Title: Memorial Day
Author: Stephen Ratliff
Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
Time: right after the loss of the Enterprise-D
Marrissa stepped of the shuttle with the rest of the former
Enterprise's Command Crew. They stood to the side as the coffin
was taken out, saluting the honor of the fourth Captain of the
original Enterprise, James T. Kirk, about to take his place among
the honored dead in Star Fleet's cemetery over looking San Pablo
Bay. Then they took their place in the precession towards the
soon to be empty no longer tomb of Star Fleet's greatest hero.
It was a ceremony of mostly empty speeches, devoid of any
real content or feeling. Here, some seventy years after his
disappearance, few of his contemporaries remained, and many of
those were in such poor health that they could not make it to the
grave site. Only Admiral Pavel Chekov represented Kirk's command
crews here, and he chose to make his remarks brief, stating that
"no words can adequately convey the adventures and importance of
the man, so my silent prescience and gratitude for all Captain
James T. Kirk did for me, will have to do."
By the time taps played, the collar of Marrissa's dress
uniform was really bothering the young Lieutenant junior grade.
Still, she stood at attention, ramrod straight, as Kirk's coffin
was lowered into the tomb below the statue of Kirk seated in his
original command chair.
Soon the ceremony was over, but for Marrissa, she had
another stop to make. Two small bundles of white chrysanthemums
in her hands, she made her way across the field, past row upon
row of honored dead, almost 300 years of Star Fleet's honored
dead that had chosen to be buried planet side. Finally, she came
to the row she was seeking. Tears in her eyes, she placed the
flowers on her parent's graves.
She read the inscriptions, before her tears could obscure
her vision. "George Earl Flores, 2340-2370, Security Officer,
USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D, husband and father. Margaret Dawson
Flores, 2341-2370, Security Officer, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D,
wife and mother."
As tears ran down Marrissa's face, they washed away the
image of Lieutenant Marrissa Picard, Star Fleet Officer, leaving
behind only Marrissa Flores, a girl who had lost her parents
barely a year before. Quiet sobs came from the barely teenage
girl as she remembered her parents.
How her father always called her 'Princess' and always had
time for her. The swordsmanship lessons she'd demanded from him.
He always said he was amazed a how quickly she'd grasped each new
technic. And how proud he was of her when she brought home her
good grades. Tears flowed.
How her mother helped Marrissa through her first period, and
the problems it caused. And the cooking lessons, that Marrissa
never seemed to grasp, but her mother never seemed to mind the
disasters in the family kitchen.
So much of it was missed by the young girl, now kneeling
before her parent's grave. Suddenly she felt a comforting hand
on her shoulder. It was Counselor Troi. Marrissa sniffled,
trying to bring her emotions back under control.
"It's okay, Marrissa," Troi said. "Let it go."
Marrissa clung to Troi, crying into Troi's uniform. Troi
held the young girl in an comforting embrace, before the graves.
The cleansing tears darkened Troi's uniform, in the midst of the
rows upon rows of Star Fleet's fallen. In the distance, stood
each member of the Enterprise's Command team, each alone with
their own fallen friends and family, some paths of remembrance
fresh, and others well worn.
Together they mourned those that had given their lives for
the Federation on this Memorial Day. Over the field of heroes,
the strains of "Taps" still echoed.
Author: Stephen Ratliff
Series: TNG, Marrissa Stories
Time: right after the loss of the Enterprise-D
Marrissa stepped of the shuttle with the rest of the former
Enterprise's Command Crew. They stood to the side as the coffin
was taken out, saluting the honor of the fourth Captain of the
original Enterprise, James T. Kirk, about to take his place among
the honored dead in Star Fleet's cemetery over looking San Pablo
Bay. Then they took their place in the precession towards the
soon to be empty no longer tomb of Star Fleet's greatest hero.
It was a ceremony of mostly empty speeches, devoid of any
real content or feeling. Here, some seventy years after his
disappearance, few of his contemporaries remained, and many of
those were in such poor health that they could not make it to the
grave site. Only Admiral Pavel Chekov represented Kirk's command
crews here, and he chose to make his remarks brief, stating that
"no words can adequately convey the adventures and importance of
the man, so my silent prescience and gratitude for all Captain
James T. Kirk did for me, will have to do."
By the time taps played, the collar of Marrissa's dress
uniform was really bothering the young Lieutenant junior grade.
Still, she stood at attention, ramrod straight, as Kirk's coffin
was lowered into the tomb below the statue of Kirk seated in his
original command chair.
Soon the ceremony was over, but for Marrissa, she had
another stop to make. Two small bundles of white chrysanthemums
in her hands, she made her way across the field, past row upon
row of honored dead, almost 300 years of Star Fleet's honored
dead that had chosen to be buried planet side. Finally, she came
to the row she was seeking. Tears in her eyes, she placed the
flowers on her parent's graves.
She read the inscriptions, before her tears could obscure
her vision. "George Earl Flores, 2340-2370, Security Officer,
USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D, husband and father. Margaret Dawson
Flores, 2341-2370, Security Officer, USS Enterprise NCC-1701-D,
wife and mother."
As tears ran down Marrissa's face, they washed away the
image of Lieutenant Marrissa Picard, Star Fleet Officer, leaving
behind only Marrissa Flores, a girl who had lost her parents
barely a year before. Quiet sobs came from the barely teenage
girl as she remembered her parents.
How her father always called her 'Princess' and always had
time for her. The swordsmanship lessons she'd demanded from him.
He always said he was amazed a how quickly she'd grasped each new
technic. And how proud he was of her when she brought home her
good grades. Tears flowed.
How her mother helped Marrissa through her first period, and
the problems it caused. And the cooking lessons, that Marrissa
never seemed to grasp, but her mother never seemed to mind the
disasters in the family kitchen.
So much of it was missed by the young girl, now kneeling
before her parent's grave. Suddenly she felt a comforting hand
on her shoulder. It was Counselor Troi. Marrissa sniffled,
trying to bring her emotions back under control.
"It's okay, Marrissa," Troi said. "Let it go."
Marrissa clung to Troi, crying into Troi's uniform. Troi
held the young girl in an comforting embrace, before the graves.
The cleansing tears darkened Troi's uniform, in the midst of the
rows upon rows of Star Fleet's fallen. In the distance, stood
each member of the Enterprise's Command team, each alone with
their own fallen friends and family, some paths of remembrance
fresh, and others well worn.
Together they mourned those that had given their lives for
the Federation on this Memorial Day. Over the field of heroes,
the strains of "Taps" still echoed.