Memento Mori

Posted on Sun Aug 24th, 2025 @ 12:37pm by Captain Mitsu Sato & Lieutenant Vesper Wolfe & Commander Eva Grey & Lieutenant Kev Walker & Lieutenant Jaina Zalla & Lieutenant JG Alicia Santos & Ensign Matt Connor & Ensign Eric Banner & Ensign Erin Andala & Lieutenant Commander T'Mara

1,500 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Adelphous Station

The main lounge of the Eclipse was quiet in a way that felt unnatural. Usually, the space would be filled with laughter, conversation, and the ambient clatter of off duty officers. Now, the chairs had been arranged in neat rows. Two images were on display before the view ports, one with the image of Commander Karl Rogers, the other Ensign Noa Oku. Mitsu stood to the side, feeling the weight of the four gold pips on her collar even more than normal. She had attended memorial services before, but it had been years ago and a different captain had stood at the front of the room. For her, this would be the first time she had lost a member of a crew that she commanded. It was one duty of a Starfleet commander that no one wanted to face.

Eva walked rigidly into the lounge, trying to force herself to relax. The title of first officer still felt unusual, mostly because she was still trying to adjust to the sudden change. The duties she had taken on with the new position weren't difficult by any means, but she still felt somehow resistant to the mantle of executive officer for some unknown reason. Seeing the captain standing off by herself, Eva walked over. "Captain," she said in greeting.

Mitsu offered a smile towards Commander Grey, a small one that was weakened by the dark affair they were currently facing. "Commander Grey," she replied. "How are the science personnel holding up?"

"Most seem to be saddened by Noa's death, but they're holding together," Eva said. "I'm more worried about Ensign Andala. She and Noa were close friends since the Academy."

Mitsu nodded slightly, her eyes darkened as she watched several other officers enter the lounge quietly. It was almost time for the memorial service to begin. As she watched, members of the crew began to enter and find seats, their voices muted and quiet as they greeted each other if they bothered to speak at all. The loss of a crew member on any Starfleet ship was a hard blow, but on a small ship such as the Eclipse it was as if they had lost a close member of their immediate family. Placing her hand on Eva's shoulder, Mitsu nodded before she stepped towards the podium between the displayed images. She waited quietly for the chairs to be filled by grieving officers before she stepped up to the podium.

Drawing a deep breath, Mitsu had to remind herself to speak clearly. “We gather today to honor two of our own. Commander Karl Rogers, our first officer, a man of conviction, wisdom, and strength. And Ensign Noa Oku, who was bright, curious, with a future ahead of her as vast as the stars. They gave their lives in service to this crew and to the Federation.” Her gaze swept across the rows of silent faces. “We cannot change what happened. But we can remember them. To carry them and to learn what happened to them. In doing so, we ensure their sacrifice is not forgotten.”

As Mitsu spoke, Eva forced her face to remain composed, though her throat felt tight. She would not weep in public. She had already wept alone. Instead, she locked her eyes on Noa’s picture and silently promised that the young ensign’s light would not be extinguished by memory alone.

Vesper’s hands gripped the armrests of her chair, knuckles white. She had always relied on motion, on the certainty of flight at the helm, but here she was grounded. Listening to the captain’s words, she thought of Karl Rogers’ voice on the bridge, calm and steady. She thought of Noa’s laugh, overheard once in the mess hall. She shifted in her seat, eyes glassy, and stared at the stars beyond the lounge windows. For the first time, they looked colder.

Jaina’s uniform collar felt suffocating, her breath shallow. She had been there. She had seen it all, endured the dark coldness of the station, heard the sound of the creature, seen the nightmarish image of the thing as it coldly took first Ensign Oku and then the commander. She had felt the heat of the explosion that had claimed the commander, smelled the acrid smoke, seen the creature take phaser blast after phaser blast and keep coming. And she had survived. They had not. As the captain spoke, Jaina pressed her palms into her thighs, nails biting fabric, fighting against the tremor in her hands. Guilt burned in her chest. She had been responsible for their safety, and she had failed.

Matt’s jaw was clenched so hard it ached. Rogers had been everything he wanted to be, strong, decisive, respected. Since the commander had helped Matt turn his attitude around and helped him get started on the right path of being a Starfleet officer, he’d studied the commander’s every move on duty, taking mental notes, hoping one day to measure up. Now that future had been stolen. He stared at the captain, but his vision swam with hot tears he refused to let fall. His chest felt like it might split apart. Rogers was gone, and Matt had no idea who to look up to anymore.

Eric’s heart hammered in his chest, sweat prickling the back of his neck. He had been there. He had felt the air burn in his lungs as they ran. He had watched Rogers and Oku fall. He could still taste the puke when he had thrown up in the shuttle. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it all over again. Now, with everyone silent around him, the memory threatened to overwhelm him. He wasn’t sure he deserved to be sitting here, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit there. Eric swallowed and made himself remain still in his chair.

Kev sat with his arms folded and his posture deceptively relaxed. His mind raced with endless thoughts though. He hadn’t known Noa well, she had been a junior science officer and a name in duty rotations. But Rogers had worked with him, building the new rotation manifest for operations and getting the new crew lined out. He had held a presence on the bridge that you couldn't ignore. Kev exhaled slowly through his nose, glancing at the younger officers around him. They were perhaps going to be more shaken by this than the older and more experienced officers. He already knew that Banner would need an eye kept on him once he was cleared for duty.

Alicia sat quietly in the back row. She hadn't known Ensign Oku very well, so her thoughts didn't dwell on the young woman much. She thought of Rogers, who had once stepped up to help her in the impulse engineering control room during a potential crisis. He had had a reassuring manner about him that carried more weight than a hundred words. Her eyes closed briefly as she listened and she let the captain’s words sink in, and with them the realization that the ship’s wounds were deeper than anything dermal regenerators could mend.

Erin stared openly at Noa’s picture, her lips trembling. They had shared late night study sessions at the Academy, private jokes, dreams whispered in bunks. Noa had been more than a friend, she had been family. They had been overjoyed to be both stationed to the same ship, and now that spark of joy was gone from Erin's life. As the captain spoke, Erin’s nails dug into her palms as a futile anchor against the flood of grief. Noa should have been sitting there beside her. Instead, she was gone.

T’Mara observed in silence, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Emotion was not a Vulcan indulgence but that didn't mean that she didn't understand the weight of loss. She saw it written across every face: grief, guilt, pain, confusion. Her gaze lingered on the younger officers who had survived the away mission as well as those who had been more deeply affected by the loss. They would need guidance, healing, and stability. She made a mental note to follow up with each of them. Rogers and Oku were gone, but the living needed tending, too.

Mitsu finished her speech, inwardly surprised that her voice hadn't broken. She let the silence stretch, honoring the moment before she spoke one final time. “We will not forget these fallen officers who were not only our shipmates, but our friends and in some ways our family. They are part of us, and will live on forever in our memories.”

Mitsu stepped back and let the silence linger, broken only by the sound of chairs scraping and the shuffle of boots. She watched silently as the crew dispersed in silence. Some lingered by the images, others fled quickly, unable to bear it any longer. But all of them carried the weight of loss with them.

 

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