Silverwind sat in the large chair behind his desk and stared at the pair of faces that stared back, hovering on the images in the air above his desk. His left index finger was poised over the virtual keyboard, similarly projected above the surface of the table. Every few moments, he made to type a letter, to write a word, before drawing back and re-considering. 
The sounds from the main room had drifted down to little more than the squadrons' movements as they came and went from their quarters, and he managed to restrain himself from fully bolting out of his seat when Aidan rapped on the door to his office. Looking up, the vulpine gave a nod as the corpsman indicated the papers, waving him in and gesturing to the chair in front of the desk in his small yet functional ready-room/office.
[quote]"It's a stock report and four patient reports for Arcade, Captain Sprinsteam, Aihara and yours truly. I, uh, didn't even know Myrina was hit too, I wasn't announced."[/quote]
Silverwind dragged the papers across the table, momentarily dismissing the keyboard with a gesture as he retrieved a pen from a holder made out of an old 40mm shell case on the tabletop. "Myrina was a shock to me, too", he added in reply as he signed his name in a left-handed scrawl across the bottom of the papers. "Seems like she was ambushed, and her GEARs' commo system was completely knocked out; the word only came in after the battle had ended. With the heavy interference in the area too..." he trailed off. The rest of the story didn't need to be elaborated upon. 
He returned the papers to Aidan and looked over at the medic. He'd proved himself to be a superbly capable asset and highly reliable. Blade listened, ears pricked, as the canine described his predicament, and gestured to his wound. The one-eyed fox raised an eyebrow at that; evidently it wasn't too serious, but then a wound was a wound. 

[quote]"But now, seriously, I am considering to place a request, sir. I know a few good guys back at 137th I trust enough to have them rummage through my own innards for bullets, and that says a lot."[/quote]

Silverwind sat back in the chair, and nodded. "With the losses we've had, and our general staffing levels, we're pretty stretched out. Not to mention, we're building this unit from the ground up. Between us? I have a feeling; based on my experiences from the past, that whatever we've stumbled into is going to get bigger. If you can suggest anyone else for the unit, then by all means get me a personnel profile together and send it over. I'll see if we can get them assigned." 
The fox hesitated, and then nodded with a tight smile. Aidan got up to leave, and Silverwind returned his salue with his normal casual flourish. The canine paused in the doorway to offer some last words of support, and Blade looked after him, muzzle propped on both interlaced hands, before he began to type, finally finding the right words. 
He'd barely started, before another familiar scent tickled his nose, followed by a soft-voiced announcement of Adrians' own arrival.
He looked up at the lapine, and gave a slight smile and a wag of his tail at his thanks.
"You don't need t' thank me Keel, lookin' after my people is what I'm s'posed to do... despite what happened today. Glad that I did manage to keep y'all outta trouble an' all too." 
The tall hare made to excuse himself, and Blade gestured to the seat. "Yer welcome t' sit down. Like I said a'fore. My door's pretty much always open if y'all wanna talk. 'Sides, I like the company now an' then too. He leaned back in the seat and shifted, still propping his head up on one hand, before closing down the images. 
"Y'know, I said before, at the end of that first exercise, that the brass are chasin' our heels. With the amount of drop-outs we've had, combined with the casualties we've had now, we're almost down to half our initial strength. Especially for GEARs, an' that's gonna hurt our strategies in th' long term. We lose any more people or equipment, then the higher ups' ain't gonna need to kill us off". He sighed and shifted again, sitting up straight.
"I'm sorry," he began again, "this prob'ly ain't exactly th' thing y'all wanna here t' keep ya motivated, is it?" He gave a shake of his head with a rueful smile. "I'm glad yer with us. Y'all showed plenty of skill in the battle, an' with the trainin' earlier on too. Yer clear-headed in a jam, an' havin' someone with combat experience is always good. Hope y'all decide to stick around as well, an' that we get more of a chance to speak when things aren't so..." he waved a hand towards the desk, indicating the somber affair of the downed pilots. "...bleak. Like I said - if y'all ever need anythin', then lemme know. In the meantime, I guess I'd better do my commanders' duties, and start writin'".


A few short hours later - sooner than he'd have liked - Blade stood in the hangar, which had been temporarily re-arranged. The GEARs, most of the way through their maintenance and with their exterior armour still removed, were each covered in drapings the royal blue colour of the Landren flag. Myrina and Arcades' own GEARs had each been moved to the head of the bay, polished and waxed, and draped with a sash bearing the devices and symbols representing their pilots' own awards and accolades. 
The rest of the ships' complement, barring essential personnel, had turned out for the short memorial service. In the centre of the bay, the two blackwood tree caskets gleamed under the bright lights. Each was draped with the standard of the LDF. Blade stood at the head of the group, his dress uniform virtually immaculate and cutting a dashing, if severe, image. The Roughriders had been detailed to stand at the front of the assembly, with the rest of the group behind them. 
The last few members of the assembly filed in, and the nervous shifting, coughs and murmurs rebounded around the stillness of the bay, before Blade eyed the assembly. Casting his single-eyed glance around, he drew himself to ramrod straight, and bellowed in his best voice:
[b]"DETAIL! A-TEN HUT!"[/b]
He waited for the shifting of feet coming together and bodies coming to attention to fade, before he stepped up to the podium. 
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q2vM6WmtU2s]"At ease," he said in a quieter, more somber tone.[/url] "Thank you. We gather today to remember and honour the lives of two of our own. Each of us has pledged our service to the ideals of the Landren Defence Force, and all of us stand ready to answer the call to arms and duty. 
"Many of us have faced danger in course of our service; some of us have even come back from the cauldron of battle wounded, either inside or out. None of us can predict how we will react, how our colleagues, our comrades and brothers-and-sisters in arms, will react emotionally, physically or otherwise when they are faced with the insanity of the battlefield. We can only hope that the oaths we have sworn, the training we prepare our hearts and minds with, and the people we stand alongside, will be enough for us to face down the challenges upon us."
He paused, looking out across the arrayed faces. He looked over the arrayed ranks of the ships' crew, their varied features, fur, eye and hair colours, the men and women looking back. He saw sadness, fear, anger, and all manner of emotions. He looked at his own people, his Roughriders - what did they think? What words were going through their minds? 
He straightened again, and continued. 
"Arcade Ruthless and Myrina Michelete were both experienced GEAR pilots, and LDF personnel. Both of them had proven their skill and expertise in numerous missions, operating with professionalism, skill, dedication and finesse in their careers. While other commanders may have questioned their methods, citing them as 'problematic' or defiant, the force of their unique characters, their strong and versatile personalities, made them the dynamic people they were, both in and out of combat. The achievements and records speak for them," he said, gesturing with one hand to the GEARs flanking the assembly on both sides of the bay, and standing twice the height of the assembled Arvarans. "And they will live on. It is important, for all of us, to remember the people they were, as well as the things they have done. While they were not part of our brotherhood for long, they were influential in our formative stages, knitting us together and helping us define what it means to be one of the Roughriders with their driving personalities, influential ideas and tactics, and their words and thoughts to all of us both in the Roughriders and aboard the [i]Parvan's Claw.[/i] He paused. What more could he add? The pair of them had been good fighters, had done their best, and bad luck and overwhelming force had taken them down. It was a strangling, complex web of feelings that ran through him, and no doubt through the rest of the crew as well; the realization it could happen to anyone would be strong. What more could he say, how he could he shore up their doubts and fears?
Gripping the edges of the podium, the electrofiber muscles in his left arm humming quietly, he cast a one-eyed gaze over them all.
"Lieutenant-Colonel Michelete and Second Lieutenant Ruthless were expert warfighters in their field. None of us here could have predicted what would happen to them. Their being cut down in the line of duty is a sad and terrible thing. But we must use it to become stronger. Their memory is something that will bring us together, unite us in their loss and departure to become better, harder, more resolute and more dedicated. This way we go forward with them strong in our hearts and minds, so that others may survive and endure, and their losses were not in vain. Stand tall with me now, and let us all remember them well, fondly and proudly."
Once again, he called the room to attention as the [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNY7KSZ8wC4]Landren National Anthem[/url] played. As the music reached its' crescendo, he raised a salute, and held it for a few moments, before lowering his hand. Smartly turning on one heel, he marched to one side of the podium, where Captain Garrett, also dressed in her own formal uniform, presented him with the folded flag from each coffin. He'd turn them over after the ceremony, of course, to another crew member. Myrina and Arcades' remains would be released to their families, along with the folded flags. It wasn't much, but it was something.
The doe saluted him smartly, her crisp white glove touching the brim of her captains' cap. Blade returned the salute smartly and slowly, his own glove pausing just at his eyebrow, below the rim of his beret. They held the posture for a few heartbeats, before each smartly turning 90-degrees. Blade joined the end of the Roughriders' line, and Captain Garrett took the podium.
"Thank you all," she said in a crisp, clear and calm tone. "We shall all remember Michelete and Ruthless. They were invaluable to this crew, and to this vessel. As is customary, there will now be a gathering to celebrate their lives and achievements in the mess. Please, if your duties allow, join us there to toast to their memories. Company, dismissed"
Everyone began to drift away as they fell out by ranks. The captain nodded toward the Roughriders, stepping briefly to their side as she made her way out of the hangar.
"Ladies, gentlemen; you'll be pleased to know that I'll be fetching a bottle from my own personal stash to raise in a toast with you all to the memory of our friends. I hope to see you in the Mess shortly." She nodded and headed off, before Blade turned back to the others.
"Okay, folks. I ain't gonna make it an order... but I'm sure as hell heading to the mess, an' raisin' a glass or twelve to our departed friends, and to our own lives and futures. I'd appreciate it if y'all join me. Drinks are on me fer the first round, and I'll be happy to talk my jaw off with all an' any of y'all there."

Silverwind lead the way up to the mess. The counter was stocked with a small assortment of spirits, beers and wines from the limited array normally kept under lock-and-key on the land-ship, and a small buffet of foods had been laid out. A table draped with black cloth at the end of the room held framed photos of Myrina and Arcade, both from files of friends, or from social networking or albums on the 'net. Between the photos, a Roughriders uniform jacket had been laid out. Scrawled signatures and memorials were slowly increasing across the jacket, added to as the guests at the wake drifted to the table, raising a glass to the photos.
Blade stepped almost straight to the bar, pouring himself a fine helping of amber fire-whiskey (the spirit of his home region in Landren), with ice, and moving aside, exchanging brief greetings with others. 
"Drink up, team," he said to the others around him. "We have to let our departed know we remember 'em as the hell-raising, ass-kicking, stubborn, stalwart hard-as-nails Rough-Riding mothers they were. We mourned 'em, now we celebrate 'em for the hell-raisers, heart-breakers and life-takers the Roughriders are. Here's to them!" 
He raised the glass with a loud bark, and gulped almost the whole amount down his muzzle, and shouted: "ROUGHRIDERS!"
The rest of the room cheered, and Captain Garret gave him - and the rest of them - a cheer and a smile. 
Smiling to his men and women, he looked to all of them as he spoke. 
"I'm sure y'all might not be aware of this, but you're not the first Roughriders I've been part of. There was another unit, some years ago, that I was part of. We were good, [i]really[/i] good. Irry-" he indicated the red panda, who nodded and held up a glass "had a brother who was part of it an' all. And Captain Garrett also worked pretty close wi' us too. Anyhow, we had a whole buncha traditions, things I think that oughta carry on to this version of the unit too". He smirked and cocked his head. "Maybe if the drinks flow well, I'll teach you all our song-" 
(Captain Garrett coughed into her hand and hid a smile. Silverwind didn't notice) 
"-One is, we celebrate our fallen, an' fight hard fer all of 'em. Like I said 'afore. Y'all did well out there, an' I'm proud of all of you. Y'all have earned a celebration, an' ain't no one who disagrees with us raisin' a glass or five to our fallen. We'll get our own back fer 'em. Let's do 'em all proud!"