CAESAR'S FINEST RIBBONS BY DESERT RANGER CARACAL.
NOTE: THE RITUAL THAT IS DESCRIBED IS NOT A REAL KABBALISTIC RITUAL, AND IS ENTIRELY FICTIONAL.
LOCATION: The town of Beit Lemidah.
DATE: August 3rd 2280.
TIME: 7:00PM.
TEMPERATURE: 79°F OR 26C.
The blue star had become considerably more secure after the Secular Guard had become the primary means of defense for the area, due to their constant vigilance on keeping the Legion out. This was true especially on major holidays when the more religious townsfolk were most vulnerable.
Regardless, what had been forged by Joseph and his fellow rangers was a significantly more powerful militia than what had been created as a hasty means of fighting against Caesar's Legion.
As such, those who lived in the area in the Star considered themselves safe as can be, especially those in Beit Lemidah. Beit Lemidah was the primary center of higher learning for the Blue Star and also where some of the best fighters had come from, alongside where the hardest training was taught.
To those who lived here, they didn't just think warriors and scholars should be mixed, it was also commonplace. As such it was no surprise that most of the guard's fighters were making their way back to their homes late after a day of training and studies. One of whom was the rabbi, who was heading back home after going through a particularly thorough teaching about the parsha of the day.
Tomorrow however was a day the rabbi wasn't too pleased about. Tish'a B'Av was always a dreaded day, especially considering the fear of it bringing more disaster for the Jews who still survived.
The rabbi walked back into his home, the elderly human man making his way to his chair and sitting down in it. He groaned gently as he rested his old bones, thinking about just how things would go tomorrow, the great sorrows brought back into light. The destruction of both temples, the massacres, expulsions, pogroms, the holocaust, the attacks on Jewish communities that happened even after the great war, and other such horrors. Before he could get to resuming his preparations for tomorrow, someone came knocking on the door.
"Rabbi, I need to talk to you as soon as possible."
Came the voice behind the door, serious as can be in his tone.
"And what do you need tonight from me in particular? I'm just an old man, go pester one of the younger rabbis."
He replied, watching the door.
"No, you're not just an old rabbi. You know kabbalah better than any other rabbi here. The Star needs your knowledge of it, or else another disaster will become a part of Tish'a B'Av's legacy."
The voice said, which the rabbi took particular note of. He shook his head gently before speaking.
"Tell me short version what's going to happen, and why you need my help in particular."
He said, continuing to watch the door.
"Certainly. I've seen legionaries on a hill nearby and it seems like they're plotting for an attack on the town tomorrow. Even if they're not, I doubt that they intend to remain there for long without attacking us."
The rabbi registered all this before replying.
"Well why tell me and not the secular guard? I doubt they have any problems with the idea."
He said, thinking that might get who was bothering him to leave. It didn't, as the voice behind the door sighed gently, before replying.
"That's because I want the Legion to know what one of the people here can do. They look down on us as scum, and I want them to see the devastation one of our kind can do if given the chance."
The voice said, to which the rabbi finally stood back up before replying.
"Very well, if you wish to strike them down in Hashem's divine will, I will let you in for the deed."
He said, walking to the door before opening it up. As he let his guest in, he was surprised to see who it was.
The beast of a caracal mutant, Joseph walked in, ducking his head underneath the door frame after kissing the mezuzah, before standing up straight in the rabbi's home. He looked down at the old man as he calmly hung his hat up.
"Now I think you understand that last comment better, regardless I think you know just what I need."
He said, to which the rabbi nodded, beginning to slowly make his way to a back room. The two took their time before entering a special room the rabbi had made for the purposes of meditation. They kissed the mezuzah on the door-frame before entering, as Joseph looked around slowly to see what it had.
The room was definitely of the rabbi's making, with the bookshelves full of old kabbalistic texts, a center rug for the act of meditation, a small area for brewing tea with at least two teapots and a little stove-top, and a drawer with various items in it, alongside an empty metal box.
Joseph stood still as he patiently waited for the rabbi's instructions, the caracal watching the old man go to the bookshelf and take a pair of old volumes off the shelf, both clearly pre-war writings. He set them down on a small table and began reading from the old texts, looking at Joseph about two minutes later.
"Alright, I know what needs to be done. First things first, take off your armor, it's too bulky for what needs to be done. Then remove the rest of your clothing besides your underwear, a set of robes will take their place."
He said, to which Joseph followed as he calmly took every bit of clothing off of him besides his underwear. The rabbi made his way to the drawer, before opening it up and pulling out a set of white robes, passing them to Joseph.
The caracal calmly put them on himself, finding that they fit his form well, and had little restriction to his movement. At this point, the caracal removed his underwear, putting it with his other clothing before waiting for the rabbi's next instructions.
"Take a seat on the cushion, cross your legs, place your hands on your lap, and close your eyes."
He said, to which Joseph followed his instructions, beginning to slowly breathe as the rabbi closed the drawer holding the robes, opening the one above as he took out a fresh blindfold, made of the same white cloth as the robes, but bearing a single word to be positioned above the eyes. המשמיד or The Destroyer.
"I am going to blindfold you, and when you've done that, I will begin brewing something for you to drink, afterwards I recite from the sacred passages of ancient Kabbalah to give you the drive you need."
The rabbi said, blindfolding Joseph as the caracal began to reflect on what he was going to do, thinking about how to strike the legion viciously and destroy them like nothing else.
His eyes covered by the sacred word and clean white cloth meant that he couldn't see a thing. He could still hear and smell clearly though, and he could tell that the old rabbi was brewing a pot of tea as he said he would. He couldn't see the old man putting on Tefillin by the end of the brewing, but the caracal didn't have to see that to understand what was going on.
The ranger waited about ten or so minutes like this, before a teacup was pressed to his lips, and Joseph began to drink from the cup. The tea was strong, bitter, but oddly refreshing.
Joseph needed no convincing to drink the whole cup, he actually liked it after all. The rabbi began chanting soon after the caracal had drank the cup of tea, reciting old words meant to give Joseph what he needed for his destruction of the legionaries on the hill.
The caracal began to feel his senses grow sharper, more powerful, more potent. His sight seemed irrelevant when the tea gave them their peak, as he could easily track the rabbi's every movement with his ears. Soon enough, the rabbi put a box in front of Joseph, opening it up to reveal a pair of ceremonial Sica daggers produced before the war, still as sharp as they were when they were forged. The rabbi gave the knives a blessing, before passing them to the caracal, as he gripped them intensely as he rose slowly.
"Now, go and destroy the Legionaries, make them regret coming here."
The rabbi said, as Joseph nodded, and exited the rabbi's home, going to the hill where ten of Caesar's men would find themselves dead in under a minute.
LOCATION: A hill a half mile from Beit Lemidah.
DATE: August 3rd 2280.
TIME: 8:00PM.
TEMPERATURE: 77°F OR 25C.
The hill that Joseph was heading to was occupied by a small raiding party, meant to shock the town and capture any townsfolk they could for the purpose of making into slaves. Even if the attack failed, it would serve as a reminder that the legion hadn't forgotten about the Blue Star.
The campsite had four tents that held the sleeping bags and items chests of two legionaries each, a simple campfire for cooking purposes, a command tent, a pair of cots and four blankets, two good quality blankets for the heads of the operation, and two poor, ratty blankets for the two slaves.
In the general camp area were eight primes sharpening their machete blades, while two caracal slaves cleaned the tools used to cook dinner, and in the command tent, two Prime Decani were planning their assault on the town.
"Gauis, this plan does look quite solid, but I do have some doubts that using two primes to provide lesser attacks as a distraction would work."
Said one of the decanus, to which the other replied with a laugh.
"Oh Augustus, have you forgotten just how easy to fool these poor kikes can be? Really, the two slaves we have now were easier to capture than expected. Just lure them in with the concept of one of their own in trouble, and they rush to help!"
The other decanus boasted, as the two slaves cringed in reply to a reminder of how they got caught and enslaved a year earlier. Augustus sighed gently before replying.
"Yes, they were easy to capture but at the same time, don't think they're all on the same level of intelligence. Besides, regardless of if we capture any more slaves, this is about striking fear in their hearts and reminding them of our abilities."
He said, as Gaius nodded.
"Well that's why I was chosen, I know fear well, which is why I was given the chance to strike it in the hearts of the townsfolk here. Slaves are just a bonus, but one I and Caesar easily appreciate."
Gaius said, pulling the 9MM SMG off of his belt and giving it a look over, as Augustus couldn't help but give a roll of his eyes.
"What? I take good care of this. Doesn't mean I don't know how to keep my knife in check."
Gauis replied, as Augustus took his machete out and displayed it.
"Your faith in your gun is misplaced, my machete is still superior overall."
Augustus stated, sheathing it before Gaius chuckled.
"Sure, sure. I'm going to take a quick headcount of camp before returning to planning things out."
He said, walking out of the tent as Augustus looked at him.
"Sure thing, just don't lose your head out there. I know you like getting bossy with the slaves at times."
He said as Gaius left the tent. Augustus was looking the map over, thinking of weak spots that he could use to penetrate to his advantage before a bit of shouting came from outside, when suddenly something flew right onto the table. Gaius's head landed there, kicked clean off by some unknown assailant. He unsheathed his machete and ran out of the tent as the two slaves rushed into the tent.
Joseph had crashed into the camp like a cat put among the pigeons, having killed Gaius and four primes already, his knives drenched in the blood of the legionaries. The remaining four primes were horrified. Three of them were barely holding position with their machetes ready, while one of them had cowered back at the entrance of his tent, holding a frying pan and screaming in blinding terror over what was going to happen.
Joseph was standing in bis blood-drenched robes, chanting Hine Ma Tov, even as he lunged at the other primes, killing the cowardly one first by stabbing him in the head, assaulting the other ones by slicing their throats in a single slice with his other blade in the next movement of his.
Joseph looked like a ballerina versed in butchery as Augustus could barely comprehend what happened in mere seconds. His soldiers, and his friend in command were dead in under half a minute by a beast they considered to be only good in chains, one who had been chanting Hine Ma Tov this whole time without any seeming rhyme or reason.
Augustus could only raise his machete in an attempt to attack Joseph before the caracal had lunged into the man, plunging the knives deep into his lungs as he crashed beside the table holding the plans, alongside the slaves who had cowered in the corner.
Joseph watched Augustus die as the last sounds the legionary heard were of his killer chanting Hine Ma Tov, just before the two slaves began singing in kind, realizing one of their own kind had butchered their previous masters. As Joseph stood and slid the blades out of the man's lungs, ending his singing, the former slaves began to sob in joy.
"W-we never thought it wouldn't just be a fellow man of g-d who would rescue us, but also a fellow caracal mutant! We hoped day in day out, and now we're safe! How can we ever repay you?"
One of the two asked, barely able to choke her words out while the other one continued sobbing in delight, unable to speak to Joseph.
The caracal slowly pulled his blindfold up as the tea's effects faded away, sheathing the knives in his robes before replying to the former slaves.
"Don't worry, I don't need anything from you. Consider this an act of Tzedakah for you both. Now, let me remove your collars."
Joseph said, before reaching into Augustus's belt and removing his keys.
The collars came off, and were tossed away as the ranger began leading the two former slaves back into town. When they came into town, the secular guard members who came to them were amazed by Joseph's heroism, though they criticized him for doing something they could have done with less risk. Regardless, they were lead to separate beds, as Joseph was smothered in legionary blood, though the former slaves didn't have a speck of blood on them. Ironically, a miracle for the Blue Star had come on Tish'a B'Av.
LOCATION: Just outside the synagogue of Beit Lemidah.
DATE: August 4th 2280.
TIME: 2:00PM.
TEMPERATURE: 79°F OR 26C.
Just outside of the Synagogue of the town, an NCR ranger squad consisting of several younger rangers, headed by Pablo, an older vulpine ranger was waiting to talk to Joseph.
They'd been told that after his butchery of the camp and his return, he'd been considered unclean and had to be bathed in the Mikve to cleanse him once more. So after his regular bath to remove the blood from his body, and the Mikve bath to cleanse himself in a more ritualistic way, Joseph got dressed and left the Synagogue, walking right into the Rangers before looking down at Pablo once again.
"Been a good few years since we last met, four if I remember right."
Joseph said with a slight grin, recognizing the ranger once again.
"Yes it has. I'm rather impressed you remembered, somehow more impressed than when we came across an already butchered legion camp in the dead of night. We were hoping to capture them and their plans. Looks like you beat us to the punch, at least we got their plans out of it."
The vulpine said, as the other rangers behind him nodded in kind.
"I don't remember that assault in full, from what I remember though, it was a brutal attack I gave."
Joseph said, to which Pablo could only laugh.
"Brutal's an understatement, you butchered that camp so thoroughly I'm surprised their jugulars weren't slit the moment they stepped near town. Seriously though, that was incredible, and also horribly stupid."
Pablo said, sighing gently at Joseph.
"Yes I know, still it ain't like we're knee deep back in Fort Mike again, I still remember that nightmare, as should you."
The caracal said, before beginning to walk away.
"Just one more thing. Before you go into the desert once more, I'd like to ask a final question for the moment. Why did you go without your armor and revolver? You could have done it that way with much less risk, and still done a one man assault."
Pablo asked, as Joseph replied with a small laugh before turning around and answering.
"Easy. I wanted to show them that even with simple blades and no armor, one of us could utterly destroy them with less effort than expected."
The Desert ranger said, before turning back around and heading to the general store, gathering supplies while the NCR rangers left town.
Joseph left as the sun set once more, leaving two former slaves who gratefully got back into their new lives as free Jews, becoming new recruits for the secular guard. The caracal did well, which would be important when Caesar's men really ramped up their war in the Mojave. Every life he saved would be a blessing, and every failure, a viper to face when his darkest hour arrived.