18: Sniper Town

It was mid-morning in this particular region of Dalabrai. It was also overcast and raining, which placed a seemingly appropriate damper upon the whole location. Beyond the old warehouse in which resided the stargate, the countryside beyond was almost picturesque, or would have been were the rain not coming down in a steady stream. Dirt and gravel roads wound their way past overgrown hedgerows and open fields, albeit fields that had become marked with craters of varying sizes. The road into the town of Blaskane was littered with the destruction of the ongoing conflict, with burnt out vehicles parked off to the sides of the roads at numerous points. A crashed makalvari fighter was in a field off to the left, little more than an empty hulk of twisted and scorched metal. Normally, such a fighter would have a sleek V-shape to it, although such a form was indiscernible through the wreckage.

Those who may have died along this road had since been cleared away. Ahead, the first houses of Blaskane became apparent, all traditional brick and mortar structures that suggested the town had been established a long time ago.

John saw the houses ahead, and beyond them the taller and mostly grey structures of a more tightly packed central district. There was the odd tower visible against the grey sky, with the one nearest looking to be part of some kind of church-like structure. Trudging along the soaked gravel road, John and his team were led into the outskirts of the ruined town, with few intact houses to be seen. Most were damaged in some way, entire walls and sections of roof having been blasted away in the fighting. Some were completely burnt-out shells, reduced to short, broken walls and the bare foundations. Piles of fractured masonry and twisted steel littered the streets.

Captain Kav'rak was at the front of the group. John followed closely behind, with Jonas and Natalia coming up the rear, Aithris trailing a few paces behind. John had an M14 EBR slung around one shoulder, fitted with a low-magnification scope. Natalia carried an AK-103, which used a similar powerful cartridge to the M14 (albeit the Russian version of that round). All reasonably good longer-range weapons, something that John had thought would be useful on this outing. As for Jonas, he had a Steyr AUG bullpup slung about one shoulder.

John had, for a while, figured Jonas to be the kind of man not at all keen on shooting things. However, he had learned in short order that Jonas, despite coming across as a light-hearted sort, had also seen his fair share of fighting. A lot, in fact, seeing as how his home-world had fallen under Ori control for a time. Jonas had made a name for himself leading a resistance group, presumably using the tricks he had learned from his time in SG-1 a few years before that to operate that group with better efficiency than most. And yet, he was still a scholar by nature, much like Daniel. He was burying himself in books just as often as Daniel was, if not more seeing how Jonas had little else to do when stuck in the SGC. This would have to be his first proper outing in some time, and it was straight into a warzone. If he was at all put-out by this fact, he did not show it.

Aithris watched their rear. Like the others, he was packing a rifle, specifically a SCAR-H, and despite the sturdy weight of the powerful rifle he handled it with an ease John was almost jealous of. Seeing the Nomad in action was often an awe-inducing sight, for he displayed a finesse that John had seen from few others. Aithris had been training with just about every weapon under the sun since he had been a child. It was his way of life, in his blood even. And yet, he came across as an otherwise gentle individual. John had rarely seen him angry, and the last time had been on Sanctuary when it had become apparent that the Nomad leader, Overseer Torrant, had betrayed his people to side with the Void Demons. In that case, such anger had been perfectly understandable. Regardless, having Aithris in the team was a godsend, really. John could not have asked for a better squad mate.

"Keep low," Kav'rak said, as the team rounded a bend and entered the town proper. "Snipers abound here."

"Snipers?" John looked down the street ahead, to the rubble and the broken shell of the large two-floored house right at the end of the street.

"Calsharan marksmen," the makalvari Captain stated. He motioned for them to move to the right, into the shadow of the brick house there. There was a right-hand corner ahead, which lead onto another street, with a dead-end circuit at the far end and a left turn just before it.

"Or markswomen, as from my experience, a lot of their scouts are female. I suppose because they're lighter on their feet, I don't know?" Kav'rak added this little fact with a shrug, which John supposed was a universal gesture. "Regardless, we need to get across this town. That means we will need to be methodical."

"Don't you have people here?" John asked him. Standing in the shadow of the old brick house, they were in relative safety. Something told John that as soon as they moved past the corner ahead, that would change.

"Some scattered squads. The largest force we have here is engaged in a flanking action north of the town. That should draw most of the Calsharans from our path."

"But not all of them," Natalia said, speaking what was on everyone's mind. Kav'rak nodded in the affirmative manner. In an urban setting such as this, snipers could be anywhere. Too many places to hide, too many little holes to poke their guns through and too many high vantage points to provide a wide and long field of fire. John had seen this kind of thing in the past, especially in Afghanistan. Urban warfare was often a brutal and vicious thing.

There was a sudden and deafening roar overhead, and all heads looked up as a makalvari fighter came swooping in low over the street. It was pursued by a Calsharan fighter, one of the familiar chevron-shaped black-metal sorts, and this craft was hot on the heels of the other. Plasma cannons fired errantly, powerful blue bolts zipping past the makalvari fighter. Some hit the road nearby, blasting smoking holes into the surface. And then, almost as quickly as they had come, they were gone, shooting off skywards and into the south.

For the makalvari pilot to be flying so low, he must have been desperate to lose his pursuer. John's gaze returned to ground level. He motioned for Aithris to check the way ahead.

"Do you have any idea where SG-21 are?" John asked Kav'rak. When they had emerged from the stargate inside the old warehouse, none of the soldiers present had known anything about SG-21 other than the fact that they had arrived through the stargate hours before. They had gone on into the town, certainly, but no one seemed to know anything more than that. The whole team could be dead for all they knew. Looking around the ruined town now and considering the kind of dangers it presented, John would not be surprised if that was what had happened.

Aithris stopped at the corner of the building. Readying his rifle, he peered around and took a look down the street, his keen violet-hued eyes searching the road ahead for any sign of the enemy. None became apparent, and he motioned back for the team to follow.

Suddenly, something struck the wall near Aithris, blowing out a chunk from the brickwork. An audible crack joined it, and the Nomad stepped back into cover. He raised a hand to signal the team to halt.

"Shooter in the window, house on the left." He motioned towards a two-floor building across the road, after the corner. His eyes were sharp, for he had picked out the smallest trace of a muzzle flash before he had ducked back from the line of fire.

"What kind of weapon was that?" Natalia asked aloud. It had not been a plasma rifle, certainly not of the typical Calsharan variety.

"A Calsharan marksman rifle," Kav'rak replied. "It fires a very concentrated and accelerated bolt of energy. Leaves little to no vapour trail, so it won't give away the shooter's position. Also, very good at punching through armour, but the power packs can only fire a handful of shots." He paused, teeth baring in a wry smirk. "Not that this matters, since the packs are so small and light someone can easily carry dozens of them."

"Can you get him?" John called to Aithris.

"I can, but I'll need cover." Aithris sounded confident. John knew he could rely on the Nomad. However, 'cover' in this case suggested someone had to draw the sniper's fire. John was not about to risk anyone else on that task. He looked to the end of the street, specifically to the left where a completely bombed-out house was located. There were still a few low walls standing, and if he could get behind them he would be covered. He simply had to distract the sniper long enough for Aithris to get his shot.

"I'll draw his fire," John announced. The others looked at him with some befuddlement, save for Aithris who simply cocked one hairless brow, only to nod in acknowledgment of the plan.

"Isn't that a little reckless, Colonel?" Natalia asked him.

"Any better ideas?" He countered. No one answered him.

Aithris positioned himself by the corner, ready to swing out and take aim. John started across the road, heading roughly diagonally such that it took him clear of the corner and into the sniper's field of fire. He saw the window Aithris had been referring to, situated on the upper floor of a rectangular house that appeared mostly intact. He thought he saw a shape at the window, a vague silhouette, but he started running at that point and so did not allow himself a better look. He darted across the road as fast as his legs would allow, almost stumbling on the piled rubble near the ruined house ahead. He heard the rifle fire when he was two-thirds of the way and he winced, an involuntary action on his part. Thankfully, the shot clipped the air in front of him, and he thought he felt the heat of the shot, even saw the small flash of blue that suggested an energy weapon pass him.

Aithris was out of cover then, and his SCAR-H barked three times. He worked the trigger each instance, his shooting controlled and carefully aimed. And then, almost as quickly as the action had started, it was over. Quiet fell across the street, and John found himself crouching behind a broken half-wall. He did not stick his head out for a good minute.

"I got them," Aithris called, and he sounded sure of it. Of course, they could not confirm as much until they actually checked the location in which the sniper had been hidden, but John was confident in Aithris' abilities enough to poke his head around the wall. He had his M14 levelled as he went, peering through the scope towards the street ahead. No signs of movement, beyond the team members in the shadow of the house on the right. And no silhouette in the window, it seemed.

"Move on ahead. Cover each other." John propped the rifle atop the broken wall in front of him. Aithris crossed the street, whilst he watched out for further enemy fire. The others followed suit, one at a time, the others keeping an eye out for each team member. It was a slow process, albeit a necessary one. After a few minutes, John joined the team at the base of the house in which the sniper had hidden. A set of stairs was to its right, leading to the upper floor. Aithris headed in, checking the interior before he emerged a moment later and gave John a nod.

"Sniper's dead," he said. "Bullet clean through the eye."

"All right, we move on." Getting through this town was going to take a lot longer than John had anticipated. All the while, the rain continued and somewhere in it, amongst the rubble, was the currently missing-in-action SG-21. Dead or alive, who could know for sure?

The team moved along the street, turning right onto another, if fairly short, street. There were some ruined houses down the end, off to the left-hand side, as well as a small public park that was mostly a mess of craters now. The trees that had been in it were blackened if not uprooted entirely. There was a large crater in the road, and John noticed some distinctly blue-tinted gas lingering in the bottom of it. A fairly deep crater at that, and John could see the way in which the cause of the crater had damaged the surrounding structures, outright blowing the entire side of the nearest house to it away. Water was puddling in the crater from the rain, and even that was tinted an unhealthy green-blue colour. Kav'rak gestured to the crater as they hurried past it.

"Keep out of the deep ones," he warned. "The gases gather in there." The others eyed the small cloud at the base of the crater, floating above the sickly puddle of water. A curious sight, if an ominous one. However, their attention was quickly diverted by the sound of weapons fire ahead, coming off as a rapid volley of loud cracks. An automatic weapon of some kind, and John sighted movement amongst the rubble further ahead. Again, the street turned right, and the shooters were firing off at something well past that right-hand turn.

The team went low amongst the rubble. Kav'rak crouched behind one particularly large chunk, looking to the source of the weapons fire.

"They're not shooting at us," he stated. John sidled up beside him, looking to the spot about twenty metres ahead where he saw another muzzle flash. Someone was behind a wall there, firing over it.

"Those are makalvari guns," Kav'rak added. He put a hand to his beak-like mouth then, and John was startled by the rollicking, bird-like call that escaped his throat. It was deep and guttural, like something one might hear coming from an especially large species of bird back on Earth. The guns ahead fell silent, as the call echoed throughout the town, before an equally throaty call sounded from up ahead. It was shorter, more of a trill, an affirmative answer to the challenge the Captain had given.

"Who's there?" John asked him. Kav'rak did not reply straight away. He made another call, following it with a series of chirrups and throaty tones, and in turn he received a reply by a male makalvari voice that seemed to explain their situation, or at least that was what John gathered as he was not fluent in birdman-speak.

"They're ours," Kav'rak said, glancing at him. "They say there is a sniper further down the road and request we wait here for the time being."

"Sure." John looked to the others, scattered amongst the rubble behind him. They appeared calm and content, if a little miserable under the steadily falling rain. John returned his attention to the shooters up ahead, sighting a makalvari soldier in a drab green uniform and tattered body armour emerge from amongst the bushes behind the broken wall. He held a makalvari ballistics rifle of some kind, and like most makalvari weapons it was based on a magnetic accelerator principle. Each shot from it sounded as a loud 'crack' underlaid by a metallic noise, like someone quickly scraping a blade along a sharpening stone. This makalvari was tall and had a thick plume of black feathers upon his head, as well as an intimidating scar that ran down the left side of his face.

Another sniper shot clipped the wall near him. This makalvari hardly flinched and instead levelled his hefty rifle, a long one built from scuffed, machine-pressed metal. He pulled the trigger, blasting a supersonic slug downrange towards some unseen shooter. And then, with a satisfied look, the makalvari soldier lowered the weapon and waited a moment as he regarded their distant target. No further enemy fire came their way, and he turned to the squad hunkering down nearby.

"Come on," he said, his voice gruff. "The bastard's dead."

"I'll go with that," John said, and he motioned for his team to follow. Kav'rak was first ahead, racing to meet the soldier. To their right, the road went on to a row of destroyed houses, among them a church-like structure that had seen most of its roof blown away. The road continued on up to its entrance, before going to the left where it narrowed and passed through a wrecked gate. Another house was built over that gate, with a set of stairs running up the side to allow access. In all, this town looked a lot older than what one might expect from a hyperspace capable civilisation, but evidently this place had been around for centuries. John did notice the computerised keypad locks visible at some of the doors on the surrounding buildings. At least, those that remained partially intact. He could see inside some of the houses, specifically through the holes blasted through them. Anything valuable had been stripped out, and that included computers and the like.

The group met behind the wall. The makalvari soldier pulled a canteen from his waist and took a healthy gulp of water from it as the team gathered. Putting it away, he eyed the humans before him with a wary expression. From amongst the undergrowth emerged another makalvari soldier, dressed in a similar uniform. He was of a stockier build, and his head plume was much shorter and less tousled than that on the scar-faced one. Both carried rail rifles, and both were dirty and weary.

"Captain Kav'rak, of the Royal Guard." Kav'rak introduced himself with a firm voice. The soldier with the scarred face offered a half-hearted salute. He had a pair of yellow bands around one shoulder, which suggested a rank of some importance.

"Lieutenant Sha'Pek of the twenty-seventh Specialised Infantry Division," the scar-faced makalvari said. He nodded to his compatriot. "That's Sergeant Hur'Par."

The Sergeant gave a quick salute. When he spoke, his voice carried a distinctly different accent to the other two.

"Nice to have some help, sir," he commented, before he eyed the humans with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Just not what we expected to find, aye."

"And the rest of your division?" Kav'rak asked. The rain was slowing now, perhaps hinting that the worst of it had passed.

"Scattered or dead," Sha'Pek replied. He reached into a pouch on his grey armour vest, and from inside he pulled what John took to be a handmade cigarette. He stuck it past his mouth and from another pouch he pulled a small lighter, and with it he ignited the tip and took a long, deep drag on the exotic weeds contained within. "What are the humans doing here, Captain?"

"We're on a special mission," Kav'rak said. "And the two of you are now under my command."

John sensed some annoyance from Sha'Pek, but the Lieutenant hid it well enough. He gave a nod, yellow eyes narrowed.

"As you wish, sir." No, he was not pleased at all. That much was clear in his tone. Kav'rak chose to ignore the impudence in his voice.

"Have you seen any other humans around?" John asked this, and Sha'Pek met his eyes and gave a nod.

"Four of them passed through here close to two hours ago," he said. "We saw them, but that was it. We have no idea what became of them."

"They would have gone for the command post." Aithris was the one to say this, and Sha'Pek gave him an irritated glance.

"What's one of his kind doing here, sir?" Sha'Pek asked Kav'rak.

"Like I said, Lieutenant, it's a special mission."

"Looks like a circus to me."

"What was that, Lieutenant?" Kav'rak's tone was hard, and Sha'Pek turned around, looking down the street again.

"Nothing, sir."

John noticed the way in which Sergeant Hur'Par gave a wry smirk upon hearing this. It was apparent that Sha'Pek's attitude towards his superiors was not an always positive one.

"We're going to the Calsharan command post, at the train station," Kav'rak said.

"That's not going to be easy, sir," Hur'Par said.

"It's where we're going." Kav'rak made it clear that there was to be no arguing about it. "From there, we'll be going for a significant Calsharan installation. As I said, it's a—"

"Special mission, yes, you've said so already." Sha'Pek turned around again, and he threw his cigarette aside, leaving the small flaming tip to become doused in a puddle. "By all means, Captain, lead the way."

John turned to Natalia and the others, who had been waiting quietly nearby in the cover of the broken wall and rubble. It seemed that they were all thinking much along the same lines he was: the more the merrier, as the saying went. John was already beginning to doubt why they had come here, much more so than he had previously. Regardless, they were here now and there was a missing team to find. Beyond that, hitting the Calsharans where it hurt was not a bad thing, even if it resulted in helping the makalvari to ends that John figured were mostly selfish. Such was the nature of alliances like this, but as General Janssen had explained to him, they simply had to play the game regardless of their personal feelings.