Preacher Man
The sky over Hera was filled with smoke; the stars could not be seen. That didn't bother him at all. He never really thought about the sky or anything beyond his battle tactics. It was easy for him; the browncoats had almost no force to speak of now. It was pathetic that it had to get to the point where they had to ask him though. The rebels should have been squashed easily.
"Commander! The skiff is reporting fire from one of the anti-aircraft emplacements." A second lieutenant reported as he ran into the bunker. The room was well lit and gleamed off of the gray walls. At the front of the room was a small window where all the fighting could be seen, the seal on it was good but you could still smell the smoke and decaying bodies in the room. At the center of the room was the only piece of furniture, a small table with a tri-dimensional hologram of the battlefield. The man that stood before it was of medium height and build with graying hair that he kept cut short. A look of satisfaction was on his face. Only one Negro had ever made it to Special Commander of Alliance Forces, he felt honored to be in the man's presence.
"Good, they are showing themselves. Tell artillery to target that position, I want a crater there." The man said in his steady and deep voice. It was always calm; he never believed that being loud was necessary.
The lieutenant activated his comm. and sent the orders the man had given him. A voice came back, "Sir, we just picked up a transmission. The Independents have called for a fighter squadron to give them air support. Should we call in the cruisers?" the voice cut out and the lieutenant waited for the response. The commander was as passive as ever, until a bright glow from the window forced him to shield his eyes.
"Ai ya! Call for the cruisers, we just lost our last skiff!" The lieutenant shouted into the comm.
"Belay that! We will catch the fighter squadron by surprise." The commander ordered but it was too late. Whether the man on the other side of that communication device had acted without orders or had just moved very quickly the cruisers were coming down. They had already entered sensor range, the Independents would surrender and his crushing victory would be stolen from him. His face contorted with anger, in an instant his sidearm was out of the holster and a single bullet entered the skull of the lieutenant.
The gun fell from his hand and clattered on the gray floor that was now taking on a red color.