Death—they could accept. But not a death without meaning. They wanted to know why they were dying, what purpose their sacrifice served. To fall without understanding the reason behind it—that was the one fate they refused to accept.
At first, when the shields of the Star Fortress were destroyed, they knew the enemy was powerful, but they remained oblivious to just how powerful. They had thought that even against a powerful enemy, they were not without their own strength.
Victory was never within their reach—and they had known that from the beginning. The enemy was stronger, overwhelming from the first clash. Still, they fought, believing that some of them might survive, that perhaps if they inflicted enough losses, the enemy would retreat. On paper, that might look like victory. But victory wasn't what they sought.
What they wanted was survival—just long enough to send word to their clan, to warn them that the enemy had come.
