Lieutenant JG Ollie Bergmen - Final fifteen yards (part 1)

[CPT Arianus]

(( Lawn next to Dunbar’s funeral home, Thidia ))

He stood there, already waiting for him.  As the ramp slowly touched the grass, Ollie could see his red-and-black duty dress uniform, hands folded, waiting for Ollie to step out.

Bergmen didn't hesitate and stepped onto the manicured lawn near the funeral home. He gave a respectful nod to the funeral attendants who passed him to carry the casket out, as the Lieutenant headed directly to the Casualty Assistance Officer.

Bergmen: You must be Ensign Johansson.

Johansson: Yes, sir. Ensign Mike Johansson, appointed CAO from Starbase 324.

Ollie extended his hand and shook the man's hand.

Bergmen: Good to meet you, Ensign.

They exchanged respectful nods, and turned to the funeral home, walking to the building to finish why they both were here.

Bergmen: So, Ensign, I guess you had a hell of a two weeks, yes?

Johansson: Yes, sir. Senior Chief B’Torr and I flew all night to get there the Saturday before last. We notified father at zero-two in the morning, and mother at half to three the same night. They are separated. ::turns gaze to Ollie:: I tell you, sir, I hope to never go through that again…

Bergmen: So, how is the family doing?

Ensign touched Bergmen’s hand to slow down and stopped. Ollie turned to face him and looked into his eyes. Somewhere in his heart, he knew the question was unnecessary. Hannah often talked about her parents, so Ollie understood how they (didn't) cope.  But he wanted to hear it from a dispassionate observer.

Johansson: Well, sir…. It’s kind of hard to say. Some days we thought they were doing okay, but then… We told both mother and father you would arrive today. Mother and family are here, but father… He just seems to be mentally somewhere else, like he doesn't believe his daughter is... he's not here to see you.

Ollie let out a soft sigh, a sound heavy with contemplation, and nodded in understanding. His gaze drifted momentarily to the side, peering past the Ensign as if searching for answers in the swirling chaos of his thoughts. After a brief pause, he returned his focus to Johansson, offering a more deliberate nod, signaling his acknowledgment.

Bergmen: And you, Ensign? How are you doing?

The Ensign seemed taken aback by the question, but responded nonetheless.

Johansson: I…I’m ok, I think. Sir. (beat) It’s just been a long ten days. You know, I was invited by VSS Post here in Albionshire for a get-together tonight in honor of Chief Marks. You may want to come up for that, too.

Ollie fake-smiled and nodded.

Bergmen: Ok, sounds good. Should we?

The lieutenant gestured toward the funeral home, and both began to walk toward the heavy oak door, which loomed just a few steps ahead. As Ensign grasped the doorknob, he hesitated, a swirl of emotions flickering across his face. He turned to Ollie, his gaze locking onto his Lieutenant’s eyes, searching for understanding. In that moment, it was clear—etched in the depths of his expression— that Ensign was speaking the truth when he confessed how challenging the past weeks had been.

Johansson: I’m glad you are here, sir.

Bergmen: Yeah, me too.


(( Dunbar’s funeral home, Thidia ))

They stood in the dimly lit waiting area, enveloped by the scent of fresh flowers and polished wood. Shadows danced along the walls as they waited for the coffin to be prepared in the funeral hall, exchanging glances but unsure of what to say to each other.

So, when the funeral director finally emerged from the hall, it felt like a moment of liberation.

Garry: Your hotel is up to Albionshire, Lieutenant. The ceremony gonna be there too. You're gonna want to head out of here and get settled after you meet the family, right? I’m sorry for the long flight here and the need to drive there. We are a small colony. Settlement is sparse here. If you need, I can lend you a Land Raider.

Bergmen: Not a problem, Garry. Ensign can take me to Albionshire. Right, Ensign?

Ensign nodded.

Johansson: That sounds fine. Director, I have some items the family would like to have inserted into the casket. They said they prefer not to view the remains… So, I guess now would be a good time to do that.

Ollie nodded in agreement with Ensign.

Bergmen: Yes, that would be good… As… I need to check her uniform.

That surprised the funeral director.

Garry: Well, Lieutenant… You know it’s gonna be a closed-casket funeral, right?

Bergmen: I understand, but… huh, I just want to make sure she’s squared right away.

Garry: Okay…

The funeral director didn’t seem to understand, but he didn’t want to argue about it either, so he shrugged his shoulders and gestured to the officers that they could go. He walked them to the casket, let them gently lift the flag that had draped over it, then opened the casket lid and stepped back, giving them a moment of privacy.

Ensign took from his jacket a folded letter and a straw doll, which he tucked under her arms. Ollie tried to look as if he were inspecting the uniform, but his true emotions were difficult to conceal as he stood there, gazing at her serene form, lying peacefully, eyes gently closed, as if she were drifting off for a brief nap. Like she might awaken at any moment, and…

Bergmen: Folks at Trill did a great job. They knew she would not be viewed, and yet her uniform is perfect.

Ensign felt as though the very foundation of his resolve was about to crumble at those words, teetering precariously like a house of cards on the verge of collapse. He exhaled deeply, the weight of the moment pressing down on his shoulders. Taking a hesitant step back, he created a small distance between himself and the unsettling situation.

Johansson: I’m gonna… I take care of the paperwork, sir. If you excuse me.

Ollie nodded with a quiet, "Uh-huh," lost in his own unsettling emotions. He stood there for a long time, tears in his eyes, feeling silent pity, until the funeral director touched his shoulder.

Garry: If you’re ready to meet with the family. They are waiting for you. You can change in my office.

Bergmen nodded numbly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He cast a lingering glance at Garry, offering a solemn nod before turning his attention back to the coffin. He assisted in lowering the lid, his hands trembling slightly. Together, they carefully unfolded the flag, smoothing out every crease and ensuring it lay just right.


(( Family room, Dunbar’s funeral home, Thidia ))

Ollie walked down the long, polished hallway toward the family room. His ceremonial white dress uniform was crisp and pristine against the warm hues of the walls. In his hands, he clutched a blue bag containing Hannah's personal effects, along with a PADD containing a letter from her XO, addressed to the family.

Lieutenant paused just outside the doors, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. He glanced at the funeral director. With a nod that signified his readiness, Ollie steeled himself. The director opened the door with a gentle push, and as the Lieutenant stepped inside, he heard the soft click of the door closing behind him, sealing off the world outside.

Chriss, Hannah’s sister, Starfleet NCO herself, along with a young boy dressed in the Starfleet Scouts uniform, snapped to attention as soon as they spotted him. In quick succession, a man he didn’t recognize, along with Hannah's mother, stood up just after their children.

Elaine: You are Hannah’s escort?

Bergmen nodded and approached her to shake her hand.

Bergmen: Olliver Bergmen.

Elaine: Elaine Watters, Hannah’s mom. ::point to a man:: This is my husband, Leon, Hannah’s step-dad. ::point to Chriss:: Her sister, Chriss…

Chriss: ::nods:: Good to see you, Ollie.

Elaine: ::points to the boy:: …and her son, Ty.

Ollie's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sharp angles of son's facial features, illuminated by the soft light filtering through the window. He glanced over at Chriss, his eyes brimming with an unspoken question, searching for an answer. Despite his silent plea, her expression offered none.

Elaine: Thank you for your service, Lieutenant.

Ollie glanced at Hannah's mother and released her hand.

Bergmen: It’s my honor, ma’am. (beat) I’m just so sorry for your loss.

With a gentle smile, Mother nodded and gestured toward a chair, inviting him to take a seat.

Elaine: Please, come and sit.

Ollie carefully pulled out a chair, the legs scraping softly against the floor, and settled into it. He placed the blue bag beside him with a gentle thud and set the PADD down on the table, its screen faintly illuminating. For a moment, he hesitated, glancing at the family gathered nearby, but took a deep breath, ready to share something more.

Bergmen: First, I want you all to know that all along the way, Hannah was treated with dignity… And respect… And honor.

He allowed them a moment to process what he had just told them before continuing.

Bergmen: I have here a letter for you from Hannah’s XO.

He took a PADD and handed it to her mother.

Elaine: Thank you…

Ollie nodded.

Bergmen: Uh, I also have here some of Hannah’s things.

He reached into the bag, pulled out an antique wristwatch, and handed it to Chriss. She looked at them, her hands trembling, and gazed at Ollie.

Chriss: They are still set to Bajor time…

He remained silent, his eyes focused ahead, betraying nothing of his thoughts. Instead, he withdrew Hannah's combadge from the bag, its metallic surface glinting faintly in the light, and set it down carefully on the table. Chriss passed the watch to her mom and took the combadge, turning it in her hand to the name, rank, and ship engraving on the other side. She gently ran her finger over the engraving, sighed, and passed the combadge on. As a last item, Ollie gently placed Hannah’s bronze Saint Christopher medallion. With her voice trembling and eyes glistening with unshed tears, Mother gently lifted the medallion and turned to Hannah's son.

Elaine: This is the medallion that Grandma gave her when she enlisted. It’s yours now.

The lieutenant sat in solemn silence, allowing time for their grief. As the cherished items were passed from hand to hand, the room filled with the sound of quiet sobs and muffled whispers, each tear a testament to their shared pain. Finally, after a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, he inhaled deeply, drawing strength from his own sorrow. With a voice that was steady yet filled with emotion, he began to prepare for the delivery of his final words.

Bergmen: I want you to know, you do not mourn alone today. All across the Federation, from the Betazed to Bajor, Trill, Orion, Celes, Borderlands… There are those who are thinking of you. You should know that Hannah has touched the hearts of many…

Ollie pushed his chair back from the table and straightened, standing tall with his shoulders back.

Bergmen: There is one more thing I’d like you to have… ::withdrew the IDIC from the bag:: …attendant in Orion handed this to me, and… it seemed like it was… very special to her. I was… I was going to keep it as a reminder of the trip, but then I realized that… she wasn’t giving it to me. She was giving it to you.

The lieutenant set the Vulcan IDIC down carefully on the table and nodded to everyone around the table.

Bergmen: It was my honor to bring Hannah home.

As he spoke those final words, he turned and walked out of the room. He had taken only five or six steps down the hallway when he heard the creak of the family room door swinging open behind him and Chriss’ voice.

Chriss: Ollie, wait. Please, Ollie…

He stopped,  the sound of her footsteps echoing softly from behind, drawing nearer until she was mere inches away. Slowly, he turned to confront her, his heart racing as their eyes met in the dim light.

Chriss: I’m so sorry, Ollie, I know, it’s…

Bergmen: How old is he? Is he… mine?

Chriss averted his eyes, unable to bear the weight of his accusing gaze, which felt like a piercing arrow aimed directly at her.

Chriss: Ollie, I know she was special to you. And I know you are upset now, and I get it. But Ollie, this was Hannah’s choice not to tell you. This isn’t on anyone but her.

Ollie closed his eyes and drew in deep, calming breaths, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he fought to quell the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him, the tension that had gripped him tightly. He glanced at Chriss and shook his head, expressing his disapproval.

Bergmen: No.

He turned sharply and began to walk away, his footsteps echoing softly down the dimly lit hallway. The weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on his shoulders, an invisible load of the looming reality he felt unprepared to bear nor confront.

Chriss: Ollie… Ollie!

TBC

–

Lieutenant JG Ollie Bergmen
Operations Officer
U.S.S. Artemis-A
A240009JC1