Last week, the world learned of the passing of writer Peter David. David was probably best known for his work on The Incredible Hulk, but for me, he was one of the absolute best writers of Star Trek novels and comic books of the late-20th century. In that vein, I can think of no better tribute to pay to him than to review the very last Star Trek comic book he wrote as part of a long run as the book's regular author (not the last such comic he ever wrote. Just his last as the regular author): Star Trek Vol. 2, No. 19, cover dated May, 1991. The title of the story is "Once a Hero!"The story begins with Captain Kirk working on the memorial service for a crewmember who died in the line of duty. Specifically, Ensign Thomas Lee, a security officer who died on his very first away mission while saving Captain Kirk's life. The task is doubly painful, both because Kirk recognizes the debt he owes to Lee, but also because he realizes that he didn't know the dead man at all. Determined to offer Ensign Lee more of a tribute than "empty words delivered by a captain who didn't really know him," Kirk interviews every crewmember who may have potentially known Lee. Sadly, he soon learns, no one else aboard the Enterprise knew Lee, either.
The conversations that ensue offer reflections on the meaning of life and the interconnectedness of the people we share it with, sometimes in spite of whether or not we recognize this fact. The issue, and Peter David's time as head writer of the Star Trek comic book, closes out with Ensign Lee's memorial service. The following is Kirk's eulogy, presented in its entirety:
The following is the Starfleet approved eulogy that is recommended in cases like this...
"We are here to honor the memory of Name-Goes-Here. Rank, Surname was a fine officer, a credit to Starfleet, and a sterling representative of the Blank race. Space exploration is a dangerous task. Rank, Surname knew this, and yet He, She, or It did not let that deter Him, Her, or It. We can be thankful that we had the privilege of working with Rank, Surname, and will forever honor the name of our fallen comrade."
I cannot tell you the number of times I have delivered that eulogy, filling in the proper blanks, embellishing slightly where I could. And I have congratulated myself after each one, telling myself that I did honor to the name of the dearly departed.
Death has blended into death. I have lost more good men and women than I can count. Their faces blur before me, and I have come to realize that we cannot honor their names when we cannot remember them. That we cannot honor the words of our nice, safe eulogy... when they are merely words.
I have spoken to over a dozen of you today, and discovered that none of you knew Thomas Lee. Nor did I. Even though he was a member of this crew, sharing the same dangers and same rewards. Even though he was one of us, he was... a cypher. A no one. Defined by the parameters of his position: a security guard. No one got to know him. No one cared.
He spoke to no one, and no one spoke to him. He was just... another man in the ranks. I do not blame you. I'm as guilty as any of you. But Thomas Lee died saving my life. Perhaps it's selfish. But I want that to mean something. I want him to mean something.
His mother's name was Anna. His father's, Jack. He has one sister who died when she was five. He was born in Sparta, Illinois. Graduated in the upper half of the academy.
I have more facts at my fingertips. But I don't know his favorite color. I don't know his tastes in music, or if he was ever in love, or how he took his coffee, or if he drank coffee. I don't know why he joined Starfleet. I don't know what he wanted to accomplish. I don't know him. I don't know a man who saved my life, and I never will.
There was absolutely nothing special about him. And it was the realization that I perceived him as not being special, that indicated that there was something wrong with me.
Just another man. Just another expendable security guard who won't come back.
How many have we lost? How many have we cared about?
While we are busy exploring the unknown wonders of space, we must not lose touch with exploring the wonders of each other.
We must always make time for one another, because we don't know how long we'll all be around.
I will always regret having taken for granted someone who sacrificed himself without a second thought.
Because the death of even one of us...
...diminishes us all.
RIP, Peter David
No comments:
Post a Comment