Eulogy by Garnet
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Three years ago the war began. Now it's over. The world rejoices but I cannot join them because today I must say a last farewell to the heros of our victory.

To most people they were simply G-Force. To a few they were only orphans. To a small number they were a tool in our military's arsenal. To me they were the children I never had. I valued them not just for what they could do but also for who they were. Beyond the implants and the training, each one was an individual and that is what I miss.


Mark, the Eagle, the natural born leader. He was sharp and shrewd. He could think fast on his feet, but he had a soft side, too. He loved Princess, whether he told her or not, and valued her above all else.

He loved to fly and enjoyed the freedom and thrill it offered.

His dream was that when the war was over, he could marry Princess, have a family and spend his days passing on his passion to a new generation.

Now his legacy will be simply the fact that there is another generation.

God speed and high flight, Mark.


Jason, our rebel with a cause. Of all of them, he's the one I believe went out the way he would have chosen. His driving force had always been to avenge his parents and make Spectra pay for their deaths. The only other way would have been sweeping into one of the turns at Indianapolis with his foot on the gas and his eyes on the prize at the end: the checkered flag and a cold bottle of milk in Victory Lane.

I will never be able to view the Indy 500 without thinking of what might have been, Jason.


Blessed are the peacemakers and that's what Princess was. The only female among males. She had a way of soothing bruised egos and resolving disputes that could have torn the team apart.

She loved all of them, but Mark was her soulmate. She would have died for him; and, who knows, maybe she did.

She was a munitions expert, but her heart wasn't in that. She wanted to be a wife, a mother and a musician.

She never got to fulfill those dreams, but because of her sacrifice other girls have the freedom to do the things she never did.


Keyop, our blithe spirit. Happiest chasing butterflies or scaring Princess with bugs, he bounced through life and into our hearts. He wanted to be an entomologist or a marine biologist when he grew up. When you're thirteen the possibilities are endless.

Created to be a part of G-force, he became much more. He was a bright spot in the dark of war, a friend to all who knew him and the protector of any small, defenseless creature.

So much potential gone so soon. The only child I raised from birth; in some ways I'll miss you most, Little One.


Tiny was the grounded one, which is odd to say of a pilot. He was the muscle to the others' brains. Big as a mountain, strong as an ox but with the heart of a teddy bear.

He never said much but all of us knew his loyalty and devotion. He let the others have the glory, all he needed was the Phoenix and the love of the team.

What would Tiny have been had the war not happened? My guess is a chef. He loved food and the fellowship that comes with a good meal.

Rest in peace, Tiny.


The memorial is over and I am left with only the sight of five newly covered graves and the smell of fresh-turned earth and flowers.

My vision sees only five happy faces, each smiling at me as if to say that all is well and they are forever happy, forever young and forever together, just as they would have wanted to be.

The world is a little older, darker, sadder and quieter without them here, but they would remind me that at least it is still here.

Their shared monument simply reads: G-Force. Always five acting as one.

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