The black wood shone in the afternoon sunlight, and he stared at the light dancing across the surface. He wanted this day to be over, wanted the galaxy to go back to the way it used to be. Maybe then he’d be able to understand what was happening. The leaves dappled the wood, and he watched the changing shapes with a distant interest. From here he couldn’t tell which box belonged to who, and he found that he preferred it that way.

    The priest stood at the head of both boxes, his book open and spread between the fingers of one hand as he gestured with the other. The longer he watched the man the more alone he felt. The people around him murmured softly to each other, though they never spoke a word to him. Which he appreciated. He didn’t think he could survive another person telling him how sorry they were.

    The sermon continued, and the sun continued to sink in the sky. The shadows started to grow longer, and after a while his eyes fixed themselves upon the shadows the boxes cast onto the holes they stood beside. Soon six feet of Earth would separate him from his two oldest friends. The two people he had left in the galaxy.

    The priest finished his passage and said his name softly. It startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up at the man, his eyes weary and tear stained. The man gestured for him to come forward and slowly he pushed himself to his feet. People fell silent as he approached the priest, his footsteps heavy and slow. When he finally stood beside the man, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, his fingers shaking with exhaustion as he unfolded the thin white paper. 

    He had hastily scrawled the words he meant to say across the clean white surface, but as he stared at the black marks he found his tongue heavy and his mind numb. Looking up at the waiting people he closed his eyes, pain washing over him. Shoving the paper into the priest’s hands he returned to his seat. Slouching in the warm wooden chair, he curled in on himself. His hands held his head up and he stared at a patch of grass.

    “Jenna, was one hell of a woman. The best woman I’ve ever met, and the only one who ever infuriated me the way she did. I first met her when she was a kid on the street, and I had recently been made admiral of the fifth fleet. I told her about the Alliance she she sat and listened for hours.

    “David, was my best friend. Brave and good. If anyone had deserved the promotion I got after the First Contact war it was him. He was everything I aimed to be. Loyal, trusting, smart. He remained the one person I trusted in this galaxy until the very end, and without him my life is a lot emptier than it used to be.”

    The priest paused, and Hackett sank lower into his hands. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, and he took a deep, unsteady breath. They’re gone. The bitter thought repeated over and over in his mind, and as the priest continued, the thought blocked out the rest of the speech. The rest of the ceremony faded away, even the gunshots barely registered in his mind, and he didn’t say a word as someone placed the two Alliance flags on the chair beside him.

    He was alone.

    The woman he had considered a daughter, and the man he considered a brother, his best , gone with her. Damn this war. Damn everything for taking them from him. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he slowly raised his head from his hands to look at who it was. Major Alenko stood beside him, his face heavy with regret and loss. His eyes looked as empty as Hackett felt. Glancing at the two caskets he found them already sitting in their graves.

    “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect them.” He whispered, reaching over and grabbing the top flag. “This is yours.” He handed the flag over to the major who only nodded his thanks, his mandibles twitching as he tried to keep himself from crying.

    The two sat and stood in silence for a long time. Words seemed inadequate, and if the admiral was honest there was nothing he wanted to say anymore. Everything that he wanted to say he should have said when they were alive. When they could have heard it all.

    He watched as the grave digger slowly began to shovel dirt into the holes. The soft dirt hit the top of David’s casket and slid to the side, with only some dirt remaining on the top of the dark wood. It took almost twenty minutes for the man to fill in the hole, and then another twenty minutes for Jenna’s to be filled in. By the time both were finished, the sun was sinking behind the horizon and shadows were beginning to fill the world around them.

    Slowly Hackett pushed himself to his feet, David’s flag in his hands. He was alone. Jenna and David were gone. He would miss them. After all… They had been daughter and brother to him for so long. Turning to look at Kaidan, he opened his mouth to say good-bye, but found the man already turning away.

    He was alone. And he always would be.