SHORT STORY

The man I didn't know

By: William Jackson

Sasha was therapeutic, handsome, and kind. He was the sort of man that encouraged everyone around him to feel empowered simply by being themselves; and in a time when lives were taken daily, he was a man who made sure those around them were comfortable just where they were, lost.
"He will be missed, his life was an example of how to truly care for others, he was a dear and devoted father, husband, and son." These are all things I have heard since eleven this morning, and I knew nothing of the man.

The holding bay was its usual deep blue. The small track that split its difference showed is silver glow illuminated by the spots of light that followed its path towards the holding bay doors. The doors which began sliding open, followed by the greenish hue of the force shield just beyond; a reminder to us all just how close death is at all times.

About a quarter of an hour into the ceremony the murmur of the crowd began quieting, and an elderly man stood from his front row seat and paced slowly towards the deep blue podium that was bolted to the beginning of the glowing track between the divided patrons of this grievous gathering.

“I have only a few things to say about my son.” he began. “The first being how proud I am to have called him my son.” a woman's sobs could be heard a few seats behind to my left and I saw the man reach to his breast pocket, pulling something small and pretty from it.

“His actions have awarded us this medal I hold here,” he rose a small emblem, an eagle gripping a triangular shield, purple, yellow, and red, “the purple stands for bravery,” his voice shook, held, then steadied, “the yellow for intelligence in action,” he glanced the crowd, “and the red...the red stands for sacrifice...something we all know too much about. I thank you all for showing your support, this body we send into space is just one more reason for us all to remember our duty, to show our passion, and to fight on so that one day there will be peace...and relief.” A teared eye blinked causing a flash from light catching the single tear the father had shared.

The crowed began stirring as the father moved back to his seat where he shook hands with those surrounding he and his wife, her tears visible behind the shaded vale she wore atop her deep purple dress, the colors of the colony pinned to her breast. As the father sat down I noticed the next speaker stand and exit her row from behind me. It was the same woman whose sobs had disturbed me earlier, I tensed as I thought of what she could say, or who she was in relationship to the dead man from my division. She wore the typical gray top coat of an officer, but upon closer look I noticed the yellow leaf pinned to her breast among her other numerous decorations; she was an admiral.

I felt strange sitting there with no feelings at all for the man whom I was to be grieving over. He was one of the best of the best of the best, and as far away from me in friendship or brotherhood as anyone could be. I was a mechanic, a man of metal and sweat, not of thinking and bravery and honor. If it was broke and your could get your hands on it then I was your guy. If you needed a shoulder, or a hand, or a kind word; good luck. The woman began talking.

“Sasha meant a great deal to this unit, to all of us.” she beamed as others around me smiled and gripped friends hands. I still felt nothing.

“He showed us how a single man could unite a people and solve problems even in the darkest reaches of war and emotional poverty.” I tensed again, trying to feel.

“I can remember when he was a child and I was serving with his father, Commander Drianan, and we would sit and observe as comets and other celestial matter wizzed by.” I could analyze her face, but not connect. She continued.

“Shasha loved the stars, he even had a joke as a child...” her notes shook in her hands, “How many stars can you fit in a light bulb?” the crowd was silent, and she pointed out into the space between the two open airlock doors in front of her, “that many, you just need a really big lightbulb.”

I smiled, and so did the rest of the crowd. The smiles were genuine and I knew for sure that everyone felt that much better about what was happening.

“With that fine thought I ask you all to stand as we commit this soul to the great space, may it allow us further passage into its depths so that we may find the truth our ancestors set out for so very long ago.” And with that the silver pod with its dark screen began slowly down the track towards the doors and their reminder of what lay beyond. And then it hit me, this young man was that star he had jollied at as a child, he had spared his life for the opportunity for two worlds to maintain peace, much more than I would ever do. It was for that reason that an Admiral of our fleet could come to tears in such a way, and it was that reason that our entire squad had been called to honor this man. It makes me think just how wide our universe is, and just how important it is to be a part of this fleet and the humans who populate it. And with that I felt something small, maybe not for the man in the pod before me, but for the job that he did, and the job that I do, and the connection we all share therefore.