"Kalashnikov's", Zvezdny Gorodok

[Othman]

Miroslav swilled the remaining ration of his beer with angst and strangely-mixed feelings of anticipation and duress, as he took an abiding gander at Ares; courtly trying to comply with forming prolific opinions of the data amassed so far, and yet to be done, before sprouting his soliloquy.

I seem to be fated to say or do something right now;

When I try to think of matters that are a year old or more, I seldom find my remembrance as vivid as I could wish it to be. Take Cadizs bombing, for instance, which is not in my extenuation though. Prying and listening are the natural occupations of people situated as we are, so I need your inquiry as much as possible in order to make sure that the infamous suspicion resting on me might be demisted soon.

I am convinced of my crews honesty and intelligence; but it is firmly persuading than ever that the circumstances, in this case have fatally misled me. What we were accosted by during the retaliation from Leon was something not only defying explanation but even beyond conjecture; delectation for a bunch of beguilers, the worst torment for me.

And it is without doubt that the current asymmetrical level, we are occupied with, is obviously compelling us to scrutinize over the plans, as I will be trying my best for the proliferation of this very case.

Ares finished his beer, glanced over some pages and resumed listening.

Even the Junkers to die for metal will covet our hand after Cretes fall. What about the compendium then? Do you have anything in mind for the incoming stage of turmoil?

Miroslav read lamenting as Ares intercepted to forbid the dispute going on, and respond.

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On the uncharted lagoons of anguish, I sail with a canoe made of my sins.