Jean stared down the barrel of his rifle, crosshairs perfectly centered on the Scaladorian’s chest as he waited for confirmation from Rodney. He and Monique had crested the ridge of this valley while searching for the remains of an old mining fortress referenced in the records of their home. From what the pair had gathered, the Stygiboran government had relocated the mine after an incident that left it uninhabitable to their kind. The file did not contain specific details of the incident, but the pair of humans were convinced it was caused by environmental factors.
In typical bureaucratic nature, the person who’d declared the site unsafe for survival failed to record the exact location of the fortress. There were a few distinct landmarks that could get them close, but the finding the site would depend on their ability to find a needle in a haystack. Whether by good luck or misfortune, they’d found the most likely site after a few days of searching, but upon arrival, found it already inhabited.
The radio inside his helmet crackled to life and Rodney’s voice came through the speaker. “Jean, we have no positive ID on those Scaladorians. They’ve either been living here for a very long time as deserters, or…”
“They’re here to find out if Took’Sar is using Narax as his base of operations.” Monique finished, the barrel of her own rifle tracking the soldiers as they moved around their camp. It was almost funny; if the pair of humans hadn’t come searching for the weapons and resources that may be present in the old mine, this group would have eventually found the pirates and reported their findings through the proper chain of command.
“From the look of it, they haven’t been here long. Their enviro-bubbles aren’t up, and nightfall is just a few hours away. Either they’re planning to sleep in the shuttle, or their primary focus right now is to build a safe place to sleep.” Jean observed, counting the targets and planning their attack. “We have two options here. Either we wait for them to build the bubbles and cut through the walls while they sleep, or we recreate Chemzone.”
“The safer option is tempting, but having those tents for our men would be very useful while we explore the old mine.” Monique replied.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Jean knew which option she would choose before he offered the choice. When they still lived on Earth, she’d been the tip of the proverbial spear when their organization went after a target. She was never rash, but just because she wasn’t rash didn’t mean she wouldn’t use the front door to kill an enemy.
“Five by five?” he asked, placing his crosshairs on the hardest target on the righthand side.
“Cover as needed, but yes.” She checked the charge on the side of her rifle and followed suit, “Ready to pull.”
“Three, two, one.” When Jean pulled the trigger, the electromagnetic round shot out of the barrel and slammed through the chest of his first target. “Confirmed. Three, two, one.”
The pirates pulled their triggers again and two more enemy soldiers dropped. The high velocity projectile weapons proving their perfection against creatures with exoskeletons. Based on his basic knowledge of physics, the former ecoterrorist knew just how well a bullet could ricochet in the right situations.
“Confirmed. Three, two, one.” Another pair of Scaladorians fell while actively trying to find cover. Jean’s third target only stood three meters away as the second’s chest exploded, sending ribbons of viscera across his uniform. If the pirate king had given him any more time, the third soldier would have recovered from his shock faster and been able to hide. Sadly for him, that was not the case.
“Confirmed. Three, two, one.” With only four targets left of a previously target rich environment, Jean had to be more discerning with his choice. One of his remaining enemies was crouched behind a boulder in what he clearly thought was a safe place to hide. Unfortunately, he’d chosen his cover based on the incorrect assumption that Jean and Monique were at the same elevation. He realized this poor conjecture as the round entered his body just below the armpit of his upper set of arms and found its exit near the creature’s throat.
“Confirmed. Three, two, one.” The pair pulled their triggers a final time and eliminated the last of the raiding party. In a desperate attempt to hide from what was clearly the avenging hand of a god, Jean’s last target rolled behind a metallic crate, only popping his head out of cover long enough to look for the threat. As it turned out, that fraction of a moment was enough time for Jean to place a round in his shoulder carapace.
“Confirmed.” Jean said, sweeping the campsite with his scope once more before finally breaking the weld of cheek to stock.
“All targets silenced.” The French assassin said, refusing to look away from the killing ground while the possibility of more targets remained. “We monitor for five before moving down there.”
