Narrator:The mission is complete, and while it was not an unmitigated success, the primary objective was accomplished. Everyone got paid. Everyone except hob.
Reverend:We're gathered here to say goodbye to a good friend. The best kind of friend, for 'greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends.'
Nick:Whoa, that's a great line, that is.
Der Trihs:No kidding. I wonder where the Rev gets his material...
Reverend:(thinking) Yup. The old-school stuff is still the best stuff.
Kevyn:I still don't understand why we didn't find any remains. There must have been some accelerants in that mix. Straight anfo won't vaporize carbonan.
Narrator:There were no accelerants, bonus oxidizers, or ancient alien whatsits in the mix. The blast did not vaporize hob at all. It threw him.Don't get your hopes up, though. The blast threw him a bit harder than what his suit's inertiics could compensate for.There's another funeral going on. This one has an actual corpse.
Frapp:Goodbye, friend. We're secretly planting you under these trees you helped us get back.
Frapp:You gave your life to save ours, and now with every eye this tree bears, one of us will see more clearly the treasure of your memory.
One-eye Amorph:Are we sure this is how human funerals are supposed to go?
Three-eyed amorph:Oh, yeah. Very sappy. Over the top, even.
One-eye Amorph:I still think we should have done it our way.
Three-eyed amorph:You're just hungry.
Narrator:At amorph wakes the receiving line and the buffet line are the same thing. And that's probably too much information.
Footnote:Epilogue: The blast that threw Corporal Hank "Hob" Obscromble through a wall and on a subsequent ballistic trajectory over three kilometers in length had one other effect. The hydraulic (for lack of a better term) shaft that channeled the blast was part of a pumping station (for lack of a better term) originally powered by microwaves beamed down from an enormous (that's actually a pretty good term) pre-annihilation-era powerplant on Ghanj-Rho's natural satellite. The blast drove the machinery backwards for an instant, which had an understandably immeasurable effect on the tide-line of the artificial island it was built to keep afloat, since said island sank and was subsequently subducted with undersea crust movements some ten million (or so) years earlier. The thrust of the giant pistons did, however, send a tiny pulse of microwaves back to the well-preserved powerplant. For a few minutes the lights inside burned brightly again, claiming for Hob what would have been third place for the "longest-ranged accidental death-lamp funeral service," had anyone from Frub-Xhin's Record-Setting Galactic Trivia actually been watching.