"it's a suicide mission!" the general barked
as he hobbled about the gravity-balanced room. "you're going to your doom!" --a brief pause, a moment of pause--
followed by the thunderous, brave voice of Havannah Apocasar: savior of the stars, guardian of the gas giant Farrier, jewel among the planets of the 10-Pescozola Star System. "if death has us marked," the hero gestured for all to listen, and of course they gathered round, "then let us meet the hooded specter with bold cause in our hearts..." a fire was in Havannah's eyes as he proselytized to those that were present. his speech was long, and full of nostalgia. such is the way one must work words before war. for one to fight effectively, you'll have to forget your future--but only for the present.