"Peace and prosperity," gets called back with a return wave. Fever's also about as formal as she can get - which isn't much, but they make do with what they have. This whole ceremony, if one calls it that, is them just figuring out something that for all the gaps in it, the sentiment will make up for it. Still, something feels odd if she thinks about it in the sense of mourning them, so she'll settle on honoring what they did, and remembering them.
"You've got a better idea than me, then. The most I managed to sort out in my memories is that there's so many different things one could do - but what I chose to involve, I think they'll approve of." A pause. "What did you bring with you?"
'A lantern,' says Tayrey, 'and this.' She pulls from her pocket a length of wire with some colorful wooden beads threaded along it. She wraps it around a nearby tree branch, in a loose spiral. In her mind, there's one bead for each of the people she's remembering, but she'll keep that to herself. This isn't the time for debates about who should count and who shouldn't, the digging up of painful memories for adversarial purposes.
'I thought I'd give a speech,' she says then, turning back to Fever. 'I thought about it, but it's just us, and now that we're here, it doesn't feel right.' Too performative. Procedure for the sake of procedure. It's more important that it means something.
'If we were shipside, I'd have had to- tell their families, you know? Whoever was left. Write that they were gone, and how they went.' For whatever value of gone they were, dead or otherwise. Tayrey bites her lip. 'Maybe we just talk about them. I'll light the lantern. There are a lot of traditions where light is...'
She pauses, because she's overthinking again, and she realises that what she really needs is authenticity. 'What did you choose?'
In answer, Fever pulls a thin notebook from her pack, where it's been resting since this morning.
"There was a place I visited back when I was still getting my bearings. An old library in an abandoned temple, one of those places that got overgrown and really was more suited for travelers keeping the rain off than a place in service. But there was a book there in the midst of the others, where someone had written down the names and last words of those that had died."
They don't exactly have last words, last wishes. Nor a clear picture of how everyone left. At least they don't have to write those missives, tell people leagues and worlds away that someone may have fallen into great danger.
"The names part seemed the most important. Remember their names, and remember who they are that way. Saying they were here, it's been recorded. If...that seems suitable."
She nods solemnly. 'Back home, when we speak of the dead, we say may they never be forgotten. I think that recording their names is a perfect way of doing that. A record that'll be here even when you and I go.' Not to death, but to the Tradelines for her, and wherever Fever's bargain with Mortanne will take her.
Then Tayrey bends down, and it only takes a minute for her to get out her kerosene lantern and set it to burning brightly. She picks it up by the handle, slides it along a tree branch so it can hang there, swaying a little at suitable height.
And then she speaks again, her words taking on ritual intensity. An initial calling of names, before any more detailed reflections.
'We remember Commander John Crichton. We remember Rita Mordio.'
She looks to Fever, inviting her to say the next few.
As Tayrey sets up the lantern, Fever gets a pen from her bag as well, opening to the blank page. She isn't sure what will become of the rest of the book - if it'll remain blank, or slowly fill with those that come, those that go. Some might stay, others might falter. But these people, she wants to remember.
And if the very last page in the back, after all the other blank pages, is inscribed with the names of the companions she no longer travels beside, it's for her own sake. In case somehow her memory falters again.
Ari speaks, and Fever writes, swift and clear. As she continues, she does the same.
"We remember Lady Cassandra de Rolo. We remember Natsuno Yuuki. We remember Arthur Lester."
Souls whose hopes and prayers had gone up with that beacon, even if what had come to pass did.
It's Clarke she thinks of next. Clarke Griffin who took the dying Tayrey as her commander. The only person who had seen the results of that mission as hopeful opportunity and not disastrous failure, who had comforted her when she was most in need of it, who had pledged to take up her work when she no longer had the strength. Who didn't fuss over the rights or welfare or a captor who didn't give a single thought for theirs.
Because of Clarke Griffin, Tayrey died peaceful and not despairing. Tayrey will remember her - but the covert nature of her involvement means that she doesn't speak her name aloud. Nor does she speak of the friends she lost earlier, one way or another. This is for the launch team. Which means there is still a controversial name to be spoken.
'We remember Sparkles,' says Tayrey. She had debated with people about the origins of the little shadow, but her conclusion had always been that they were irrelevant. Sparkles took the side of freedom. Without it they would not have succeeded. If Sparkles and their captor ever were the same, they had diverged long ago.
'Sparkles was a prisoner of that ship,' she goes on, deciding it's as good a place as any to begin the more detailed recollections. 'For longer than any of us. It was a child surrounded by violence and pain, and hurt others very badly in a desperate attempt to escape. We shouldn't forget that. But we also shouldn't forget that when Sparkles was given another example, and the opportunity to do better, it did. It was beginning to discover itself as an individual, beginning to form real friendships, and to understand the importance of respecting rights. Sparkles liked games, and the little model starship I gave it, and it had never had a space all its own until I insisted it be given its own cabin. Sparkles deserved a second chance, life and freedom and healing. To grow up to be better.' A pause, and she glances up at the sky. 'In the end, Sparkles worked for our liberty as well as its own.' Tayrey's end being the launch and the days that followed.
Fever's hand writes in Sparkles's name without hesitation, another lost soul. Sufferer and suffering. There's much to be thought of in its existence, the way one must revile themself to create such. Though she hadn't met the child enough to form an opinion, she knew it mattered to enough people on the team, and without its work, there would be no beacon at all.
So she bows her head in quiet respect, listening to Ari's recounting of what she knows of it, what it was like. And at the end, the words that fall from her are sincere.
"Wherever it has gone, may it know the same liberty and joys that we do. May it grow unfettered."
Tayrey, who doesn't believe in an afterlife, suspects that on probability it's likely either still on that wretched ship, or gone forever, and that the latter is kinder. It's what she thinks about all their lost comrades - but she respects that Fever's beliefs might be different. She'd never want to take someone's hopes away from them.
She nods. 'May it never be forgotten,' she says, Tradeline-fashion, as the warm lantern-light shines of them. Then she looks again to Fever. 'Now you speak for another of them,' she prompts quietly, suspecting that Fever might have been closer to a few of them than Tayrey herself was.
Fever nods, and pauses for only half a moment before she decides who she'll speak on next.
"Rita Mordio was imprisoned before I was, but that length of time did not quell the passion in her to fight against it. A brilliant mage and scientist who I was happy to speak with, a kind and generous friend. She helped me in the Village - gave up supplies from her home to help preserve my health, because that's the kind of person she was. She liked cats, and bold fashion, and her heart belonged to Natsuno. Without her work, it would have never breached the cage. May she not be forgotten."
If Rita is on some distant shore, Fever hopes it's with Natsuno, or Jade, or anyone else she was close to that isn't here. She shouldn't have to face the uncertain new future alone.
She listens carefully, thinking of Rita. 'She had a kind heart,' Tayrey adds, 'and she was patient with me, and helped me to understand things that didn't exist in my universe. She was always concerned with my welfare, even when I had to put other concerns before my own health. Rita Mordio was a good person with sound values, and she deserved freedom. May she never be forgotten.'
Tayrey holds that there, waiting for a moment, and then she goes on:
'Natsuno Yuuki was never afraid to risk his own welfare - even his own life for a good cause. I didn't know him well, but I know that he was a valued friend to those closest to him, and that he and Rita made each other stronger together. I have very few memories of our captivity that aren't painful, but one of the few that I cherish is sitting with Yuuki, watching Earther movies that he assured me were terrible, but that were entertaining all the same. He was loyal, and held to his convictions. He was there when we needed him. May he never be forgotten.'
Fever nods. She hadn't been terribly close to Natsuno, but you don't go through nearly dying with someone and not come out with some respect. At the least, Rita thought well of him, which was important enough to consider him better.
"He was unwavering, standing up to our captor, and when I feared dying before being able to see everyone's liberation, he ensured there was a way that I would survive. I will always recognize that. May he never be forgotten."
She lets the same length of time pass, before speaking again.
"Arthur Lester was a man I was proud to name as my friend. Someone with convictions, who strove to be better, who did not quietly accept captivity. He was intelligent, brave - willing to stand up for his freedom. I remember, when we struck down our imprisonment in the Village, he fought at my back without hesitation. And he was kind to me, more so than I expected. It didn't ever feel amiss to seek him out to share company, to explain my world and hear about his in turn. We could talk about anything, it seemed. I found a great comfort in his presence, and he had my trust."
Fever remembers the look on his face when she had pressed the quarterstaff into his hands as a replacement for the cane of his he had lost in death, how touched he had seemed and how cheerfully she had talked about teaching him to potentially use it as a weapon as well. She remembers talking of gods, of the past - remembers noticing he avoided meat, and thereby only offering him snacks in the future without it.
Most acutely, she remembers falling asleep with him as something warm and furry in her arms. How it had been safe, even though he was vulnerable. For a little while, she had rested - and how he'd pulled her from her nightmares.
She hadn't known that Fever and Arthur were so close, but when she hears the other woman speak of him, she's glad of it. That they had each other. Tayrey does wonder what Fever means about Natsuno saving her from death before their liberation, but it's not the time to ask. Perhaps there will never be a time to ask; she's content to leave the whole ordeal behind them.
She focuses her attention back on Arthur. 'He never let his blindness hold him back, and I admired him for it immensely. He had courage and he didn't waver, even under pressure. He'd been through so much and never lost sight of his values. I trusted his judgement. And he-' she smiles, '-he wasn't afraid to tell me when I made mistakes.' This is a compliment, from Tayrey, who dismisses criticism from people whose values she considers incompatible with hers.
'The first time I tried to escape I went alone and I hadn't prepared enough and I almost died of hypothermia. He was worried about me. I didn't think anyone cared enough about me to worry. When I got back, the usual people mocked and criticised me for trying to escape. He was different. Oh, he scolded me!' Another soft smile from Tayrey. 'But for the lack of preparation. For the stupid mistakes I made. And he and Crichton both promised me that if I came up with a real plan I wouldn't have to go alone. They'd be my team. Back me up.'
She pauses, keeping tight control of her emotions. 'Arthur Lester kept his promise. May he never be forgotten.'
Tayrey holds the silence for him, and then it's natural for her to turn to:
'Commander John Crichton. My dear friend and comrade, honorary Tradeliner, the man who stood by me despite all the battles he had to fight. He too valued freedom, and understood what it meant to miss home. I could talk to him... about anything. I felt safe with him. He was loyal, never gave up on me, not even when I couldn't see a single point of light in the sky. He worked tirelessly with me, all those days spent on wormhole equations. I remember the way he used to talk about these strange Earther things, I'd have to ask him to clarify all the time, but sometimes it made me smile when nothing else could. I remember a timeline where he fought beside me to keep my starship safe. I remember... the way we flew together. Took a helicopter from the Village. We knew it wouldn't do any good, but we loved flying.'
Tayrey pauses again, bites her lip, pushes down the grief. 'He asked me to follow this tradition of his people if I ever lost him.' With that, Tayrey straightens up, and glances at the sky before giving a well-executed American military salute. She holds her arm in place for a long moment, and when she lowers it, she says, firmly, 'May he never be forgotten.'
Copying Tayrey when she salutes feels only natural, the proper respect afforded for their absent friend. They hold it, and Fever nods once to Tayrey's words, wanting to give them the gravity they deserve for such a dear companion. She'd known Crichton and Tayrey had a bond, one deep enough that he would negotiate in her place - and Fever knows that Ari would not name someone an honorary Tradeliner lightly. How strange it is, to know them both without the other now.
"Crichton was someone with courage so great I admired it. Someone with a heart large enough that it's a wonder it didn't burst from his chest. He stood by the people he cared for, and...persevered, even through bitterly difficult situations. I called him friend, and he allowed me room to be there for him when he needed. I remember laughing with him, and spending time trying out the arcade games - he was always better than me at the ones with firearms, for all his knowledge. And I must remember seeing you in the sky in the Village, flying together."
Despite the situation, she smiles. She hadn't known who flew what crafts, but she had watched them, guarding what little vitality she'd had in that place. One of them must have held her friends.
"May he never be forgotten."
One more.
"Lady Cassandra de Rolo was a rare person indeed. Looking at her, you would hardly believe the strength she possessed. She held her ground against me, even when I was being unreasonable, and challenged me to consider my thinking. I would have gladly fought at her side, and it was her I asked to direct me, when it came to protecting our own. She refused to give up on the idea of going home, even if the world was stacked against her, even if it cost her dearly - and I was proud to call her my ally. I only regret that I couldn't do more for her, in the end."
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no subject
"You've got a better idea than me, then. The most I managed to sort out in my memories is that there's so many different things one could do - but what I chose to involve, I think they'll approve of." A pause. "What did you bring with you?"
no subject
'I thought I'd give a speech,' she says then, turning back to Fever. 'I thought about it, but it's just us, and now that we're here, it doesn't feel right.' Too performative. Procedure for the sake of procedure. It's more important that it means something.
'If we were shipside, I'd have had to- tell their families, you know? Whoever was left. Write that they were gone, and how they went.' For whatever value of gone they were, dead or otherwise. Tayrey bites her lip. 'Maybe we just talk about them. I'll light the lantern. There are a lot of traditions where light is...'
She pauses, because she's overthinking again, and she realises that what she really needs is authenticity. 'What did you choose?'
no subject
"There was a place I visited back when I was still getting my bearings. An old library in an abandoned temple, one of those places that got overgrown and really was more suited for travelers keeping the rain off than a place in service. But there was a book there in the midst of the others, where someone had written down the names and last words of those that had died."
They don't exactly have last words, last wishes. Nor a clear picture of how everyone left. At least they don't have to write those missives, tell people leagues and worlds away that someone may have fallen into great danger.
"The names part seemed the most important. Remember their names, and remember who they are that way. Saying they were here, it's been recorded. If...that seems suitable."
no subject
Then Tayrey bends down, and it only takes a minute for her to get out her kerosene lantern and set it to burning brightly. She picks it up by the handle, slides it along a tree branch so it can hang there, swaying a little at suitable height.
And then she speaks again, her words taking on ritual intensity. An initial calling of names, before any more detailed reflections.
'We remember Commander John Crichton.
We remember Rita Mordio.'
She looks to Fever, inviting her to say the next few.
no subject
And if the very last page in the back, after all the other blank pages, is inscribed with the names of the companions she no longer travels beside, it's for her own sake. In case somehow her memory falters again.
Ari speaks, and Fever writes, swift and clear. As she continues, she does the same.
"We remember Lady Cassandra de Rolo.
We remember Natsuno Yuuki.
We remember Arthur Lester."
Souls whose hopes and prayers had gone up with that beacon, even if what had come to pass did.
no subject
Because of Clarke Griffin, Tayrey died peaceful and not despairing. Tayrey will remember her - but the covert nature of her involvement means that she doesn't speak her name aloud. Nor does she speak of the friends she lost earlier, one way or another. This is for the launch team. Which means there is still a controversial name to be spoken.
'We remember Sparkles,' says Tayrey. She had debated with people about the origins of the little shadow, but her conclusion had always been that they were irrelevant. Sparkles took the side of freedom. Without it they would not have succeeded. If Sparkles and their captor ever were the same, they had diverged long ago.
'Sparkles was a prisoner of that ship,' she goes on, deciding it's as good a place as any to begin the more detailed recollections. 'For longer than any of us. It was a child surrounded by violence and pain, and hurt others very badly in a desperate attempt to escape. We shouldn't forget that. But we also shouldn't forget that when Sparkles was given another example, and the opportunity to do better, it did. It was beginning to discover itself as an individual, beginning to form real friendships, and to understand the importance of respecting rights. Sparkles liked games, and the little model starship I gave it, and it had never had a space all its own until I insisted it be given its own cabin. Sparkles deserved a second chance, life and freedom and healing. To grow up to be better.' A pause, and she glances up at the sky. 'In the end, Sparkles worked for our liberty as well as its own.' Tayrey's end being the launch and the days that followed.
no subject
So she bows her head in quiet respect, listening to Ari's recounting of what she knows of it, what it was like. And at the end, the words that fall from her are sincere.
"Wherever it has gone, may it know the same liberty and joys that we do. May it grow unfettered."
no subject
She nods. 'May it never be forgotten,' she says, Tradeline-fashion, as the warm lantern-light shines of them. Then she looks again to Fever. 'Now you speak for another of them,' she prompts quietly, suspecting that Fever might have been closer to a few of them than Tayrey herself was.
no subject
"Rita Mordio was imprisoned before I was, but that length of time did not quell the passion in her to fight against it. A brilliant mage and scientist who I was happy to speak with, a kind and generous friend. She helped me in the Village - gave up supplies from her home to help preserve my health, because that's the kind of person she was. She liked cats, and bold fashion, and her heart belonged to Natsuno. Without her work, it would have never breached the cage. May she not be forgotten."
If Rita is on some distant shore, Fever hopes it's with Natsuno, or Jade, or anyone else she was close to that isn't here. She shouldn't have to face the uncertain new future alone.
no subject
Tayrey holds that there, waiting for a moment, and then she goes on:
'Natsuno Yuuki was never afraid to risk his own welfare - even his own life for a good cause. I didn't know him well, but I know that he was a valued friend to those closest to him, and that he and Rita made each other stronger together. I have very few memories of our captivity that aren't painful, but one of the few that I cherish is sitting with Yuuki, watching Earther movies that he assured me were terrible, but that were entertaining all the same. He was loyal, and held to his convictions. He was there when we needed him. May he never be forgotten.'
no subject
"He was unwavering, standing up to our captor, and when I feared dying before being able to see everyone's liberation, he ensured there was a way that I would survive. I will always recognize that. May he never be forgotten."
She lets the same length of time pass, before speaking again.
"Arthur Lester was a man I was proud to name as my friend. Someone with convictions, who strove to be better, who did not quietly accept captivity. He was intelligent, brave - willing to stand up for his freedom. I remember, when we struck down our imprisonment in the Village, he fought at my back without hesitation. And he was kind to me, more so than I expected. It didn't ever feel amiss to seek him out to share company, to explain my world and hear about his in turn. We could talk about anything, it seemed. I found a great comfort in his presence, and he had my trust."
Fever remembers the look on his face when she had pressed the quarterstaff into his hands as a replacement for the cane of his he had lost in death, how touched he had seemed and how cheerfully she had talked about teaching him to potentially use it as a weapon as well. She remembers talking of gods, of the past - remembers noticing he avoided meat, and thereby only offering him snacks in the future without it.
Most acutely, she remembers falling asleep with him as something warm and furry in her arms. How it had been safe, even though he was vulnerable. For a little while, she had rested - and how he'd pulled her from her nightmares.
"May he never be forgotten."
no subject
She focuses her attention back on Arthur. 'He never let his blindness hold him back, and I admired him for it immensely. He had courage and he didn't waver, even under pressure. He'd been through so much and never lost sight of his values. I trusted his judgement. And he-' she smiles, '-he wasn't afraid to tell me when I made mistakes.' This is a compliment, from Tayrey, who dismisses criticism from people whose values she considers incompatible with hers.
'The first time I tried to escape I went alone and I hadn't prepared enough and I almost died of hypothermia. He was worried about me. I didn't think anyone cared enough about me to worry. When I got back, the usual people mocked and criticised me for trying to escape. He was different. Oh, he scolded me!' Another soft smile from Tayrey. 'But for the lack of preparation. For the stupid mistakes I made. And he and Crichton both promised me that if I came up with a real plan I wouldn't have to go alone. They'd be my team. Back me up.'
She pauses, keeping tight control of her emotions. 'Arthur Lester kept his promise. May he never be forgotten.'
Tayrey holds the silence for him, and then it's natural for her to turn to:
'Commander John Crichton. My dear friend and comrade, honorary Tradeliner, the man who stood by me despite all the battles he had to fight. He too valued freedom, and understood what it meant to miss home. I could talk to him... about anything. I felt safe with him. He was loyal, never gave up on me, not even when I couldn't see a single point of light in the sky. He worked tirelessly with me, all those days spent on wormhole equations. I remember the way he used to talk about these strange Earther things, I'd have to ask him to clarify all the time, but sometimes it made me smile when nothing else could. I remember a timeline where he fought beside me to keep my starship safe. I remember... the way we flew together. Took a helicopter from the Village. We knew it wouldn't do any good, but we loved flying.'
Tayrey pauses again, bites her lip, pushes down the grief. 'He asked me to follow this tradition of his people if I ever lost him.' With that, Tayrey straightens up, and glances at the sky before giving a well-executed American military salute. She holds her arm in place for a long moment, and when she lowers it, she says, firmly, 'May he never be forgotten.'
no subject
"Crichton was someone with courage so great I admired it. Someone with a heart large enough that it's a wonder it didn't burst from his chest. He stood by the people he cared for, and...persevered, even through bitterly difficult situations. I called him friend, and he allowed me room to be there for him when he needed. I remember laughing with him, and spending time trying out the arcade games - he was always better than me at the ones with firearms, for all his knowledge. And I must remember seeing you in the sky in the Village, flying together."
Despite the situation, she smiles. She hadn't known who flew what crafts, but she had watched them, guarding what little vitality she'd had in that place. One of them must have held her friends.
"May he never be forgotten."
One more.
"Lady Cassandra de Rolo was a rare person indeed. Looking at her, you would hardly believe the strength she possessed. She held her ground against me, even when I was being unreasonable, and challenged me to consider my thinking. I would have gladly fought at her side, and it was her I asked to direct me, when it came to protecting our own. She refused to give up on the idea of going home, even if the world was stacked against her, even if it cost her dearly - and I was proud to call her my ally. I only regret that I couldn't do more for her, in the end."
For a second, Fever bows her head.
"May she never be forgotten."