Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant by H. Peter Alesso Page A

burials followed rituals from ancient burials at sea—which had been a practice for centuries, with the body of the dead sewn in a shroud. For in-space disposition, each body was suited in a pressure suit, covered with the UP ensign, and placed in a capsule.
    The ship’s general intercom heralded, “All hands prepare to honor the dead.”
    Neumann presided as acting captain over the solemn ceremony. All able-bodied crewmen assembled mid-ship at the hanger deck and saluted while the anthem played. Only the officer of the watch and the bare minimum watch standers remained at their stations.
    Rows of flag-covered bodies lined the entire length of the corridor. Every hat was off; every head was bowed; they listened to the words of their new commanding officer as he spoke the funeral service. Then individuals came forward and spoke their peace, offered religious passages, or military readings, all seeking closure.
    Gallant stood at attention with his shipmates. His eyes lingered over the flag-draped body of William Craig.
    Chief Howard stood next to him and said quietly, “He was a fine young man.” Then turning away, he added, “Sometimes the loss is more than I can bear.”
    Gallant nodded.
    Yes.
    The bodies were draped with the UP flag and their cap and insignia were displayed. The seventy-seven bodies were arranged to be individually carried to the discharge port and placed in a capsule for launch.
    Upon completion of taps, the honor guard saluted. The chief master-at-arms presented the UP ensign to the commanding officer.
    “We commit their bodies to the vacuum of space, to journey forever more. May they find a peace in death they didn’t in life,” said Neumann.
    One by one, the bodies were ejected into space.
    Gallant brought his hand to his eye to salute each fallen shipmate. He couldn’t find any better way to show his admiration. However, when the captain was released, somehow it felt too final, too conclusive to drop the salute. He waited for a long minute until he steeled himself, then as sharply as he brought up his hand, he snapped it down.
    The ceremony finally over, men from all over the ship, got on with the job of saving the Intrepid.
***
    “Mr. Gallant, it’s good to see you returning to duty,” said Chief Howard standing behind the port reactor compartment shield wall. “I’ve been supervising the ship’s recovery and repairs while waiting for you to return from stasis.”
    “Thanks, Chief. I’ve been straining at the bit to get back to engineering. Doc Mendel was hard to convince, but I’m ready to return to work. He had me jumping through hoops and I mean it literally. He has me on a part-time schedule for the time being,” said Gallant.
    Howard nodded his approval.
    For several minutes Howard walked beside Gallant sporting a frown, as they went through the engineering spaces looking over the compartment’s damage.
    They looked around, but couldn’t find any of the familiar military spit and polish present a few days earlier. Everywhere around them was destruction and debris.
    The Intrepid was still alive with bustling activities, however. Atmosphere venting from metal ducts provided fresh air while a multitude of machines produced a steady drone, as the air conditioners fought the heat buildup. Men were working and discussing their problems. Progress was slow, but steady.
    “I guess I should get started by reviewing our operational status,” said Gallant with a questioning inflection.
    Howard shook his head, “Operational? Not much. We’re working around the clock to restore what we can, but … honestly… the ship is a mess. The men—those fit for duty—are exhausted. The XO has been driving everyone hard. I …, I mean Captain Neumann,” said Howard referring to his new commanding officer as captain for the first time.
    Howard explained the entire propulsion plant was defunct. The crew was reporting numerous defects and major failures throughout the engineering spaces.
    Gallant