Disclaimer: Paramount owns Voyager and Janeway.

Funeral Dirge for Edward Witt

I look up from my weeding when I heard a hovercraft's whir. It is an unusual noise, not often heard way out in the country where I live. Extensive gardens and a bit of poetry writing provide all I need here; I haven't even seen a hovercraft in ages.

A slight woman with a Starfleet uniform on exits the 'craft. What business would Starfleet have with me? I've already received official condolences for Eddie's death. There's nothing left to say, really. My last living relative died on some planet farther away than I can fathom. That pretty much sums it up.

Until I realize that the woman approaching is none other than Captain Kathryn Janeway. I may live an isolated lifestyle, but I still watch the news nightly. Sometimes I don't know why, but it's a habit I continue.

"Paula Witt?" she asks.

"Yes." I wipe the dirt from my hands on my jeans.

"I'm Kathryn Janeway. I've come to talk to you about your brother."

"Starfleet has already told me. One of your commanders."

"Yes, but they tend to be impersonal."

"Well, it's not everyday a galactic hero comes around here. Come in." I wonder if I sound as bitter to her as I do to myself.

"They tell me he died on a planet."

"Yes." The woman in front of me shifts uncomfortably.

"Have a seat," I say, remembering that despite my own feelings, she's come out here to tell me about Eddie. I should at least listen to what she has to say.

"It was ten months ago on a planet called Trw'so. Eddie was one of two security personnel; a routine precaution on an unknown planet. The Trw'sonians were very friendly. My Chief Engineer, B'Elanna Torres, was talking with their Minister of Exchange about trading for supplies. By all accounts it seemed like a successful first contact."

Despite my intent to remain detached, I voice a question. "What went wrong?" At the same time, I wonder if she always refers to dead crewmembers by their first names, or only when talking to their families. Somehow she strikes me as one of the captains who know the first name of everyone on their crew.

"There were rebels, a xenophobic faction. Eddie saw someone taking aim at the Minister of Exchange, and he pushed him aside. The blast killed him."

"You mean my brother died protecting someone who wasn't a crew member?" They hadn't mentioned that.

"He died protecting the Trw'sonian Minister."

"I suppose you're going to tell me about how he helped build a great relationship with these guys."

"That would be hollow comfort."

"Very hollow."

"It didn't make me feel better, either. I want to tell you about his funeral." Well, I'm surprised by that.

"His funeral?"

"They wanted to bury him on Trw'so, even though no other species had ever been buried there before. Their funeral rites are considered intensely private."

"So my brother's buried on this alien planet?"

"It was that or a burial in space, Ms. Witt. They wanted to honor his sacrifice. At Trw'sonian funerals they sing. It's a deep and mournful dirge that moves everyone to tears. My Chief of Security, and your brother's immediate commander, was Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. You know that Vulcans are extremely reserved about admitting any emotion, but Tuvok told me that "The Trw'sonian dirge illicits an intense reaction." From him, that's quite an admission.

"We weren't allowed to bring recording devices, or I would've recorded it for you. They had such deep, powerful voices that you felt their sorrow reverberate in your soul. The Trw'sonians gave him a moving funeral." I want to ask why they went back to the planet, went back as if nobody learned anything from Eddie's death, but the question sticks in my throat. These Trw'sonian people really honored Eddie.

"Your brother was a fine officer, Ms. Witt. He was also well-liked among the crew, and I'm told that he was the person to beat in Monopoly, though I never played him myself. Most people complained about Neelix's cooking twice as much as he did. We all miss him."

"How do you deal with the responsibility?" I ask.

"You mean how do I deal with having deaths on my conscience?"

"That's not what I meant," I protest, even though it really is.

She holds up a hand. "It's a perfectly reasonable question. The first time someone died under my command I was a lieutenant, in charge of an away mission. I couldn't sleep for days. My captain told me that it would get easier over time, but it never has. Every time someone died under my command, I would lose a little bit of myself. It never got easier, Ms. Witt. Your brother's death weighs on my mind, as does the death of everyone I lost on Voyager."

Kathryn Janeway is far more human than I imagined. No wonder her crew loved her so much. In the few letters I got from Eddie, he had nothing but good things to say about her.

"The Minister of Exchange gave me this. He said, "For Ensign Witt's family." I came to give it to you." She holds out a small brown box.

"What is it?"

"I don't know. We scanned it to make sure that it's not dangerous, but it's not mine, so I didn't open it."

Tentatively, I lift the lid. Inside sits a smaller brown box, with a purple oval in the center. Holding my breath, I press the oval.

Ohhhh-traaaawwww-skkkooooohhhh. Centra liv'jai lobre domaq so. Ohhhh-traaaawwww-skkkooooohhhh. The alien nature is obvious, and a deep sorrow seems to fill the air. I hit the purple button, and it stops.

A tear escapes down Janeway's cheek. "He taped it."

"I thought that was forbidden."

"That's it, Ms. Witt. That's the song they sung at Eddie's funeral."

I hit it again. Socha ni'wef Edddward Wiiiitt, gorlost'ikan. Lobre gor, Ohhhh-traaaawwww-skkkooooohhhh. Unless I want to fall apart in front of Kathryn Janeway, I can't listen to any more of this now.

"Thank you, Captain."

"I wish he were here. Nothing I can tell you or give you will bring him back. Just remember that you're not alone is missing him."

"I won't forget, Captain. Do you want some iced tea or water?"

"No thank you. I imagine you'll want to listen to that." She rises and walks the short distance to the door. "Headquarters told me that you chose to have Eddie's personal affects shipped to you. If you'd like anything else, or just to talk, contact my office." An office? Since when to captains have offices? Did they promote her? Oh, well, it's not really important. The brown box dominates my mind.

"I will." Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but the offer is touching. Kathryn Janeway clearly cared a great deal for her crew. "Thank you," I say again.

"You're welcome." Then she gets back into her hovercraft and it lifts off.

Riykas sor qwa sinta owt. Ohhhh-traaaawwww-skkkooooohhhh.

They did honor Eddie. The funeral dirge is moving even in an illicit recording. I can't imagine how powerful it would be in person.

I'll treasure it forever.