent act of valor and self-sacrifice, and extreme devotion to duty in the presence of the enemy.' They have paid the highest price anyone can possibly give for their people, simply because they knew it had to be done, and we honor that act today by granting these individuals the highest honor we can grant, the Colonial Order of Honor. We hope these individuals will be held up in our memory for generations to come, as individuals that epitomize the very qualities the rest of us hope to be." There's another pause after reciting that bit, before the paper is refolded and he calls out, "Detail, Attention!"

Petra steps to the side and turns to face the observation screens, while one of the junior officers at the periphery signals CIC to proceed. The Orion slowly completes its lazy roll away from the planet it's parked around and the deck shudders under the simultaneous firing of the Battlestar's main gun arrays, three times in slow succession.Petra steps to the side and turns to face the observation screens, while one of the junior officers at the periphery signals CIC to proceed. The Orion slowly completes its lazy roll away from the planet it's parked around and the deck shudders under the simultaneous firing of the Battlestar's main gun arrays, three times in slow succession.

At her place along the wall, when Ben's name is mentioned, Inez suddenly straightens more, if it were possible for the rigid posture mourning to do so. Her eyes refocus on the current time and place and she jerks her head to the right. Her nostrils flare briefly as she takes in a quick, deeper, breath, then another, slower, longer breath. Her hand raises to her cheek, and she swallows once, before her jaw tightens and she fights the bright sheen welling in her eyes.

The Lucky Strikes Squadron Leader now stands at attention along with all others as the ceremony proceeds. Idris's face is unreadable, watching straight ahead as Petra speaks and then the ship begins her roll to change course to fire her guns in salute of the dead. No doubt he's thinking about his own ECO who died on that mission, how she was lost. His breathing is a little elevated and he swallows, and as the guns begin to fire, he raises his right hand to salute their dead as well, paying them his utmost respect.

Donovan glances over towards Inez when the names are listed and he takes a deep breath, but other than that, he remains still. He heard Ben's last words and so knows that this is a difficult moment. He stands there, just listening, until the last name his called. He too stands just a little straighter. Lieutenant Haley had been his responsibility. He was his ECO for the mission. His flying was… He shuts down the thought. He isn't going to take away from what Blues and all the other sacrificed. That any of them made it back is a testament to their courage and skill. He waits for the shuddering of the guns and he closes his eyes for a moment. Under his breath he says so very softly. "Hey Blues… do a brother a solid and tell Voodoo that I said I love you and I miss you."

Yari snaps to attention and flinches just once in response to the tremors. She holds her breath through the remainder of the gunfire.

It's war, and losses are inevitable. The fallen have earned their battle honors and their moment of rememberance and farewell, and Niko stands at attention along with all the rest, paying his due. His expression is solemn and respectful, but without signs of sorrow.

In the crew gathered in attendance is Dr. Stone along with as many of the medical staff as could fit into the allotted space. The old surgeon's expression holds regret that well aged and deeply ingrained, a lifetime or so of service and the loss of so many friends that are both near and dear and some that were only briefly known. The CMO gives a small start of surprise, glancing to her side then back around the assembled gathered crew and saluting with the rest, staring through the armored pane of glass as the guns begin to fire.

The Commander is in no hurry, giving the silence several seconds to pervade before he turns to address the detail again and clears his throat, "Before we continue, someone the away team was able to rescue off of Golf, from our new ally, would like to say something." With that said, he looks off to the side and nods to Rozzer from where he's been waiting, unclipping the tiny microphone from his vest to hand it over.

The man who steps up to the mic is someone that very few people on the ship would know. Hes in his early thirties with a thick, bushy beard that goes halfway down his chest. It makes the idea of beardless identification nearly impossible. Hes wearing an odd camouflage pattern that seems to draw in the shadows actively. He isnt wearing any kit or a hat, but he made an effort to starch the field camo that he has with him. Hey, all. Id like to thank Commander Petra for letting me say a few words here at your memorial. Ill keep it pointed and brief for you.

He speaks a little too close to the mic, not sure how the thing works. But his words arent terribly loud so it works. Without getting into names and ranks, my teammates call me Rozzer. Im my teams radio operator. We were the people on the ground that you couldnt identify and the same who requested the strike be flown. He doesnt read from cards, he just looks at the faces. My team of six had just realized that we had lost our space-based contact. It was not just our ride out, but also our only way to alert my people that we needed the strike flown. And right when things seemed darkest, we heard a voice calling back to us. It wasnt our people. It was your own. We had no way to verify who you were. You couldnt know who we were. After we hung up the call I looked at my team leader and told him that you all said you were from Kobol. Rozzer looks serious as he looks over the faces. We actually debated if we had died. Theres no humor in his voice. We made the call to trust you. Every ounce of training said we shouldnt, but we could not ignore the name Kobol or what it meant to us and our history. The grenadier actually wondered jokingly if it was the Orion. To us, the Orion was just a legend of a ship we had heard from the Arpay. Crewed by descendants of rebel Erfriki who refused to abandon the galaxy to the Skath, they stayed behind to fight and apparently still carried our battle flag.

Rozzer puts his hands on each side of the podium. You all flew the strike on nothing but faith. You gave up six brothers and sisters for us on that idea. I want to look you all in the eye and tell you what you hit: This was not some political target. The prison colony you call Golf-51 is, or was, a biological weapons outpost. The Kedder, our enemy, take their war prisoners there and put them to work at the facility in different capacities. Some of it is human testing. The targets we marked for your aircrews were the chemical and biological storage facilities for the weapons they have been developing. You did not save the lives of hundreds of thousands of my people. You saved them as well as the dozens of other races the Keddar may have used these weapons on. Rozzer holds his eyes on the group. Like you, we award medals for bravery and to honor the people weve lost. I wish I had words to express the appreciation we carry on behalf of my people. The truth is that I dont. When I get home I have to inform five wives that their husbands will not be returning. I will try to explain how it happened. The worst part is that right now, and not for some time, can I explain what happened on Golf-51. But when it comes out? We will sing the song of your men and women along with our own. Warriors are warriors. No one can take that from those you have lost, nor those who returned. No one can take that spirit from you except yourselves. Remember that as you go downrange. I wish to hell I was going with you. Thank you, Orion.

Niko's attention shifts to Rozzer as the man steps forward. He's aware of the Erfriki but hasn't spoken with the man, but the CAG can appreciate his words and fixes his attention on the Erfriki to listen to them.

Idris has stopped saluting once the guns have ceased firing. He continues to stand at attention, heels together, white gloved fingers aligned by the seams of his pants. The Captain with the scarred up face watches Rozzer and remembers him from the Rhino flight back. The ranks of Orion personnel are silent, listening and attentive all over the deck.

The look on Diaz's face is stunned as Rozzer explains exactly what it is that their bombing runs were aimed at. She glances sidelong, mostly from face to face to observe reactions from the other pilots and the rest of the crew.

Donovan lower his hand from his salute when the guns cease. He recognizes that man at the podium that is speaking. He remembers him from the end of the mission. He was on the Rhino on the ride home. He didn;t know who he was and hadn't had a chance to speak with him. He listens to the words and he fully comes to understand that… the price of his mission was higher than any of them knew… others, not of the Orion, were fighting as well. And dying. The kind of enemy they face. One that would use chemical and biological weapons. Horrific weapons. At the same time… he also knows now, without a doubt, that they are not fighting alone anymore either. He pulls his focus back to the moment at hand and he gives his attention over to Rozzer.

Inez stands at attention as the guns send off their salute, chewing the inside of her lower front lip. She's noted her daughter, standing at attention for the salute, and even manages a little smile of sympathy when Yari flinches. When Rozzer stands up to the podium, she has to concentrate on her deep breathing, taking a few breaths for control of her expression. Her eyes lose their focus again, and she may, or may not, be listening to the stranger brought back from Golf. She turns her head again, this time to the left, and she blinks, the fingers of her left hand flexing reflexively. "Please, don't…" she barely whispers the words, not even realizing she's breathed them as a single tear tracks suddenly down her cheek.

The Corpsman's hand returns quietly to her side. Through the words of Rozzer, Yari's concept of the universe and war grows just a little bit bigger. Three months ago, she would not have believed there were other civilizations beyond the colonies. She'd had no reason to, no one to tell her differently. But now? The war they fight feels even more important. And more scary. She hadn't given thought to chemical warfare. How does one run from that which they cannot see? A roving glance goes over her shoulder to ensure that Inez is still there. The fingers of her right hand twitch, angling out from her hip to strain a couple rearward in her direction. A sneaky, imitation handhold.

The Commander takes a moment for Rozzer's words to trail off and murmurs, "Thank you, sir." He gives the man another moment to hand the mic clip back, reattaching it before he clears his throat again, "The following officers report, front and center:

Lieutenant, Junior Grade Melissa Wescott
Ensign Adura Diaz
Captain Idris Bloodfeather
Lieutenant Donovan Corric
Major Elena Heron
Ensign Casey Quinn"

After reading the names, he glances over at Niko and nods slightly to signal him to come over, and Adeliza to follow with the tray off of the table. Petra himself steps over to the front, assuming position one for the first name to take and face him.

Niko moves on cue, taking position on Petra's right-hand side, one pace back from the XO. The CAG draws himself up and watches as the surviving air crew from Golf-51 make their way to the front of the formation. There's a quick check to make sure Adeliza is ready with the tray beside him, then Niko turns back to the ceremony.

Finally, Adeliza does tuck her hair before she picks up the tray, and she gives a nod to Niko when he double checks her position. Her expression is solemn as she watches the officers called begin to line up, but her head is held high with pride for these men and women.

When called forward, Captain Bloodfeather leaves his position in the line of pilots and walks up to assemble where Commander Petra has ordered them to stand. There in his formal dress grays he stands as he watches his fellow pilots and surving ECO gather in a line. He stands in the order they were called with Diaz to one side and Corric on the other, standing at attention.

Donovan looks up with a faintest frown. He obeys the order given and steps out of the line he is standing in and files to the front of the room with others who were called forward. He stands at attention once he reaches the front of the room.

Diaz hesitates for only a moment, a half second really, though that's just long enough to have her be the last one to fall in with the rest of the pilots ordered forward.

Once the air crew have assembled, Petra pulls that piece of paper back out and reads off of it slowly in a deep voice, "By the order of the Provisional Colonial Government, Admiral Robin Io acting, the following six individuals have amply demonstrated 'heroism and extraordinary achievement while engaged in action against an enemy of the Twelve Colonies, performed in the presence of great danger or at great personal risk and renders the individuals highly conspicuous among others of equal grade, rate, experience, or position of responsibility.' and as such, effective this date, June 25, 2049, are commended the Colonial Medal of Valor, with our inadequate thanks and respect."

With that said, he straightens up and salutes Idris, being the first one in line, and pauses to shake his hand and offer something under his breath in grim congratulations, before stepping aside to give Niko the space to take over and actually pin the medal to the man's greys.

Niko goes down the line in Petra's wake. Each of the honorees gets a salute and a congratulatory handshake from the CAG as well. And then Niko turns to receive a medal from Adeliza before pinning one onto each person's uniform. The Fleet's second highest award is not bestowed lightly. Normally he'd prefer to be grinning and joking at an award ceremony, but this is too solemn an occassion for that.

There is a very slight widening of Idris's eyes in surprise as Petra speaks, reading from his paper. And then the Commander steps in front of himself and salutes him! Captain Idris Khesu Bloodfeather, also known as 'Vogue' smartly returns the salute, then continues to stand at attention as his CAG takes Petra's place. Niko's salute is also crisply returned, then accepts the handshakes with a quietly murmured, "Thank you, Sir." To each of them. The Canceron born pilot looks quite surprised and maybe even a little shaken to be receiving this award. He shares eye contact briefly with Adeliza and then resumes standing perfectly still as his commanding officers continue down the line.

Yari continues to solemnly watch the ceremony at hand, standing nearly within arm's reach of Inez, but keeping hands to self for sake of maintaining formal posture (As her player munches dessert). The occaional glance of concern flits over shoulder to her mother's threatening tears.

In the back, standing among Marines and probably his wife Bennett, Lleufer keeps watching. It has been a solumn ceremony for their deceased what withthe Orion firing her guns three times and all of them assembled in their dress greys. He continues to stand at attention as the award portion proceeds, looking proud to serve on this ship with men and women like these.

Donovan stands at attention waiting his turn in the line of his fellow pilots and ECO's. He raises an eyebrow just slightly as the order is read to the room and he stands just that much straighter. It's an honor to receive such an award, even in times like this. His fingertips lightly touch the side of his pants leg, the outline of the hex shaped tag he always carries with him. "How'd I do Dad?" he asks nearly silently under his breath just before the Senior Officers reach him in line. He offers an solemn nod and a "Thank you Sir." to each in turn, listening intently to their words before return to attention for the others to be recognized.

With composure that is tenuous at best, and with a not minor effort of will, Diaz keeps her expression as professional as possible while returning the salute and hand shake. "Sir, thank you sir," she says in a clear but quiet voice.

Petra precedes Niko to each of the officers when they line up, taking a moment to exchange a salute, then shake their hand and congratulate them. Once he himself gets to the end of the line, he takes a step back to watch Niko finish pinning each of them, waiting for the man to step back as well before he raises his voice, "In our sorrow for those we lost, we take solace in the knowledge that their loss, and the heroism of those that returned, have done great works, and earned us something that may prove to be the key in stopping the enemy that threatens to erase us to history."

He pauses for a moment, before adding, "Detail, Attention! Dismissed." And with that said, remains there for a moment longer, letting his gaze drift over each of the just-honored flight officers with a grim expression.

The hand that Yari had held out is taken as the officers called file to the front. The fingers that clasp hers are cold, and perhaps they shake just a little. Inez stands next to her daughter, now, her eyes focused forward as she watches the somber ceremony unfold. "He should be there with them," she whispers quietly, so that only Yari, and perhaps if someone nearby has Arpay ears, can hear.

Idris inhales a long breath when they are dismissed, then looks to Diaz and Corric, along with the others who have thus been awarded this evening. "I think I could use a drink." The Captain doesn't mean tea this time, either. He lays a hand briefly on Diaz's shoulder, then offers Corric a slight smile, "I am grateful to have both of you still among my Squadron. You have done me proud, both of you." His words are offered low. "Our Gentleman Ghosts, as well."

Once his duty is done Niko steps back for the final call to attention and the end of the ceremony. The CAG falls out once they're dismissed, retreating to the front table to speak quietly with the XO for a moment.

Diaz tucks one hand briefly into a pocket and comes up with a dozen or so rolled bits of paper and passes them around to the rest of the wing. "Spitwads, for Timber," she says in a low voice before she glances up at the Captain and feels a small tug of an almost smile trying to form on her face. "A drink or two seems like a really good idea, Sir. And thank you," she looks sidelong to Donovan too. "I'm proud to serve with all of you, sirs."

The small piece of paper Diaz puts into his dark hand is looked at. Idris looks at it solemnly, "I'm going to miss Ben. I liked him." There's at least one drawing of 'Timber' in his sketchbooks. The tiny piece of paper is put into his mouth and quietly wetted. Once it's put back into his hand, he rolls it up and tosses it out over the heads of his fellow crew in their dress grays.

Donovan takes a long deep breath after the ceremony ends. He looks down at the medal he was given. He hopes his father would be proud of him. He looks up, shaken from his reverie when Diaz approaches and he smiles. "I saw him making these the other day." he says of the spitwads. He then looks over towards Diaz and he offers her a nod to acknowledge her words. "Likewise Adura." he says to her with a warm smile. He used her first name to let her know just how much he means what he says. "I'm going to miss him too." he adds. "Blues too… never got to hear him play." he pauses. "One day maybe." he says after a moment.

Petra turns and lowers his head to speak to Niko and Adeliza for a few moments, nodding slightly in agreement. He offers the CAG a momentary, tightlipped smile, then offers something further to Adeliza before stepping away. Running a hand down the front of the vest of his greys, he looks over the air crew one more time, then lowers his head a bit and starts for the corridor without saying another word.

Yari gives those chilled fingers a firm squeeze and once the Commander has ordered them dismissed, she turns to enfold more than just her mother's hand. "I suspect he hasn't gone far," she whispers back, arms wrapped around Inez's shoulders for a quick, somewhat self-conscious hug. She draws a shaky breath and brushes something off her lashes. "I imagine what you meant to him."

Once they start to break up and drifting out, some speaking in small groups, Idris eases through the crowd to see about going off and finding himself a drink. And to think about the recent mission, with those whom could not be here tonight, among the living.

Diaz follows suit and flicks the bit of wadded up paper across the room to bounce off of the armored pane of glass. "I'll miss the wide eyed way he seemed to view everything," she chimes in as she lets out a sigh. "I'd never seen anyone so alarmed by the open space in a arboretum before," said with a slow shake of her head before she skims one hand lightly over her hair then stares down at the medal that is pinned to her dress uniform as well. She starts to say something then stops, lips compressing to a straight line before she passes out more of the bits of paper. "Mike was a damned good ECO, and I hardly knew him. Sixteen hours seems like a lifetime stuck in the same tin can waiting to get from point A to point B. But he was a good ECO."

Donovan nods to Diaz. "I know…" he then stops cold. He reaches inside his tunic and he takes out some pages. "I almost forgot." he says with a shake of his head. He unfolds the sheets. They were torn out of his kneeboard. It has tons of notes and scrawled musical notes and such on it. "Yeah… 16 hours and me managed to pull off a couple songs." he says. "He loved music." he says after a moment. He looks over the pages, containing his and Blues handwriting. "I gotta find a keyboard I can try to play this on." he says softly after a moment.

"I'll be there's on on Mother," Diaz says as she starts to tuck her hands into her pockets, then changes course and runs her hands through her hair instead. "I need to change out of this monkey suit. And find a drink. Or several." She looks around the room that is slowly emptying and lowers her head slightly, "Excuse me," is offered before she ducks through the crowd and away.

Inez is fine with being hugged, but she lets Yari go when self consciousness sets in. "He is… I can't explain." She shakes her head. As the entire thing wraps up, Inez looks at the officers clustered up front with their medals and she compresses her lips. A long exhale, and she turns to her daughter, trying to smile at least a little. "I think I'll head back to my bunk."

"Want company?" Yari echoes the poor smile, then nods her head at the thining group. "Might put in a word of congratulations before I go. Those who haven't snuck away, anyway." Which of course leaves Donovan at this point. Seeing that he's a bit preoccupied with paper, she makes her approach cautiously, hands picking at the too-stiff belt at her waist.

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