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01/01/10(Fri)19:45 No.7381089>>7380927 When I was a young man, I had a scout ship, And I lived the free life of a scouter. From the twin stars of Aphor to the Aquila Rift, I danced that old scoutship all over. Then in naught-oh-fifteen, the Emp'ror said son, It's time to stop scouting, there's work to be done, and they gave me a cruiser, a rank bar, a gun, And they sent me away to the war.
And the band played 'Fight on, The Navy', As we boarded the Santa Maree, And amidst all the tears, The prayers and the cheers, We sailed off for Bellephron III.
Well I remember, that terrible sight, Of our proud navy cut down and shattered. How in that hell they called Lagrange ten, We were butchered like poor bloody cattle. Old boney was waitin'. He'd primed himself well. He battered us with lances, and broke us with shell. And in ten minutes flat, he'd blown us all to hell... Nearly blew us right back to Agrippa.
But the vox played 'Fight on, The Navy', As we stopped to tally the slain. We'd lost half of ours, For a handful of thiers, But we charged right on back in, again.
Now us that were left, well we tried to survive, In this mad world of broadside and border. And for nine minutes ten, I kept my boys alive, While around us our numbers grew lesser. Then a whole mess of Guardsmen stormed onto the bridge, they shot the nav, Kelly, and the kid, but for some reason, they just let me live. Never knew there were worse things than dyin'.
'For no more I'll go dancin' my scouter', I thought as I ran for the pod, For a scout can't feel dread, he's got more balls than head, and that's one thing a coward ain't got.
Those pods that survived, I gathered to me, and we left like a bolt from a barrel. A dozen survivors of twelve million odd men, The grand fleet of Admiral Karil. And as we pulled into the Catan dock ring, three from the Mada all started to sing, and the thought of my boys had a terrible sting, for not one hat lived through the battle... |