“Notification Letter”
Stardate 53086.8 (31 January 2376)
USS Bluefin
Captain Joseph Akinola sat in his darkened ready room, illuminated only by a small lamp and the soft glow of the computer screen. Through the viewport, distant stars glimmered like exotic jewels. For the moment, though, his vision was blurred by a mist of barely restrained tears. He blinked, wiping the sleeve of his tunic across his face before forcing his gaze back at the words he had just dictated to the computer.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. McBride,
It is with profound regret that I must report the death of your son, Dale. He was killed during a boarding operation on an Orion raider earlier this day. Dale and his team met with stiff resistance from the pirates, yet managed to liberate the ship and the prisoners on board who were facing certain slavery or worse. Your son’s bravery and sacrifice was instrumental in saving numerous lives, including several children. I am recommending him for the Navy Cross.
I know that nothing I can say will make this any easier for you. But I felt it was important that you know that Dale was not only respected as our Executive Officer, he was loved as a man of integrity, loyalty, honor and courage. Dale has many friends on the Bluefin, myself included. We all share in your grief.
Dale loved his job and he was good at it. You would be very proud of how he has conducted himself on this ship. He has been a leader in every sense of the word and an inspiration to his fellow beings. He will be sorely missed.
I feel both inadequate and saddened to bring you this news. You have lost a son. We have lost our friend and colleague. I do hope we all will be comforted by our memories of him and the legacy he leaves behind.
With sincere condolences,
Joseph B. Akinola, Captain, SFBS Cutter Bluefin
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was too tight. Taking the coffee mug from the desk, he took a swallow of the tepid liquid. He coughed, clearing his throat, then spoke in a raspy voice.
“Computer, transmit message and save copy to archives.”
Acknowledged. Message has been transmitted and saved.
He turned back to the viewport staring blankly at the starscape. After a time, he spoke again. “Computer, play jazz medley, set twenty two.”
The haunting melody from a saxophone filled the ready room, backed by a soft string bass and percussion background. Akinola allowed the music to fill his mind as his gaze drifted deeper into the dark void.
Stardate 53086.8 (31 January 2376)
USS Bluefin
Captain Joseph Akinola sat in his darkened ready room, illuminated only by a small lamp and the soft glow of the computer screen. Through the viewport, distant stars glimmered like exotic jewels. For the moment, though, his vision was blurred by a mist of barely restrained tears. He blinked, wiping the sleeve of his tunic across his face before forcing his gaze back at the words he had just dictated to the computer.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. McBride,
It is with profound regret that I must report the death of your son, Dale. He was killed during a boarding operation on an Orion raider earlier this day. Dale and his team met with stiff resistance from the pirates, yet managed to liberate the ship and the prisoners on board who were facing certain slavery or worse. Your son’s bravery and sacrifice was instrumental in saving numerous lives, including several children. I am recommending him for the Navy Cross.
I know that nothing I can say will make this any easier for you. But I felt it was important that you know that Dale was not only respected as our Executive Officer, he was loved as a man of integrity, loyalty, honor and courage. Dale has many friends on the Bluefin, myself included. We all share in your grief.
Dale loved his job and he was good at it. You would be very proud of how he has conducted himself on this ship. He has been a leader in every sense of the word and an inspiration to his fellow beings. He will be sorely missed.
I feel both inadequate and saddened to bring you this news. You have lost a son. We have lost our friend and colleague. I do hope we all will be comforted by our memories of him and the legacy he leaves behind.
With sincere condolences,
Joseph B. Akinola, Captain, SFBS Cutter Bluefin
He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was too tight. Taking the coffee mug from the desk, he took a swallow of the tepid liquid. He coughed, clearing his throat, then spoke in a raspy voice.
“Computer, transmit message and save copy to archives.”
Acknowledged. Message has been transmitted and saved.
He turned back to the viewport staring blankly at the starscape. After a time, he spoke again. “Computer, play jazz medley, set twenty two.”
The haunting melody from a saxophone filled the ready room, backed by a soft string bass and percussion background. Akinola allowed the music to fill his mind as his gaze drifted deeper into the dark void.