fanfic_name = Gotterdammerung

chapter = Epilogue

author = Cicero_Phelps

dedicate = Everyone in my author's note and beyond who have helped me rough this out to the story it is.

Rating = AP15

Type = Angst

fanfic = Epilogue

 

 

The body of Henry J. Gloval, Admiral, USSR, UEG, and SDF-1, was laid out to rest in a coffin of finest mahogany, lined with white silk, and dressed in his full dress uniform, complete with cap. His pip was laid in the crook of his left arm, and his medals were laid out on the side table next to him. They were laid out by order of the countries he served; the Order of Lenin, the Order of Ushakov First Class (awarded twice), the Order of the Red Banner, the Medal for Valor, and three Gold Stars from the USSR for conduct during the Global Civil War, the UEG Medal of Exploration, the Terran Medal of Honor (for conduct at the Battle of the Line, as well as commanding the SDF-1 back home through hostile assaults). All of these were accompanied by a host of honorary decorations, such as the US Congressional Medal of Honor (the only non-US recipient ever to earn it), the Israeli Star of David, and the British Order of the British Empire, from the various nations of the UEG for various brave acts over the course of his fifty-seven years, of which more than half were spent in uniformed service to the people of Earth.

 

Brevet-Admiral Elizabeth Juliet Hayes took to the rostrum, her green eyes filled with tears that would not go away and refused to stay out of her voice. She looked into the crowd, down at the front row of attendees, to steady herself. Claudia looked pretty good, her injuries were healing, and she had needed no bandages from her ordeal in the rebel’s prison. Kim and Sammie were equally as healed.

 

Vanessa, though, was not as fortunate. She had been shot through the spine in the final assault and escape from Mount St. Helens, and the doctors were unable to repair the damaged areas without making them worse, so she had been told she would, in all likelihood, be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She had refused to take that as an answer, however, and was pushing herself through painful therapy to regain the use of her legs. Lisa had to smile through her tears at the thought of her friend’s courage.

 

The chapel on board the SDF-1 offered limited space for such a memorial service, but it had been selected for it’s ramp that allowed bodies to be lowered into the lake after the funeral services. Rick stood at her left, two paces to the rear. He was wearing a face of grim stoicism, his jaw set in fierce determination not to break down during the service. Max was seated at the right side of the rostrum, looking off into space. Since Miriya had died, he seemed an empty shell of his former cheerful, optimistic self, a defeated, bitter man. Rick had told her that, in time, Max would come around, that her death was too fresh in his mind to feel otherwise. She hoped he was right.

 

Lisa stepped forward, cleared her throat, and began her speech. “My friends, fellow officers, and honored comrades, I welcome you.

 

“This service, held in honor of our commander and friend, Henry Gloval, is not to focus on his stellar career, his command confidence, or any other matter that is part of public record. I wanted to speak of him as a person, a surrogate father to me when I needed it most,” she said, her voice catching at the mention of the word father.

 

“Henry Gloval was a friend of my father, Admiral Donald Hayes. One night, when I was eleven or twelve, I remember my dad bringing him over for drinks, introducing him as an ‘old war buddy’ and telling me to call him ‘uncle’. ‘Uncle Henry’ was always around the house more than my father ever was, as dad’s duties for the new government kept him out late at night. Uncle Henry was part of dad’s staff, but dad always thought of his crew before he thought of himself, so when he got out from dad’s staff meetings, he came over to our house to eat dinner with me and ask how my day had been. I often felt that, by talking to him, I was talking to my own dad, and that kept my family together.”

 

Lisa spread her hands openly towards the crowd. “I know each of you have their own stories to tell about how this great, truly special man touched each and every life in this room. There isn’t time enough to read them all, but I’d be honored if, in the days and weeks to come, you would all seek me out, individually, and share them with me.”

 

Struggling to stand up fully, she came to attention, saluted the casket, and said, “From the sea we came, to the sea we return, from now until the end of time. In honor of this, we commit this soul to the deep.”

 

She nodded at the ensign at the lever, who began his operations, and the Bo’sun’s mate piped the whistle, bringing everyone to their feet. The casket moved along a conveyor belt towards the far end of the room, directly over the lake, and started lowering through the floor. Four bagpipe players came through the door, playing “Amazing Grace,” as the casket was gently lowered into the azure waters of the lake.

 

Lisa saluted the casket as it gently kissed the water’s edge, nestled softly into it’s embrace, and began it’s solitary journey toward the bottom, where it would rest with dignity for the rest of time. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of extreme sadness, watching her surrogate father finally rest in peace. She felt Rick’s soft hand on her shoulder and realized that she wouldn’t be alone in facing her grief; she could share it with the rest of the crew, and, most importantly, her friends and her husband to be.

 

The rays of the sun parted the clouds that had previously covered the city that was mourning its greatest champion, illuminating the chapel and the casket slowly sinking below it in a holy glow, giving the entire scene a heavenly appearance. Lisa stood slowly in the pure sunlight, bidding a silent farewell to the most important father figure in her entire life. Goodbye, ‘Uncle Henry’, I’ll see you at the journey’s end.

 

 

 

AN: Well, I started this story arc with “Racing the Bullet,” over two years ago, then expanding through “Cat and Mouse,” and into this current story, but I never intended for it to grow this far in scope! I want to extend my heartfelt appreciation for the various and sundry people who have enabled me to write and keep the inspiration flowing, and occasionally being a beta for me. The list is long and distinguished, but I know I’ll forget some names, so please be patient with me. Carla, Jo, Aiki, KnightsTemplar (who never visits the new forum any longer), gppr, and many others. I value everything you have offered me for advice, constructive criticism, and character development. Please review; I want to know if you like the end to my vision of the Robotech world.

 

State = Fin/The End

feedback = Sí/Yes

email = Lightsaber01ATHotmail.com