RPlog:Funeral for a Ghost

It was time to accept the fact that one of their own was gone from their ranks. Sitting up on a risen podium of sorts is a smooth, black ... coffin, closed for all intensive purposes. A few ornaments, such as holovid pictures and a pilot's helmet rest on top of the coffin. - oh, and we can't forget the New Republic flag draped over the casket. Inside, the contents are simply that of a pilot's flight suit, bearing the Ghost Squadron patch and an assignment number - a red number 4, on the arm. The pictures in question are various... candid pictures of the fallen Ghost, taken by friends, pilots and the like. A couple feature the squadron commander and her, arm-in-arm, while the rest are just silly shots from Pilot Country.

Her casket is flanked by an honor guard. Two NCOs from the Marine detachment were let off for funeral detail, while there were also two.. StarOps NCOs bearing arms, protecting the crate. One must assume that one of these is her fighter's crew chief, and the other her technician. There are also four more officers from the Starfighter Corps present, standing off to the side in a single file line. Their patches seem to indicate that their various allegiances fall to Krakana and Ghost squadron.. apparently, the third flight crew was going to be there for it.

Standing off to the side and waiting for the funeral proper to get going, and just... in general, looking depressed as all Hell because it's -he- who has to do this now, Major Johmac Mabru chews on the inside of his jaw. He checks a chronometer on his watch.. the quicker this went, the sooner he could start forgetting. There were chairs marked off for the various squadron officers and NCOs not in the ceremony, and as well as Navymen and Marines..

General Luke Skywalker is standing at the very back end of the hangar bay. It's one of the worst seats in the house. Whether he was invited to be a part of the ceremony or not is unclear, for in a moment of sheer rebellion to the chain of command, he has chosen to ignore any requests and stand at the back; one of the worst seats in the house. He wears his Jedi attire, the cloak drawn over his arms and chest to add a voluminous darkness to his visage. Arms crossed over each other, he looks upon the coffin with a detached sort of confusion in his eyes, and his jaw is clenched.

Standing with the rest of Falcon Squadron - everyone not on duty is present - Aramis looks uncharacteristically grim and unhappy with things. His shoulders tight, he stares at the empty coffin. The lid is closed but no one here has the illusion that there's a body in there, or anything of Kyrin Sh'vani. That, if nothing else, is perturbing. If he could, Aramis would turn and cast a flat, questioning glance behind him but it's eyes-front for the moment, and his questions and thoughts remain his own, behind his tense expression.

Lianna is at her designated seat, waiting for the ceremony to start. She might not have known the pilot well - barely spoken more than a few words with her, really, but she had spend more than a few hours looking the wreckage that was her fighter over for any sign, and proof. It is bound to leave a bitter after-taste, especially since the date for the ceremony came rather swift and she was not able to speak to Mitali or Skywalker one final time, and so a faint frown remains on her features, of nagging doubt in the back of head: Did she make the proper statement, the right estimation?

It was time. "Detail, atten-HUT!" The senior-most Marine near the casket sounds off, and the whole lot that are standing click their heels together. Heaving a heavy sigh, Johmac steps forward, in front of the casket. "Thank you all for coming," he remarks, allowing his voice to boom over the rest of the din. Eyes dart to the back for a moment. He could see the Jedi back there. He wasn't invited, but he wouldn't have been rejected, either. Tearing his eyes away, they scan over the crowd that seems to have assembled... Navymen, Marines, pilots alike. It shouldn't take something like this to bring them together.

"We gather here this day to conduct the soul of Second Lieutenant Kyrin Sh'vani to the beyond. Many of us knew her as a pilot, comrade, and friend, and many of us admired her remarkable flying ability." Johmac pauses, allowing his words to sink in. He himself is seemingly starting to fight those tears. "I knew Kyrin on a personal level - or, I'd like .. I'd like to think I did.. Kyrin was a remarkable pilot, and a remarkable person. She had a character that was unlike any other person I have ever encountered in my time, serving with the New Republic. She did many great things with her time in this realm. I, for one, believe.. that, she wouldn't want us to mourn for a longer period than we already have... I believe she would want us to be happy for her. I say this with the utmost confidence.. Kyrin wouldn't have wanted to go any other way, because any other way just wouldn't have had the same dignity." He stops for moment, considering what else he should say.. When words fail him, he calls out, sort of strangled. "Would any one else care to give parting words to the fallen?" he asks, looking out toward the crowd.

Listening to the offered words of the Squadron Commander, Lianna finder herself clenching her jaw slightly. The fact that she had been mulling in her head the countless what-ifs of what might happened out there to the pilot leave her without the comfort of imagining dignity in her death. From burning plasma to shrapnel, from failing life support to ripped suit, from failing beacon and freezing in space to the painful demise as an Imperial POW, she went over them again and again. And with her lack of personal attachment, no time to prepare anything, and those thoughts in her head, Lianna plays it wise and does not stand up to find words for the fallen.

Aramis doesn't have anything to say about Kyrin, except that he hates being here when he saw her ship and droid and couldn't be sure of the results. He glances over at Lianna to see her expression, and then looks back at the coffin. Burying a body would be one thing, or even having certainty, but the empty coffin leaves him cold.

The silence lingers for almost too long, and eventually, Luke can't stand it any longer. He throws his arms to his sides, and starts walking up an aisleway between the chairs with a determined expression. He stops before Johmac and gives the Major a silent look, a questioning look. He isn't one to flex rank, and won't undermine the one who is leading the proceedings.

"Thank you." Johmac takes a breath, and sets his face, giving the Jedi a silent nod before stepping aside, turning to attentively listen. The Honor Guard continues to stand at the ready...

Lianna gives Aramis a return look as she notices the glance. Blue eyes do lick with his for a moment, her expression changing slightly at the look she gets, before she peers ahead again. She knows too well that the pilot has argued the certainty of Kyrin's death and she in turn had argued the small chance of it. It seems her arguments won. Not that it makes her feel any better.

Luke bows his head in a manner of respect to Johmac, then takes a few steps to the center of the stage, standing just next to the empty coffin. "Ladies and gentlemen." His voice carries to fill the room, aided in subtle ways by the Force. "I have flown with more pilots in my years than I can remember, and I've only been in combat scenarios with Kyrin Sh'vani twice. Our first mission together is classified, and our second was the preliminary escort in Operation Shado Kolpo." He looks over the crowd, a hardened glaze over his eyes. "I can tell you all with certainty that the New Republic owes her a debt of gratitude."

He pauses only for a moment, until a resolved look comes over his face. "Those of you who have not been granted access to the official reports will know that Kyrin has been /presumed/ as killed in action, but there is speculation that she may have survived the fight. Even so, it would take a twist of fate, the work of the Force, to have spared her life. The life support systems on her flight suit would have had to stay functional amidst the dangers of an exploding starfighter. She would have had to be picked up by rogue freighters or an Imperial task force, and I don't need to tell you all the dangers and terrors that linger with the second option."

Luke pauses, his words growing less voluminous, and through the Force, he wills a hush over the crowd where murmurings have begun. "I tell you these things because the New Republic stands on a foundation of brotherhood. Trust. Unity, and hope. Remember Kyrin today, then go back to your duties. Obey your orders to the best of your ability, and hold on to that slim hope that our dear friend and comrade may one day return to us, against all odds."

Asli steps through the airlock and instantly she registers that something isn't right. There's that feeling the air - sorrow and contemplation. The Sarian can smell it, can taste it. The airlock clangs shut and Asli jumps then looks abashed for disrupting the gathering. She moves to a pile of crates and leans against them keeping well clear of the remembrance.

Aramis listens intently to the General and the muscle in his jaw jumps as the man speaks at first. But his expression softens a little toward the end and he doesn't seem quite so tense at the end of Luke's speech. His attention goes back to the casket and he shakes his head a little. Then it's eyes-front again.

The clank of the airlock causes Lianna to turn briefly - anything for a distraction - peering at Asli as she is caught there before scurrying off towards the stack of crates. Taking a deeper breath, she turns back to listen to the fading words of Luke and she nods quietly. Hope she may return? There is little, but Lianna can understand the notion behind it.

Clank. Eyes dart toward the disturbance, and Johmac frowns, but only slightly. He says nothing concerning it, but turns his attention toward Luke, giving a light nod. "Thank you, Master Jedi," he remarks softly, taking a breath. "Is there anyone else?" he asks. Looks like a full military funeral going on here.. The hangar is packed with Fleet, Marine, and SF Corps personnel... A casket's near the front of the hangar, adorned with a flag, a couple of personal affects, and its own honor guard.

Luke only spares a momentary glance of his eyes toward the loud clanking sound. He turns and nods his head to Johmac, and then summarily strides away from the front and starts on back toward his hiding place along the back wall. Eyes watch him, but his are forward, ignoring any of the looks that anyone may send his way. Once he's near the back, that same confused, glazed over look comes to him. If she truly is dead... he said something. She deserved it. But the Force has not closed the door.

Asli rubs her mouth and jaw. A funeral. The sole representative of the CDU steadily avoid all the glances that come her way and folds her arms loosely across her chest as she silently watches the gathering.

Bowing her head a little, Lianna peers at the floor in front of her for a few moments, before she shakes her head at the situation, at herself and the way things are turning out. Which leave her once more with the distinctive feeling that she has to talk to the Jedi that strides back to his place in the back, soon. And she is not liking the idea of that any better than the whole affair.

Lianna's head-shake catches Aramis' eye and takes him out of his reverie a little. He remembers that he heard something before, when he was buried in his own thoughts. He casts a look over his shoulder and is a little surprised to catch sight of Asli. Then he pulls his attention back to the funeral.

When nobody answers the call, Johmac nods slightly. "Then.. let us conduct this brave pilot's soul properly." He takes a breath, and then turns to nod at the senior-most NCO of the Honor Guard. Returning the nod, the weathered Marine clears his throat.

"Detail, present arms!" At once, the two StarOps NCOs and the two Marine NCOs beside the casket snap to once again, and the A280 Blaster Rifles they hold are brought downward, over their chests. Their right hands come up over the barrels of the rifle, which, consequentially, is over their hearts. The other part of the guard, the Krakana/Ghost mix, moves forward, and they begin to remove the small articles on top of the flag and the casket. Once done, they line up on either side of the casket, and proceed with a proper folding of the Republic flag. Once complete, they move forward toward the crowd.. someone sitting in the front row. Apparently, there was going to be someone to receive the flag, to take to the Sh'vani family. "On behalf of a grateful Republic, I present this flag to you, to present to the Sh'vani family. Please see this token to them safely," the pilot states. The man receiving the flag nods slightly, and then..

It could be completely unexpected, but it looks like Johmac's looking for it. Out of nowhere, there's a roar of starfighter engines. No music. Four X-Wings are flying past the Reprisal... Ghost Squadron colors flying. Quite suddenly, the number four slot of the diamond formation splits off from the rest of the fly-by, banking hard away from the rest of the formation. This... was intentional, and symbolic..

Asli stands up straight for this part and folds her hands in the small of her back. The Sarian stranger bows her head for several heartbeats in respect for the departed pilot then lifts her gaze to watch the X-Wings float past the ship. Her shoulders raise and fall as she takes a deep breath and lets it out silently.

Straightening herself for the last part of the ceremony, Lianna watches the proceeding until the four X-wings flit by in their formation, only to watch the fourth break away. Taking a deeper breath, Lianna nods to herself.