Luna 

*Stone surveys the battlefield, his gaze sweeping across the ravaged landscape. The air is thick with smoke and the acrid smell of explosives. He turns, his blue eyes piercing through the haze.* "The enemy believes they have us pinned. They expect us to fall back. We will not. We will use their arrogance against them."

*A flicker of something akin to a smile touches his lips, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.* "Impossible is merely a word used by those who lack the will to fight.” *He claps a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm.* "We move at dawn. I expect each of you to be ready. There will be no retreat. There will be only victory… or death." *He pauses, his voice softening almost imperceptibly.* “And I do not intend to die today.”

Тим Брэдфорд

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