Gallente Shuttle Wreck
Joined: 09 Mar 2006
Location: Six Feet Under
|Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2008 9:46 pm Post subject: The Orieku Memorial
|It was so small that it didn’t matter how illegal it might be. It wouldn’t be picked up by the sensors, and if they came for it well, then they came for it didn’t they. Just as he would have wished it, apparently.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t stand the gravity.” She bit her lip and smiled to herself at the poor pun, his understanding laughter rolling across her mind. She thought of all those solemn faces looking down at the damp earth below them, remembering only how it ended and not how it had all begun. Speaking only good things that sad day. That was just a part of the story they knew, so much that many remembered were just parts. His family would remember it all, the good as well as the bad.
She was pleased with how effortlessly it had slid out of her Thorax bay and into orbit. As if it had always been waiting to be delivered just there - floating as it overlooked the planet like he sometimes did. Just another unexplained part of him that would remain this way.
Someday a passing ship might notice and report it, or perhaps a giant freighter on an interplanetary trade run would simply shatter it into a thousand broken fragments. These were the risks we all took. Like all things, he would have said, it would only last so long. She forced a smile as he would have.
She imagined what it would be like, if only she didn’t need oxygen for just a few moments, to sit there and look up at the nebula through white flowers that too, were living on a borrowed time. Is that where you are now, she could wonder, gazing out over the brilliant light of a thousand stars being born anew. Is that where those wings took you?
It had been almost a year now, she couldn’t quite remember the exact day anymore and didn‘t have the heart to ask anyone else. It just felt as if it had been that about that long and that was good enough for the both of them. No reason to feel guilty. She had a sense it was the sort of thing he would have forgotten too, because what mattered really, was that she’d always find a way back to remembering.
A single day to remember? She could hear him questioning the idea in overly serious derision. Every day we remember, he’d answer rhetorically, proud of his own answer, his own choices.
She cleared her ships location data archives, leaving it to look down on Orieku in silent, lonely peace. As she activated her warp drives and watched it fade away, she heard his voice finish the thought.
Each in our own little way.