Farquaran Jungle

Sniper Post

1405 hours, GST

The blaster bolt got Periun in the neck, just under the jawline.

Headshot heard a loud grunt of pain, but didn't wait to see his target fall. Immediately, he slid down from his perch in the tree, ejected the ammo from the sniper and into his decee sidearm, and ran.

He didn't stop for roots, leaves, or even small animals in his way, he just ran. Stang, he had left his helmet in the tree. If they had found his position yet, they would know it was a clone who had hit them. Oh well, he thought. By the time they were reorganized, he would be back at the base. Or he hoped.

Behind him, the whirr of speeder bikes told him that the Farquarans were looking for him. He thought that was good. Tracking him would lead to them not putting as much force into the attack. And, according to the database on the Farquarans, they didn't have the next highest rank fall into command once their leader was dead; they just retreated. So, he felt he was in the clear.

Headshot raised his hand to the earpiece Grizzly had him take when he left. He tapped it, sending a call to the command center, Lion, and Joss. As he ran, he waited for a response. Lion was the first to answer.

"Headshot?" the temporary lieutenant asked, his voice seeming irritated. "Has the target been neutralized?"

Just say killed, will you? Why did being in a higher rank make troopers want to use an overly excessive amount of euphemisms? He didn't know.

"Yes, sir," he replied, halting. It was easier to talk if he was still. "I haven't got confirmation he's dead, but he's down for sure." He heard him grunt on the other end.

"Good. I'll notify the commander that you're on your way," Lion said. Then the comm went dead.

The whirring of speeders came back to his ears, and if he began to run again, he calculated they were too close not be noticed.

He decided to hijack a speeder. That was something Chit-Chat would want to see, he bet.

He clicked the safety on the sidearm off, and held it in a ready position. He narrowed his eyes as the vehicles came closer, and closer...

Three speeders flew by, sending clods of dirt and broken wood into the air. In one fluid motion, Headshot had aimed and fired the DC-17, knocking a Farquaran off the second speeder. He ran forward, training overtaking all thought. The riderless speeder slammed into a wurok tree and caused a magnificent explosion. The other two spun around and charged him, targeting him with the speeder's mounted cannons.

Headshot ducked as they passed by, and then righted himself and ran at it. He jumped onto the tail of one of the bikes and grabbed the pilot in a headlock.

The soldier struggled in his grip, and jerked his head back to head-butt him. He heard the crack off bone- his, unfortunately- and turned in a wide arc.

Blood trickled down from Headshot's nose to his lip and he muttered a curse. He pulled the arm he had taken the Farquaran in and heard a clean snapping sound. The enemy slumped over, and Headshot flung him off the speeder and into the lush forest floor. He slipped into the pilot's seat.

I've got about one second to learn the controls...

He pushed the joystick he decided was for steering forward and it propelled towards the last bike. The pilot turned around, a pistol in his hand.

Both hands on the stick, he thought sarcastically. Shooting and driving is against the law, chump.

He dodged the incoming laser bolts and held down the button on the joystick and fired the cannons. They missed, hitting some trees. Gritting his teeth, Headshot pushed ahead and felt a thump. He quickly glanced back and saw one of the stabilizing fins on the tail of the speeder had broken off. He must have knocked into a tree. He narrowed his eyes, wishing he had his bucket. Things would be so much easier. He fired once more, this time lowering the speeder closer to the ground so he could hit the fins. The bottom of the vehicle nearly scraped the ground. He fired, yellow blaster bolts whizzing past him and halting as they hit their targets. He heard a cry from the pilot as his speeder went spinning out of control, and eventually hitting the ground. He barely dodged the resulting explosion.

He reached the base within the next ten minutes. By that time, the speeder had been trailing a thin line of smoke from where he had lost his stabilizer. He approached slowly. He didn't want to provoke the base into firing. He had heard accounts of friendly-fire from Geonosis, and none of the tales were pretty.

Patrolling on the wall of the base was Joss, Sev, Six-Two, and Juol. He transmitted a SURRENDER signal from his bike to make sure he would get in, alive.

His sergeant watched the speeder warily and raised his forearm in a signal to prepare to fire. Headshot transmitted a message to him, saying tha was indeed him and not a Farquaran. He waited a few moments and then saw Joss tap the base's gate controls to open the plasma blast-doors.

Good, he thought, relieved.

He steered his bike into the depot, where the combat engineers had brought their midday meal out from the mess hall to eat while they worked on the Farquaran technology. At the moment they were inspecting the Juggernaut tanks, heavily armored skiffs with a closed cockpit and a massive cannon placed on top of it. Niner, who was just stepping out of the hatch, saw his damaged speeder and waved.

"Hey, Headshot!" the sergeant called. "Park that over here and get inside and get some food into you," he ordered, and Headshot gratefully complied. He halted the bike a few meters from the tank and stepped off, wiping his brow. Without a bucket or the carefully climate controlled base, it was humid during the day on Farquar. He nodded to Niner and entered the base, heading through straight for the mess.

His meal was quick; Commander Grizzly had ordered to see him once he returned, and he was growing later by the second. Headshot went to the lift and made his way to the command office. The doors parted, and he saw Grizzly drumming his fingers on his desk. He blinked as the trooper came in, and stood. "So, you made it," he said. "I take it Periun is dead?"

"Not confirmed, sir," he admitted. "But I do know I got him in the neck."

Grizzly narrowed his eyes. "Then he probably is. Dismissed," he commanded gruffy. He went back to his desk and picked up a datapad. Headshot gave a salute, then turned and left.

The barracks were deserted when he came, only a few men from Bravo squad playing cards in a couple of bunks. He found his and lay down on top of the sheets. His eyes closed, but he didn't fall asleep for a long while. This mission had tired him out, and killing someone who could attempt to kill you back didn't sit well with him for some reason. He convinced himself that that was the brutality of warfare. It took time until he was finally at peace. Then, he slept for a long while.