Six
A Messenger
Based on when Martouf's intell told him he would have circumstantial favour, he had made timed runs throughout the fort. It took a great deal of time to reach the gate room and keep from being seen and the effort was taking its toll. His feet were aching and countless grazes covered the patches of skin where his clothes had been torn on sharp corners.
Now pressed against a dark wall Martouf stood rigid. He managed to stifle a panicked choke for air and rested his head back.
Over 50 paces away the DHD stood in the centre of the grand hall, framed by the gate placed a further 15 back. The hall itself was broken up by a myriad of passages, so once he stepped out there would be no cover.
Ten invaders sentinelled on both sides. In a matter of seconds they would turn and follow those passages to be met by their replacements.
He listened to the first one walk away. He held his breath, he could not move until he knew more were going. A few painful seconds passed until the next moved. Footsteps slowly becoming more distant. He snuck a glance and found the ones closest to the gate still standing in place looking as though they would never leave. He crept out towards the closest post. By the time he made it there the next few had disappeared without noticing him so he continued.
A few more posts became unguarded. As the first replacement walked in by the main entrance, Martouf shot him and caught his body before it hit the ground.
Martouf stalked forward taking out the next, who was much further ahead, in the same manner. The others could not hear him move straight away, nor could they see him against the dark background. By the time the next two of them fell he was a third of the way there and ran for it.
Shots singed his clothes from everywhere as he ran in a warped zigzag trying to take out more guards. In front of him one ran out and tripped him over with a staff. Martouf's shoulder cracked against the floor and he rolled himself onto his side. The sentry kicked away his weapon, but as Martouf got up in a fluid motion he knocked away the staff and punched the guard unconscious. He stepped aside in time for a blast to strike his opponent in the chest, and dealt the shooter one to match.
In sprints and cart-wheels he made it through the crossfire onto the platform, dived through the inactive gate and slid around on the floor to use it for cover, firing with the other zat. Frustratingly, he could see the remaining five sentries slowly approaching although he was continuously firing on them.
With a cry of rage, Martouf ran out and rammed into the closest of them, knocking him clean off his feet. His eyes burning blue hot locked onto the rest who skidded into formation around him.
"What! you think I'm going to surrender now that you've wrecked my outfit?" he scoffed in a booming voice and in the blink of an eye shot two of them.
The next dared to shoot him in the left shoulder and not a second later lay among the bodies on the floor. Martouf stepped over them and took care of the one he'd knocked over as the last guard fled down a passage.
No time to spare, Martouf dialled and ran through the gate.