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Title: In Memoriam

Written By: Buckwheat

Email: i_treuer@hotmail.com

Rating: PG

Spoilers: A long time into the future lets say.

Summary: Friends and family have gathered for a Funeral.

Copyright Notice: The Jim Henson Company, Hallmark Entertainment, Nine Network Australia and the Sci-Fi Channel own Farscape. They own all rights to characters mentioned within this story. I made some or most up, but if they want to have them too, who am I to complain.

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They arrived by one's and two's. All of them not believing why they were there, it was not possible. He had cheated death so many times, that they thought he was invincible, immortal, that he was beyond death. He was beginning to believe it himself, until the illness came. His dislike of doctors had never diminished over the cycles. It was with great prodding and fighting that his mate had him see the local "Witch Doctor" as he called him. By then it was too late for him, the illness had taken its toll. All they could do was make him comfortable and ease the pain.

It was nearly a quarter of a cycle later that he finally was at peace. A lifetime spent in many places, doing many things, making many friends and enemies as well. It was uncertain if representatives of the latter would attend the ceremony, but it was sure that his friends would be out in force, to honour a man that been a main part of their life for many cycles. He was at times their leader, their savoir but always their friend. They all took his death hard.

His mate was taking it in stride; she had never left his side during the illness. She watched him go from the strong independent man that she fell in love with, to a weaken man who she had to feed at the end. She had support, she had their family and friends, but only those truly close to her could really understand her loss. Those who had shared the early days when he first came to this place, before the war, before the formation of the alliance. All that was legendary, as was this man, one that many endeavoured to be like.

The funeral was where he wanted, in space, aboard the ship that was their home for so many cycles. The only place they truly felt safe and at home. The main cargo bay was where this hero was to lie in state, those who came able to say a few parting words, to the man some loved, some hated, but all admired. They were grim and solemn as they filed passed the coffin. Many reduced to tears as the said their goodbyes. It was not surprising that even the most feared warriors had shed tears at the news of his death. They came by the hundreds to honour this man.

The funeral for the select few that had known him the best was to be elsewhere, a more private spot, and his favourite spot on the ship. They gathered on the terrace, their numbers few. He wanted it that way; he was not one for speeches, for pomp and ceremony. He always said he was a simple man and that it only took simple pleasures to make him happy. His mate, his family and his friends were what mattered. There were kind words spoken of him. All spoke of his love and devotion to his mate and his family and friends. How he was always there for them whether they thought they need it or not. After everyone had spoken his body was committed to the stars that he loved so much.

It was the first time that she cried. She had not cried at his death, she said she had before. Only a few knew what she meant, most thought she just cried on her own terms. It would not be the last time she cried. It was the second time she lost the man she loved. She would often cry herself to sleep. I knew she was strong, she taught me to be strong. He had taught us all how to feel, how to live life to the fullest. She kept the strong fašade during the day, but at night she was lost with out him. She would survive; it would take time as he always said she did. Her world crumbled a little the day he died; we would be there to help her rebuild it. The healing stared the day we returned John Crichton to the stars from where he came. The day we buried my father.

 

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