Chapter 51
Three days after the discussion between admirals the enclave’s vessels disappear as they enter Hyperspace, save for one larger vessel. After a passionate request from the Vice-Admiral and the officers of the Sith carrier, Dauntless Void, the High Admiral authorized the vessel to remain to bolster Korriban’s defenses in addition to a task group of special forces commandos that volunteered to accompany the mission. Light from the several hangar bays lining its great length stand in stark contrast to the black angular metal and the void of space behind it. Beneath the planet’s surface, dreary lighting illuminates the quarters occupied by the High Admiral. The walls are mostly stone with some metallic accents and supports. Anhiel sits in a high backed chair with her hair down, some loose curls as a result of less maintenance over the past couple days. She picks up a plain grey cup and lifts it to her lips, taking a gulp of the basic caf held within as she glances at the chronometer nearby. “0327 standard time…..Athin will have my head if he finds out.” She chuckles slightly at the thought, knowing full well the man was engaged and not able to keep watch as much as he would like. With that, she picks up the nearby datapad and opens the first of a couple reports regarding preparations that were received a few hours before. Her tired eyes drift over the words displayed on the golden screen.
Archive
High Admiral,
Data has been secured as much as possible. Military personnel are in place in greater numbers on the premises, including three squads of Sith commandos who will remain in concealed positions until the enemy begins to engage in order to sell the feint. Two battalions are deployed forward ten kilometers along the canyon to the south. Forces will not engage until the enemy commits to taking the archives. Elevation and entrenched positions upon the cliffs shall provide protection to force the enemy to react. There are minimal locations suitable for transport landing near the archive and the bulk of the enemy force in the area will have to put down in the canyon and work their way up. Guerrilla tactics will be effective to slow movement and give the impression that less forces are stationed in the area. Full details are attached to this message.
With respect,
Special-Commander Ca’Joasichubanakeda
A slight smirk crosses Anhiel’s face as she thinks to herself, “Guerrilla tactics, nearly as old as you are, my friend.” Several keystrokes are all that is needed to send her response and her approval is carried to Joash nearly immediately. As he gazes at the message, he sets his features and nods solemnly while taking several puffs from his pipe before speaking to the empty space around him, “Yeah yeah…..old tactics, I am old….I get it.” He chuckles lightly before sighing, “Thank you for this opportunity, Grandmaster…” His eyes drift over towards his ancient patinated saber hilt and he states quietly, “and for reminding me of the man I once was.” Many kilometers away, Anhiel senses the elder Jedi’s emotions and offers a slight smile as she expands her presence greatly. It takes significant effort but her presence in the Force brushes against her friend, mentor, and follower. The touch is unmistakable and Joash looks up, grinning before bowing low to seemingly no one. “May the Force be with you…my Lord.”
More than a week passed as forces made up of Sith and the Enclave worked to fortify several key locations on Korriban’s surface. Standing upon a high cliff is Athin, overlooking the final fortification efforts of the area. A young pureblood Sith Captain comes behind the man wearing his standard tan robes and salutes, “My lord, preparations are completing as we speak. Do you have any additional orders?” The Miraluka’s gaze is focused up towards space above with many abstract colors filling his unique sight; blackest black, whitest whites, purples, reds, all manners of color swirl about until a singular gold color forms in the center of his vision. Athin’s features fall as he exhales deeply before glancing slightly back towards the officer, “Captain, contact the High Admiral. Our enemy is enroute and they will arrive within two days. Afterwards, prepare our troops, I want a status report and all stations manned.” The man salutes crisply, adding quickly, “As you command, my Lord.” before turning away sharply. Athin exhales deeply until a gruff voice grabs his attention, “My Lord? Don’t tell me you have taken your brooding phase to the next level.”
Athin turns towards Joash and sighs, rubbing his forehead, “Of course it would be you. You have a knack for showing up at the most inopportune time for me.” The elder man chuckles and slaps his friend on the shoulder, “I merely came to check in on you before heading on to my post.” Both stare forward and slightly up towards space as Joash adds solemnly, “Stand firm, General. I have nothing but confidence in you but should you need assistance, you need only ask.” Athin inclines his head in gratitude, “Thank you, Joash. May the Force be with you.” The elder master gives a shit-eating grin to his friend before turning and striding towards the transport that began to settle on the pad nearby. The young officer returns, clearing his throat as he stands straight, “My Lord, the High Admiral acknowledges your message and asks you to identify the commanding officers upon their arrival.”
Athin watches Joash’s aura as his transport rises from the ground before departing for the Sith archives and he sighs, speaking to the officer, “If that is her command, we must ensure they focus on our position.” The officer gazes at the Miraluka and salutes but he pauses, asking hesitantly, “How do you intend to accomplish that, my Lord?” Without turning, Athin speaks flatly, “It is my understanding that Korriban is in possession of a handful of missiles from the Shadow Arsenal. Is that correct?” A gulp is the only response received initially, which causes Athin to turn his eyeless gaze towards the man and along with it a heavy weight. Calmly, he asks again, “Am I wrong?” The man clears his throat and shakes his head, “No, my Lord. I just….” His voice trails off and Athin sighs, “Tell the High Admiral I require three of these missiles during initial contact to weaken the enemy and ensure they engage in a manner we want.” The order is acknowledged swiftly before the man sets to his task and after the orders are relayed, the officer returns somewhat timidly. He clears his throat before asking, “My Lord, may I ask what you are planning with those ordinances? They were not engineered for land combat.” Athin chuckles, “The greatest defense is to be unpredictable. I suspect that the Eternal Empire has moles or some other form of an information network, they have been too effective for that not to be the case. If I am right, they know of these weapons and their capabilities. However, there is something about them that is not officially recorded.” The surprise on the Captain’s face is clear, prompting a followup question, “Am I wrong?” A shake of the head is all the response needed and Athin continues, “A very gifted young engineer with some time on her hands and a mission was able to deduce there are classified prototype compact ion drives in these missiles. All the thrust of a capital ship’s ion drive in a fraction of the size. These weapons will travel so quickly from the surface they will be unable to adjust or intercept. With luck, we will catch some of their capital ships and the debris will obstruct their ability to assault our position directly.” Surprised by several aspects of the response, the Captain merely nods once then states, “I shall oversee the transfer of the missiles personally, my Lord.”
To Athin’s surprise, though he expected the request to be fulfilled quickly, the arrival of the bulky orange hovering freighter pulling three massive trailers as the sun was setting on the horizon was unexpected; as was the following freighter carrying three complex looking stands. Black and silver metal is arranged in angular tripods with wide ramps wide enough to support the massive missiles. The pair stop and the door of the lead blocky vehicle opens up and an elderly man hops out with a grace unbefitting his age. He strides over towards the base of the cliff Athin stands upon and calls out, “Where do you want these, my Lord?” Athin surveys the area before speaking loudly enough for his voice to carry, “How long would it take to bury those launchers?” The old man laughs loudly before responding, “My Lord, give my men and I some Correllian whiskey and we will make sure they are buried before the sun rises.” Mildly taken aback, the new General thinks for a moment then sets his features, “Great achievements will be met with great rewards. Make it happen before the moon even touches the horizon and I’ll double the whiskey and even pour the first round myself.” A grin is received in response before the freighter driver turns, “You heard the General! Get the diggers out immediately and pull some holo ceilings from storage. We will place them over top of the buried missile emplacements. Get to it!” Jovial cries of acknowledgement spread through the area and nearly two dozen Sith hop out of or off the freighters, tools in hand as they set to their tasks.
A few hours pass as the blue moon of Korriban rises higher in the sky while the men work to bury the three missiles and their launchers. Banter is thrown about as camaraderie and motivation for their promised reward, with heartfelt chuckles permeating the air as they labored away. Upon the cliff, Athin oversees the efforts as the executive officer approaches and salutes, “My Lord, do you actually intend to provide the whiskey as you promised should they be successful?” The Miraluka does not turn as he lets several heartbeats pass before asking calmly, “Captain, what do you know of my Grandmaster and High Admiral?” The Captain clears his throat, unsure the relevance of the question as he responds, “I know that she is known as the Silver Butcher, renowned for her exploits in the last war. If I remember correctly, the name came from a Mandalorian group that had changed sides to ally with the Sith. Her wrath was overwhelming, as was the trail of bodies left on the planet.” Athin nods slowly several times “Indeed. What you don’t hear about is her tactical ability and the attention she gives to each and every person under her command. To understand one’s subordinates is more beneficial than standard tactics; you know their strengths, weaknesses and what motivates them.” Athin exhales deeply as he looks at the progress made, ahead of the already tight schedule, “A motivated force is one of the most formidable weapons in the galaxy. Even the smallest gesture from a commanding officer to cultivate that is greatly impactful.” Cheers erupt from below as the launch stands begin to lower into their respective holes which were dug in record time. Athin chuckles, turning to face the Captain, “Better make sure that whiskey gets up here quickly or we will have a riot on our hands. I’ll be in the mess waiting.”
True to his word, Athin awaited in the mess and when the Correlian whiskey arrived he set to pouring hefty glasses for the men that were winding their way up the pathway to the top of the cliff. Several members of the kitchen staff pass out the filled cups to the personnel as they enter the temporary mess and move to the open area in front of the long table just in front of the makeshift kitchen. Amber liquid fills up the final cup as Athin tilts a container of whiskey to pour its contents out until the final drops drip from the neck. The remaining filled cups are distributed to the final soldiers to enter the mess as Athin now stands off to the side, somewhat shrouded by a flap of material hanging from above as he gazes upon those gathered with his unique sight. Emotions are varied and visible to the Miraluka; a mixture of apprehension, somberness, joy, anticipation, and determination. Chatter filled the area with more exuberant expressions and some Sith chants peaking throughout the space. After exhaling, Athin steps up onto the larger table and surveys those before him. It takes several moments for those gathered to notice and the chatter dies down as all personnel turn to look towards the General. He clears his throat and folds his hands behind his back before speaking, “I am a man of few words so I will keep this brief. Our enemy is coming with a point to prove after their most recent loss. Can we stop them? I do not know. But what I do know is failure to perform your duty will bring a wrath you have never known; my Grandmaster will ensure that is the case and there is nothing I can do to stop it.” Athin leans down to his right and picks up a cup of whiskey and raises it high then adds in a resolute voice, “To victory, or death.” Just more than a heartbeat of silence hangs in the air until all gathered raise their glasses in unison while a chorus of voices responds in kind, “To victory, or death!” Athin and all those gathered take a long pull from their cups, savoring the quality of the amber liquid within before swallowing.
After a moment, Athin clears his throat and nods once, “Enjoy yourselves, as you have earned it but I expect all personnel to still be fit for battle at any moment.” The soldiers mildly grumble in a joking manner as they acknowledge the order while the Miraluka turns his head to the left slightly and upwards towards the sky on the other side of the tent cloth. The action is followed by an unsettling feeling crawling up his spine and those gathered around him note the far off look, causing the chatter to die down quickly. It takes the better part of half a minute for Athin to realize his drift in focus. Unthinking, he finishes his cup of whiskey with three large gulps, wiping his face with his forearm before hopping from the table. A pureblood Sith First Officer by the name of Vokuthor steps to Athin’s side, “My Lord, your tent has been prepared if you wish to rest. I can look after things here for the remainder of the night.” Athin offers a halfhearted smile, “Thank you. Wake me if there are any issues.” Without waiting for a response, Athin passes through the nearby flap, striding towards the tent designated for him at the center of the compound. The basic cot within offers little in the way of comfort and Athin lays back rigidly. Sleep does not come easily, but the whisky helps due to the man’s lower tolerance for alcohol. In his dreams, a very familiar set of colors fill Athin’s resting mind; Anhiel’s unique aura which he gazed upon regularly flits across a smoking battlefield. An unknown aura of white and gold opposes her, meeting each movement with equal ferocity. The forms are irregular and despite how much Athin attempts to close the distance, they remain the same distance away. Dread fills the man’s heart, causing his facial features to crease tightly until he sits upright.
Before his thoughts can formulate, Athin calls out loudly, “Someone contact the High Admiral immediately!” The order is not immediately acknowledged and he adds with the aid of the Force, “NOW! Or I’ll end you all before the enemy has a chance!” The First Officer breaks through the tent, breathing heavily while wearing not much. “A connection is being established now, my Lord. What shall we say?” Athin looks beyond the man and with a solemn voice and states, “The enemy is here.” Not a moment after the statement is finished, a massive silver dreadnought exits hyperspace followed by nearly a hundred sleek silver vessels. Without a moment’s pause, fighters and bombers stream from the attacking vessels; their sleek forms flitting through space as they move to intercept the Sith naval forces that sat motionless, completely taken by surprise. Exploding vessels fill the sky from the perspective of those on the planet as they look on, stunned. After many moments Athin barks out, resuming command, “Contact the Admiral and advise them to pull back. We are launching the missiles in two minutes whether they clear out or not.” Stunned, the First Officer turns towards the Miraluka, “My Lord?” Though uncomfortable, Athin envisions what Anhiel would do and after a moment he grips his saber with his right hand and thumbs the vibrant blue blade on. The snap hiss is unmistakable and the First Officer salutes quickly, “As you command, my Lord.”
After the message is sent, the remaining Sith forces from the initial space confrontation begin to pull back, too quickly for the order to have been passed on and acted upon. On the planet’s surface, Athin notes the several explosions as the Sith fighters are cut through. With a grimace, the General nods once and all the buried missiles ignite a moment later. The light from the unique compact ion drives fills the area and vaporized dirt rises rapidly from the surface. Sleek black missiles rocket from their launchers, hurtling towards space above. A larger enemy destroyer moves forward, pushing forward to lay fire down on the retreating forces. The first missile breaks through the atmosphere and moments later collides with the bow of the vessel. The bright white light that follows is brighter than a sun and the front half of the vessel dematerializes from the force and heat. The remaining missiles speed past the vessel and target the largest vessels in the vicinity with the same results. Many enemy fighters and lighter support ships are caught in the blasts, temporarily pausing the initial assault. Aboard the dreadnaught flagship, a pair of twins in contrasting outfits of fine black and white watch the holographic display upon the bridge. The one in black looks back towards the armored soldier behind him. “Deploy ground forces to that area and neutralize those weapons. I shall proceed to the archives as planned.” The soldier salutes and turns sharply to set to his task. The brother in white looks over the map and points to a large open area approximately 50 kilometers to the east of Athin’s position. “This area should be suitable to establish a base. It’s position is close enough to what appears to be their headquarters and defenses are minimal at the moment. It should be simple to establish a foothold before they can react.” After turning to his brother, the prince in black states after a long breath, “I shall see you on the other side, brother.” A smirk crosses the brother in white’s face, “Try and keep up, brother.”
The speed and efficiency of the enemy as they deployed ground forces despite the unplanned damage from the missiles fills Athin with more unease. Close range fighters dive towards the planet ahead of troop transports, unleashing golden bolts of light on the surface in aggressive strafing runs. Sith workers and soldiers dive quickly for cover as explosions rock the area. A bottle flashes towards the raised camp area and Athin steps to the side, letting it go by without touching anything. He turns to the Captain beside him quickly, “They cannot land too close to our position, the terrain is not suitable for it. Continue work on the trenches as quickly as possible before they get a foothold.” After acknowledging the order, the officer turns quickly and opens his communicator as he jogs away. A large group of transports fly off towards the east at a high altitude and Athin watches them quietly for many moments while sending silent words towards his friend, “May the Force be with you Joash, my friend.” Many kilometers away, Joash looks through a long range scope from his vantage point atop the cliffs outside the Sith Archives. He gruffs then hands the scope to the commando to his right, “They are bringing more forces than I anticipated. Where are those anti-transport weapons? We need to thin them before they land or we won’t last long.” The commando looks through the scope for a moment then turns to his right, “Private, signal the forward recon units they are weapons free with the MX-24. Retreat is authorized after firing, their positions will be exposed and unnecessary losses will not better our position.”
Joash motions for the commando to follow and the duo begin to work their way down the narrow canyon paths towards a new observation post. It is positioned on a point extending out over the canyon below with the point angled directly towards the open flats where the enemy is anticipated to land. From some outcroppings across the canyon erupt a dozen blue lights, each representing one of four small ordinances that split off from a single larger ejected from each of the three MX-24 shoulder-fired launchers used by the recon group. Blue streams of light wind through the air towards the initial wave of silver troop transports. The front two vessels collide with three of the missiles apiece and fire erupts outwards as they explode. The remaining pieces collide sporadically with vessels that follow which elicits a slight frown from Joash, “I knew that armor plating is quite strong but I still expected more damage to be done.” Smoke trails from three more transports, one streaming heavily with black smoke as it caught more of the missles. It rockets towards the ground and buries its bow into the rock and sand while the other two make controlled emergency landings, most soldiers pouring out quickly with shields raised. After observing the remaining vessels continue onto the anticipated landing point a handful of kilometers away from the crashed transports Joash turns to the commando, “Think the recon units can launch a convincing assault on the crashed transports before they can regroup?” Insulted, the Sith commando scoffs, “They won’t know what hit them.” A simple click indicates a communicator was turned on and the officer states, “All recon teams, new orders. Launch an assault on the downed transports’ location. Do not let those soldiers regroup with the main force.” Mic clicks are received in response, acknowledging the order. Joash grunts as he stands up, “Let’s move to get eyes on the main force. I want to see what equipment they brought with them.”
An hour of hiking down narrow paths cut into the cliff face brings the duo to another protruding ledge with conveniently raised rocks for cover. Several kilometers away the main enemy force continues to land craft which soldiers and equipment disembark in a precise fashion. A forward base is coming together rapidly with regular patrols already established alongside basic defenses. Joash pulls the spotting scope from within his jacket and lays prone, resting the scope on the rock before him to stabilize it. “Where the kriff did they get all of these droids? I have only ever seen organic personnel.” After looking on a bit longer, Joash hands the scope to the commando, “With that many droids, we won’t be able to rely so heavily on overwhelming their will. How are preparations along the ridges coming?” “Nearly all charges are set. We should be able to bring the cliffside down simultaneously.” In the distance, explosions can be heard as the recon teams unleash a barrage of portable artillery accompanied by the last shot from an MX-24 which decimated what ammunition stores that had been salvaged from the wrecked vessels. Joash looks to his right with a raised eyebrow which the commando responds to, “They either wipe the survivors or delay them so long the outcome ends up being the same.” A grin was unexpected as Joash rose, “Either way, we best make use of the time they are buying us.” The elder Jedi’s eyes close and his invisible presence in the Force expands outwards towards the enemy base. As he probes the area, he speaks to the commando by his side, “I sense some level of Force sensitivity from the humans gathered here but it is minimal but that one…” His voice trails off and he points to a shuttle lifting off from the planet’s surface, “That must be their leader. But why are they departing so soon?”
While looking through the rangefinder, the commando offers an answer “I see two options, my Lord. Either their presence is required to address issues in another area or they do not feel our defenses are sufficient enough to cause major delays.” Joash scratches his chin while thinking, his eyes now open as they gaze at the distant base until he states with some deviancy in his voice, “See how many Sith Infiltrators Darth Atroxa can spare and gather your best commandos. We assault the base in the hour before their leader returns.” Though surprised, the commando recovers quickly and rises with energy before saluting crisply, “As you command, my Lord. I shall return quickly with our forces.” After his companion departed Joash leaps down from the ledge, using the Force to slow his descent from fifteen meters above so his legs could absorb the remaining energy. Several angular rocks rise from the ground at varying angles over the kilometer between the Jedi and the rapidly assembled base. After nestling within the cover of one of these rocks Joash closes his eyes and exhales deeply as he focuses his senses on his hearing. He remains hunkered down with perceptions expanded for several hours, the bright hot sun moving across the sky towards the horizon. Just on the edge of his expanded perception, the commando sergeant drops to the ground followed by half a dozen Sith Infiltrators in deep black robes. Joash opens eyes enough to see the group and the motion is seen through a rangefinder by the sergeant and he moves to motion everyone forward but his right hand stops suddenly. Joash lifts a hand slowly, signaling for them to remain in place.
Approximately two hundred meters is a patrol of three droids and two of the Eternal Empire’s organic soldiers clad in the usual golden armor. The pair of organics walk side by side while the three droids are spread evenly behind them. The only noise they make is their rhythmic march; no form of chatter occurs as all heads move from side to side slowly while they assess the area for threats. Metal steps upon the reddish-orange rock of Korriban are distinct and somewhat harsh to the ear and they continue to grow more prominent as the squad approaches Joash’s position. The angle of the rock provides enough cover that the squad does not see the hiding Jedi as they step past. A heartbeat after the droids passed his position, Joash rises in a flash with his ancient saber flashing to life, its blue blade beheading the first droid with a backhanded slash. He pulls his hand back quickly prior to thrusting the saber the middle droid's mechanical eye socket, searing the core within. Quicker than expected, the two golden soldiers turn and thrust their saber staffs forward; the blade from the right catches the left flap of Joash’s trench coat, the left burns across his abdomen as he spun out of the way. Joash’s eyes look towards the last droid quickly then yells out and with an overexaggerated movement of both of his arms sending an invisible wave through the air, knocking the organic soldiers back a handful of meters. Circuits within the remaining droid begin to electrify as the command to establish a connection to the base is initiated. In an instant, Joash lifts his right hand and clenches a fist while he opens himself to the raw Force. An invisible hand grips the remaining droid's head and a scraping noise fills the air as metal begins to compress. With a final motion Joash completes the attack, having imploded the droid's main processing unit, stopping the transmission just before it forms. Without hesitation, Joash turns towards the two remaining soldiers and launches forward. The Jedi crouches, prepping his saber for strike but the crimson blades that protrude for the two men’s chests causes him to pause. As they fall away, two black figures extinguish their sabers while the sergeant steps forwards, “Shall we proceed, my Lord?”
The now squad of eight moved nearly silently towards the makeshift walls of the enemy base, ducking behind cover as needed across the kilometer towards their target. Each person slipped through narrow gaps in the perimeter before moving to shelter by large grey metallic crates. Joash looks towards the rest of the squad then gestures towards a central structure with a straight hand. All gathered nodded in confirmation and began moving forward silently towards what is believed to be the command structure. A hundred meters from their target, the group hungers in what appears to be a barracks that was currently vacant. In a low voice, Joash addresses the squad, “Find their ammunition stores and destroy them. If you can place charges on some air and ground assets without exposing ourselves, even better. I will infiltrate the command center and Force willing, I'll dispatch the commanding officer and take what data I can.” One of the Sith Infiltrators nods once, “As you command, my Lord. We shall rendezvous at the cliffside when it is finished. Shimmers of light cross the figures of the infiltrators as their visage begins to obscure. The effect is greater for non-Force user Sergeant that watched as they nearly disappeared into the surroundings.
Joash waits nearly three minutes for the squad to make distance from his position before he peaks around the corner to check for patrols. Despite his age, the Jedi moves quickly and quietly from his position, darting into a nearby tent. Just inside the flap Joash collides with an unaware armored soldier though the mass of armor causes him to not move much. Awkward silence persists for a handful of heartbeats before Joash lashes out quickly with his right hand, the edge of which glides between the gaps in armor and helmet until it contacts the man’s windpipe. The clatter of metal is loud as he collapses, gripping at his throat though no air can pass through the now decimated airway. After a quick step over the fallen soldier, Joash raises his arms towards the only other person inside the tent. Based on his crisp dark uniform, clean cut black hair, ornate insignia upon his chest and eyes of superiority this was the man Joash was looking for. Immense pressure falls upon the enemy officer, causing him to grimace and struggle in vain. With slow steps, the elder Jedi begins to close the several meter gap between him and his quarry. As he does, he maintains the hold as he speaks in a sinister tone that was foreign to him. “I can see that your will is strong, strong enough that extracting useful information will take too long. But I wonder….” Joash’s right arm moves towards the right causing the pressure to lighten somewhat, allowing the officer to move very slowly with great difficulty. From a rack along the wall, an ornate staff flies to Joash’s hand and upon making contact a deep golden blade extends from the end. “What of your men’s resolve?” The ground vibrates heavily as three consecutive explosions rock the compound. Without thinking, the officer turns in the direction of the noise for a brief moment before noticing the unseen pressure upon him had lifted. Just as he turns back towards the unknown Jedi, the blade of his own saberstaff penetrates his torso, just under the sternum until the slightly wider metal at the base catches on bone within his body. Joash moved with such speed while holding the weapon with both hands he pushed the enemy several steps back outside of the tent where pandemonium ensued. Nearly a dozen nearby soldiers stop at the sight of their commander who is now being lifted into the air by Joash as the spear is lifted vertically until it is dropped, letting the weight of the dying man drive it into the red clay. Joash retrieves his ancient saber from within his robes as he addresses the man a final time, “I shall test their resolve…” Before the sentence finishes, the Jedi’s right leg lashes out to the side with a quick low kick catching the approaching soldier by surprise as they fall to their knees. After turning slightly, a quick thrust of the arm drives the thick blue blade through the soldier’s chest. Groaning and with fading vision, the impaled officer looks down at his soldier to see Joash deliver a kick that sends the dead soldier onto his back off of the saber. Chilling words are the last thing heard before the officer succumbs to death, “But you shall not be here to witness the glory of what is to come.”