You know, back in outer space we used to drink - a lot
We used to smoke all kinds of kick-ass drugs
And we used to show blatant disrespect for any authority figures
Little did we know we were undermining our entire value system...

At that time, I was serving in The Master's 3rd Scumdog Legion, aboard a planetary infection barge, attempting to obey a host of confusing orders, but mostly satisfying only our lust for slaughter. Ragingly drunk half the time, I only realized a battle had started when I heard the roar of the fleet's plasma bombardment. Piling into our armored assault pods we began our descent to the planet's pulverized surface. We were met by a flight of primitive interceptors which we devastated with soaring blast of nuclear hatred.

On the horizon was the blazing outlines of a bombed city, the outlying areas dotted with flaming craters and fleeing refuges. I vomited out the window and led our battalion on a blazing attack on the non-combatants, pulp flying, their flesh in a rain of sulfuric plasma burst. The mass mutilation of a world ensued with those not fit for slave labor being herded into gigantic flaming pits. We laughed as several thousand years of cultural development were wiped out in a single blundering instant

As we flew through deep space
Ritually disemboweling our victims
The navigator informed us that we attacked
The wrong planet