The mist clears away, all the camp now lies silent

The people hurln down, dust covered and bent.

No battlefield stranger have I ever seen.

For no other combatants have ever I been

So grieved by the silence. They lie as if dead.

I look down at my feet, at a young flaxen head

In whose soft features dull pain still is writ.

I turn swiftly away, our work must be quick.

Ere long the others who haunt the dark halls

And pester the Normandy will have been recalled.

By then we must be through and gone.

The way must be found, and then shut full strong.

A slab draws aside, a deep stair is revealed.

A gasp and groan falls sharp on my ears.

There stands Fai Dan. A gun in his hand

gaze appalled to look on the man.

His kindly face is a twisted mask

He’s bent like a lightening struck tree in a blast

His eyes are half-closed in a squint of pain

Yet he seems to see all and to see it again.

I have no grenades. A harsh blow might now kill him.

I seize my gun in the hope I can threaten.

I don’t know if he’ll hear. How he trembles and shakes!

But he looks up, looks straight into my face.

‘I was supposed to lead Zhu’s Hope.’

(Oh, his voice, that a man should croak!)

‘I was supposed to take care of these people.’

(How frail he seems, just how breakable.)

‘And look where I’ve led them. Look what I’ve done.’

He violently shakes, glances down at his gun.

‘It wants me to kill you…’

(Don’t make me, Dan, don’t.)

His hand starts to move, I prepare…

‘But I won’t.’

His gun breaks the silence. And silent he lies.

One hard-won free act. In defiance, he dies.

~