PHD 248: Come Together
Come Together
Summary: The crews of the Hestia and the Kharon participate in a joint memorial service
Date: 248 (12/22/2009)
Related Logs: None

Hexagonal in shape, the chapel is a quiet and tranquil place of worship where crew members come to give prayer and offerings of worship towards their deity of choice. Three tiers of benches ring the room in concentric lines, radiating inward to a slightly raised dais. The dais itself is lit from beneath, thick white opaque panels covering the lighting that's mirrored from above. Small offerings are left in the form of incense cones and small baubles ontop of the podium styled altar which has stylized carved figurines of each of the twelve major dieties. At each point of the hexagonal platform, there's a waist-high metal brazier in which burns a single pillar candle during ceramonies.

Roubani is just making his way in, wearing well-pressed formal blue. He sidesteps Kai so as not to block exits, silent as he makes his way towards one of the benches. Not sitting yet, hands folding behind his back as his eyes flicker around. His prayer beads are wound loosely around his right wrist.

Breaching the Chapel doors, Praxis also enters into the room as that time starts to roll around. The Lt. Colonel begins to move amongst the several tiers of benches, until he reaches the front row. When this is achieved, he lowers himself onto the surface and carefully folds his hands in his lap, chin raised slightly with his eyes pointed to the front. To any more additional arrivals, he does not turn his head unless called after, just simply sits quietly.

The Chapel hatch opens and Thea steps in, clad in her dress uniform and one hand tugging lightly at the jacket to make sure it's straight. She's right behind Praxis. Once he's taken his seat, she moves into one just behind him in the second row.

Kore is in marine dress, and along with members of both the Air Wing ans the Marines steps over to a side toward the front where a small collective of both enlisted and officers are gatherd. Within moments they've arranged themselves in a small grouping, women on one side and men on the other, and seem inclined to wait out things being brought to readiness in solemn silence.

Unlike a few others held in their blues, it seems that the S2 has come in greys. Perhaps a bit old fashioned in those regards, but he is done up to the hilt. Complete with the glossy looking holster and gunbelt, Tombs is in Marine mourning gear. A look is given to a few of the newer faces, but all the same he is moving to find his place amongst the Hestia officers, within the realm of where the Marines usually find themselves. A nice little purgatory right there.

People are sitting, and that's enough cue for Roubani. He stays at the row he chose, back a bit from the senior officers down front, and silently sits. Unwinding his wooden beads from his wrist, he lets them fold neatly in his hand.

Persy's cane-limp-cane gait taps out a stacatto that announces her arrival. Also in dress uniform, the small blonde looks subdued — wilted and solemn, tried and blue-shadowed. But who among them isn't? She carefully makes her way to Roubani and slides in alongside him, leans on him a moment without a word.

Dress greys seem the order of the day for Sen and her husband Abraham Hale as they step through the Chapel door with their fingers entwined. The link is broken when Hale steps to the side, holding open the hatch door for his wife and a few others to slip through. Still assigned to the Kharon, Sen's appearance to this Memorial is likely (and guiltily) fueled by the fact that she gets to spend some time with her spouse. They slip in quietly, finding a space in one of the rows to settle down.

Thorn follows the procession of uniform-clad personnel inside the chapel. Like Tombs, he has donned dress greys for the event; it's one of the few times he can remember wearing the dress uniform since recieving his commission. Grim faces seem to be the rule here, and Komnenos is no exception. Despite his usual acrimony towards priests and their halls, he's at least respectful enough to put out his cigarette a moment after entering the room. After surveying the group already in attendance, he takes a seat in the back, hunching quietly with his arms folded over his chest.

Kharon's former CAG arrives — or returns, depending on perspective — a little late to the gathering, but by no means disrespectfully so. He too is in his dress greys, the sash pinned with various medals and commendations like a few of the other senior officers' aboard. There's a soft, musical jingling coming from his direction as he moves to find a seat near the front.

Roubani's head turns with a slight flinch as a shoulder touches his, but relaxes right after. Not a word spoken to Persy, but there's a little tension at the corners of his eyes that might've heralded a little smile at any other time. Not right now, though, and he just gives her a slight nod before looking front again.

Hale, looks back behind him before he is moving easily with Sen. Indeed perhaps a little selfish motivation there, however he is here for his own fallen comrades, and for those who have lost more than he has. There's a brief glance given over to Thorn as he enters, before mismatched eyes look back to his wife. A squeeze of Sen's hand and he looks forward for the time being.

Leda sneaks into the back where he takes a seat, he isn't here for the Lords but he is here for those who have been lost. He looks around the room briefly taking stock as to who is where as he sits low in his seat. He doesn't really say anything as much as he is simply trying to blend into the back.

As many enter the Chapel, they would find that the lights have been dimmed. Enough that a bit of shadow pervades with the light, and more so than any normal service. As it is the Altar remains full. Crammed with nicknacks, photographs, notes and little mementos here and there. However the walls, are bare of any iconography or trappings of colonial government. Smoke wafts up from pre lit incense cones adding to the atmosphere and to pull the senses into the sacred and solemnity of the service. A few minutes are allotted for everyone to find their seat, or if they wish, a place to stand. But once all are settled, finally does the small door from the back of the Chapel open, to allow the Chaplain his way out.

Fiver is dressed in his greys as well, with the dark coloured stoll hung around his neck and the even more traditional prayer shall draped on his head, allowing his face freedom. his steps are slow, and measured up to his place in front of the altar, where upon as soon as he gets there arms are extended and raised up. An indication to stand for the congregation. "May we call upon the gods in this our hour of lamentation.." And with that his head bows- a cue for Kore and the Choir.

The choir begins with a soloist: Sergeant Kore. She sings the invocation with a soulful alto, without flourish as befits the occasion. "Om bhur bhuvah svah/Tat savitur varenyam/Bhargo devasya dhimahi/dhiyo yo nah pracodayat…" (Oh Gods! Thou art the Givers of Life/Removers of pain and sorrow/The Bestowers of happiness/Oh! Creators of the Universe/May we receive thy supreme sin-destroying light/May Thou guide our intellect in the right direction). The invocation is repeated a second time with the chorus in full harmony, and during this and the third repeat of the invocation, the entire company in attendance here at the service is welcome to join in, until the solemn silence that comes with its ending.

Persy's nose twitches. She scrubs it with the back of her hand and cranes around in the pew, eyes searching the crowd until she finds Thorn. She looks a bit surprised — blink, head-tilt — then delivers the ECO a fond smile. As Fiver begins, she faces front and gives her attention over to the Brother.

At the indication, it is only appropriate that the Kharon CO rise along with the rest of the room. He does his best not to spend too much time smoothing out his dress greys, instead keeping his hands busy in a fold behind his back. Praxis is the embodiment of solemn, choosing to simply listen to the tones that ring throughout the interior of the chapel while he stands there in the very front row.

Roubani stands up as well, holding out a hand for Prsy if she needs any help getting up from her seat. He whispers something privately under his breath as the choir starts to sing, lifting the wound beads to his mouth for a kiss to the largest one, and his eyes lightly close. Face turned towards the altar, head bowing a fraction as the hymn begins.

Upon seeing, or maybe it's hearing, the former CAG arrive, Thea slides further down on the bench to make way for him. Well, until the call to stand comes. She takes her feet, eyes forward as the music seems to wash over her. And yes, when the signal is given, she lifts her voice to join in. Around her wrist, barely hidden by her sleeve, are prayer beads.

There's not much to do at a time like this then look forward and be respectfully quiet. Sen murmurs he words along with the choir at the end, blessfully not lending her own voice which she's been told sounds like a leaky steam pipe. Her hand stays rooted with Hale's, more in his lap then her own.

Tombs is quiet, even as the Ensign makes his way t the Altar, though make no mistake as soon as the call to rise is given up, the Lieutenant stands as well. Though he does not join in with the singing, he just remains standing. only to move to stand in an at ease posture by the pew to allow more room for others, once the singing has finished.

When Kharon's CO stands, her ex CAG does so as well. The movement isn't so fluid as some, but it's hardly laboured either. He's taken up a spot next to Legacy, and there's perhaps a hand's span between them, though his eyes remain upon the chaplain— and then the choir, as the familiar hymn begins to fill the dimly lit hall.

Sapho slips in only to slip to a place along the back wall to stand, not wanting to interrupt more than she already has. Once comfortable, she bows her head respectfully.

There's a twitch on Hale's face as the call to move is given, though he doesn't rise up. instead he remains by his wife. Fingers clasped with her own, as he murmurs along in the third repetition. His own voice a baritone that's not entirely too pleasing, but then he won't peel paint off the bulkhead either. his own head bowing softly through the hymn.

Kallisto is a bit late to the services, sliding in as silently and respectfully during the invocation. Gently excusing herself to all she would disturb, she slides her way to the front row of the congregation, already spotting who she is going to partake of the services with. Though his hands are folded behind his back, the blonde slides next to him, and slides her hands to his. Gently, she nudges them apart, so she can slide her fingers through his, smiling at him with a bit of a tear in her eye, already. Folks are gone, but there are still plenty of people that need her.

Thorn rises with everyone else as Fiver begins. He blinks as Persy makes eye contact with him, and he just stares for a moment. Finally, though, his stony features soften ever so slightly, and he allows a thin smile to show itself in response to the blonde woman. Then the choir begins to sing; his eyes go front, but his lips remain a tight slash against his face as he keeps silent.

Tiera slips in not long after Sapho, quickly glancing around to see if there's anyone she really knows, singing softly to her self, the words drowned out by the rest of the congregation.

Castor remains in the back, he doesn't sing, he doesn't pray, but he does remain quiet and reverent for those who have gathered. He lowers in his seat slightly as he continues to keep a low profile. This is not a place of comfort for the pilot but he is doing his best to hang in there for his friends who he has lost.

Perhaps it's because documentary journalists have a knack for not drawing attention to themselves that Neha has gone relatively unnoticed, but she's been here all along, filming the event with her hand-held dv camera.

"So Say We All." Fulk gives in that muddy accent of his. A nod is given back then to Kore and the Choir to take their seats. Grey eyes, soon find their gaze sweeping over the assembled as the priest holds for a few seconds. "Gods Be With You." said to indicate the start of the service as it has been done with Priests, and they that have lost millions of years before him, and will continue so after he is gone. A faint smile, almost tired comes upon his face before he clears his throat. "My brothers and my sisters. I wish there was a better day for us all to meet and be here. However, sometimes we are not allotted those bits of sunshine."

Fiver quiets for a moment. "In times like ours it is never easy, to mourn. We find ourselves holding so much in, that we can feel ourselves sinking into sand, into water.. Till we're all covered in muck, and cannot see the day from the night. We are held in darkness. I remind you this day-that darkness is not our lives, and not our purpose. Gods when they created man from darkness.. Water, and sand. They gave us something else. A big spark. Fire- and light from Prometheus. It is that light in life I want us all to look for and remember." coughing carefully there is a look through the audience as he takes a step down. "Before we go further, Let us remember those who have gone on ahead of us..At this juncture I would like to ask Captain Marek, to join me, and speak for the Kharon, much more eloquently, than I could…" and with that he waits.

The choir has since lapsed silent, and remain standing with most of not all aiming their eyes straight forward, if not downcast.

A presence is felt at his side, and Demitros curiously turns his head as to who possibly could A) be standing beside him all of a sudden and B) have the gall to try to separate his hands from the folded position at the small of his back. Neck cranes and jade eyes flit to Kallisto's visage, the familiar feeling settling in, the feeling that dislodges the iron placidity of his features in favor of a more sort of jovial look. A closer look at Arturis' features cause a brow raise, silently asking after her welfare before the Colonel turns back to watch and listen to what Fiver has to say. Praxis never really overtly subscribed to all of this stuff, but the respect is there. A slight squeeze of the hand that holds his.

A spare glance is given over to Sen, as Hale's fingers hold a little tighter in their grasp, as he listens to the Chaplain. Leaning in slightly to the engineer words are whispered over, before attention is back to the service at hand. Though once Kai is called up, the Lieutenant turns his head to try and catch a glimpse of the former CAG.

Roubani does not attempt to sing while the choir's going. When the music stops he opens his eyes again, though his head's kept a very slight tilt downwards so long as he faces the altar of godly statues. His eyes shift to Fiver and stay there during that, then his attention flickers to the statues lined up. Hard to tell which he's looking at, exactly.

Leda raises an eyebrow as he spots someone with a camera and his eyes watch the woman for a moment, though, as Fiver speaks he begins to look and listen, he may night give a frak about the Lords but he figures this is part of the process of honoring those that did love the Lords and so Castor sits up a little bit in his seat.

Sen's eyebrows push up slightly when she hears Marek is going to speak, and like a good little spectator, her head turns and her eyes search the crowd to see if she can pick him out amongst them. Whatever Hale says gets a small solemn smile and she curls against him in lieu of a hug.

Tiera keeps to the back of the room, listening to the proceedings. Turning a bit as the next speaker is named, looking toward the podium.

Though a tear wells in her eye and runs down her cheek, Kallisto manages to smile reassuringly at her brother. She is simultaneously filled with immense grief, and immense relief, even a little happiness. To show that she's ok, she nods a little at Praxis, then motions with her eyes back to the altar. It's not time for him to worry about her, or her about him; it's a time to remember the lives that have been lost, to celebrate those that are still alive. Clearly, to her, this is more than just a matter of respect.

The beauty of zoom lenses and top of the line microphones is that one can get right in the thick of things while standing unobtrusively on the outskirts. So it is that Kavi keeps filming.
It's when Thea looks over to Kai, in preparation for his going to speak, that she catches sight of the filming going on. The Captain's eyes narrow slightly and her lips thin, but she says nothing, merely looks back to Marek.

Thorn stands stock still as Fiver speaks, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He's doing his best to maintain that mask of nonemotion on his face, but it's hard; the grief he'd managed to subliminate all these months, through all those previous memorials he'd skipped, suddenly rushes to the surface, and anyone standing next to him might notice the sudden catch in his breathing. Thorn's mouth tightens even further as emotion wars with the false calm on his features. Fiver gives way to Kai, and Thorn turns his full attention to his former CAG.

Tombs is no good at these things. Were he his CO, things might be different. As it is, he just remains at ease, though a slightly bit uncomfortable. Eyes now leaving the Padre, as he is scanning the other crewmembers here. The recording is not really given much of a second glance. Heck, some folks might wanna remember this, for whatever reason.

The preacher's words moves Sapho but she remains strong with only the tightening of her jaw belaying the emotional onslaught she's fighting. When Captain Marek's called upon to speak she raises a brow while a faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, a soft, supportive gesture meant for the former CAG.

Eloquent is not the word most would use to describe the viper Captain. Coarse, crass and sullen, are more accurate. He draws a steadying breath as he's called up, blue eyes flickering briefly toward the woman seated next to him before he moves to his feet. His bootfalls are sharp on the deck, the sound abrasive in the relative quiet following the choir's haunting hymn. When he reaches the front, he clasps his hands behind his back. Left hand around right wrist. And he clears his throat lightly before speaking, "I, ah.." Tick. Tick. Tick. He chuckles softly. "I'm sorry, as my former, ah, pilots know, I'm no good at these things at all." He scratches at his nose, and tries again. "When I met a certain Ensign by the name of Christopher Helios, I didn't think he'd make it as a viper stick in my wing. He had a habit of tripping over his own two feet when trying to cross a room, and he had the worst case of butterfingers I'd ever seen on a jockey. But, ah. Before the cylons took him out, he'd racked up three kills." There's another pause. "So I guess the lesson in all that was, Captains can sometimes be wrong." He doesn't even attempt a smile there. "Lieutenant Indigo Mars. Ensign Coco Batista. Lieutenant Kelly Perkins. Ensign Kassia Nevice. I've always said there aren't good people, and there aren't bad people. Just people, doing the best they can. Kal'hu subhanaka la'ailma lana illa ma a'allam'tanaka anta al'alemu Charon alhakeem." He lifts his hand to Fiver, dangling about five or six sets of dogtags from his fingers; they rustle with a soft sussuration of music all their own. "F'ata lakua adamu min rabi'hikalam fataba a'alayhi inahu huwa attawa bura'heem." The words are in an odd dialect of Kashmiri, for those in the know, offering a prayer to the dead.

As Kai calls out the names of the dead Leda lowers his head as if to honor the dead. His eyes close not in prayer but in rememberance as memories of each person run through his head and the twitching emotions can each be seen on his face.

If Roubani's feeling particular emotion at this, his heart's not on his sleeve. No tears, no hitched breaths, teeth together behind closed lips, tensed shoulders. He watches the statues in front of him during most of Kai's speech, dark eyes finally flickering to the man's face when the Kashmiri starts. There they stay a while, level until the prayer ends, then turn down to the bench in front of him. His lips move with some short, ritualistic response to the prayer call, but there's no sound.

Kore murmurs the response to the call of the prayer, as do most of the choir, but they otherwise remain quiet and inobtrusive.

Persy's eyes brim as Marek speaks. Her shoulders are square, her spine at perfect attention in honor of both the speaking Captain and the departed. She presses her lips together, finally lowering her lashes as Marek concludes in prayer; her eyelids break the fragile meniscus of her tears, and they trace down to her chin.

Sapho flinches visibly when a certain name is called, her body tightening along her shoulders suddenly which causes her to look almost as if she was somehow startled, her eyes squeezing tightly closed. It's a posture that she maintains for quite a while, relaxing impossible for her now.

As much as Praxis would have liked to pursue that matter currently running down the length of Kallisto's cheek, what she had said in just a simple motioning of her glistening eyes was all admittedly true. He inclines his head, jade pools subsequently scrolling back as Marek moves up to the front and begins to say words. There's a quick little raise of the brow while he starts to speak, which levels back out once the Captain gets into the groove of things. A slight smirk arises on his features at the first story, but that quickly disappears as distinct memories pop into his head: the voices of these people as they get fried in their cockpits one by one. What they must have thought and felt in those last moments before they were reduced to debris. Expression returns to void.

Oh, here it comes. Here's the part that always gets Sen. When the Captain starts lifting off the names, so many others make it to the list in the Kharon's ChEng's mind. All those others that have been lost since they've started keeping time in such a morbid way: days Post Holocaust. Teeth sink into her bottom lip, and Sen bows her head to obscure her face in shadows, but there's definitely a sniffle there, and a tightening of her fingers in her husband's, who those loses hit closer to home no doubt.
Tiera Stands quietly as the list of names are read off, most are only names to her or perhaps callsigns heard on the Comm's. She has her own that she adds silently to that list, her head bowed in respect.

Thea keeps her eyes on Kai, as if by willing him to remain strong, she can do the same for herself and keep the tears from falling. The recording is, for now, forgotten.

The tags seen there's a look back over to the Captain, and it seems that the Ensign is speechless for a moment. Carefully one hand reaches out to catch the Captain's arm, as he clasps. A sign of support, before fingers gingerly reach and take over the the tags. The names on which treated like the souls the represent. All laid carefully and quietly on the altar, before the Chaplain is turning back towards Kai, reaches into his own uniform and pulls out five tags of his own. "On the Hestia, we had nugget. A bright young man named Lewis Grady. Or as members of th' wing would know him, as Gravy. He was quick with a joke, or a grin, and nothing could phase him in the slightest. He was a dear friend, and once- after Warday almost burned down the chapel after knocking over a few candles.." A slight smile there before he is shaking his head. "He gave is life, covering our back when we needed to fly with the speed of Hermes. A mission gone wrong. Something we all know and ,we all understand. The others: Private James Cannes, Sergeant Rueben "Skippy" Wilkens, Lieutenant Junior Grade Emmitt White, and Ensign Milla Conal. Your names, will never be forgotten." And with that he allows for the Captain to place the tags as he did. "Iso elilodwa lixotshwa libhekile…Akulanga lashona lingendaba." in the Kalminos, a prayer for the dead, to join the other's words. Perhaps a sign of unity-family in the darkest of nights.

With that done, the Chaplain turns back towards the congregation "Please Rise. And pray with me" Hands up as eyes close and head tilts to the roof. From the Priest's throat a low drone begins. A simple note, before his voice comes out, unwavering: "Oh' wrap me in my Colony's flag, And lay me in the cold, blue sea. Let the roaring of the waves,My solemn requiem be And I shall sleep a pleasant sleep,While storms above their vigils keep.." The song, the Naval hymn given out strong in the Chaplain's own notes. And there if one paid enough attention they might catch tears rolling down the man's cheeks as the ancient hymn is given over in the standard tongue. "Farewell my friends, for many I leave. We've sailed together on the deep. Come, let us shake our hands-I'll sail no more but ship mains work for me,I'm bound above, my course is run…I near the port, my voyage is done." The song finished he lowers his hands down- a moment of silent prayer called forth without order or word.

Hearing the name of pilots sends a very visible shiver down Kallisto's spine. She's all too aware of the fact that any of them could've been here, can still be her any time she climbs into that cockpit. As the Captain speaks of people doing their best, she gives her brother's hand a firmer squeeze; that's all she can do anymore herself, even if that risk stays in the back of fer mind, HAS to stare there. Though she doesn't exactly know the translation of the Captain's or Chaplain's words, they convey meaning just the same. As the prayer is issued, Kallisto moves her lips, but is silent; something seems to be caught in her throat, choking her up a bit, as the familiar pain of loss returns for the first time in a long time.

Leda's emotions are starting to draw in as this is difficult for him and so he opens his eyes and he sits up as the emotion drains out of him so that he can watch Kai and then his eyes move over to the prayer as it begins. He remains as quiet as the grave as he listens for other people to sing.

Roubani is still not singing, though anyone who's heard him sing would likely call that a favour to all present. He watches Fiver through the whole listing of Hestia names and the handover of tags, a slight nod behind the only movement he really makes.

The choir strikes up the song when the Padre does, breaking into harmony at certain spots and otherwise singing in unison. "Farewell, my friends, for many I leave…my voyage is done."

Tombs returns to a state of attention when the Priest calls for it. Though, still no emotion seems to be showed by the marine. Instead his arm goes up, after all, all arms were asked to be presented. A faint twitch under his eye, and S2, allows eyes to go downcast-perhaps his own moment of reflection and prayer for the fallen.

Icy blue-grey orbs keep staring forwards; unlike some, Thorn manages to restrain his emotions, but it's taking a noticable exertion of the man's will to keep that semi-calm expression on his face as Kai speaks of the Kharon's dead. Like Praxis, he can remember the moment of death for many of them; for Thorn's part, his mind keeps returning to an image of green Colonial signatures disappearing from DRADIS. Again, Thorn refrains from singing, though he actually lowers his head and mutters something that sounds almost like an old Mierce prayer as Fiver lowers his hands.

His own prayer offered, Kai lowers his eyes from the chaplain's, and drapes the tags of his fallen crew atop the altar with a few soft clinks of metal scraping stone. "A'afiat," may be heard quietly murmured from the Captain. As his arm is clasped, he takes Fiver's in return, in a mirrored fashion. A deferential bow of his head is given before he returns unobtrusively to his spot next to Legacy, and resumes standing at attention.

Hale smiles at whatever Sen has said, previous to Kai's words. But, still old names and memories are hard to forget. A free hand moves up to rub the side of his right eye, reaching across his face. A look is spared back to the Engineer, before he's lowering his head, keep itout of sight from others. Give him a moment, an he'll be fine.

Persy does sing, though it's likely only discernible to those nearest her. Her voice quavers and aches with grief, so… well. Tuneful it's not. But she tries, through quietly hitching breaths, to give her fallen commrades every note of tribute.

Thea stands at attention, as is appropriate, her chin out and eyes forward. She sings as well. Perhaps she shouldn't, but she does it anyway. The grief doesn't show on her face, doesn't show in her features at all - just in the set of her shoulders.

Roubani turns eyes back to the statues and there his attention stays. There's nothing on his face besides some barely discernible tension at his jaw, which he notices and rids himself of by moving it.

Sen wraps her arm around Hale's lower back, hugging him close and palm smoothing out in a soothing gesture as the song is taken up by the congregation. This time, she nudges him that she'll stand for this portion, and so she slips to her feet respectfully.

Castor is standing out of respect for the dead, as his face remains impassive and emotionless, sometimes it is better to grieve in private or taking out grief on the heavy bag which is probably where the pilot will be after all of this.

No movement, no effort to take part in the prayer, but with the level of concentration Lt. Colonel Demitros is exhibiting, it might as well be that he's doing so anyway. He remains a symbol of strength during difficulty no matter what might be going through his mind internally. He doesn't look at his sister anymore, he doesn't appear to concern himself with what is going in within her, but instead remains a strong hand to hold.

Tiera murmurs almost to herself as she looks to the front "Rest in Peace my brothers and sisters, carry on, we have the watch from here"

There's sniffles aplenty tonight it seems. Still the Chaplain, once it is done, makes no excuses for it. One hand coming up to rub at an eye as a soft, sad-sick chuckle escapes. "gods, it feels good, to let our walls down, sometimes." Only indication that the time of prayer is over. "Look at us. Weeping, some of us holding it in by strings. I tell you It's good to let it out, or to tell the gods to go and frak themselves. I've done it, in my most low of times." And with that he's clearing his throat. "But, As surely the sun comes back up in the morning-so does light re enter our lives." Fiver begins, "our friend who we have lost are at peace now- we can take comfort in that, but if they saw us here, they might shake their heads and say Brue: Why so down in the face? I am only across th' shore why you take your sweet arse time. Don' hurry on my account-Though Elysium is grand- life is still grand on it's own. Take that life which we sacrificed ourselves for an bloody live it."

Fiver pauses for a moment as he watches the congregation once more. "Find that joy in your heart, because death is just another mission, patrol, CAP. It's nothin spectacular. Just something in th' natural rotation of life an' duties." Make no mistake the Chaplain is not trying to trivialize death. "Like I said, th' lords gave us a big spark- fire. Fire that shows in our hearts, and burns in our souls. Who are we t' put blinders on the gift that th' gods gave us. To do our comrades right, we should celebrate the life they've shared with us, and think this jus' a partin. We'll see each other in the end, an have a laugh an a good hug. But now, leave in the fire. For if we get caught in the darkness-then there is no hope. No life, and no reason why we shouldn't turn this ship towards th' closest basestar and jus' give up." A sigh there. "I don' know about you-But I am not ready for m' fire to burn out jus' yet. Wouldn't do right for my friend, Gravy, or for any of the other names. So I charge you tonight- go out an pour oil on that fire. Live it up, love, laugh an cry-Hades, Drink an frak.. Be Human in all of our triumph an failings. Show th' gods we are happy wit our gift-more importantly. Show our friends, that we thank them and honor them for what they have done. " A pause there. "I will remain here if any need a word. But go now-with the gods light in your heart. Go with peace, and go with the gods. So Say We All." And with hands clasped at his front, Fiver, is finished.

"So say we all." murmurs the choir in unison, and all shift to attention until their ordered dismissal.

Thea's response of "So say we all," follows the Chaplain's, and she allows a moment after Fiver finishes speaking before she lifts her voice, transitioning seamlessly. "In honor of that spark, and our friends who have gone before," she says, stepping away from her bench to turn toward the assembled. "I invite you all to celebrate and to celebrate the lives of those who have crossed before us, those who now help guide our paths. The lounge has been prepared for what some might term an old-fashioned wake, one which will go until the wee small hours of the morning." She looks to Praxis, as the ranking officer in the room..

Persy grins through her tears at the Chaplain's conclusion, uttering a choked laugh at his exortation to celebrate life. She nods. "So say we all."

Laugh, cry, drink, frak. Roubani's expression doesn't change through that advice. As to how well he's taking the rest well and truly to heart who knows; his eyes are on Fiver but he doesn't nod or smile. At the very end he simply murmurs, "So say we all." Looking down then, he winds his prayer beads back around his wrist.

Being that she is still filming, Neha does not voice the words, although she solemnly mouths them.

"So say we all," Sapho whispers, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek, using her healing hand to do so. Fiver's looked at and then the altar is, the latter stared at as she mouths something herself, a prayer or a 'spoken' song, most likely.

The nudge is noted, and Hale stands with is wife, and remains so during the Chaplain's words. There's a faint smile that comes with some of the Padre's thoughts, which causes the pilot to give a look over to the missus. "So Say We All." said as he turns to look towards Legacy. Brow up, and a nod there. A wake. Well best way t' fuel a fire is t' pour something on it, right? Alcohol sounds a might bit tastier than oil.

Kai does not cry, though he does join in on the choir's singing; his mouth moves along with the words, which he clearly knows, though his voice itself is low and barely heard. When it's finished, and the chaplain gives his final words, the Captain's eyes shift to the altar— and there they remain throughout. Maybe the bastard simply isn't touched by all of this. Maybe those people meant nothing to him. Or maybe, like his countryman a few benches down, he just doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve. As the chorus of 'so say we alls' goes up, he adds his own piece in kind, and flicks his eyes to Legacy as she speaks.

With the end of the ceremony, Komnenos is able to finally restore that expression of perfect stony calm to his face. "So say we all," he murmurs. No tears for him to wipe away, thankfully.

When Fiver mentions telling the gods to go frak themselves Leda's eyes light up for a moment, fire seen in them, he looks up at the ceiling as a furative look comes across his face though after a time the negative emotion falls away as an confused look enters on his face since he has never been told that he could tell the gods to frak themselves…not that he ever asked for permission. He remains silent since he doesn't want to acknowledge the prayer but he does lower his head in reverence for the dead.

Salazar stands in the back of the chapel, leaned against the bulkhead. She missed most of the ceremony, though it's doubtful many, if anyone, noticed her sliding in the back. She stands, arms crossed, eyes downcast. Her expression isn't particularly telling, but her eyes are dry. (Probably because she's missed this entire thing. Probably.) She doesn't speak with the 'so say we alls', but she does glance toward the altar at the bit about drinking and frakking. The ghost of a smile curves her lips.

Tombs lowers his hand slightly. A grunt at Fiver's advice. "Lovely, our priest curses in the chapel.." murmured more or less to himself. A glance is given though when Legacy-one of them Kharon pilots mentions a wake. There's a faint cough, before the Lieutenant's voice comes out. "Don't get too wasted. Our drunk tank ain't the best place to be." Humor or not the S2 runs a tight..err tightish ship. However for one night, won't hurt to go easy on em, just a little. With that being said, he's moving to try an slip out a little before. If anything to go have a smoke.

With the choir dismissed, the officers and enlisted involve scatter. Kore roams the area quietly. She's not acquainted with many of the Kharon crew, and so though the setting is familiar, the sea of faces isn't entirely.

Persy leans on Roubani once more, just for a moment — it seems to be a fond gesture, in lieu of the hug her cane makes unwieldy. She sidle-limps out of the pew and towards the front, offering Fiver a wet, red-eyed smile. "Thank you," she says softly, stretching up on tiptoes-and-cane to kiss the Chaplain's cheek. "Best. Memorial. Ever."

By the time the Chaplain finishes the sermon, Kallisto has decided that maybe she doesn't want to be seen crying. Standing hand-in-hand with her brother, the woman has hung her head, letting hair fall over her face to hide her tears. Though what the Chaplain says is true, every single word of it, she can't help but think that the lives she took responsibility for, the three lives that relied on her for protection and care, their fires weren't yet big enough. There were barely sparks, not yet in the prime of their life. When the crew offers back the so says to the Chaplain, Kallisto gives hers as well, though whispered, and after the fact.

Thorn seems to have the same thing on his mind as Tombs as he does the familiar patdown. He ambles stiffly towards the hatch after a brief look around the room. He recognizes the familiar form of Salazar leaning quietly at the back of the chapel; the Kharon's marine CO gets a nod as a cigarette appears on Anton's lips. It stays unlit, though, as long as he's in the chapel… which won't be much longer, though, as his steps carry him closer to the exit.

When entering a chapel, Barnabas can be pretty stealthy. The wall was hugged, the footsteps were soft and his face was solemn right until the moment the 'wake' was mentioned. From that moment forth, it's as if someone switched the dial on Barney's back from 'Oh shit I'm late' solemnity to 'Booze?!' skittering-out-of-the-door. His taking advantage of being last in and first out is only about ten percent of the reason for his lopsided chesire grin. There may have been arm flailing if this wasn't a chapel.

Sen presses down the front of her uniform, as if sitting for that long period of time has mussed it up some how. After everyone has said their 'so say we all's' and people begin to mill abit more now that the formality of the evening is over, Sen turns towards her husband and envelops him in a lose embrace to murmur something in his ear.

Roubani steps back against the bench so Persy can shuffle out. She gets a little nod as she goes, and he steps out of the bench row himself afterwards. Like a few of the others, he starts for the exit without another word.

Fiver is caught offguard, and easily so. After all, not many people come up to thank him with kisses on the cheek, after funerals. There's a blink and a smile offered back towards Persy, before his arms move to carefully hug ECM officer. "Y'your welkomm." given in that muddy accent. "I am glad I could do what I could, for your friends. And mine." As for that hug? It is sure to be a good one- he is quite the hugger.

Tiera does her best to become a wall flower, mostly watching the others as they mingle. Her eyes are dry, perhaps she hides her emotions well. She catches sight of Neha and slowly works her way toward her colleague.

Castor is making his way out of the Chapel, respects paid to the dead - time to get the hellonupouttaheyah as he tries to make his way out without being seen as he attempts to blend into a group of greys heading toward the door.

Kore makes her way closer to Fiver, but doesn't interfere with where his current attention has fallen. She just offers him a smile from the brief distance and a casual salute - glad she could help.

Hale turns to his wife, and there's a faint smile, given as arms move to take up his spouse in that reciprocated, loose embrace. Whatever she said, has him chuckle softly, before replying back softly. Also for good measure he adds in a chaste kiss to the cheek.

While people begin to drift once the ceremony's concluded Sapho does as well but instead of making her way out of the chapel she starts to make her way to the front of the room, carefully limping around people as she approaches the altar. A seat is claimed once enough space to do so is available, her head bowing once again as she listens to the voices flow about her.

Sal nods to Thorn, and her eyes follow his cigarette as it's presented. She smiles slightly more, then straightens off of the wall, arms remaining crossed. She steps back a bit from the hatch, to be sure it's completely clear for the procession of people exiting.

Throughout the speech, Praxis' usual eyebrow acrobatics take place. It seems to take a while, but the service is then concluded, which elicits a deep breath and an exhale before the Colonel turns around and looks up at Legacy at the mention of the wake. A sidelong glance is cast to Kallisto, who isn't looking too hot at the moment. Teeth grind together for but a moment, before his hand leaves the hand of his sister to press his palm against her upper back in a pat before he mentions to her, "I'm going to head to the wake. I think you should come," the CO suggests to Arturis before turning around, meeting gaze with Thea. Since it appears she requires his word to proceed, there's a brief nod from him. He's just a guest on this ship, but if people need the word, he'll give the word. "All right, let's clear out," he mentions in a louder sort of voice. "Obviously those who wish to remain, can."


The song sung by Fiver: A Dying Sailor To His Shipmates by U2

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