Bankor

The body was wrapped in white canvas. Craw had carried it from the coffin in the ship, and it felt like the heaviest thing. Like the earth was sucking it down to itself, like the grave was hungering for the body. The armor had been stripped off it and was lying neatly back in the coffin.

Craw laid it down on top of the pyre, wet with lighting fluid. Odd. He thought the weight would lessen when he wasn't holding the body anymore. He stood aside and looked at the friends, family and comrades that had arrived. He felt like there should have been words. A speech or something. Something about her. But he found he was empty. There was a gaping wound inside his mind where all those things had poured into. There were no words for the pain, in it's hunger, had swallowed them.

Craw realized just how dusty his shoes had been and then raised his eyes. He gazed at the body, the white canvas it was wrapped in and tried to not imagine her her beneath it. His gaze lingered and then he picked up the torch that laid beside him on the ground, and lit it. The flame that danced on it was small, but it still felt like the most dangerous thing to Craw. He took a step forward, and then another. He felt like a shuffling moron, the way he walked.

The torch touched the edge of the pyre, infecting it with flame. Craw stepped back, looking as the bright flames began licking the body, leaving black marks on the white canvas where they went. He sighed as the flames filled his vision.

"Well. It's done. She's gone now." He said, his voice was weak and raw as he watched the flames slowly do their work.

"Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." Oddyn immediately corrected Craw in strong voice, invoking the belief held from the times of Mand'alore the Indomitable. Not gone, merely marching far away. "May we all join her in Manda."

The one-armed man had left the hospital to attend, the loose left sleeve of his polished beskar'gam dangling at his side. Red. Orange. Blue. Gold.

"Vode an." He declared, giving someone a few seconds to intone before he would.

Craw nodded, pained. Gone from me... Craw thought to himself, perhaps bitterly.

"Vode an."

He stood there in silence as witnessed Craw do everything himself for the pyre. Having to take care of ones loved ones helped with the healing process...and having Craw dealing with so much so quickly would be rough on anyone. Especially for a recovering alcoholic.

He approached the pyre, closing the gap between them and placed his hand on his shoulder in a comforting motion. "You did good, Craw. You did good." Chiss did not express their emotions, not from their inability to do so, but because it often clouded ones judgement, preventing them from doing what needed to be done. This was not the time to wear the mask, however. It was time to be for his crewmate.

"I'll be sure to inform her family on Csilla of her passing, so don't worry about that. I would not have them spend endless time wondering of her fate, and have you be the one to communicate it while in mourning." Hopefully that would bring him comfort to not have to make that conversation.

He stared onto the pyre, glancing on the flaming corpse. His eyes growing less bright as the flames consumed the oxygen nearby ever so slightly, staring at such a wasted Chiss cut down in her prime. Not to mention her presence, for a slight moment, brought him a sense of being home once more.

Heartbreak was lost on Oddyn. He was seeing away a Mandalorian first, whatever other dedications she had had in life. Seeing that Craw was reluctant to follow the rites of the Mando'ade and thus was straying from Resol'nare, Oddyn saved the day and intoned in his booming voice.

"Kote!
Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an.
Mand'alore a'den mhi, Vode an.
Bal kote, darasuum kote,
Jorso'ran kando a tome.
Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, Vode an.
Kandosii sa ka'rta, Vode an.
Mand'alore a'den mhi, Vode an."

Craw was silent as Oddyn recited the rites. When he was done Craw looked to Nudie. Behind his eyes there was pain.

"I... I think I'm done for Nudie." He said, his voice was hoarse.

Chiss funerals were never this much production. It was always a test of ones ability to maintain their emotions during turbilent times. To see them go and yet remain calm and collective of the loss of a loved one. It showed true courage to remain so in public. To keep it quelled within you, always.

The one armed man's nonsense was spouted, hoping and praying that her spirit return to somewhere...he only understood the Mandalorian language in tidbits. It was as coarse as their philosphies.

"You are not done, Craw. Far from it, I would say." He nods slowly, staring into the fire instead of his face, keeping his hand on his shoulder. "We have the matter of her killer we must attend to still."

Craw closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I just... I can feel the ground beneath me... Slipping and I know I'm gonna fall into something dark and forever and I can't stop it... I'm gonna fall and I'm gonna scream and scream and scream and there'll be nothing there to answer me except the echoes and and..." He went silent suddenly. Crushing his hands into fists, he was shaking. He didn't even notice. Craw opened his eyes, they were reddened but no tears had come out just yet. He looked to Nudie again.

"I know his name... The man who killed her." His voice was steady, the shaking had stopped.

He understood that feeling all too well of what he spoke of.

"Good." He nods again, still not facing him. "That's a start. We need to be smart about it, not rushing in blindly like fools. The Chiss treat death differently, Craw. We mourn in silence, keeping ourselves composed thru the process. Then, we learn from their death, as well as remind ourselves that death will come to us all, eventually." He pauses, then turns to him, his red eyes staring at him calmly. "I would ask, when you are able to think clearly, what did you learn from her death?"

Craw looked down at his boots and was silent, before looking back up.

"No sneaking Nudie. I want to meet him face to face... And then hit that face until there's nothing left but bone fragments and viscera." He paused. "We'll talk about this later. This is no place or time for it."

He turns his head to the pyre as he finished his statement, not saying a word to his response but choosing to remain quiet instead. He had missed the lesson of her death, but her killer's life was not his to take.

Despite his better judgement.

"I wish I could say something that would make this event easier to deal with, Craw. I truly do." It was about as emotional of a statement he would muster for him.

Craw looked at the pyre.

"So do I, Nudie."

Durasay had been there. Quiet. Observing from a respectful distance behind Craw, and Nudimsu. He hadn't gotten to know Nai'tiri all that well. But her being around was good. Especially for Craw.

Durasay listened as Oddyn performed the ceremony, understanding the words. He nodded at the conclusion.

Once the body got burnt, Oddyn walked away. She was in a better place than him now.

/exit