Open A Pale Light, Burning [Paqualis III]

[Silvi Velt-Morata]

-Theme-​

A live broadcast was sent to televise snippets of this event. She had taken pains to prepare this the right way. It had been some time to prepare, not only for the memorial service, but for the invitations she had to send. The endless questions, the eyes of the galaxy on her now. Not for the first time, she wished her father was here, that someone would stand by her side and hold her hand.

Bright blue eyes, once as light as a summer sky, were now dimmed, listless chalky blue in a face as pale as snow. White hair was cut short, in the tradition of her people; a black suit, tailored by only the best, wrapped around her narrow frame. She had lost so much weight, that none of her other outfits would have fit.

I'll have to thank Billie later, she thought dully, staring at herself in the refresher mirror. Feeling the weight of so much grief hanging about her shoulders, so heavy it felt like she could suffocate. Glancing at her comm, she began to type a message to Ezra, before erasing it, and slowly, reluctantly putting the phone away.

I have to stop waiting and wishing.

Dimly, she was aware of ships, landing from all corners of the galaxy. The select few that knew Ilana would be invited here, as well as those she held in high esteem.

A knock interrupted her thoughts, a security droid voice lulling through the doorway. "Miss Morata, it's time."

Taking in a deep, calming breath, she stared at the mirror one last time. She could feel her hands begin to tremble, as tears threatened to spill. She could feel her throat ache with the desire to scream, to sob and wail and tear at her hair, but she shoved the feelings aside, brushed the tears away. Mother only wanted the best; she would provide the best she could.

Stepping through the doorway, she began the long walk towards the open air pavilion. Within the high, white walls of Chateau Vidalis, a green oasis made by the Good Doctor's own hands bloomed and flourished innocently, as if unaware of the tragedy that had happened not too long ago. The distant roar of the ocean susurrated in the background, as the tall maple tree cast its' shadow over the white memorial stone that commemorated the lives lost there.

Dimly, she was aware of others there, but her gaze was arrested on what was laid before the stone.

Dressed in a high-necked gold dress, with hands folded over her chest, laid the body of Amariel, surrounded by the flowers she loved so much, Amarialis silvani. She couldn't look down and see that peaceful face. It was wrong, too alien to be real. She stepped to the podium, bowing her head to the audience, aware only barely of the camera droid, recording this moment. Even less aware of the security detail that discretely arranged themselves near Silvi, stoic and stolid in solemn black. She forced herself to look up, to breathe deeply, though hidden behind the podium, her hands shook, knees threatening to buckle if she let go.

"Thank you all, for coming here today..."

@Darasuum @lizziie @The Good Doctor @Sreeya

 

[Korre Belasi]

Grief was not an emotion that Korre was intimately familiar with. She'd been lucky - incredibly lucky - in her life. The closest she could compare this feeling to was when the former senator of Onderon had perished, but really, the two of them were strangers compared to her and Ilana.

Korre was one of the first to arrive, a small, somber smile on her lips as she made small talk with the other attendees while they all waited for the doctor's daughter to arrive and begin the event. The Belascan was dressed modestly in black, indicative of her mourning.

When the woman's daughter arrived, Korre moved over and took a seat, baby blues watching Silvi with a mixture of pity and empathy.

@Killa Ree @Darasuum @The Good Doctor @Sreeya

 

[Jayna Thorne]

Jayna was amongst the first funeral guests to arrive, slipping onto the pavilion where the others had begun to congregate. Despite the chaos that engulfed her family, the Heiress made a point to be an attendance - her expression fixed into a somber deadpan. After all, her father had been long-time friends with Doctor Morta, and their similarly-wealthy families had always frequented the same circles growing up.

The Heiress wore a simple black dress with a slit at the leg - accessorized with a diamond necklace and Bonheur clutch tucked under her left arm. Her black hair was tied into a neat bun, with only a few strands of hair loosely framing the sides of her face.

She found her seat next to Korre, offering the former-Prime Minister a respectful nod of her head. The Heiress made a point to introduce herself to the woman before she left, but kept her attention fixed onto the service for the time being. Her gaze gradually fell upon Silvi - watching as the girl entered the pavilion. Though they weren’t especially close, the two of them had been nothing but friendly in the past, and Jayna couldn’t help but feel that pang of sympathy for the girl. The loss of a parent was something that Jayna hoped she wouldn’t experience for a long, long time.

If Silvi ever looked in her direction, Jayna would offer a simple nod of her head in acknowledgement.

 

[Silvi Velt-Morata]

She felt sick to her stomach. Not for the first time, she desperately wished she could see her father's face. To hear his voice, to feel like she wasn't alone. The weight that had lodged itself in her chest began falling, settling hard in her stomach, and she took in a deep breath. Faces swam in and out in front of her, and pale blue eyes listlessly drifted over Korre with only a flicker of recognition, the pity in the woman's gaze burning like bile in the back of her throat.

One face she could pick up instantly. Like a ballast in the storm, a beacon of light in a hurricane.

The face that was so similar to Ezra, yet their personalities were so different. A woman she considered a friendly acquaintance, or perhaps a friend? Someone she hadn't expected to show, despite inviting all of the Thorne family. Seeing her face, those silvery eyes, was a balm, easing open her aching throat. Giving the woman a slight nod in return, she managed in a deep breath.

Your mother gave you the keys. Now you must unlock the door.

This would be the first step forward. She had to be strong, not only for her mother, but the galaxy, who was watching on. For the few who came to witness, like a spectacle.

She squared her shoulders, head held high. Emulating Ilana's own mannerisms, her voice came light, clear.

"My mother sought to serve the galaxy."

Past tense; it was all wrong. The body that laid out there wasn't her; it was another trick, a way to slip back to anonymity.

No.

Seeing Jayna there was a crash into reality. It was real; and now she would carry the torch further. She wouldn't be afraid.

"She was a visionary; she sought to unite the galaxy with the oath she held deeply personally; to heal all those who walked in her halls." But even some could not be saved. None could be saved.

"Though her life was cut short, she wouldn't want us to stop. We must carry on," she straightened, staring straight into the camera with an odd light burning in those pale blue eyes. Just for a moment, but it was there; the light of determination. "So we will carry on. Her legacy," she looked down, and then Korre's face once again loomed in her vision, "will be passed on to those who dare to push forward in the name of healing and science, curiosity and knowledge. To continue saving lives, regardless of creed or alliance. To provide care for all; and I intend to not let that vision fade."

Her hands trembled, and she felt dangerously ill. But she was almost done. Fake it til you make it.

"A terrorist murdered her in cold blood. But I will not let them extinguish what she worked for. This will remain a haven. And for those who stand in the way of my mother's vision..." she took in a deep breath. "Let them try."

"I am the Doctor's daughter. And I will continue her legacy until my wish is fulfilled; the lives that were lost were not in vain. We are here to remember them."

She forced herself to recite every name. Watched as every mourning family member placed a flower before the memorial.

She waited until the last of them had gone, before excusing herself. Let the rest of them say their goodbyes to the Doctor; she stepped from the podium once the feed from the televised droid was cut off, and staggered, feeling herself sway on her feet as bile burned in the back of her throat, tears starting to swim in her eyes as she closed them briefly, willing the sickness to fade.

I'm truly alone now. What now, Mother? What would you have me do now?

@Altaris @lizziie @Darasuum

 

[Kotii Solus]

Spoiler: Music

Black Hand first met Doctor Ilana Morata when he was searching to unite House Solus as its Alor. A lot had happened to the Mandalorian and it seems even more happened to the scientist that was responsible for saving his life. The man’s left cybernetic hand had been whole when they first met but had gone through a few versions and repairs since then. It was perhaps the only thing the man had to remember the woman.

Kotii had mostly known Doc in a professional manner but she seemed like a good person. The words of her daughter were true and he was proud to know someone of integrity like her. It was clear from where the Echani offshoot stood that the Arkanian offshoot giving the eulogy was having a tough time but what else could he expect.

The Mandalorian had seen the reports on the news. He was traveling in the Outer Rim when he had heard the news. If given the chance, he would offer to look into the circumstances of the woman’s death. There would be time for that during the wake.

Garbed in black, the Mandalorian was not the most appropriately dressed for a funeral. He did leave any illegal or suspicious armaments on his ship. When it was his turn, he approached the memorial with three white roses. Kotii would kneel and place the trio of flowers before the memorial among many others. The summer air itself smelled sweet with the scent of verdant flora. He spoke a whisper to the wind, a prayer for her ghost to hear or the Manda to carry to the place beyond.

<"One rose for my hand
One rose for my life
One rose for your friendship
You will be remembered, friend">​

Underneath his helmet, the badger’s pale and scared face was somber. He mourned the Doctor silently and thanked the stars for his opportunity to get to know her. Doc’s legacy would live on through her daughter and those she inspired, including Kotii Solus. Rising from his place he would stand and turn to be at the back of the collected group.

@Killa Ree @Altaris @lizziie