Bowler Memorial

 Episode Name:  Bowler Memorial

   Written By:  Shaft

         Cast:  Alarcon, Balin, Caeli, Claness, Dryden, Golden, Harris, Havaris, 

                Idrani, Laco, MacPherson, Medes, Miguel, O'Rielly, Park, Poole, 

                Shaft and Turtledove.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Shaft

     Aired On:  Wed Mar 19 23:04:48 2003

     Stardate:  53080.3

Time: Wed Mar 19 20:13:56 2003

Stardate: 53080

Alarcon comes into the garden through the hedge.

Alarcon has arrived.

Miguel comes into the garden through the hedge.

Miguel has arrived.

Laco glances over at Dryden.

Havaris mills in the back of the gardens, hands folded behind his back. He is dressed in the crisp lines of his dress uniform, his cluster of medals hanging prominently from his left breast. A small gathering has started to form in the general clearing of the gardens, just shy of a small raised platform where the body of Lt. JG Bowler lies in the sleek black Starfleet coffin, draped with the flag of the UFP. There is a podium, a microphone, and a general sobriety to events at present.

Alarcon enters the garden with her husband, her expression sombre, dress uniform predictably immaculate. A nod to all those present, her eyes glancing off each person to the flora here, to the ceiling, down to the shiny tops of her boots.

Balin comes into the garden through the hedge.

Balin has arrived.

Solemnly nervous. Can someone look solemnly nervous? If so, Medes accomplishes this. She's back in the corner of the garden, near to Havaris, tapping at a PADD and glancing up every so often.

Miguel comes in along side of his wife looking like he feels just a tad bit out of place. In the hand that isn't near Alarcon, he holds a mid-sized black case with all of the appropriate latches on it. His own eyes move about the gardens, taking in the various people in their uniforms before he leans in to his wife to say something quietly.

The appropriate latches to keep said little black case closed, that is.

Harris frowns slightly for a moment, then moves to stand apart from most of the group at large. He continues to remain silent, eyes locked on the coffin.

Alarcon nods to Miguel's whispered words, the shadow of a smile on her face. She takes his free hand in hers, squeezes it tightly for a moment or two, then lets go. After a moment, she drifts nearer the hedge, taking a place there, hands clasped loosely behind her back.

Dryden sits quietly in the back, not saying or doing anything. He briefly glances down at his timepiece before looking up again. He stares at the casket for a few moments then, for no apparent reason, he excuses himself as the crowd gathers and quietly slips away.

Dryden passes through the hedge into the mall.

Dryden has left.

Balin steps in through the hedge, straightening the jacket of his uniform as he does so. He glances around at those gathered for the occasion before making his way into the crowd, nodding in greeting where appropriate.

. o O Miguel seems to feel just a little bit out of place right now. That and a little bit of nervousness. His thoughts trail to the trumpet beneath his arm and to his wife whom he stands near. "Well, might as well let Medes know now."

Turtledove, markedly alone and likewise dressed in the formal white and black uniform, looks over from her solemn post next to the viewport. Seeing the crowd growing, perhaps, she quietly moves away from the viewport, toward the gathered group. She pulls up next to Harris with a small, sober smile and a nod.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Medes brushes a hand over Havaris's forearm and offers him a thankful sort of glance before starting off through the crowd. First stop: The Alarcons. She wends her way toward them, and steps up alongside the couple, offering Alarcon The Officer a brief tense and sympathetic glance before turning her attention to Alarcon The Bar Owner, namely, Miguel. "Thank you again," she offers quietly, and gestures over to the side of the podium opposite the coffin. "If you could set up over there... I'd appreciate it."

Laco remains hear the hedge, standing with his arms at his sides

Havaris offers Medes a sideways glance and a small smile before stepping forward in the direction of Commander Balin. Havaris assumes a parade rest easily enough -- he was already halfway there -- before speaking in quiet greeting. "Sir, if you would prefer, I have something of a speech prepared for the ceremony. I, of course, am willing to step aside in favor of our Commander. There was simply a lot of worry over who would offer words and nothing was decided..." He lets the rest of his sentence hang a bit.

. o O Havaris is oddly calm. Familiar events, familiar surroundings, no doubt familiar words prepared.

Harris inclines his head to Turtledove as she approaches, the right side of his mouth quirking up in friendly recognition before his face goes neutral again.

Alarcon the Officer remains quiet and in her position near the hedge, acknowledging Medes' sympathetic glance with a tight half-smile, returning her gaze to her boots, then looking up at something else, something neutral. Anything neutral.

Miguel looks through the crowd now, trying to pick out one specific Fleet officer...who just happens to be on his way over in his general direction. He offers the same wan smile to Medes that all people who aren't sure what else to do give in these situations. "I don't really need to set up. I only have this." He lifts the black case a little bit, "I just need you to let me know when you want me to perform." He leans in a little bit to speak quietly with the bald woman...who isn't his wife.

MacPherson comes into the garden through the hedge.

MacPherson has arrived.

Balin gives Medes the nod of her Commander's approval as she passes. He then turns his attention toward the coffin, and his expression hardens. He not only feels the loss of an officer under his command, he feels the crew's loss. His jaw works back and forth momentarily before looks out the large viewports.

Dryden comes into the garden through the hedge.

Dryden has arrived.

. o O Medes seems to be putting all of her energy into being nervous. It's easier than being sad, or angry, or upset in any way. The more she focuses on the details of organizing, the easier this seems to be for her.

Dryden quietly returns and seats himself in the back, still looking a little dazed.

Havaris stares after Balin as the Betazoid passes him by, staring awkwardly at his boots for a moment. He releases a sigh and musters himself back up again before turning to mount the platform and move to the Commander's side. "Sir," he tries again quietly, "I need to know if you will be speaking. The crew is waiting."

Balin whispers to Havaris, "I hadn't been asked to, but I was hoping to, Mr. Havaris."

. o O Turtledove feels peaceful, no sense of loss it seems. Most apparent are strong feelings of respect, possibly for the proceedings, possibly directed towards Bowler. Threads of another feeling are present: pride. Pride mingled with solidarity, and a general feeling of belonging... to something.

Havaris inclines his had to the Betazoid, motioning towards the podium. "It is ready and waiting, Sir." And with that, Havaris takes two steps in reverse and turns about to step from the platform again, returning to the general crowd.

Harris unclasps and refolds his hands behind his back, his gaze wandering back to the coffin at the front of the room.

Golden comes into the garden through the hedge.

Golden has arrived.

Offering the Commander a nod of acknowledgement and thanks for the same in return, she finishes up her conversation with the Alarcons. Well. One of them, anyway. Medes replies quietly to Miguel, "We'll give everyone a chance to get seated, and then we'll have you play to start things off. Thank you again for picking this up on such short notice." Offering the pair another nod, she steps away, turning to rejoin her husband.

. o O Harris thinks "Was it this way for me?"

. o O Alarcon is deeply sorrowful. She carries some survivor's guilt, as can be expected, and she is extremely uncomfortable being here, generally.

O'Rielly comes into the garden through the hedge.

O'Rielly has arrived.

Golden slips in quietly, a slightly guilty expression on his face, then he checks his uniform one more time before standing quietly at the back of the gathered personnel.

. o O Medes thinks "Okay. Requiem to start, address... that... should... handle everything. I think. There isn't much more to it, is there? Prophets, I hope not."

. o O Dryden thinks "His mind seems more than a little disoriented, as if being pulled in several directions by several different forces. He doesn't seem to quite be in control of himself, and his thoughts can best be described as a mix of confusion and some darker undertone. He is drawn to do something at a certain time, but he doesn't know what."

Poole comes into the garden through the hedge.

Poole has arrived.

The male Alarcon, being Miguel, nods softly to Medes before she moves back towards Havaris. Turning he offers his wife a smile and a quick kiss on the cheek before moving away again to set the case down. With a couple of quick clicks, he opens the case and removes a shiny, but obviously not new, trumpet and begins working his fingers over the valves without lifting it to his lips.

Turtledove catches Golden's eye and gives the RRT officer a greeting via nod and a slight, solemn quirk of her mouth.

O'Rielly steps into the observation garden and looks around at the various personel gathered. He then moves so as to stand next to Golden.

Alarcon smiles faintly at her husband's affections, but remains where she is, standing stiffly off to one side, near the hedge, watching him prepare to perform.

Golden returns O'Rielly's nod, and passes one towards Poole as she joins the trend of late red-shirts to this function.

Poole enters in her dress whites, with one important difference from most times one sees her in them: a silver cross hung from thin chain on her neck. She is dressed sharply and enters sharply and directly, scanning the occupants of the garden... the participants in the memorial service of Bowler.

Havaris waits beside Medes, finally unlacing the hands from his back to claim one of Medes' hands. He looks aside at her, thinks the better of their arrangement, and switches which hand holds hers in order to slip an arm about her waist and tuck her up against him.

Idrani comes into the garden through the hedge.

Idrani has arrived.

Idrani slips quietly inside, a little tardy perhaps, but she's been awful busy lately.

Shock and scandal. But it works. Medes leans her head on Havaris's shoulder -- the height difference is absolutely perfect for such -- and is tucked up next to him, waiting patiently and shifting her gaze between Miguel and Balin.

Golden nods as Idrani becomes red-shirt number four to join the came in late parade, then pays attention to the proceding on the other side of the crowded garden.

Comfortable that he is as prepared as he is going to get for this, Miguel turns his attention away from the trumpet and back to the room in general. While he waits, he sidles up closer to Alarcon and nudges her with an elbow before leaning in and giving her another kiss. The trumpet is held behind his back in his hands, safely tucked away until needed.

O'Rielly glances to Idrani briefly, before turning his attention back towards where Balin is.

Caeli comes into the garden through the hedge.

Caeli has arrived.

Claness comes into the garden through the hedge.

Claness has arrived.

Poole moves on up to Balin, strangely calm and reserved. The cross glitters on it's chain, just as she moves a hand from behind her back revealing a Bible, well-worn and with plenty of bookmarks.

Claness arrives, quietly moving over to stand near Idrani.

Caeli slips in through the hedge, still adjusting his dress whites and hoping no-one will notice his lateness. He takes up position near the rest of the Security officers, hands clasped behind his back in respect and deference.

Balin makes his way up toward the podium, and clears his throat. He doesn't stand behind the podium, instead, he takes a position beside it, and moves into a parade rest. "These are the hardest times," Balin begins in soothing tones. "Tonight we say goodbye to Rodney Bowler, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Doctor. He was a friend. A loved one. A healer. A son. A Starfleet Officer. He was many things. Assuming this uniform assumes certain risks, and Doctor Bowler faced those risks with determination, courage, and grim resolution to duty." He moves away from the podium and to the casket, behind from which he produces a velvet black box. "Doctor Bowler personally saved the lives of three people. One of them was a child, who will see a future thanks to Dr. Bowler's effort and the effort of his team." He opens the case, revealing a medal. A white cross, with a gold border, surrounds the Starfleet logo. It has a red with a pale red ribbon. He holds it up for those assembled to see it. "It is with great honor that I bestow this posthumous Order of Hippocrates decoration upon Dr. Rodney Bowler, who selflessly put the needs of others before himself, and heroically gave his life for otherwise doomed souls." He places the medal on the coffin and lets that sink in for a moment, before moving off toward Medes, and gives her a nod.

. o O Poole is cool and reserved. Strangely under control.

Idrani moves a little closer to Claness as he approaches.

Alarcon gave Miguel a kiss on the cheek before Balin began his eulogy. She listens, quietly, holding her husband's free hand, as the Commander speaks. At the end, she smiles faintly down at her boots again, nodding slightly.

Harris casts his gaze at the deck, a somber silence still upon him.

. o O Medes has nothing with which to distract herself, and thus? Becomes weary, the solemnity and grief which comes with a funeral taking over from her previous manic status with slow determination.

Medes listens to the Commander's eulogy with her head resting on Havaris's shoulder, looking out the viewport to the left of Balin's head, her eyes vaguely unfocused on some point in the distance. Once the address is finished, she glances back up, nodding once more to the aforementioned Commander; she looses her hand from her husband's and lets him step away from her.

Turtledove greets Caeli with a quiet nod. Her typical expression is much subdued, considering the solemnity of the situation. She otherwise stands quietly, her attention directed towards the casket.

. o O Miguel is still more than just a little bit nervous about his upcoming part. It is only heightened, for some reason, by the speech and award given by the station commander. Then he kicks himself, "You've done tougher performances than this before..." Only to be followed by the little nagging voice, "But not like this one.."

Havaris offers Medes a squeeze before stepping forward to mount the platform, pacing up to the podium to settle his hands on either lip of its sides, resting a bit of his weight on his arms. He stares at the surface of the podium for a moment before lifting his head to address the crowd. "Good evening. We are gathered here this evening to honor the sacrifice of one of our fellow officers, Lieutenant Junior Grade, Doctor Rodney Bowler. We hardly had the chance to know the Lieutenant. He came aboard, as we all came aboard. He served as many of those gathered here now serve. He drank beside us as another new face. He walked past us, another officer in the crowd. And when he died, he died as he had lived among us. Quiet in his service. Passed by those who went in rescue of the SS Acropolis. He was there, they turned around, and he was gone." Havaris pauses here, gathering his breath for continued words. "I did not know the man we are gathered here to honor. But I have come to know his story as told by his record of service. Something in me knew that a man who would walk gallantly and selflessly to his final rest must have served with equally quiet distinction. Something in me knew that this was a man I would regret very deeply having never gotten to know. I was not disappointed. What follows is a story regarding the career of service so greatly rendered by this Officer of our Command. And it is the only story that I have for you."

. o O Dryden feels *The only feelings in his mind are confusion and weariness. Confusion at everything around him, and a weariness that seems to pervade his entire being.*

Claness listens in silence, his arms folded neatly at the small of his back, a thoughtful expression in place.

Harris' eyes slowly return to the coffin, his face completely blank.

Medes stands quietly where she was before, half-watching Havaris as he speaks, largely still staring out the viewport behind him. Her hands come to fold in front of herself, and her opposite hand idly fiddles with her wedding ring.

Poole pauses where she is and listens, a quietly contemplative look on her face. She listens though, even if her eyes aren't focussed on any one thing.

Alarcon likewise listens from her post by the hedge, hand still in Miguel's, expression grave and solemn.

Miguel gives Alarcon's hand a squeeze while keeping the trumpet behind his back for now. Stone-faced himself, he watches Havaris almost the entire time he speaks with his eyes only occasionally going to the coffin and his wife.

Caeli's eyes flutter beneath the pale blue of his eyelids, his face peacful and serene as he lets the words drift past his ears.

Idrani listens quietly, her expression subdued.

"In July of 2374, I was stationed aboard the USS Antietam, still a Lieutenant Junior Grade, only recently promoted to the role of Assistant Chief of Security. At that time, Bowler was stationed aboard the USS Astute of the 34th Tactical Wing. She, like our Aegis, was an Akira Class and one of the more distinguished craft in the 34th Tactical. In a story repeated and refrained on countless worlds from Occa, to Betazed, to Cardassia... the Astute had been assigned to the reclaiming of Wladial, a small colony world which had fallen to the Dominion and was, at that time, occupied by the armies of the Cardassian Union, then loyal to the Dominion and the Founders. The combat was merciless and terrible, fought foxhole to foxhole, tree to tree, ridge to ridge, street to street, home to home. Many of you know the bloodshed and horror wrought by such combat. Few, if any of you, know what it is to treat the victims of such attrocity. Had you been there during those days you would have found this Officer wading through a sea of amputations, screaming wounded, dying Officers. Understaffed, underequipped, and ultimately overwhelmed. But he never -- not ever -- flagged. And when a cease fire was struck with the last of the Cardassian hold outs, forced inch by inch into an ever closing circle, Bowler chanced to speak with a Cardassian contemporary. A doctor of the forces they opposed. That doctor asked for medical supplies to treat his own wounded and dying. He did not ask for weapons, he did not ask for escape, he asked only for the medicines and supplies necessary to keep his people from succumbing to the -- until then -- merciless advance of the allied counter-offensive. His Captain refused. And Rodney Bowler disregarded that order, offering what mercies one soldier can offer another amid the horror of an ultimately fruitless conflict. Yes. He was disciplined. And, yes. He defied his commanding officer -- and all of this to ease suffering and heal the sick. The medal we saw awarded to this Officer was not one of valor, not one of conspicuous heroics, not one of absolute adherence to the word of his Captain. It was for selfless, thoughtless, mercy. A mercy so total that he risked -- and gave -- his life to render, as he at one point risked his career." Havaris straightens slowly before noting, "My Major on Bajor told me that he knew no heroes among the living. And one should never seek to be a hero, that the Prophets saw to that. Gentlemen, I give you Lieutenant Junior Grade, Doctor Rodney Bowler. Officer and Hero."

Alarcon blinks down at her boots, up at the foliage next to her, at her husband's sleeve, at the floor. She says nothing, and allows her shorn head to hang.

O'Rielly continues to watch Havaris delivering the eulogy, but he remains rigid where he stands.

Balin solemnly nods his head several times at Havaris' speech. But like Alarcon, he too is silent at this. His attention never wavers from Havaris, or the coffin.

Medes slowly and subtly (though, for once, more subtly than the average brick) nods her head as Havaris speaks, still fiddling with her wedding ring. Twist. Twist. Twist. Once her husband finishes, she glances aside at Miguel, and nods her head indicatively.

Dryden stands silently behind the crowd. He regards Havaris with a blank expression. Again, he quietly slips away.

Dryden passes through the hedge into the mall.

Dryden has left.

"I request that all hands come to attention," and Havaris has to with a Commander and a Second Officer in the room, "for the following piece by Miguel Alarcon." And with that, Havaris steps back from the podium and falls to attention himself.

Another squeeze of the hand is given to the science officer by her husband, though his own attention now remains on Havaris and the podium. As the Bajoran officer finishes his eulogy, Miguel starts to wet his lips idly and is chewing on them slightly when he catches a glance of Medes' nod. He stalls for a moment to gently extract one hand from his wife and bring the other one, the one with the trumpet around to the front of him. Then, with a deep intake of breath he steps towards the podium himself.

Harris snaps to attention, chin level, eyes locked straight ahead.

Laco brings his heels together, and drops his arms to his sides, curling the fingers slightly.

Caeli snaps his eyes open and lets his hands fall to his sides, lifting his chin and focusing his gaze on the starfield.

Turtledove, likewise, snaps to attention. Her eyes remain fixed on the casket.

O'Rielly comes to attention, though he doesn't really need to change himself much to do so.

Alarcon straightens and comes to attention with the others. She focuses upon her husband.

Poole comes to attention as well, book going behind her back as she clasps her hand there. She looks towards the casket, expression still neutral.

Medes quits fiddling with her wedding ring and snaps to attention, though, unlike Turtledove, her eyes don't go anywhere near the casket. They stare out into space, still.

Claness comes to attention, his scabbard slapping against his thigh.

Idrani also comes to attention, eyes somber.

Balin comes to attention himself. His eyes join Medes', and he looks out into the black void of space.

Golden comes to attention imemdiately, a focused serious expression on his face.

Park comes into the garden through the hedge.

Park has arrived.

Miguel moves to stand behind the podium, fingers absently fiddling with the valves on his instrument. He opens his mouth as if he is about to speak, but decides against it with a soft shake of his head. Instead he takes a step around the podium so that he is standing next to it for his piece. The trumpet is brought around in front of him, held at attention for when its own commander calls it to duty. With a last intake of breath, one that is held for a few moments, he raises the instrument to his lips and issues his first command. It all starts with a simple, solitary loan note that stretches far longer than it should before shifting into a slow succession of higher notes. Following orders, the instrument then begins to issue forth a stark, softly played melody, slow and deep, pulling the instrument down to the lowest tones that it can achieve before starting to bring them back up again. It is easy to hear the tune once he has it going, obviously from one of the requiem masses of the late 18th or early 19th century. The Requiem Aeternum portion. The beginning. With his eyes closed and his body swaying slightly, Miguel moves through the piece mournfully and flawlessly, barely seeming to take a breath to finish it off. As the tune comes to an end, he moves the trumpet away from his mouth, but doesn't drop it. His eyes remain closed for a moment longer and offers the words, "Lux aeterna luceat eis." before he lowers the trumpet and steps away from the podium. With his head down, he walks quietly back towards his wife.

Universal Translators will translate the phrase to: Let Eternal Light Shine On Them.

Alarcon remains at attention, swallowing thickly, eyes bright and wet. She does not stir from attention, gaze simply following her husband back toward her, standing still and straight with as much presence as she can muster.

Harris swallows as the notes fade into silence.

Poole refuses to cry, though her eyes are wet. Her hands slip to her sides and she bows her head, lifting it after a few moments.

Caeli is a musical person. As such, he cannot help but follow the tune a perfect fourth up in the back of his throat, humming ever so softly along with the floating melody. The few Security types around him would hear the chilling harmony faintly, but none else. A tear breaks, rolling along the curve of Zipok's nose and down the corner of his lip, to come to rest on the otherwise-unspoiled white of his dress uniform.

Medes continues watching space, what with all the stars and the distracting blackness, all through the piece. Once it winds down to its inevitable conclusion, she clears her throat, and turns her head slightly. Poole. There she is. Giving the Second Officer a brief nod, she returns to forward-facing attention thereafter.

Balin nods appreciatively toward Miguel when the song is complete. He is clearly moved by the piece, but remains dry eyed. He offers a solemn smile of gratitude to the man.

Idrani stands quietly beside Claness, her expression somber and subdued.

Turtledove's facial expression remains as it was, mellow, her eyes quietly fixed on the casket.

. o O Alarcon feels a great swell of pride for her husband and his talent, but it is still tempered by her grief and guilt.

. o O Miguel is relieved. Relieved that the piece is done. Relieved that he didn't mess it up. So many audiences, so many performances didn't make this one any easier.

Havaris stands impassively throughout the piece, eyes focussed on some middle-distant point in the air above the heads of the crowd. When the piece reaches its conclusion -- and given the attention stance of all officers -- Havaris allows a prolonged and somber silence before tapping his compin. "Havaris to Operations. Battery fire." "Battery, aye." He taps his compin again as three streaks of light lance out into the darkness behind the massive observation view port. First one. Then another. Then the last, all of them bright red and silent in the void. When the last glow of the light fades away, Havaris calls across the room, "At ease! General assembly, and dismissed!" And with that, Havaris lowers his head, falls out of attention, and moves to pace off the platform.

Alarcon is one of the first to leave. With a look at her husband, she drops from attention, turns on her heel and departs without comment.

Alarcon passes through the hedge into the mall.

Alarcon has left.

Miguel doesn't notice any of the gathering's appreciations or reactions. With his trumpet in his hand and his head hung low, he makes his way back to his wife's side. He doesn't even lift his head to look at the battery fire. The red light it produces in his periphery is enough for him. Once the at ease call is given he releases a breath that he carried with him off of the platform and turns to quietly put his trumpet away.

Caeli watches the red spears of light arc out into the void, and turns on one heel to head back to his posting.

Caeli passes through the hedge into the mall.

Caeli has left.

O'Rielly just waits, lets some of the other officers file out first.

Harris slowly relaxes, still remaining silent as he gives a final nod to the coffin and begins to turn away.

Golden releases his position of attention, and the professional mask that goes with it. A strained or pained tension hovers around his eyes and then nods, perhaps to himself as the Anomaly passes from view. That beautiful enigma to many, that hungry monster to him, eating the fired shots, eating another life drawn here by it's mysterious allure. He worries his lower lip for a moment, then nods crisply towards O'Rielly -- his expression again cool and confident if restrained.

Medes watches the battery fire out into space as she'd been watching space through most of the memorial. Once the order for dismissal is given, she looks down at her toes for a moment, nods, and untucks a PADD from beneath her arm, the same one she'd been tapping at when people began filing in. A few more taps at the same and she locks the screen, moving to intercept Havaris.

Balin comes to at ease. He moves toward the casket and removes the medal from its case. drapes the medal over the top of it. He lays his hand upon flag that is draped over the casket, and closes his eyes. After about ten seconds of this, he drops his hand to his side and moves for the exit.

Poole approaches the platform, passing by some of the officer's filing out. She closes on the casket, slowing as she approaches... waiting for Balin to stand and move away.