II
He sat up next to the pond once he had cleared the crest of the hill. He placed his smoking weapon down next to the calm waters, the effect of his deed boiled in his stomach. He had killed. His mind flicked back to the moment when he had pulled the trigger, the head of his target being destroyed in a flash of light. He remembered that moment of shameful achievement; he remembered causing death in the name of the emperor two times before. He couldn't do this. The sniper pulled his knees up to his chest and sank his head into them. He wept for the terrible crime he had committed.
He was oblivious to the camp alarm ringing out over the hills of the doomed world.
Day turned to night in the sixty four hour day cycle, the man lay on a bed of grass. He stared straight ahead, he heard the sounds of las-fire in the distance. The conflicting thoughts in his mind tortured him, he imagined the emperor was here to spur him on. To tell him to kill these people who simply were defending their culture, even though in reality, he knew that the emperor cared little for him. He wouldn't care if he was to run, would he? He couldn't stand this, he was going insane. He pressed his head into the loamy soil, desperately wishing for enlightenment. When he knew it would not come he cried out in frustration. He sat up, dirt rolling down his combat jacket. He pulled out the large long range vox- transmitter. He extended the aerial, with little care for it's wellbeing, and pressed the set frequency no.1 rune. The sniper pulled it up to his cheek. All he could hear was a voice. An unseen being repeating in low gothic two terrifying sentences,
"Imperial custody lost. The emperor is with you"
He knew this could only mean one thing, he was alone.
He threw the transmitter into the pond. He stood on his shaking legs, taking in his surroundings as he did so. The scene was horrifying, explosions blossomed all across the hills, and imperial ships streaked out through the stratosphere, a feeling of utter abandonment exploded inside him. And for a few seconds all of his other emotions were eclipsed. The sound of the explosions echoed over the landscape, he saw in the distance a starship fall and hit the ground, folding up like a tin can. He stood horrified. Maybe it was the lack of food or maybe it was the magnitude of his peril but something inside him made his brain switch off. Only for a second but it was enough. His eyelids went loose and his mouth opened slightly, his consciousness escaped him and he slumped into a ragged pile on the floor. In his mind his brain began to work melding recent thoughts and subconscious memories into a dream, in his case, he saw flashes of the man he had killed. He pictured a wife embracing the man's body weeping over her husband. He saw the women later in the tent with an auto pistol in her mouth. He heard the bang. And saw the spray the blood onto the interior of the tent.
He regained his consciousness at the sound of the bang. He could hear the explosions in the back of his mind, they sounded echoed and distorted. In a moment of surreal brain flow he heard the whinny of a horse. No it couldn't be. As his mind began to accept images from his eyes his vision blurred into focus. A man stood above him, a rifle pointed down at his body. He shouted something, it seemed unlike his eyes, his ears weren't working at their full capacity as he could still only hear the echoes of his words, he wouldn't of understood them anyway. The man shouted again this time louder and more aggressively, shaking the rifle in his face. As his ears began to tune in he heard the horse again. The sniper wondered if it was a figment of his imagination. The man shouted and gestured for him to stand. He put his hand over his chest and rolled onto it, pushing himself off the floor, as he stood he felt his head pounding. The man shouted again, this time it dawned on the sniper that he wasn't speaking in gothic. He looked around, it seemed to be raining a dirty, thick precipitate that he could feel running down his fatigues. Something caught his eye, a brown stallion, standing magnificent in the thick rain, this was a warhorse. That explained the strange noises. From it's saddlebag hanging amongst bedrolls was a cluster of grenades and a pair of las-pistols. As the sniper looked on in awe the beast flung back it's head and cried to the sky. He remembered beasts like this from his homeworld, Deltoid Destriers roamed the fields of the agri-world in huge herds. He had never been this close to one since he was a child. The rebel seeing him look at the horse shouted to distract him. Suddenly he realised the situation he was in, the enemy was right in his face. It was his duty to remove this man. Before this thought had ended his hand was moving.
The man yelled as the sniper forced the barrel of the las-gun away with a strong grip, with his free hand he launched a punch into the startled rebel's face. The sniper's knuckles slammed into his nose with a crunch, he felt the bridge of the man's nose break under the force which was solidly verified by the man's scream, as this happened the las-gun went off, firing into the earth with the sniper's hand still round the barrel. He pulled his hand away quickly the heat boiling and blistering his palm. Acting quickly he kneed the rebel between the legs knocking him onto the ground. The soldier rolled about in pain cursing under his panting breath. The horse obviously caring little about its rider stood and whinnied once again. He looked at the wretch on the floor, squealing from the pain, he was a stark contrast to his horse who was an entirely different breed of creature. It commanded respect with its dominating presence. He knew nothing about the pair's history but he knew that the horse somehow was the master. The las-gun lay on the floor next to the man. The sniper saw the immobilised rebel reaching for his weapon, the standing man strode over, picking up the rifle on the muzzle end of it's maroon casing, swinging it high over his shoulder he clubbed the defenceless man across the face. A huge gash erupted on his temple, and the man's body went limp. He did not know why the burning feeling of anger could be felt whenever he looked at him. But this was his duty, he thought. That made it acceptable.
