Breaking Ranks

Samantha: The Witch

The first shot was a beauty, the drone dropping straight out of the air. I chambered the next round and shifted slightly to bring the second into my scope. I watched as it arced through the air, a gradual and consistent pace that saved battery power while providing a steady video feed. The only problem was that it made the flight path predictable.

I breathed out slowly and gently squeezed the trigger. The second drone fell. I checked my rifle's ammo. 14. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. I berated myself for not grabbing spare ammo from Potter when I had the chance. But that wouldn't have been enough either.

The Empire would never stop searching for me, I knew. But I could make the cost unacceptably high. The Empire had no shortage of enemies, and what was the point in hunting down one deserter? Or so I thought. I stayed motionless, the tree branches rustling around me. They could fill the whole damn forest with drones but I figured I could take down at least another dozen. Potter may have been a better shot but I was no slouch either. I thought I saw something, light reflecting off of something black in the distance.

I looked through my scope again and saw a black shape silhouetted on a ridge line. That was exposed, much too exposed. I stared through my telescopic sight and made out the lieutenant, still helmet-less as if to make it absolutely clear who it was. With exaggerated slowness he raised the middle finger of his left hand as though he knew I'd be watching. And then he turned away and left.

Yeah. Same to you, buddy.

***

The deer dropped all of a sudden. I checked the count again, though I already knew what it would say. 13. It was wasteful to use on a deer but my rations had run out yesterday and I had spent most of that day and this one walking. I knew I'd have to get myself a bow and some arrows, or the like.

I stalked toward the corpse, my knife drawn. In my medical training there had been a brief discussion on skinning and butchering animals but I was pretty sure I'd make a mess of things. Well, practice makes perfect.

I looked at its antlers for a while. Maybe I should just go full native and deck myself out in furs. And wear a headdress. Well, why not? It wasn't like there was a uniform code I had to follow any more. I squatted by the fallen deer, taking in the scenery. The coppery smell of blood, the withered trees that grew by the stream, and the thin mist in the air. I tried to recall my studies on the geography of the Outer Rim and I had the suspicion that this might be one of the engine's venting areas. That could explain the bubbles and steam rising from a nearby pond. But... was that a voice?

"What was that?" A man's voice asked.

With silent movements I stalked over to a nearby tree and peered around it. I didn't need my scope to see who had said that. There was a group of four bandits walking in this direction. One of them was hauling a string of captives along by rope, maybe another four adults and a couple kids. Bandits by their nature are a curious folk and they must have wanted to see what produced the loud noise.

I crouched there, motionless, waiting as they continued to approach. It didn't look like they'd be leaving any time soon. The nearest bandit, a man with a drooping blond mustache, placed careful step after careful step forward. He was heading directly towards me. Well, there was nothing for it then.

Crouching against the tree, I slowly raised my rifle and braced it against the trunk. I kept my breathing calm and unhurried as I brought the reticle to bear on his chest, just a hair to his left side. I squeezed the trigger on the exhale, and the man seemed to pause for a moment as if lost in thought before slumping to the ground.

"Eh?" another bandit asked, several meters behind the man, swiveling his head left and right. "What was that? Avers, you alright?" Another shot resounded and this man fell as well. Behind them the two other bandits ran, splitting in opposite directions. One of them was slowed by the string of captives he was hauling behind him, and he paused to yank and snarl at them as they bumped against each other. This time my shot wasn't clean, but left him yowling in the dirt. The captives quickly worked out their differences and the bumbling mass ran away through the underbrush. I doubted they would stop for anything.

My eyes flitted about, looking for the last bandit who had ran off into a grove of trees. I saw distant movement, but that was it. I waited here for some time, and I had the feeling he was doing the same. Bandits could be damned determined at times. At least we both had the drawn-out groaning of the dying man to keep us both company. Still, I had better put an end to the bandit. The one still skulking in the woods, not the one bleeding out. His screams could help cloak my movement.

It took some time to work my way over to where I thought the man was. I had taken a wide swinging path, crossing the stream twice as it bent around, and stepping lightly through the underbrush until I made it to the copse of trees in a great rush. I padded forward from tree to tree, taking my time as I went, and by the time I found the man the screaming had died down.

The last bandit was behind the tree, looking from the other direction. I thought I could almost hear his teeth chattering as I stalked forward in silence. I came at him from behind, my combat knife at his throat before he realized it. I pulled him close, the flat of my blade hard against his throat.

"Gragh," he said. The man smelled of fresh urine. "Who-" he attempted. "Who the hell are you?"

"The witch of the swamps," I whispered in his ear. I pushed him away, and then gave him a solid kick in the ass that sent him sprawling forward.

"Go tell all your friends."

The bandit stumbled up, not looking back, half crawling and half running through the swamps. I don't know how far he went like that but I watched his progress for a while through my rifle scope. I lowered it finally and realized that I had been grinning all the while. Ah, but the lights were low. For some reason they seemed lower than normal in this sector, which suited me just fine. Even so, I better get about making myself shelter. And some crops, I mused, as I walked around the swamps for a good spot. I could grow some herbs as well...