Jimmie breathed out, slow and steady. Smile creeping to surface, thoughts filled with pride and joy. He had done it, finaly, he had showed what he was worth, shown that he was capable. He had killed an alien. Dick whispered on his right.

“Prepare for reinforcement,” With no emotion in his voice. Jimmie sneaked a look at Dick, seeing a face full of determination, and Jimmie’s smile faltered. But he didn’t dwell on Dick’s reaction. For Dick was right, reinforcement could be coming. Could, was the right word. Minutes passed, but no reinforcement came. Eventually, the commander came running towards Jimmie and Dick, talking softly. “Good shot, we’ll continue east from this position, far enough away that possible allies won’t find us easily.” Jimmie nodded, lifting his rifle from the rock as he stood up. Jimmie’s eyes moved to behind the commander, seeing the rest of the group following in a brisk jog. Piernov’s face was unreadable, although he held out his thumb when he noticed Jimmie looking at him. Behind him were Chris, who smiled once Jimmie’s eyes met his, then he looked away, head down and staring at his rifle. “What a fucking shot! Knew you’d be great for the team man.” Rick said in a shout-whisper, jogging past Jimmie to follow the commander. Jimmie followed right after, keeping even steps as the group swiftly jogged forwards, away from the alien corpse, each man carrying his weapon like a cat, ready to bite at anything that came too close. Jimmie felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder, momentarily im balancing him. Seeking the source, he saw Bill, jogging awkwardly with his bug gun slung over his shoulder, a big smile showing white teeth. “Impressive, I thought that Dick was just fucking with us. Guess you really are that good huh.” He tapped Jimmie’s shoulder a few times, then let silence take its place, focusing on running. Jimmie smiled at his group's reaction, he felt pride; he felt acknowledged. His eyes wandered towards Dick, who were leading the small group forward. Big strides, head turned backwards, scanning the top of the hill, the hill that the alien had come from. Dick’s eyes wandered, then met Jimmie’s, and Jimmie smiled, and Dick looked away. His heart beat, heat practically steaming from his face, anger rising to a crescendo. If anyone had the thought to look at Jimmie, they would have to step back, his anger as clear as day. But they were not, they were focusing on the enemy. Jimmie also wanted to focus on the enemy, wanted to revel, to feel the glory of his first, respectable, kill, to be respected. But Dick took it away, the moment to be forever remembered as “not good enough”. Yes, that was practically what Dick’s face had told Jimmie; he wasn’t good enough. The grip on Jimmie’s rifle hardened, a stray thought popping into his head. What if, what if I just shot him? Yeah, it's not like anyone could stop me. If anything, the commander would just let me loose on the aliens, hoping I’d die. Isn’t that what I want? Yeah, I only came to this planet to kill aliens. Why do I have to be in this group? Its not like it's my first time killing a human. The thoughts ended there, memories flashing to surface, his anger subsiding slightly, new feeling slowly creeping. Guilt. “Hey, you aight?” Bill suddenly said, leaning in close to Jimmie’s face. Jimmie turned away quick, forcing his eyes to stare at the quickly disappearing body of the dead alien. Then Jimmie nodded. “Okay man. And... Dont dwell on it, it's not good” Bill almost whispered, patting the top of Jimmie’s helmet. Jimmie nodded in response, but knew that Bill had the wrong idea, it's not as if Jimmie felt bad about killing the alien, it deserved it. Jimmie couldn’t tell him the real reason, couldn’t tell him why he felt so… Guilty. He couldn’t tell anyone. It's to be a secret, a secret he will take to his grave. Dick was leading the group, stopping it with a gesture. He turned around to consult something with the commander. Jimmie let his eyes wander away from the alien corpse, that was now a mere dot on the vast brown landscape, blending in, looking more like a round stone than a corpse. The commander nodded at something Dick had said, then turned to the assembled group. “We’re going up here. Go slow and keep low to the ground. The last hundred meters we will be crawling. Bill, you’ll stay here as back-up, if hell breaks loose, we’ll need heavy fire.” Bill nodded, then the rest swiftly moved up. At first jogging, then slowing down to a brisk walk, then to a walk. Tension graspable, each man with their gun aimed high, up towards the peak of the hill. The last hundred meters was next, and the commander gestured for everyone to crawl. While crawling up the last part, nothing happened, and the commander peaked his head above the hill and gestured for everyone to stop. Jimmie didn’t, he continued, he wanted to see what they were up against. He saw a flash of the commander's face before his head peaked above the hill, surprise followed by annoyance, the first expressions he’s seen from the commander. But Jimmie didn’t care, not now, not after everything he’d felt. His emotions were unshackled, released and let loose. He didn’t want them loose; he feared what might happen, what he might do. So he did the next best thing, let his emotions turn singular, turn it into a hate against the aliens. And Jimmie saw it, far in the distance, a fortification rendered to mere rubble. Flashes of yellow and white dotting the remnants, the sound of gunfire clear and humanoid shapes covering behind the rubble. Firing in the direction of Jimmie, but further down, firing against brown shapes. Letting his eyes focus on the brown shapes, Jimmie noticed that they had the same shells as the now dead alien. The aliens were laying down on their stomach’s, their back’s covering their entire bodies and making them look like slow moving rocks, creeping their way towards the fortifications. The distant artillery revealed to be mortars, set up somewhere inside the fortification. A large explosion rang out, hitting one of the distant brown rocky shapes, and from it, a spray of blood, gore and bits of shell being blasted away. His eyes trailed down, down and away from the fortification. The brown shapes looming larger, they got less spread out and their numbers rising. Until his eyes stopped on the foot the hill they were on top off. Aliens clad in armour, armour that resembled those of medieval times, shining from polish and glitter. Their already massive bodies looking enormous in the armour. They numbered about twelve, and all seemed to have rifles that hang from their backs, long enough to almost touch the ground. Jimmie noted that one of them was lying down, looking like a glittering silver rock. A rifle peaked out from the top of the lying alien, barrel long and thin, square with a what looked to be a sight on the top. The alien must have squeezed the trigger, for the rifle let out a red whimper of a light. Trailing the red light, he noted that it flew perfectly straight, flying faster than his eyes could perceive. Then it hit the fortification, or the last remnants of it, and a soundless, but very visible, explosion blinked into existence. Then it was gone, taking with it, a rounded sphere of nothing. Mere seconds later, dirt and the debris fell into the hole that the blast had created. And even from this distance, Jimmie noted that half of a man were falling into it along with the debris. The half that was gone were just gone, not torn away or shot of. And Jimmie realised what had destroyed the fortification.