Kristófórus "Kris" by his battle brothers was viewing the landscape through the scope of his Mark eight "Silent Killer" needle rife. Kris had affinity with being a sniper of the Space Wolves chapter of the Legion Astartes. He was his happiest when the assignment was to go forth and disrupt the enemy as much as possible, no limitations, and no constraints. He was wolf but more of a lone one, a unique trait among his kind.
Today he was not alone and this did not make Kris happy. Today he was part of a four-man scout squad; at least it was four men when it started. A stray mortar round from only the Emperor knew where, mortally wounded one of his team. Now having done their duty, the group was on their way back to meet with what remained of their Space Wolf contingent. Perturbed by the death of one of his brothers, Kris inwardly spoke to himself; "…This is why I like to be alone…"
First Sargent Halmi noticed his brother's discontent; "There was nothing you can have done Kris. We had to move through the main battle lines or else risk to much time lost." Halmi said the words, but he knew that he too despised the loss, but as always the mission came first. Gunnfarðr "Gunn", plasma rifle in hand spoke his peace "At least we got the bastards good", a small wry smile appearing in the dense growth of mustache and beard as he spoke. "Aye, so we did" abating some of the disgust in the mind of Corporal Kris. All was forgotten when Kris spotted the Ork.
"Brothers, we have a contact." Years of fighting countless enemy contributed to an almost monotonous calm as Kris made the report. His brothers huddled in the ruins of this once thriving village had given their complete attention to Kris' next obvious statement. "10 meters left of the smoking hamlet." Now all scopes were fixed to eyes. "A lone Ork?" said Gunn. "Must have got separated…we could hope" added Gunn. "We best be sure," Halmi said with strained concern. They all knew that 3 men, even Space Marines in light scout armor, would not fair well against a reasonable concentration of Ork.
Kris had the Ork in his sights. His trigger finger off resting off to the side, waiting. His Mark 8, was the latest in sub-sonic sniper weapons. Its armor piercing round was self-propelled, as the gun made adjustments to the rounds velocity compensating for local atmospheric conditions and effectiveness. The gun worked at being quiet but also worked at being deadly and now it had a target.
"Should I take the shot?" said Kris. "No, let's see where it goes" said Halmi. Kris' slightly flared nostrils were a small indication of further disgust. "We can't risk being spotted as much as I would like to avenge our brother's death further," concluded Halmi. The Ork was staggering as if he was drunk. "The lust of blood this one has," Gunn said coldly. Then the Ork stopped as it began to cross in front of the smoldering building. Then with a turn and a single motion the Ork let fly some debris of what was once the building. It reached down pulling something out of the wreckage, and as the Marines recognized the small profile of a child, a new feeling of tenseness wracked the group.
"Damn," muttered the First Sargent. The Ork hefted the child with one arm as the other arm raised it's large crude but all too deadly weapon. Against all judgement First Sargent Halmi of the Space Wolves chapter of the Legion Astartes spoke a command "Take…" but never got to finish "…him." The mark 8 rifle sounded like the blowing of air from a playful lover's lips as it discharged it's deadly round. Kris knew he had to aim high to not risk hurting the child as the mark 8 had the penetration even through most Ork armor. When the Ork dropped the young-one, Kris knew he had found his mark.
