Desh sighed once again, and tapped the malfunctioning headset. The persistent static was all consuming at this point. That and his so called spotter, “Lucky’sâ€￾ snoring.
The former Vanguard lay on his back several meters away gulping and gagging in his sleep.

The pair had spent three long days belly hiking up to the over ridge of the Imperial held, “Panicle Butteâ€￾. The entire time the vanguard continued to spout on and on about his success record and how the ‘Force’ was with him. Desh was certain he would test that theory when the assignment was over by pushing a combat knife into Lucky’s spleen while he was eating.

The mirror sniper team across the ridge at the “Princess Peakâ€￾ signaled the countdown and Desh tried in vain to get Lucky to wake. The vanguard had espoused how over the course of the three day hike, he was conserving food by only using the Caf rations and Stim tabs from the med kit to stay awake. In this way he would not have to starve himself on the way home. A form of celebration. Now he was passed out, his body crashed down in the brush over looking an Imperial communications and sensor rely outpost.

Desh taped the scomp link stud on the side of the custom made Verpine sniper rifle. Data flooded into the scoop reticule and precisely calculated hundreds of shooting solutions. With a deep breath, Desh crushed the small capsule of relaxant, the gooey bitter-sweet chemical dissolved in his mouth and he slowly exhaled. He took the viewfinder across his targets.

The Primary was the relay itself. Mounted atop the fortified bunker, the armored relay device served to be the main point all Imperial communications data was transferred and routed through. Including any coded space bound transmissions. Destroying the site would severely cripple the Imperial forces and allow a small window for the Rebel slicers to steal valuable data.

The Secondary, was the command staff, who had just begun lounging outside near several heavily armed speeder trucks for their lunch.

wow, nice story!

Thanks-
the next 2 pages are comming up...

Desh lined up the over under combi-weapon, part Predator heavy blaster rifle and part projectile rifle, whose sabot like slugs carried an armor piercing tip with several explosive “tumblersâ€￾. The Verpine weapon was highly illegal, extremely unethical and completely efficient. The trick was to get off the right series of shots. Lucky was useless as a spotter, and Desh needed to make each of the six mandatory shots count.

Through the static of the broken earpiece he could hear his handler offering the final count down sequence. He breathed in again and held, only to exhale the first blaster bolt hit the Relay high. Stopping the rotation of the large dish. The next, which almost woke Lucky, struck gold. A bluish white EM pulse emanated like a wave sending horrid feedback across all the troopers stationed at the base. The third and finale slammed into the generator fusing its internals. Across the immense ravine the opposing team began shooting out gun emplacements and patrolling speeder bikes.

The easy shots were over, but now the base was alerted to their presence. Lightning fast, Desh flipped the receiver clip over to the projectile rifle and attempted to line up each of the now semi-alert command staff. The first sabot shot into the commanding officers chest plate, the tumblers exited in a devastating display in the lap of the valet trooper behind him. Before the other ranking officers were on their feet, the second shot made a deep crease in a senior lieutenant’s hairline. The tumblers splattered brain matter across the now ruined lunch table.

By now the third officer was in a dead run. He was heading for the safety of the armored vehicles.

“…run, you’ll only die tired…â€￾ the ancient joke all snipers knew flashed into Desh’s otherwise clear mind.

The only shot the officer offered to Desh was totally unfair, in the back. Desh paused just a half breath, fired and missed then fired again. His conscious wished he’d made the clear 'back shot', the officer had turned and took the sabot across the stomach and fell to the ground next to the speeder truck. His stomach opened and ruined. The officer wasn’t dead but probably wished he was.

Just as Desh moved his eye from the scoop optic, a pair of red bolts sizzled past his head bursting an ancient tree on fire. A pair of speeder bike troopers had discovered his position. Lucky was awake now and scrambling head long down the steep incline.

I like it, looking forward to the next instalment.

fun read.

I'm glad you enjoy-
but I feel it only fair to warn you about how I write for "Desh"-
I like to do "vignettes" or Scenes
much like how SW was origionaly written, like short serials that begin "En Medi Ros"

Desh never really dies... and each adventure is a new take on his "situation"
a second edition is already up

-enjoy
BM