Read BALADA: The Sight Of You Recalls The Grief's That Locked Within man’s Bosom Bide; Page 13

Have one last drink me harties.

  Have one last one before we go.

  For its light years and light years to the next port.

  Till then, we grab the oars and row.

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  The 378th battle wing, now at full strength, made its way towards the jump point, and on the few occasions such as this one, things like the repainting schedule, the cleaning and cooking where never so fervently discussed by its crews.

  From the highest officer to the lowest enlisted warrior they talked of everything and anything, except their destination, of which they all knew what it was.

  The attack on Galiana was a secret of the highest level, so it was only natural that every sailor and soldier in its attack force knew about it the minute they mobilized for it, such was the nature of war.

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Have one last look at the port and pier,

  Have one last glance of snow.

  For its many light years and burning suns, to journey where we hardly know;

  Till then, we grab the oars and row.

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  The command staff and direct subordinates of Metternich all looked through their various monitors at the dwindling form of Volun 4 and Fortress 224. 859 and the constant watchful eye of Cornelia, Gerula, Zula, Husainus, Cuiunecas and every other warrior that could find a way to view the departure of their comrades with fear and trepidation for their safety.

  There, amongst the 378th battle wing, the joker, the schemer, the cynic, joined by the of cooler heads of the knight, the friendly one, the serious one, the optimist and last but not least the spiritual one unknown to all, came together with the sergeant, not physically, but rather mentally in their trepidation and nervousness.

  They should be glad after all; their many years of struggling against the odds and winning had finally paid off!

  Was this great obstacle not a testament to their skills? Was it not the ultimate reward for a warrior, to clash his blade with the greatest of all challenges?

  Wasn’t it?

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Have one last drink me hearty crew!

  Have one last drink then you know!

  It may be the last drink you ever have.

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  A great distance away from the Imperial army was another force, namely that of rebellion organized by Nobody and amongst them a certain red headed squad captain was making final preparations for their journey, and as a last minute thought she gazed at the current map of the Maran nation and the Occupied Territories.

  For this was it! The start of the beginning, or was it the beginning of the end? Or was it the end of the beginning? She couldn’t say, all she knew that things would never be the same, and that was what she wanted.

  So why be uncertain of the future, if the present was so despised?

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Have one last drink you sailor gents

  But where stuck on the shore,

  I know!

  So drink to the health of your ships mates

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Hannibal, Lance, Turneissnen and Hotzengell all boarded the train and looked at the farview that was glued to their wall, showing the warp in all its unnatural glory.

  They should all be happy, since they managed to survive a lost battle, prevented a total disaster and have gathered many laurels for their efforts.

  Surely rewards would be in store, along the future opportunity to prove themselves, once the real and decisive war would eventually start and then , they would avenge the past defeats, but a dreary and unbearable silence was the only thing they received from each other and perhaps the only thing they currently wanted.

  This was one of the oddities of all sentience, when you find yourself in a desperate situation you normally would do anything to avoid it, sometimes it meant using your own friends and comrades to avoid danger.

  But not in the military, especially not in the military and no more so than before a battle, you never give up the fight, so why where they leaving the field?

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Have a drink to our Captain.

  He knows the way?

  I know!

  To either the bounty or to the shore

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Metternich was perhaps the only one who was actually happy for all this, genuinely happy that is!

  For him this was what he always dreamed about! The realization of all his wishes! It was all underway, come a few days and he will get what he deserves and the best part of it was that no one could stop it now!

  Not even himself!

  So he walked energetically, chest puffed out with a near skip in his step to the conference room, sure of himself that he knew what the end result would be!

  It’s not like he was a liar, right?

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  And have one final drink; you fine young heroes I know!

  You’re sailing to your charted course.

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  Turafafabam, turafafabam it’s many light years I know!

  Turafabam, turafabam to our next pint we row,

  Tarkan heard the voice of Werner who had just passed his position, but luckily the colonel did not notice him as he walked past the commodore’s corner.

  The lyrics where one’s that Tarkan knew and loved, and that was all it took, one moment could make or break someone, and this was enough for him.

  He could say a thousand words; give a hundred reasons why this was a fool’s errand.

  Where even if they didn’t fight they could be permanently crippled for the remainder of their careers.

  But he settled not for some grand speech or rant, or rave, but he, like many others did what was impossible to explain, but was done by all when the odds were stacked against them and they reacted to that burning fire of doom that occasionally came in many shapes and forms to claim them.

  He sang!

  Have one last drink to quench yer burning thirst!

  Turafabam, turafabam let’s go!

  “We often get what we desired, but we are hardly satisfied by it since we have no idea what we truly want.”

  Professor Gregor de Ciupencu, Eastfield University

 
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