Chapter 16: Love, Old and New
Sonilla's black skirt billowed in the steady wind while she stood motionless. The coffin was before her, a graceful one made of polished cherrywood. Yes, the galaxy had been saved, and her hand had played a great part. But, before the living may continue to live, they must bury their dead.
A tear fell from her eye and was caught in the veil she wore. She made no move to stop her crying. Sonilla was the picture of the beautiful mourner daughter.
On Triya, the Torim's home planet, it was a funeral day. The sky was moody, and a constant wind swept the trees left and right. The sun, which had been so beautiful the day before, had given the weather over the clouds, who were better made to suit grief. The day was somber and melancholy, and all the people present were likewise.
Maelos was beside Sonilla, his broken left arm in a sling. He stood close to her, and when the minister began the final set of invocations, she let out a sigh and leaned against him. Maelos took her hand in his and held it close. He was there for her, for he knew the pain of losing a parent.
Samus was in a wheelchair on Maelos's other side, her torso bandaged and her face scarred. In the two days after the battle on the Valiancy, she had been living a life she was unaccustomed to living. She was dependent on others for her most basic needs, and she had been thrown into the mess of recreating the Federation. She felt so weak, and it bothered her to be babied so much. But, she would survive.
Stationed behind her was Geros. Immediately after his rescue, he had been fitted with two mechanical hands that were clothed in artificial skin. He had been so afraid that the loss of his hands would force him to choose another life style, but the new hands were more than accurate enough to let him continue to be a mechanic. In light of his rescue, Geros had become even more indebted and appreciative of Samus, and he had taken it upon himself to use his new hands to push her anywhere she wished.
Devajor had been in bad shape after his eyes had been gauged out by Medici's tormentors. Only Geros's reassurance and R-Saq's promise of sight had moved him to leave the interrogation room. After the battle had been won, he had met G-Ire, for she had survived the tunnel. There she had fitted him for an Echo Visor, and the former Ambassador for Aret became the first human, besides Samus, to be given an Echo Visor. Oh, how he had rejoiced in his regained sight.
But the sight of Torim's funeral was enough to humble the strongest heart, Samus being no exception. How could one honor such a martyr? What of all the others, such as D-Nav? They were honored in ways that the mortals cannot understand.
"...thus, we lay thee to rest, Joseph Torim, friend, father, Chairman, and martyr. May the beyond take you in, may the Lord keep thee, and may we, left here in sorrow, remember your life with joy. Amen."
A nod from the minister, and Sonilla stepped forward. She carefully took a white rose from the intricate bouquet on the casket. She placed a hand on the wood, feeling its coldness, and paused. This was her father. I love you. I miss you.
She stepped back into Maelos's arm, and all the other mourners also took a flower. Several quiet, respectful minutes passed and then the formal design was nothing but a green sponge. When that had been discarded, four gentlemen went to each corner of the coffin. They each started a crank, and the cherrywood slowly vanished into the earth. In the trees beyond the cemetery's gates, a dove cooed.
Soon, the hole was filled in, and nothing remained but a few fallen flower petals and the granite gravestone. Rose and white colored, the headstone read- 'There is no greater love than to lay down your life for a friend. He knew this, and the galaxy will forever be grateful to his sacrifice. Father, friend, husband, Chairman-rest in peace.'
Slowly, everyone went to their vehicles to go back to the reception and lunch. Sonilla remained where she was, arms wrapped around Maelos, her flooded eyes staring at her father's resting place. Samus looked over at them and silver caught her eye. It was Sonilla's ring, but it was different. The orphan wore it with the crown pointed out to the world.
More time passed, and the wind hushed. Sonilla sighed, the release of her despair, and motioned to leave. Maelos, still holding her, then led the way back.
Mr. Joseph Torim was gone, taken back to the earth from whence he came. And, once all the mourners had left, the sun deigned to peek out and shine on his grave.
