"Um... hi."
Waving a hand to Kaoru's pair of fighters, I awkwardly scratch the back of my head. Well, I'm not great at making new acquaintances, especially with those I don't trust. These guys haven't even shown their faces and walk around bundled in armor up to their ears all the time, plus they jab their barrels at the slightest thing.
"I hope we'll work well together..."
"Doubt."
"Agreed..."
"Absolutely..."
"Damn old man.... Bantha fodder!"
One by one, my companions expressed their opinions. Shorty, the Zabrak brothers, and Kanto. Our brave gang was split into two parts, with a pair of observers assigned to each, who were supposed to help, keep watch, and in case of a threat to democracy... I mean the operation plan, of course. In case of a threat to the plan, they would clearly finish us off, and I doubt they would feel any hesitation.
We got a pair consisting of a brute and a miniature girl, whose silhouette was barely visible under layers of armor and a cloak. Meanwhile, Junko, the droid, and the silent type got two smaller meatheads, though outwardly they were completely indistinguishable from each other.
And I think it's easy enough to understand who complained the most about such a division into teams.
"Damn old man, he's completely lost it." Kicking the sand, Kanto stood a few meters from us. Dressed in a replica of his father's armor, with a shiny round helmet on his head and a small cone-shaped hat made of the same material—his head visually seemed larger than his body and because of that... he was freaking hilarious. Especially in his righteous fury over Junko's absence... or rather, her curvaceous body. "Why do I have to hang out with you guys? It's nothing but sausages here..."
Mda. Our Hawkeye didn't notice that one of the overseers turned out to be a lady. Well, no matter, that's purely his problem... although I still struggled to understand what the big deal was. Yes, Junko has a beautiful body. Not particularly convenient, since armor would have to be custom-made, and anything larger than a small blaster or SMG would be awkward to use... and you can't exactly lie down in a sniper position. Plus, it attracts a ton of attention.
"Eh, stupid brother. You'll see her later and get your fill of looking at..."
"At her tits!" Groping the air with his fingers, Kanto made a creepy expression that could be felt even through the helmet's visor. "He-he-he..."
"Just fat. Useless." Shorty spoke weightily and wearily, but my younger brother heard her. And a torrent of indignation burst from his mouth. For Shorty had encroached upon what was sacred in his understanding.
"Tits aren't made of fat! They are filled with men's dreams and hopes!"
Striking a pompous pose, Mizuna's son thrust a fist into the sky, announcing himself to the entire free world...
And only the dry desert wind supported him in this endeavor, leaving everyone gathered in an awkward silence.
"Mma-a-a... I think we should start." Embarrassedly coughing into my fist as the group's gaze shifted from Kanto to me, I beckon everyone into the tent the workers had set up. Soon these people will leave us, as soon as they install the most necessary things for living. I didn't quite understand the point if we were going to be constantly moving, but apparently Kaoru had his own thoughts on the matter. "If anyone has any ideas..."
Mda. Apparently, everyone present had perfectly learned one of the most important laws of any army or large organization in principle:
"The initiative screws the initiator."
Therefore, no one even thought of participating or expressing their opinion. Everyone just warily glanced at the other participants of the meeting, expecting me to do everything for them.
"I see." Recalling the basics of tactics they taught us in boot camp... though the Helldivers didn't use them at all. What's the point if the order mostly sounded like: "Go, wreck and kill everything that moves in this square." "Then we'll work according to a simple scheme. Fast and daring strikes on the gang's assembly points. We'll start with the furthest camp and then move up until we get to right here..."
Poking a finger at the largest mark, where the whole town of our enemies was supposedly located, I looked around at those present, making sure no one had objections.
"We don't necessarily have to kill everyone, staging bloodbaths. We go in, blow up supplies, damage speeders, make a mess however we can, and get the hell out of there at full speed."
For clarity, I gesture actively, ending by jabbing a thumb to the side. In response, I receive agreeable and generally satisfied nods. After all, we weren't crazed soldiers or maniacs, but ordinary assassins... so my simple idea was accepted without problems.
"Then let's not delay. We'll head out in a couple of hours, watch the camp until evening, and then strike immediately." Stepping away from the map table, I nod to everyone one last time, then leave the tent, holding the flap for Shorty. "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Reason? Plan is not bad. Bandits are fools. Poor organization. You saw. Sam himself."
"That's true..."
Drawing out the words, I realized there were no reasons for doubt. The bastards felt like winners and did whatever they wanted. I think we'll have time to disable half of these small camps before the raiders start moving and taking measures.
And by the time they organize properly, we'll already be poking around in their main camp.
"I wonder how Junko and her pals will act?"
"Most likely identical. Simple and without extra strain. Stupid humans."
"How rude," smiling, I pat Shorty on the head, receiving an annoyed huff and active waving of small palms in an attempt to fight me off, "touchy."
***
"This looks too simple."
"Agreed," spitting on the ground, Kanto once again peered through the binoculars our assistants had lent us. The armor-clad fighters were now lying on the sand, trying not to stand out with their cool outfits. "Pam-pam-pam... Fine, whatever. Since Junko isn't here, we might as well do this quickly, and since these talentless hacks didn't set out sentinels, it's their own fault. I'm going in, old-timer."
Reloading his rifle, Mizuna's son simply and without fuss rolled over the dune, sliding down the slope. Leaving a long trail on the sand, my brother dropped to the sand as soon as his feet found "solid" ground.
Fortunately, it was night, and such stunts went unnoticed by our enemies.
"Restless kid..."
"Agreed... Are you sure you're brothers?"
"Yeah." Seeing the skeptical looks of the Zabrak brothers, I scratch the back of my head with slight embarrassment. "Not by blood."
With a smirk and a tilt of their heads, this cheeky pair started after him, carving a couple more paths on the sand dune we were hiding behind. Left in the company of Shorty and Kaoru's pair of soldiers, I pulled the rifle off my shoulder, adjusting the sight and preparing for battle.
We had little explosives—so we shouldn't waste them on this first small camp. So, while my twitchy relative distracts them, and brothers Einz and Zwei keep an eye on him, I'll get to work.
"Shorty, get the ammo ready," nodding habitually, the little Jawa took a handful of heavy bullets, sitting down beside my right shoulder and preparing to insert bullets into the cylinder after each shot, "and you guys cover us and look around. I wouldn't want..."
Suddenly a massive explosion thundered over the camp, and Kanto's body flew out of there like a cannonball. Maneuvering in the air, my brother flew away on a cable he had hooked onto one of the rocks.
Dragging his back across the sand, he slowed down and rolled up to the boulder at a snail's pace, staring fixedly at the growing fire.
"Just great. Such a huge explosion was probably seen by the whole desert."
And I wasn't exaggerating. Flames shot into the air, illuminating the desert for hundreds of meters and serving as an excellent signal for the rest. The bandits were located at a decent distance from each other, but still... to take such a risk.
And the problems weren't long in coming. Pushing me in the shoulder, one of Kaoru's fighters promptly handed me his super-cool binoculars, which he had been using to scan the surroundings. Poking a finger in the direction of the approaching threat, the big guy began preparing for battle, unsheathing a heavy blaster machine gun from his back.
His female colleague had already managed to drop to one knee and was now aiming a long rifle made in a minimalist style.
"It just can't be any other way, can it?"
Grumbling under my breath, I examined the ship that had turned toward us. The hulking vessel often listed to the side, but generally held its course. Clearly, the helmsman of this ship was tipsy.
The flying fortress lit up with lights, and searchlights hit the ground, illuminating the entire path.
A few times they fired blasters in our direction, but considering the distance—nothing serious, though the trend was alarming.
"What are we doing?" Her armor's speaker rasping, the girl turned to me. In the reflection of the fire, her red helmet lenses stirred a less-than-pleasant flashback in my memory.
The roar of metallic footfalls. The synchronized steps of thousands of war machines. A deafening roar that pierced to the very core.
Explosions of shells falling from the sky under the light of crimson searchlights.
Monstrous mechanical creatures running toward us.
"Holy Liberty..."
"Destroyer?"
Tossing the binoculars aside, I shake my head, realizing that if I hadn't come to my senses in a second, this girl's head would have been blown to pieces.
"We're going to do our job," dropping to my stomach again, I level the rifle at the approaching ship, which continued its chaotic flight. During our little chat, it had managed to pick up decent speed and was now heading straight for the fire. "Let's split up. I fire first, you after me. Try to hit at the moment of the ammunition's detonation; maybe we'll get lucky and they won't notice where you're firing from..."
Pressing to the sight, bracing the wooden stock against my shoulder, feeling the hardness of the lacquered surface.
In many ways blasters were good, but stealth was clearly not their forte.
"Though... who am I to talk."
At the last thought—a wicked smirk crept onto my lips. I shouldn't have gotten distracted before the shot, but I found it damn funny.
"Let's make some noise..."
A shot. The stock kicks into my shoulder. My nostrils were instantly filled with the scent of gunpowder, and a shell the size of an index finger fell onto the sand. A thin stream of smoke drifted into the sky from it.
Inhaling the scent, I wait for Shorty to insert a new bullet into the rotated cylinder. Surveying the work of my hands.
The ship's bow lit up with a flash. Two searchlights and a blaster cannon shattered into pieces, and the vessel itself swerved to the side, dodging subsequent hits.
A shot.
The giant's starboard side acquired a large hole, into which several laser charges flew a moment later, while the upper decks were raked by a burst of blue bolts from the machine gun.
"There we go."
A shot. A shot. A shot.
My ears were habitually deafened. The carbine's kicks constantly hit my shoulder, causing my arm to slide across the sand, digging a small pit with my elbow.
Shorty grumbled in my ear, scolding me for speeding up the rate of fire too much, making it hard for her to keep up with replenishing my ammo.
From somewhere to the side, new shots were heard... Apparently, Kanto had stopped admiring the work of his hands and started spending government ammunition on useful business.
The bandits' ship approached. Illuminated by explosions, it listed to the port side, coming at us in an arc. A few times something exploded inside the ship, but the stubborn vessel continued its path, getting closer and closer to the raiders' base.
A couple of times, through the sight, I saw the most desperate bastards jumping onto high dunes, shouting and waving their arms, trying to land correctly.
"They must have watched too many movies, that's why they're doing stupid shit."
The vessel slowed down sharply, allowing most of the crew to leave it. And as soon as the flow of panicking bandits stopped, I made the final shot.
A shot.
One of the repulsor platforms flew off with a crash. Just as it was flying over one of the dunes, the ship swerved its nose in an arc and at the end of its flight crashed into a sand mountain, scattering sand around and raising a real curtain.
On its belly, like a wounded beast, the ship rolled down, straight toward the destroyed camp where the bandits were unsuccessfully trying to put out the fire.
And there were many of them there, especially considering those who joined them from the ship.
"I think that declares our glorious mission finished."
"Agreement. Lucky they are all drugged and drunk as hell."
"I feel that after losing such a ship, this kind of thing will stop."
Helping the Jawa up, I see the others gathering around me out of the corner of my eye.
Alive and well, not even bruised, just dusted with sand. A magnificent result...
"There they are! On the hill! Get the bastards!"
"Gentlemen." Nodding to the guys, I turn to the Jawa and the girl. "Ladies. It's time to resort to the best tradition of one amazing military unit."
Questioning faces were my answer. Some just tilted their heads to the side, warily looking at the bandits gathering near the camp, waving their weapons militantly.
"Getting the hell out."
Without listening to answers, I turn first and take off at full speed, holding Shorty under my arm. Hanging like a sack, the Jawa indifferently poked at a small tablet, marking how much ammunition we had spent.
The first shots flew at our backs, and the night sky, besides the glow of fires, was decorated with a real light show. Flashes of all colors of the rainbow flew around, and occasionally fairly large caliber bullets hit the hill.
"Hey! Destroyer, damn you! Eat it!"
A cable flew past me, and a second later Kanto's body sped into the darkness, accompanied by his cheerful and slightly malicious laughter. Mockingly waving his hand, he overtook everyone else, being the first to reach a small speeder provided to us by Kaoru.
Only, Mizuna's son didn't calculate the speed, so he flew past the speeder at full tilt, and when he tried to brake, he tumbled face-first into the sand.
And when we caught up with him, he had only just started coming to his senses, getting to his feet.
With a three-point throw, I toss Shorty into the back seat, grab my unlucky brother by the scruff of the neck, and hurl him after her.
A couple of seconds, a nimble jump right into the transport's cabin through the open top, and now we are racing across the sands, hearing the disappointed and disgruntled cries of the crowd.
***
The barrel of the heavy laser rifle turned aside. The heavy weapon, which an ordinary human could never lift, let alone fire, was thrust into the air with one hand.
The figure wrapped in a cloak shed his camouflage suit from his back, shaking off the sand at the same time.
The distance between him and the targets allowed him to stroll calmly, especially in the pitch darkness of Tatooine, but the assassin preferred not to take risks when doing his job.
Resting the rifle butt-down, the shady type chosen by Kaoru for the job and who only a day ago had listened to the employer's "brilliant" plan in the cantina, turned on the screen of his wrist computer. Nicknamed Sand Spider for his ability to skillfully set nets for victims, this headhunter was an outstanding personality. Though his name wasn't on everyone's lips like that of the same Destroyer and Desert Demon, in narrow circles they were afraid to pronounce it aloud, and knowledgeable and serious people could always rely on him to perform extremely specific work.
Passing on all the information about what he had seen, he set about clearing his hiding spot without extra words, then in a couple of nimble and habitual movements packed the camouflage suit, putting it into the backpack behind his back.
Another minute was required to disassemble and pack the rifle. After which the assassin took one last look at the destroyed camp and the fallen ship, estimating how he would have to deal with the problems.
The bandits' patrol ship hadn't turned here by chance. Even if the explosion staged by the group of idiot assassins was bright, it wasn't so bright that those eternally drunk and stupid blockheads would have spotted it.
But everything turned out much more unexpectedly. Instead of retreating, during which Spider hoped to live-evaluate the capabilities of the entire group of assassins, this bunch of reckless and brave fools attacked a flying vessel full of thugs.
Reckless and stupid. But luck favored them, and now nearly fifty raiders are sitting in the middle of the desert, not knowing what to do in this situation.
A muffled chuckle came from under the steel mask. Checking the time and the reply message on the PDA, Sand Spider threw the rifle case over his shoulder, walking steadily and unhurriedly away toward the speeder hidden under the sands.
***
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