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The Funeral of Louis Egon


Michael McBride

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It was the largest gathering place in Redemptio. Not a church or a temple, but a sports stadium. Memorial Stadium, home of the Redemptio Reds soccer team, was the site of Louis Egon's funeral. Sixty-seven thousand packed the stadium to honor their dead leader. Dead, not slain, Dobbs reminded himself. These people were not to know the means as to how Louis died. Heart attack was the official story coming from the administration, and while there was some speculation with the other murders of his associates, Dobbs' team had generally managed to keep that out of the media spotlight.

Stepping up to the podium with the black coffin to his right, Dobbs cleared his throat. He was dressed in a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He looked up at the packed stadium and swallowed hard. He had to get this right.

"Citizens of the Federation, thank you for coming out today. I know that our hearts are all joined today in mourning, for today we have lost a friend, a brother, and a true patriot. Louis Egon." He paused, looking down at his notes before looking up again. "Out of the storm of civil war, Louis united the country once again. He helped turn the Federation into what it is today. He led our nation in wars, wars that we have won and prove ourselves sovereign and strong. In honor of Louis' valiant service to the Federation, his hometown of Tampa shall be officially renamed Egon in his honor. Let everyone remember this brave and strong man. Those who speak against his character and caring for the Federation only seek to drive us apart. Pay them no mind. Together, we shall be strong. Together, we shall survive."

Another pause followed, and Tom set his shoulders. He knew what he had to do. Deviating from his notes, he looked up. "This world is a dangerous place. We must always be prepared, always vigilant. While the skies may look clear today, we must always be watchful for that storm that may be forming just over the horizon. Keep a weather eye on the horizon for such storms, lest they catch us by surprise. That is what Louis would want his legacy to be."

With a nod, Tom stepped back from the podium and a team of pallbearers walked forward and grabbed the coffin, lifting it to their shoulders and beginning a slow walk out. Off to the other side, a chorus stood, ready to sing. A young boy and older woman stepped forward and began the funeral song (OOC:

)

As the music filled his ears, Tom Dobbs' eyes stayed locked on the coffin that was being walked out of the stadium, and could not help a feeling of dread rising inside of him. They had traded an enemy they knew for an enemy they did not even though she was among them. His gaze flickered up, and over the top of the stadium he could see a thundercloud to the west.

"Let it be," he whispered.

Edited by Pravus Ingruo
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