Captain Archer stood at the makeshift podium, vibrant emotions pulling at his face. His stance was slumped, and a day's growth of bread decorated his face.
He opened his mouth to speak. A strained, pained voice escaped, not the confident tone he usually had.
He stopped for a moment, to regain his composure. He looked out at the people standing before him, every face. He saw the tears and pain of his crew, the sadness etching lines running deep into their souls. He felt for them, more than he allowed himself to realize.
His eyes met the two forms standing in the very front. Most of all, he felt for them. The woman cried silently, the tears running down her face unwiped, symbols of the immense pain she bore.
The other figure, much smaller than the first, stood in front of her. The child's face also bore pain, but not in the form of tears. He was too young to realize the full implications of what was happening around him.
Captain Archer cleared his throat. He was ready.
His voice echoed in the silent chamber. His words bounced off the cold, unfeeling walls and were ultimately absorbed by the group of people.
"We are here today to honor the life of our crewmate, friend, father and husband, Commander Charles Tucker III...."