Toh'la's Requiem

TOH'LA'S REQUIEM Verse 1 Born small, born sick, a blade not forged. The child should not survive, But iron blood did learn to thrive! He did not rise by noble name, Nor feast on easy, borrowed fame. He learned that strength is cheaply won, but honor demands both sweat and blood. Pre-Chorus Let others take their painted halls! He chose the ToH'la; rust and all, seeing a heart of steel beneath what others mock! A little ship, a narrow throne— He made the killing ground his own! Refrain: He made the killing ground his own! Chorus The Great Targ! One eye on fate, one hand on war! Small ship, dark stars, no need for glory more! Claws in the void --- flying high! No Empire, no House, -- we own the sky. Verse 2 They laughed and gave him a rusted hull, Coolant breaches and corridors dull. No grand command, no towering fleet, Just old steel under warrior feet. He knew well what fools lack: A great targ needs only prey. Verse 3 The young ones boasted, fast and loud, Dreaming of glorious death before the crowd. Fierce Lurok burned with rebel flame, Hungry to take the captain's name. Kargan watched with weathered eyes, Knowing that youth mistakes its size. When challenge came, his blade slashed— Lurok's eye was lost, but his life was spared! Pre-Chorus: Spare the strong and mark them deep, The dangerous are the best to keep! Fear makes slaves and love makes fools, Respect is forged by harder rules! Verse 4 Last to drink and last to sleep, Last to laugh and last to weep. First to bear the dead by name, First to shoulder loss and blame. Not the loudest voice of all, But when he spoke, the crew leaned near, For quiet men are those to fear! Verse 5 "Do not seek what men applaud! Seek the path that fate has clawed! A crew that fears you will obey, But a crew that loves you drifts away. Earn their scars and earn their trust! Lead through hunger, blood, and dust!" Bridge At Vorga'ta the Artifact called, Through ruins split and gravity mauled! Relaa fed science's flame, While Jorek cursed the thing unnamed. Light and Song broke through the black. Kargan felt destiny draw breath— An old targ now stalking death! Refrain: He made the killing ground his own! Verse 6 Gravity screamed and the hull gave way, The Rift unmade the hunting day. His eye was taken so he could see, the universe gone but the ToH'la CARRIED ON! New stars glowed, too soft, too clean, A younger sky than we had seen. No Houses there, no Empire's chain— Only prey and open reign! Chorus 2 He was the Targ the rest did fear. Cry out, ToH'la! Loose fire and make them fall! Not thieves, not killers, but Hunters all! Know the difference and heed our call! Verse 7 Convoys broke and syndicates ran, Outposts burned by his command! "Today is a good day -- for you to die!" A war pack bound to one old call: Follow the Hunt. Obey the Wall! Verse 8 Drifters came from broken lines, Mercs and ghosts and outlaw minds. Rangers stained and soldiers scarred, Crews abandoned, breathing hard. He forged them not with courts or gold, But oath and raid and iron cold. And when they called for crown or throne, He spat, "Let lesser men have stone!" The Huntmaster, battle taught, an empire made from what he fought! Verse 9 The Iron Maw rose vast and grim, Yet all roads still led back to him. Miral learned at her master's side, How to hold, and when to ride. Lurok bowed and Jorek swore, Relaa searched the Rift for more. The ToH'la, small but never still, Remained his heart, his iron will. He made the killing ground his own! Verse 10 Coalitions came with numbers proud, Guns enough to burn the ground! Kargan led where plasma fell, Sending twenty-three ships to hell! Then the dorsal spine was torn, Steel and fire and battle's horn! Bridge: Pinned beneath the broken frame, Still he smiled and spoke her name. Not of home, nor throne, nor past— Only of the Hunt that lasts. To Miral there in smoke and pain: "Honor the Hunt -- Teach them Flame -- Bear my Name." Thus an old targ loosed his breath, And forged a weapon out of death. Outro: The ToH'la sleeps in the hallowed space, Alongside her commander's grace. A sanctuary, a sacred cove, a silent base. Once a year, she flies ... dark and quiet. A vigil held. An oath renewed. A promise kept. Spoken Soliloquy: Command is not glory. Honor is not a prize to be won. The captain is the last to drink, the last to sleep. The last to laugh, the last to weep. First to bear the dead by name. First to shoulder loss and blame. The first to bleed, the last to fall, he must remain to count them all. Closing Grand Chorus: The Great Targ! One eye on fate, one hand on war! Small ship, dark stars, no need for glory more! He made the killing ground his own!