EXETERRPG: (18, 10:00) CO, Lt. Commander Trip Williams and FO, Lt. SG Ailynn Bracken (note: Funeral for Kyros Ryelle, all are welcome to reply to this post)

[Will Banowsky]

Mission: The flames of purity
Day: 18
Stardate: 2445.09.18

(USS Exeter - Starlight Lounge - CO, -Lt. Cmdr Trip Williams & FO, Lt. SG
Ailynn Bracken - 10:00)

Funerals were never easy. A time filled with sadness, with grief, and
mourning. It was not Trip’s first funeral, it wouldn’t be his last. But he
knew they would never be easy. The first funerals he presided over were
after the Second Battle of Wolf 359, in which numerous members of the
Fighter Wing were killed in action, including Ravok’s co-pilot and gunner,
Ensign Baker. Thankfully they had only lost one person, one life, one
friend. But it still hurt, it would always hurt. The body of Kyros Ryelle
had been recovered and was currently in the morgue on ice. It would be
taken to his old monastery on Bajor where he will be buried with his
brother monks, as was requested in his file.

Trip stood at the front of the room, looking at those assembled. They were
dressed in their dress uniforms. He was standing on a stage overlooking the
crowd. Behind him were two chairs, one that was empty, his chair, the other
was occupied by Ailynn, a little worse for wear, but up and running. Trip
stood at the podium and sighed.

“It is never easy to say goodbye to a crewmember, to a friend. These are
the moments that we dread. The moments in the academy that they try and
hammer into our heads. That part of the duty of a Starfleet Officer, could
lead to the ultimate sacrifice. We don’t always come home. As a commanding
officer, it is a solemn duty, to honor our dead, to make sure they are
remembered. So we gather here today to pay tribute to, and to remember our
fallen friend, Dr. Kyros Ryelle. A man so full of life, of hope. I did not
know him well, but those that did knew one truth about him, he always
placed himself second. He was a deeply spiritual man that understood the
truths and realities of service. It is with sadness, that he is not here,
because he would be the one I would turn to, in this moment of grief, to
find comfort and hope. After the second battle of Wolf 359, the first time
I ever lost those under my command, Ryelle sought me out, and we spent
three hours talking about life and death. Once he was satisfied I was ok,
he left. But only when he knew I would be ok.” Trip paused as he fought
back a tear that was welling in his eye. He scanned the crowd for his wife,
locking eyes with hers looking for strength to continue.

Ashlyn dabbed a tissue to her eyes, only just holding it together. Drawing
in a breath, she pulled herself back together, knowing that Trip needed her
to be strong, not for herself, but to make the pain of this task a tiny bit
more bearable. Gently she nodded, her eyes, pools of sorrow, where fun and
levity normally swam.

“The thing I most took away from that moment was simple words. It is ok to
grieve, it is ok to be sad, it is ok to mourn. You do not have to always be
strong. It is ok to cry, to show weakness. He looked at me and said,
‘Showing vulnerability is showing strength. You do not need to hide your
sadness, your grief to yourself. You’re only, for lack of a better term,
human.’ You see at that point, I was holding my pain inside. It was hard, I
felt responsible and guilty. I was isolating myself from my friends, I
wanted the focus to be on my fallen friends, my fallen comrades. But he
looked me square in the eyes…” Trip couldn’t hold the tears at this point,
struggling through his words he continued. “It’s commendable you want the
focus to be on the deceased, on their friends, and their family. But your
friends, your family, they may not know your fallen comrades, but they know
you. They want to be there for you. Let them.” He paused to wipe the tears
from his eyes. “To those who knew him well, who were his close friends, who
loved him dearly. It is ok to cry, we mourn together. We mourn our brother.
But we celebrate his life, we celebrate the joy he brought. We carry that
in our hearts. We will rally around each other, because it is what he would
want. We flock to each other, because he knew that we can’t grieve alone.
We mourn our brother, we mourn together. His spirit will watch over us,
guide us. And while today we say goodbye to our brother, the truth he knew,
and believed in, died for, is this. Today may be farewell, but we will meet
him again. May the prophets welcome you home.” Trip then turned and walked
back to his chair, trying to say strong. But his empathic abilities were
picking up everyone's emotions, and it was too much to contain. He was sad,
but that was ok.

“The floor is yours if you want to say something Lynn.” He whispered to
Ailynn.

Ailynn could feel the weight of the occasion resting on her shoulders now
making her injuries, as yet not properly healed, feel all the more painful.

“You don’t have too.”

She caught her oldest friend's concern, but nodded. “Yes I do.” She
whispered back.

Trip then sat down as Ailynn went to the podium.

Ailynn limped slowly to the podium, wincing in pain with each step, but
shaking her head and refusing help. Sighing deeply as she reached the
podium, she looked at the PADD of notes that she had exhaustively written,
but now something different came to her mind..

“I did write some words, but now that’s all they seem...just words.” Ailynn
held up the PADD, and put it back down, unopened.

“As I stand here, I feel the need to speak, not with the words from my
head, but using the ones from my heart. It’s an old adage from back home,
that if you were to take a stock of someone’s character, of their life,
then look no further than everyone’s reaction to their death. As I stand
here, in front of you all, I know that each and every one of you have their
own memories, their own stories that they are clinging to in their hearts
at this very moment. His gentle manner made everyone he spoke to feel
special, He enriched everyone’s lives just by passing by, and trading
greetings. His outward manner however, belied a keen mind, and a sense of
faith, and purpose in life, that not only will I forever be jealous of, but
it steered him, in gentle acceptance of his own death, not ever fearing his
final moments, even to the last.”

Ailynn took a sip of water from a glass left at the podium for her.  “I
could speak of his way of making anyone he spoke to feel so much bigger
than themselves, every room that he entered seemed warmer, and every one he
left, colder, and more empty. Now though, all I’m doing is telling you what
each and every one of us already knows. For many of us, death is but a part
of life, and as a medic, a surgeon, I refute that, death is not my friend;
but Ryelle strove to teach me otherwise; and teaches me stil, that moving
on from this life, merely takes us on our next great journey.”

Once more, another small sip of water. “And it was here that I ran out of
my own words, but I was reminded of a poem that back in high school we were
forced to read, and discuss. I didn’t understand it back then, and it’s
only under the lens of recent events that I now begin to grasp at its
message  . ‘Gone from my sight, by Henry Van Dyke.’” Carefully, Ailynn read
the words, though she didn’t need to.

“I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone."

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined
port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.

And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying…”

Carefully placing the PADD back on the lectern, she bowed her head slightly.

“Walk with the Prophets; in peace, my friend.”

Ailynn was only just holding it together, she hadn’t opened up properly to
anyone about the full events of Ryelle’s sacrifice. Now tears ran fully
down her cheeks as she limped back to her chair. She felt a hand enclose
her own.

Trip held Ailynn’s hand squeezing it tight. “You did good Lynn, you did
good.” He whispered into her ear, then gave her a hug and a friendly kiss
on the cheek. “He would be proud.”

Trip then returned to the podium.

“I want to thank you all for joining us today. It is a somber, solemn
moment, as we come together to mourn our fallen friend. But he walks with
the prophets now, and we rejoice….We rejoice, that in his final moment, he
got to walk with them, and honor them. So as we mourn our brother, let us
also celebrate him. You are all free to stay and talk, and be with each
other as long as you need. He would want it that way. And while I don’t
know any traditional Bajoran commendations for the dead, please indulge me
with this old Earth prayer.” Trip took a deep breath. His Latin was rusty,
his understanding of Earth religion even more so, but this was an old
prayer that the Williams clan had been saying at funerals for centuries,
and it seemed appropriate now.

“Requiem æternam dona ei, Domine. Et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in
pace. Amen.”

(reply all at funeral)
(posted by Will and Mark)
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