Epitaph
This battle would kill them all, this would be their epitaph, I thought. There were already so many deaths among the Van Doos... But no, I would not let it! It wasn't going to end this way. I raised up my sword, and bellowed, the vox relaying to the vox-beads of the troopers: "Troopers of the Royal Van Doos, do you want to live forever?" and brought it down, missing. "That's it I thought, I've spent my last chance... It was an honour serving with all of you..." But the 'kra-zzzak!' report of a sniper lasrifle inches from my head... Wait, that's where the magister's head had been! I've bought them a chance to fight on!
"What are you reading there, Michael?"
"Oh, this? It's Carmine's memoirs."
"What, don't you have to be retired to write those?"
"She is, medical down-check."
"Oh." Sophia shivered.
"You ok?"
"It's just scary to me that you can be that damaged, that broken, just in your mind... Did she move back home?"
"Yeah, according to the return address of the book anyways."
"Oh, she sent it to you personally?"
"Yeah, I can't imagine there'd be very many copies..."
"Your book sold out. On the first day!"
"What? How?"
"I'm guessing the medal has something to do with that..." Her agent was gloating, she thought, he'd been the one who'd insisted she brand the book as the story of her medal, even if it's only the last chapter.
"So what do we do now?"
"I can see if I can get us a reprint on the force of this, on a bigger publisher, the refectory press can't handle more than 500 units at the best of time."
"Throne of Terra! You think I could sell thousands?"
"Tens of thousands, I can't imagine anyone selling out in 10 hours like you did and not selling many, many more..."
Comments