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Ichwerbe schoif des Muurneolken

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The clinking glasses brimming with vodka were drowned out by the near-deafening music being blasted out of the bar's speakers. "Akula, akula!" Yelled the squad of Eteno, all dressed in their blue, casual uniforms. Now, naval infantrymen continued the tradition, long after the war on Earth. Seven glasses were emptied in short order by seven Eteno, with jovial expressions seemingly frozen onto their faces. All were bathed in the dark purple light. "Oh, alright, for all of you. So, you guys all know Ion, right?" Everyone nodded slowly in agreement. "Go on, man!" Veaceslav urged. "What'd you replace?"

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The clinking glasses brimming with vodka were drowned out by the near-deafening music being blasted out of the bar's speakers. "Akula, akula!" Yelled the squad of Eteno, all dressed in their blue, casual uniforms. It was a curious tradition, the yelling of the human word. Akula, in the language known as Russian, meant shark. Naval infantrymen during the devastating conflict on Earth would try to ease the tension with Soviet naval infantry by drinking with them. Between the quality Russian drink and Eteno tolerance to alchohol, nights on leave would be long and fun. Somehow, in some bombed-out building or ramshackle military pub, a drink came along with the nickname 'Akula'. Some records say that it was made especially strong so the Eteno could get drunk quickly by Soviets, while others say that some Eteno Staff Sergeant came up with it to impress the Soviets. Either way, it had a nice name. Drinkers would yell this name before chugging their drink, and the tradition spread like wildifre throughout the Imperial Navy. Naval infantry in particular took a liking to it. Now, naval infantrymen continued the tradition, long after the war on Earth. Seven glasses were emptied in short order by seven Eteno, with jovial expressions seemingly frozen onto their faces. All were bathed in the dark purple light. "Alex, Alexandru, tell... tell everyone about the thing in the hangar yesterday!" Veaceslav demanded, slamming his mighty fists onto the metal table, seemingly ignorant of the pain that followed immediately after. "Oh, alright, for all of you. So, you guys all know Ion, right?" Everyone nodded slowly in agreement. "Good. He was acting like an ass yesterday, so when I was walking by the hangar and I saw him exit the control center..." "Go on, man!" Veaceslav urged. "I walked in, and saw nobody was there, right? So, I found his PAD just sitting there, and I changed the word fill-in options." "What'd you replace?" "I reversed his name and replaced each conjunction with 'weischaun'! You should've seen him when... when he was trying to write a love letter to Nadja! I was just pretending to be busy, and he got so frustrated! I swear, he almost broke the thing before I told him!" "And yet you lived! You pissed of Ion, and you lived!" Urban exclaimed with amazement present in his voice.