Chapter 4: Echoes Among the Tombstones

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Fabulous, Troxley. So well written and perfect illustrations

Another wonderful entry-I can feel the emotion of Colonel Larkin-you have told it so well. Beautiful

It's just as if I were reading a SG-1 script. Beautifully done brother!

As his time ended, Marcus fingered the tombstone. He stood. “I must go now. Got to catch a flight back to the SGC. Patrick, I will make you proud.” He stood at attention and gave a salute, put his cover back on and walked back to the vehicle, his eyes still fixed on his brother's grave. Marcus imagined Patrick standing there smiling and waving.

Colonel Larkin got into the vehicle and drove back to Joint Base Andrews. He felt a sense of relief come over him. It had been a painful and difficult thing to do but it needed to be done. He thought about the responsibilities awaiting him as the new commanding officer of SG-24. Colonel Larkin was ready to take on this new challenge, carrying his brother's memory as a source of strength and inspiration.

“Patrick, I wanted to tell you that I've been given a command of my own. It's your old unit: SG-24. I bet you'd be proud of me, your little brother. I will make you proud. I'll make SG-24 the best units in the SGC, except for SG-1 of course. I've selected all but one of my team members. I've got a bonnie lass from Scotland who can fix anything and a stoic Norwegian who specializes in weapons. I just need a cultural advisor. I don't know who to pick. So, if you could send a message to the Man Upstairs to guide me, I would appreciate that.” He knelt in silence for some time; every now and again he would cry.

“Mom and Dad say hello. They really miss you. I do too!” He paused for a short while. “I finished new wood carving. It's of a Spitfire. I know you wanted me to make one ever since we saw one at the Air and Space Museum.” He pulled it out and held it before the tombstone as if to show him. “I hope you like it.” Marcus began to break down and cry. “Oh, why did you have to die like that at the hands of those traitors? You had so much of life left ahead of you! You could have been a general!” He cried again. When he regained his composure, he spoke again.

He spent some time in silence recollecting all the good times he had spent with his brother. He remembered all the friendly challenges they had undertaken both as children growing up in the South Side of Chicago, and later in the Air Force. They would always celebrate when either got a promotion when they got together at the earliest convenience, often over good food and several bottles of whiskey. They would show each other what wood carving projects they’d been working on (a skill they had both learned from their grandfather), giving their masterpieces to each other as gifts.

Colonel Larkin arrived at the cemetery. Pulling out a map, he consulted it he consulted where he needed to go. In a matter of minutes, he found the section where his brother's grave was located. He parked the vehicle and taking a bouquet of flowers and a wood carving and consulting his map once again, he made his way where he needed to go. After some walking Marcus found his way to his brother's grave. The crunch of gravel under his boots was the only sound in the stillness. He took his cover off, knelt and fingered the engraving of the tombstone “PATRICK GARRETT LARKIN, MAJOR, USAF, MARCH 17, 1976- JULY 16, 2002.” He took his He spent some time in silence his brother's absence pressing down on him. Marcus talked to the tombstone as if his brother were there with him.

“Hey, bro,” he began his voice breaking. “I brought you some flowers. I thought you'd like that.” He placed them at the base of the tombstone.

Marcus was selected to join SG-11 as executive officer, and he excelled at that position. He went on many missions, the most notable being the Battle of P2Y-378 against the Lucien Alliance. His gallant actions on the battlefield earned him a promotion to Lieutenant Colonel and a choice of command. He requested to take command of SG-24, his brother's old unit.

He was in the process of selecting his teammates. He had selected two of them: Squadron Leader Isolde Fairbairn of the British Royal Air Force and Oversersjant Gunner Bjornson of the Royal Norwegian Air Force. All he needed was a fourth team member. He had been studying personnel files on the flight, but he could not find someone who was a good fit.