Volunian system, Planet Volun 4, Area around newly erected Federal and Volunian Dome.

Dalius continued to scream and shout as the others started to call for a medic, but where stopped when Daliu’s screams started turning into giggles and his ‘wounded limb’ was brought up to his mouth, where his intact hand emerged from its sleeve and he licked the ‘blood’ on his ‘wound’.

“Homemade red forestberry jam; the best thing ever! And the trick knife isn’t half bad either!” he said and started laughing at his successful prank.

“Dalius, give me one bad, let alone good reason as to why we should let this slide!” Raqia.n.u.s shouted at him, half-amused and half-angry at his comrade in arms.

“Yes, you almost gave me a heart attack! Force of Creation be praised, that it was just a prank!” Horatia reprimanded him, she along with Raqia.n.u.s had a relieved tone in their voices and where fighting back the laughter.

He looked at them and with joy in his voice replied with:

“Oh come on boys and girls, we just won a battle, that’s reason enough for this! Also……” he paused as the levity in his voice disappeared and he gazed towards the gathered group.

“……….also the joy of victory was starting to fade, soon we will have to bury the dead, then we have a long march ahead of us and we don’t know who or even if any of us will make it and  after that, we have to prepare for another battle, I’m…………I’m sorry if I…….if I caused you distress, but I wanted the joy to last a little while longer, since I felt it slipping……..and pranks fill me with joy, so………. I’m sorry.” he said with sincerity in his voice, and regret for his actions.

At this they all gathered around him, and gave him a rea.s.suring hug.

 How could they begrudge him for pursuing happiness?

“Don’t worry about it, after we withdraw and regroup with the main force, we’ll be back and make them sorry they ever declared war on us!” Oscar said to Dalius in a comforting tone.

 “That’s enough for now, let’s all get to work.” Metternich said to them and used all of his willpower to walk slowly out of the tent and not run screaming away, or at least not reprimand them for taking comfort in the prospect of ma.s.s bloodshed.

And so he slowly, meticulously walked out, followed by the others, who were on their way to make the necessary preparations for the journey ahead. After a few more parting words, they all went their separate ways.

Metternich made his way towards his private tent, he told Butz who had been waiting outside the meeting that he is not to be disturbed, unless it’s an emergency and then continued on his path to his tent.

As Metternich reached the location where it had been erected, he thought that the worse was over, but it was not to be so, for as he was about enter, his nose sensed a foul smell emerging from a few rows down. He walked towards the source of the vile odor, confident that he already knew what was ahead and also dreading the answer.

Reaching the location where the smell came from, he now confirmed his suspicions, that it was the field hospital.

 There, hundreds if not thousands of soldiers where all bloodied, wounded, in agony and some of them were on their deathbed, but to him the most disturbing thing there was the low number of enemy wounded. He could only see about a couple hundred Volunians, their humanoid shape and distinctive bluish-green skin and emerald eyes told them apart from the myriad of Imperial wounded, of whom the majority was in their first form, with the rest in their second. It may sound like a grand number those 300 or so Volunians, but one must keep in mind that the enemy force took almost 50% casualties, so despite fearing the answer he had to know.

“Where are the rest of the enemy’s wounded?” he asked an orderly.

“Sir, we are still gathering them up, but we estimate that there are about 8.000 Volunians that have yet to been collected.” the orderly replied.

That struck Metternich like a ton of bricks, from that number and adding the wounded that have already been brought to the medical area; he deduced that around 21.000 had just died this night.

“They are the finest soldiers in the Empire!”

Adrian’s words echoed in his mind, as only now did he fully realize the true ramifications of what his knight had said and after a few moments of silence, he gave a nod to the orderly and with a hollow gaze, like his very soul had been plucked out of his body, he made his way back to his tenth.

Once he was alone, Metternich immediately collapsed to his knees as his mask had become too heavy to bear.

He lay down in a fetal position as the combined horrors that he had just witnessed and had unleashed today overwhelmed him. The hospital, the number of those that died and worse of all, the image of ‘his’ commander’s smiling faces at the thought of killing even more foes, flashed through his head.

“Predators! They’re a pack of predators! And I’m not one of them..….21.000! I just killed 21.000 so I can live another day and G.o.d help me I want to live! I want to live so bad……………… I should have just ran when Crackerjack appeared, should have defected! If I did…….Oh G.o.d!” he thought to himself as tears ran down his eyes as an even more horrible realization hit him.

 His troops followed him because he was their leader, because to them he was now the top predator and that was what terrified him the most, for he knew that if he would fail as their commander, they would do what any predator would do to the weakest link in the pack.

They would devour it!

And that was how what history would call the Battle of Dagadeck Mountain, ended.

 One army destroyed, another victorious, and a half-broken man who caused the death of countless and wounding and crippling of even more, would be hailed as a great hero.

AL HAIL THE EMPIRE!