Off and on over the last decade or so, I’ve been working on a sci-fi novel. I wanted to create a cohesive fictional world with believable characters, and so I wrote a few short stories to help me flesh out my characters and universe. The following is one of those stories.

Rain fell softly from the sky, weeping trough the upper canopy of the trees and dripping gently down onto the lower branches, condensing and gathering, then falling again, perhaps to another branch, perhaps all the way to the ground.  A mist enveloped the forest floor, blanketing the dirt and shrubbery and shallow creeks like a shroud.  Out of the mist jutted mighty trees, their monstrous visages clustered together as if in threatening barrier.  The tender breeze whispering through their knotted limbs gave them voice, a soft hiss that could be both inviting on a warm summer day, and haunting after the sun had left the sky.

The forest hung in twilight now, at the crux between light and darkness.  Everywhere birds and animals of the day were ending their shifts as the beasts and creatures of the night emerged.  High above the ground, owls could be seen, roosting on branches or gliding silently through the air, keen eyes focused on the ground for their next victim.

In that way, mused Aerikon, we are striving toward a common goal.

Of course, he knew that the simile did not extend much farther than that.  The owls were out and killing in order to keep surviving.  He was out and killing in order to bring sudden end to survival.  But, he thought, we are both predators, and we both hold death in our hands.  Or talons, as the case may be.

Bringing his attention back to his task, Aerikon Pliaski peered intently through the scope of the death that he held in his hands, scanning the forest floor for the signs he knew would come.

But not yet.

The game was still in its opening stages, the pieces only just beginning to make their moves.  But soon, soon…it would begin in earnest.  Until then, the wait.

Waiting was a skill not natural to Aerikon, but he had learned it.  Learned it quickly; one tended to pick things up fast when the alternative was death.  Nevertheless, he did not like it; he was not like some, to whom a passing hour was but an instant.  Every second that passed without the game being played in earnest were wasted.  Every second that did not leak the blood of the enemy was counterproductive.

Come on.  Make your move.  Let’s play.

From his vantage point nestled in a crotch between branch and trunk high above the ground, Aerikon lay face down and searched the ground once more, his long rifle moving slowly, sweeping the game board below.  The stock of the gun conformed to his position, its stock pressed against his shoulder and wrapping around underneath and up behind, forming a ‘U’ shape, which allowed him to brace the stock against his side and steady it.  The custom handgrip in the stock was formed for his fingers, and fit his hand like a glove.  It had become like an extension of his body, his long and deadly arm.  With a scope equipped with infrared and night vision capabilities, he had a third, all-seeing eye.  His armor was the best photomimic camouflage available, making him completely invisible when not moving.  From here, he was god.  He was the master player.

Of course, he was not ultimately the master player.  The true Master resided below, inside the underground bunker directly underneath Aerikon’s position, doubtless carefully laying plans with his closest advisors.

Aerikon felt a faint vibration under the skin on the back of his neck, and clenched his teeth to activate his comm.  The whispered voice of his commander hissed gently in his ear.

“Shadow one to all units, we have just been raised to threat level three.  The base’s security has been compromised, bomb threat inside.  The Karman is being escorted out.  Stay alert.”

Shutting off the traceable comm with another click of his teeth, watched as the peaceful, if imposing, scene below him broke into pandemonium.  The half dozen security personnel that had been patrolling the area flew into action, two running to prepare the Karman’s speeder, two breaking for the base’s exit, and the last pair taking up protective positions along the pathway between the exit and the vehicle.  One of these soldiers below was not truly a soldier, but a member of the Shadow Guard, their eyes on the ground.  He stood alert at the speeder’s door as his counterpart climbed inside to begin the warm-up sequence.

Aerikon grimaced.  This was not the first bomb the Karman had fled—it was an unfortunate part of being the most important man in the world.  And yet, it still infuriated him.  Rend their souls!  Why can’t they understand?  What is it that drives their hatred for sanity?  For peace?

Aerikon did not know, nor did he believe he would ever know.  All he knew was that their efforts would amount to nothing.  They could not touch his master.  Not while he was playing.

Another com vibration.  “Shadow one to all units—threat level four.  Intel indicates a strike as the Grand Karman leaves the building.  The threat must be identified and eliminated before that happens.”

Aerikon again scanned the ground.  This new piece of information confirmed his worst fear.  Thus far in his experience with bomb threats against the Karman, no assassin had yet taken the next obvious step and laid a trap for the great man as he left the endangered area.  He supposed that it had only been a matter of time.  The strategy was old and proven—force your target out into the open, and then take him down.  The short walk from the base’s exit to the secure vehicle would be the best opportunity for an assassin to strike.

“The Karman is making his way toward the exit.  Ground, have you identified a target?”

The Shadow on the ground shifted his weight to his right foot, and glanced casually in the opposite direction, his motions a coded language in which all the shadow guard were fluent.  Negative.

Peering through his scope, Aerikon focused on each of the figures down below, magnifying their faces so that he could see them as if they were standing in front of him.  He searched each face, looking for signs of tension, of anticipation, of anything.

Nothing.

Whichever one it was, he was an experienced player of the game.  Of course, this was to be expected, seeing as he had already wormed his way into the personnel of the Grand Karman’s secret refuge.  Each face registered only alert awareness, some more than others, but nothing that was indicative of anything.  No apparent lack of sleep, no visible signs of stimulants.  Nothing.

Bloody schwin!  Where are you?

“The Karman will reach the exit in approximately thirty seconds.  We must identify the target.”

The Shadow down below began making quick movements, shifting his weight and position suddenly.  These were not coded movements, but an attempt to evoke a reaction from the assassin, who must surely be on edge as his target drew nearer.

But all he registered was a few glances from all of the other personnel.  Normal behavior.

Could the intel be wrong?  No, impossible.  A level four threat is not based on a bad feeling.  We swept the area for assassination devices.  Sensors are deployed to a radius of three miles, reporting nothing but wildlife.  It’s one of them down there!  But which one?

“Fifteen seconds.  Where is he, Ground?”

Aerikon readied his weapon, his finger resting with practiced comfort on the trigger, a nervous edge beginning to gnaw at his mind.  His master was in peril.  Where was the danger?

He activated his own com, speaking into it without moving his lips, his voice a whisper barely hearable.  “Stop the Karman from leaving the building!”

“Negative, Three.  Whoever’s controlling the explosive would notice any sudden change in protocol.  Ten seconds!”

Beads of sweat formed on Aerikon’s forehead.  Danger within, danger without.  Caught between a rock and a hard place.

He could do nothing about the danger within…but the danger without…

Suddenly Aerikon began to move, his hands and arms moving with practiced ease, eye sighting through the scope finding the first guard’s head, finger compressing gently on the trigger.

Not waiting to see the impact, Aerikon found the second man and sent a messenger of death screaming his way before he even had a chance to react to the violent death mere feet from him.

The third man had begun to run for cover by the time Aerikon locked onto him, but far too late to save himself.  As he fell the fourth soldier dove away, rolling and running low for Karman’s vehicle.  Crosshairs found the back of his head, and his run became a spasmodic somersault that came to a stop at the final target’s feet, who had just exited the speeder.  Miniscule upward adjustment, and a fifth bullet sliced through the air and found him before he even realized the danger he was in.

The Shadow Guard that had been standing on the opposite side of the speeder’s door was flat on the ground, only his lower legs visible from Aerikon’s vantage point.

The entire operation had taken just under seven seconds.  Raising his face from his scope, Aerikon registered the buzzing of his com.  Clenching his teeth, he activated it.

“Cease fire, Three!  Comply!  Four has you in his sights!”

Taking his finger off the trigger, Aerikon responded.  “Three, complying.”

“Do not move from your position.”

The base’s heavy blast door slid open, and the Grand Karman strode out, clad in a flak jacket and surrounded by his personal guard.  He startled violently at the scene that greeted him, but was given no time to contemplate it before he was ushered forward and into his vehicle.

As the speeder lifted off and soared away, Aerikon’s com again sounded.

“Explain yourself, Three.”  One’s voice was dark and deadly calm.

“Working my way out of a checkmate, One.”

“Four of those men were loyal to the Karman, Three!”

Aerikon frowned angrily.  “Better four dead saints than one dead savior.”

A pause, and then, “All units, break down.  Rendezvous at site C.  We’re going to have a talk, Three, about your decision making.”

Aerikon began to pack up his gear.  “Be sure to bring a notepad, One.”

Glancing up as he started to descend to the ground, Aerikon saw an owl soar overhead, a dead mouse clenched in its talons.  Grinning darkly, he continued his journey downward in the growing darkness.