We've been on the run for just about fourteen days.
Separated from the fleet, the way home blocked.
Two weeks for the hunters, for us an eternity.
The ship is damaged, unable to sustain ghost mode.
A dozen women, battered, bloodied, tired and hungry.

Surrender the ship they say and we'll let you live.
That was good for a hearty laugh .
The nerve!
We are not common thieves or cowardly civilians.
Proud intergalactic warriors, that's what we are.
Victory or death in combat are the only valid options.

Fuel running out, we immediately sought out 
the nearest refuge, an abandoned prison colony 
and set her down.
Donned full battle gear, got into position and waited.
If it's flesh they want, they will have to earn every pound.

Watched in silence as they fell from the sky.
One by one we begin to "hum" the battle-cry.
Ravenous predators, closing for the kill.
Ferocious warriors, ready to test our skill.
Daughters of Galaexy, blood in our eye.
Bring it on you bastards, it is not a good night to die..


The Stand  - 4 Daun -  copyright © 2000 Ahkenaton  All rights reserved