Captain Zakaria Burch was in standing outside on a balcony near the bridge, overlooking the sea. His first mate, Karl Ramirez, a much younger, yet trustworthy lad, was standing by him, holding a pair of binoculars, and looking at Greater Saint-Paul. They could just see its mountains off in the distance. Both men knew that the battle would begin soon.
“Are they men ready?” Burch asked Ramirez.
“Yes sir, the landing ships are prepared. Captain Loren has confirmed that they are en route to the planned invasion area,” Ramirez replied, still looking through the binoculars. “Our fleet will begin to split in a few hours.”
“Good,” Burch replied, still looking at the ocean.
Ramirez put his binoculars down slowly and looked at the captain. “Sir, if I may ask, what if the invasion fails? What then?”
Burch took a glance at his first mate and looked back at the sea. He stared at it for a moment, Ramirez eventually looking at it again. Some seabirds passed by overhead towards Greater Saint-Paul.
“Look at those birds,” Burch said, pointing at them. “Not a care in the world - they fly where the wind takes them. Thus, the birds do not need to become involved in others affairs. The wind just blows them away.”
Ramirez looked at his captain, a puzzled look on his face. He thought of it for a moment and then understood. Burch was known for having a way with words. But in this case, words would not be enough to end this war.
The two men continued looking at the ocean, and the birds were carried among the winds of change.