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AN HOUR LATER, IVATA and I looked down into the valley that was two miles over from our encampment. There were a few scattered Phelb camps, smoke rising out of them slowly. I estimated probably no more than five thousand Infantry and two full companies of Marauders. And on the far side of the camp sat three shuttles, unloading fresh soldiers and weapons.
“Any chance we can use their ammunition?” Ivata asked.
“Not without seizing their weapons. And I think they’re blessed with holy water or something.” I replied, looking through my rifle scope. “I think I see their High Priest.”
I stared at him through the optics. He was definitely a high priest; the robes and the throne alone gave it away. He didn’t have many guards, and I felt like a frontal assault might fail, but a little strike and fade might get them riled up.
“What do you think?” Ivata asked me. “Skirt the trees around to the north?”
I looked up at the sky and the position of the moon overhead. Midnight was approaching and based on the information that Peter had given me some time ago, it was close to morning on their home world and it would be Sunday. Church was about to start.
“I’m kind of actually planning to shoot that priest in the face when he stands up to give his speech.”
There was a rustle in the grass and a sigh. “You know, I can see why they gave you command.”
“Really. Why is that.” I stated flatly.
“I guess I just don’t have a bloody mind, sir.”
“Well, we’re not exactly here to raid them. This is our world, after all.” I said with a grin.
“A year of fighting,” Ivata sighed. “I’m getting tired of it.”
“I’m not.” I replied, looking through my rifle scope again. “I’m starting to really have fun with this.”
“Colonel,” He said. “When this is over...”
“Yes, Captain?”
“I would like to formally request reassignment to a training position, sir.”
“You got it, Captain.” I said, then clicked my throat mic. “Position check.”
“Team one in position,” Came Sergeant Kelis. “Ready.”
“Team two, in position, locked and loaded sir.” That was Corporal Bareli’s.
“Team three, ready for action.” Oddly, that was Private Stevens. We found ourselves a little short of non-commissioned officers and now we had a Private leading an entire team. I hoped he was up to it.
I looked at Ivata. “Gold team in position and ready. Be advised, we have overwatch on the beginning of a religious ceremony. Take sentries only, wait for the shot to signal the attack, how copy?”
“Solid Copy, Colonel.” Came back the chorus of replies.
The teams would immediately begin to stealth their way down into the Phelb camp and kill any roving guards or patrols silently. Then when I killed the High Priest, the attack would legitimately begin, and we would crush their forces.
Ivata wasn’t wrong. I thought in brutally simplistic terms sometimes, and it didn’t always work, for example when I attacked the Phelb flagship and killed Davon in the opening hours of the war, I didn’t really think through an opposed boarding or what I would do afterwards, I just went in and killed everyone and thought it through later.
“Team three, two patrols neutralized. In position.”
“Team two, five patrols neutralized, in position.”
“Team one, no hostiles. Moving to position.”
I looked at Ivata. “You want to stay with the Fleet when we break through?”
He looked at me. “You don’t think I’m soft, do you?”
“No.” I said. “I know how you feel about this. I know you’re an accomplished killer, and I also know that you hate every damned minute of it. There’s nothing wrong with having morality, my brother. I just don’t want to be the most ethical corpse in the morgue.”
“I can assist with planning and coordination when I get back,” He offered.
“We’ll work something out my friend.” I looked in my optics again as bright lights came on, and the high priest stood and held his arms to the sky. “But for now...” I squeezed the trigger.
The big rifle bucked against my shoulder hard. This was a bigger, stronger, seventy-five caliber sniper rifle, sending fin-tipped depleted uranium slugs at targets up to five miles away. And I was only half a mile or so from the Priest.
I fired, cycled the bolt, picked the guy in the fancy robes closest to him, and fired again. I fired five shots and killed as many men. Before the priest had even fallen, the lights went out and the area lit up with tracers and automatic fire as the Stalkers opened up on the encampment. I clicked a button the side of the rifle scope and switched to thermal.
Ivata next to me, was looking through a spotter’s scope and called out targets calmly. “Marauder with a rifle in cover, nine hundred yards, two clicks.” A quick adjustment to my scope and I squeezed the trigger. Through the thermal optics, I watched the blood spray from the man’s neck wound, and then shifted my sight to another target.
“Hey, sniper on the ridge,” Ivata called. “Fifteen hundred, wind left to right one click.” I adjusted again, found the sniper and his spotter. I elevated my sight profile slightly and squeezed the trigger, killing both men with a single shot. Ivata sighed. “That was close. Checking for other snipers. No joy.”
I shifted my body, looking for the flickering black and white beacons in the rifle scope that indicated my soldiers. They were advancing swiftly and aggressively through the camp, killing men sleeping in tents, eating in mess halls, standing in their skivvies.
“Let’s go.” I said, standing and hefting the big rifle onto my back and unslinging my carbine. Ivata stood and unslung his own rifle. “Ready?” I asked.
“Ready, Colonel.”
“Good.” We charged down the slope, finding nothing to shoot at except for dead bodies. We trotted through the camp, and found the Stalkers milling around the air field, a couple of stray shots rang out as they ‘dead-checked’ Marauders. The camp was ours, a perfectly executed assault against superior numbers. Four teams of about thirty each had eradicated seven thousand Phelbs in just under eight minutes, without explosives. It showed the power and precision of our forces, on enemies who believed their religion protected them from such things.
They were wrong.
And Ivata hadn’t had to shoot anyone.
“Colonel,” Sergeant Kelis said, snapping a crisp salute. “All personnel accounted for. No injuries.”
Ivata looked at me and raised his brows. “That was impressive.”
“I know, I’m pretty shocked myself.” I said pulling off my helmet. “Status of these transports?” The operators were busy clearing a path through the bodies for Ivata and I, while others were organizing patrols and securing the camp. The smell of blood was so thick on the air that I could barely breathe, and ultimately decided to put my helmet back on to prevent the smell from making me sick to my stomach.
“They’re in flying and fighting condition, sir.”
I glanced at Ivata and tilted my head. “You know,” He said. “I’m starting to believe the rumors that you are insane.”
“I am not crazy,” I replied calmly. “My mother had me tested.”
Even without the comm unit embedded in every helmet I would have heard the roar of laughter.
—-
