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My Gun, My Goddess
Posted By: Steven Paul<loyf@comcast.net>
Date: 18 February 2005, 4:31 PM
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It's been said that gun's don't kill people, people kill people. I don't believe that for a minute.
Take my weapon. The S2 AM Sniper Rifle. It's more than a gun, it's a piece of art. A thing of beauty. A goddess with a 14.55mm armor-piercing caress.
Guns don't kill people? I got news for you, buddy. Without this baby I'm nothing. I'm the tool, she's the master. An instrument of pain in a symphony of death. I just point and pull the trigger. She does all the work. She provides the magic.
Damn, I love this weapon.
I edge my way to the top of the hill, and scan the terrain below me. Movement near one of the structures. I lift her to my shoulder, place my cheek against the smooth stock. I love the smell of gun oil in the morning. I activate the scope and the 2x setting shows me multiple contacts.
Grunts. Not worth the ammo. But they never deploy alone.
I shift position, four meters to the right. I have a better vantage of the area. It doesn't take long to find him, the guy in command. An Elite. Yellow armor, no less. A commander.
He barks orders, waves his energy sword to make his point. Grunts may not be the smartest creatures you'll ever run into, but they know well enough to keep their distance from that sword.
I crank up my scope to 10x. I have him ranged at 410 meters, and the wind is negligible. A clear head shot. Piece of cake.
I take a deep breath and hold it. Relax the muscles of my arms, adjust my aim. Base of the skull. Perfect. Smooth as silk. I gently squeeze the trigger and let my baby do her thing. Like the crack of Thor's Hammer I release her vengeance.
I see a flash as the slug rips through the Covenant's energy shield. It slows the bullet, but it can't hope to stop it. Just makes a mess. His shield is down. I squeeze the trigger again. His head flops forward, his body falls heavily to the ground.
The Grunts freeze, unsure what to do. The bloody heap before them can mean only one thing.
A human.
A devil.
Me.
I can't help but smile. Damn, I love this weapon.
I catch some movement to my left. A green flash, a barking laugh. Then that sound, like a rocket venting inside your skull. There's only one thing that makes that sound. I roll to my right, clutching the rifle to my chest, allowing myself to tumble down the hill. It saves my life. The top of the hill explodes in a shower of rock and soil. A Covenant plasma pistol, set to overload. Probably one of those damn Jackals.
Stupid. A target presents itself and I immediately take it. A simple bit of recon would have told me I'd stumbled into a nest of Covenant. A hell of a lot more than I can take out with just my S2.
Stupid. Overconfident. Overanxious. Stupid.
I pick up the gear bag I'd left at the bottom of the hill, and make tracks back the way I'd come. I hear the Jackals barking behind me, closing in on my position. Then that guttural laugh again. Another Elite. Probably more than one. Probably cloaked.
Stupid.
I get about 100 meters before I reach the cliff. That damn cliff. Coming down was no problem. An easy slide, maybe ten feet. But getting back up is near impossible. I'll never make it. I'm screwed.
I reach into the gear bag and pull out my transceiver. "Echo 419, do you read? This is LC 21. Echo 419. Anybody out there?"
For a moment only static, then, "That you Brannon? Where the hell you been? You were due at the R.Z. an hour ago. I can't just fly around waiting for your ass. We've got incoming signals reported up..."
"Foehammer, shut up and listen. I need evac. Right now. I found those signals of yours, they got me pinned down."
"Hang on a sec. Got ya. Be there in seven minutes."
Seven minutes. What I have is seven bullets and two grenades. What I don't have is seven minutes. Things are going to get real interesting, real fast.
From above me I hear them, getting closer now. Working their way down the hill. Getting their nerve up. I duck behind a boulder, my back to the cliff. It's not much in the way of cover, but it's all I've got. I raise the rifle, scope on 2x. These bastards are right on top of me.
The first one appears. Not because he's the bravest. I catch just a glimpse of the Elite who shoves him out from behind a group of trees.
It's a Jackal. He immediately crouches into a defensive posture, his shield held before him. He's too scared to even power up his weapon. I know he's just bait, trying to lure me out, reveal my position. But I don't care. I have nowhere to run, and they'll figure that out real quick.
I target his hand, flip the scope to 10x. There's a small gap in the shield there. Just a few centimeters, but more than enough for my baby to do her thing.
The shot passes clean through his stomach. The Jackal falls dead. There's a moment of silence, then an eruption of barks and screams. Damn ugly language them Covenant have.
A wave of Grunts appear, charging down the hill. At least a dozen. Where in hell did they all come from? I toss a grenade, send body parts flying. Still they come. I see one pull a plasma grenade from his belt. He activates it, pulls his arm back to toss it.
I lob my last grenade and it rolls to a stop at his feet. He freezes, stares at it.
Idiot.
His grenade explodes in his hand, tearing his head off at the shoulder. Then my grenade takes the torso apart. What's left slumps to the ground.
I hear a roar above me and see two drop ships appear. I didn't just stumble across a random landing zone, this is a major Covenant assembly area.
For a brief moment, fear overcomes me. Like an icy fist clutching at the pit of my stomach. I can taste it.
And it sickens me.
I'm better than that. That's not who I am. I won't let weakness control me.
Then it passes. Fades, as if it were never there.
I could lie to myself, say it was the training taking over. Or my raw guts in the face of an overwhelming enemy. But I know the truth.
I'm not afraid of dying. No soldier is afraid of dying. What a soldier fears is those he leaves behind. He fears the pain and sorrow that will follow his loved ones forever. The pain and sorrow that will always be attached to his name, to his memory.
But I have no one. No family, no true friends. No one back home who'll watch the KIA reports and break into sobs when my name rolls past.
And where there should be sadness, I feel only strength. Instead of pity, clarity. I'm right where I should be. This is my purpose. This is my place. My life in exchange for the lives of hundreds. And really, isn't that what we all want? To look back and know that your life meant something? That you made a difference? It's here that I can make that difference.
I grab the transceiver. "Echo 419, this is Brannon."
"I'm almost there, hang on," came the reply. "I've got you on my scope. We'll have you home and..."
"Negative. Negative. Pull back. We've got a level one threat here. Heavy troop assembly."
"Level one?"
"Contact NAS. Order a full scale bombardment of this area. Now!"
"I can't just..."
"Do it. We got 'em, Foehammer. We gotta hit 'em right now."
"Just hang on. I'm almost there. I'm not leaving you behind."
"Damn it, Captain, check your scopes. You'll never make it out alive. Get out of here and contact base."
Silence.
"Foehammer, do you read? Think about it. Carol, are you listening to me?"
More silence, then, "Echo 419, heading back to base. Give 'em hell, Marine."
Good girl.
"Copy that. Do me one favor, huh?"
"Name it."
"Make sure these Covenant bastards don't walk away from here."
"Count on it. Foehammer out."
The reinforcements from the drop-ships are coming down the hill now. I check my motion tracker. It's a sea of red contacts. If there was even a remote chance I could have made it out of here alive, it's gone now. But my work's not done. I need to keep these creeps occupied. Let them think they've got a real fight on their hands. Keep them here, focused on me.
Just a few more minutes. Just long enough to let Air Strike do their thing. Then the skies will open up and hell will pour down on these bastards.
I have six bullets left. I make them count.
Five shots, five dead Covenant. One bullet left.
An Elite appears, moves in. He takes it slow. Cautious. I let him get real close. Let him buy me the time I need. I'm in no hurry. I've got a special treat for him.
He gets within three meters of the boulder. I can smell that sickly sweet hide of his. He's not sure exactly where I am, so I decide it's time to introduce myself.
I step from behind the boulder and shove my rifle in his face. He hesitates, steps back, stares down the barrel.
From 500 meters the S2 rifle is a terror. From point-blank range it's just downright nasty.
I let him see me smile. Let him see his own death reflected in my cold eyes.
Let him taste fear.
I pull the trigger. One last time. My baby responds with her crisp retort, a final deadly caress against my cheek.
My gun. My goddess.
Damn, I love this weapon.
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