Okay, not muzak, actually. These are songs that are used by the Nueva Terran Unified Fleet in the current era. Firstly, the rather mournful Marine Hymn (UF Marines are made up of the bulk of the NorRep Legion Noir, the Emirate DeathWatch, the SouLight Ordo Malleus and the Western Elite Corps - all elite/special forces units).

~Cos' it's a bittersweet symphony this life...
Trying to make ends meet, we're all slaves to duty then we die.
We're take you down the only road We've ever been down...
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the veins meet, yeah.

No change, we can't change, we can't change, we can't change,
but we're here in our mould , we are here in our mould.
But we're a million different people from one war to the next...
We can't change our mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Well we never pray, But tonight I'm in a foxhole.
I need to hear some sounds that recognise the pain in me, yeah.
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind , I feel free now.
But the airwaves are clean and there's nobody singing to me now.

No change, we can't change, we can't change, we can't change,
but we're here in our mould , we are here in our mould.
But we're a million different people from one war to the next...
We can't change our mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

Well have you ever been down? I can't change, I can't change...

Cos' it's a bittersweet symphony this life.
Trying to make it through, trying to do our duty then we die.

No change, we can't change, we can't change, we can't change,
but we're here in our mould , we are here in our mould.
But we're a million different people from one war to the next...
We can't change our mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no

We're take you down the only road we've ever been down.
We're take you down the only road we've ever been down.
It justs sex and violence melody and silence.
Been down, Ever been down, Ever been down...~


Secondly, an Ashanti drinking song, that despite official disapproval is inordinately popular with the crews of the fleet, except on SouLight crewed ships who generally don't get the joke. The various 'Drake' Browns seem to find the reference to their ancestor rather amusing for some reason.

~Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the Ashanti Dream. About me. About you. The way our Ashanti hearts beat down in the bottom of our chests. About the special feeling we get in the cockles of our hearts, maybe below the cockles, maybe in the sub-cockle area. Maybe in the liver. Maybe in the kidneys. Maybe even in the colon, we don't know.
I'm just a regular Joe with a regular job
I'm your average white suburbanite slob
I like fencing and porno and books about war
I've got an average house with a nice hardwood floor
My wife and my job, my kids and my car
My feet on my table, and a cuban cigar
But sometimes that just ain't enough to keep a man like me interested
(Oh no) No Way (Uh-uh)
No, I've gotta go out and have fun
At someone else's expense
(Oh yeah) Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
I drive really slow in the ultrafast lane
While people behind me are going insane
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, such an asshole)
I use public toilets and piss on the seat
I walk around in the hot season saying, "How about this heat?"
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
Sometimes I park in handicapped spaces
While handicapped people make handicapped faces
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole)
Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song
Ranting and raving and carrying on
Maybe they're right when they tell me I'm wrong
Naaaah!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
[Spoken]
You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get myself a 1967 Keimuri Los Revenger convertible, hot pink with bearskin hub caps and all leather cow interior and big brown baby 'roo eyes for headlights, yeah! And I'm gonna drive around in that baby at 165kph getting one mile per gallon, sucking down quarter pounder cheese burgers from Bethanite's in the old-fashioned non-biodegradable styrofoam containers and when I'm done sucking down those grease ball burgers, I'm gonna wipe my mouth with the Ashanti flag and then I'm gonna toss the styrofoam container right out the side and there ain't a God damned thing anybody can do about it. YOu know why? Because we got the bombs, that's why.
[Spoken]
Two words. Nuclear fucking weapons, okay?! NorRep, SouLight, Eastern Star - they can have all the Democracy they want. They can have a big democracy cake-walk right through the middle of the Champs de Mars and it won't make a lick of difference because we've got the bombs, okay?! Drake Brown's not dead - he's frozen. And as soon as we find the cure for cancer we're gonna thaw out the duke and he's gonna be pretty pissed off. You know why? Have you ever taken a cold shower? Well multiple that by 15-million times, that's how pissed off the Drake's gonna be. I'm gonna get the Drake and David s'Ffalenn...
(Hey)
and Lang Regina
(Hey)
and Ivan Antonov
(Hey)
And a case of Whiskey and fly down to Caprice...
(Hey, you know you really are an asshole)
Why don't you just shut-up and sing the song pal!
I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)
I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)
A-S-S-H-O-L-E Everybody! A-S-S-H-O-L-E
[Barking]
Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf Arf
Fung achng tum a fung tum a fling chum
Oooh Oooh
[Spoken]You know, I really am an Asshole.~


The 'Song of the Spacer' is of unknown age, but is universally known among all professional spacers from Nueva Terra. The scepticism evident in the song is typical for the men and women who cannot afford to trust anything fully due to the dangers of their environment.

~'ve never seen an angel
I've never seen the devil
I've never held the truth
Or kissed a lie
I can't imagine heaven
I've never cried in hell
I think of holy things
you say them all so well

Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
I know better (better)
Sometimes I think I know
but I know better

I've never known the right way
I've never known the left
I don't mean to pretend
that I know best
I cannot step into your mind
You cannot step into mine
If I am over you
I'm not the one who's flying

Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
I know better (better)
Sometimes I think I know
but I know better
I know better
I know better

Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
I know better (better)
Sometimes I think I know
but I know better
I know better
I know better
Sometimes I think I know
Sometimes I think I know
I know better
I know better
better~


And lastly, the offical anthem of the Unified Fleet, formalised after the desperate defences that characterised the First Caprician War, as the raging ICF battered at Nueva Terra's thin defences.

~Life's tough
so What?
I'm a fighter
I've been down
seen hard times
but I survived
you know I learnt my lesson
in the school of hard knocks
I've got this world to live in
Can't hold me down
Can't hold me back

Cause I'm bound for glory
Oh yeah, bound for glory
A heartfelt victory
Is a warrior's destiny
bound for glory
yes we're, bound for glory

I'll fight
And I'll win
Cause I'm strong
I'm breaking the chains
I stand tall
my head's high
now I belong
dismissing the pain
you know I learnt my lessons
and the pain made me strong
and though my strength is growing
I know what's right
I know what's wrong

Bound for glory
Oh yeah, bound for glory
A heartfelt victory
Is a warrior's destiny
bound for glory
yes we're, bound for glory

oh you can't hold back the tide
when it starts to turn
well you can't go back
can't go back
it's a lesson to learn

you know I learnt my lessons
and the pain made me strong
and though my strength is growing
I know what's right
I know what's wrong

Bound for glory
Oh yeah, bound for glory
A heartfelt victory
Is a warrior's destiny
bound for glory
oh we're, bound for glory

Bound for glory
Oh yeah, bound for glory
A heartfelt victory
Is a warrior's destiny
bound for glory
yes, bound for glory

Bound for glory
Oh yeah, bound for glory
A heartfelt victory
Is a warrior's destiny
bound for glory~



drakensis

Of each thing ask what is it primary motivation, what is it nature, and most importantly, what sort of damage will it cause if thrown at a Visigoth with great force. -- From the unrecorded Meditations of Marcus Aurelius.

It is said that the thranx and solarians aren't really two races. It is said that their souls are so close that biology ceases to have any meaning and the only accurate relection of their singular psychocultural matrix is 'humanx'.

Wheather or not these are true, it is still the case that the soul of the Commonwealth Peaceforce was forged not over any period of experimentation and unification, but rather in low Earth orbit, where only one in a thousand crewmen was actually a thranx and a planetful of desperate humanity found dignity and courage from the memory of their insectoid friends.

The Battle of the Line. Where a million people from a hundred thousand backgrounds joined together and said to their unstoppable foe, not with any hope of victory but rather with that quiet dedication and dignity which has no need of it, "Thou shalt not pass."

One year later to the day, at a memorial concert in New Berlin, the opening act presented a song whose lyrics were taken wholesale from Thomas B. Macaulay's poem Horatius (right title? I don't know, mozilla's acting funny, along with the rest of my comp...). The headliners refused to play, stating that they didn't want to cheapen something they found so perfectly appropriate. Since the crowd didn't riot, but instead went home quietly, it can be assumed that they agreed.

Over time, this song would come to be associated with Peaceforce far more strongly than that organization's proper anthem.


But the Consul's brow was sad,
And the Consul's speech was low,
And darkly looked he at the wall,
And darkly at the foe.
"Their van will be upon us
Before the bridge goes down;
And if they once may win the bridge,
What hope to save the town?"

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain at the gate;
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his Gods,

"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three.
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?"

Then out spake Spurius Lartius
A Ramnian proud was he:
"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And keep the bridge with thee."
And out spake strong Herminius;
Of Titian blood was he;
"I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee."

"Horatius," quoth the Consul,
"As thou sayest, so let it be."
And straight against that great array
Forth went the dauntless Three.
For Romans in Rome's quarrel
Spared neither land nor gold,
Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life,
In the brave days of old.

Then none was for a party;
Then all were for the state;
Then the great man helped the poor,
And the poor man loved the great;
Then lands were fairly portioned;
Then spoils were fairly sold;
The Romans were like brothers
In the brave days of old.

Now Roman is to Roman
More hateful than a foe,
And the Tribunes beard the high,
And the Fathers grind the low.
As we wax hot in faction,
In battle we wax cold:
Wherefore men fight not as they fought
In the brave days of old.

Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,
Rank behind rank, like surges bright
Of a broad sea of gold.
As that great host, with measured tread,
And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,
Rolled slowly toward the bridge's head,
Where stood the dauntless Three.

The Three stood calm and silent
And looked upon the foes,
And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose;
And forth three chiefs came spurring
Before that deep array;
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,
To win the narrow way.

Herminius smote down Aruns;
Lartius laid Ocnus low;
Right to the heart of Lausulus
Horatius sent a blow.
"Lie there," he cried, "fell pirate!
No more, aghast and pale,
From Ostia's walls the crowd shall mark
The track of thy destroying bark."

But now no sound of laughter
Was heard among the foes.
A wild and wrathful clamor
From all the vanguard rose.
Six spear' length from the entrance
Halted that deep array,
And for a space no man came forth
To win the narrow way.

But hark! the cry is Astur;
And lo! his ranks divide;
And the great Lord of Luna
Comes with his stately stride.
Upon his ample shoulders
Clangs loud the four-fold shield,
And in his hand he shakes the brand
Which none but he can wield.

He rushed against Horatius,
And smote with all his mite.
With shield and blade Horatius
Right deftly turned the blow.
Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,
So fierce a thrust he sped,
The good sword stood a hand-breath out
Behind the Tuscan's head.

And the great Lord of Luna
Fell at that deadly stroke,
As falls on Mount Alvernus
A thunder-smitten oak.
Far o'er the crashing forest
The giant arms lie spread;
And the pale augurs, muttered low,
Gaze on the blasted head.

On Astur's throat Horatius
Right firmly pressed his heel,
And thrice and four times tugged amain
Ere he wretched out the steel.
"And see," he cried, "the welcome,
Fair guests, that waits you here!
What noble Lucumo comes next,
To taste our Roman cheer?"

Back darted Spurius Lartius;
Herminius darted back:
And, as they passed, beneath their feet
They felt the timbers crack.
But when they turned their faces,
And on the farther shore
Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
They would have crossed once more.

Alone stood brave Horatius,
But constant still in mind;
Thrice thirty thousand foes before
And the broad flood behind.
"Oh Tiber! Father Tiber!
To whom the Romans pray,
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms,
Take thou in charge this day!"

And still his name sounds stirring
Unto the men of Rome,
As the trumpet-blast that cries to them
To charge the Volscian home;
And wives still pray to Juno
For boys with hearts as bold
As his who kept the bridge so well
In the brave days of old.

When the goodman mends his armor,
And trims his helmet's plume,
When the goodwife's shuttle merrily
Goes flashing through the loom;
With weeping and with laughter
Still is the story told,
How well Horatious kept the bridge
In the brave days of old.

What are the real names for these songs?