The sounds of gunfire and laser weaponry dominated the waterfront. The soldiers of the 7th Infantry Division were doing their best to hold the city of New Orpheus against the forces of the Holy Armada. This city was an important chokehold on this planet. Three great rivers, currents of trade and transportation, met here on the shores of a small lake, which then emptied into a great sea. Many supply lines went through New Orpheus. The Holy Armada knew this, and had made it a priority target. The High Council of the United Colonial Armed Forces had ordered both the 7th Infantry Division and the 15th Air Cavalry Division to prevent New Orpheus from falling into enemy control.
So for one day and one night a hard battle had been fought. The forces of the Armada had managed to get halfway through the city, but the Colonials had dug in and prevented them from going any further.
Pvt. Stephen Cort had been here through all that. HIs squad had been near the frontlines at the very beginning, and had always been one of the last to pull back. They had fought all night, and into the early hours of the morning. Now, in a lull in the fighting, they had holed up in an old hotel to recuperate.
Pvt. Cort looked out the second story window to the street below, cradling his gun. Nothing stirred. He sighed. The sounds of battle were near enough to be on alert. The fighting had that tendency to shift at a moment’s notice, and even if something sounded a good distance away did not mean that it would remain so for long. Constant vigilance was required.
This city was cold and wet. The dampness got into nearly everything. Pvt. Cort stifled a sneeze and wiped his face. He frowned and sniffled a little, clearing his nose. The city was not to his taste.
“You need shut eye?” asked the voice of Pvt. Hugh Takahiro.
Pvt. Cort turned. The sniper was standing back in the shadows, his face hidden.
“No.”
Pvt. Takahiro stepped forward and stood near another window, looking at the street below. “Me neither.” He grimaced at the outside world and spat out the window. “Sergeant wants to move again in an hour. There’s a weak line in the opposing force that we could exploit.”
Pvt. Cort nodded. He sat down to one side of the window, out of any possible line of fire. Pvt. Takahiro scanned the streets with trained eyes.
“So how are you holding out?” Pvt. Cort asked.
“Fifteen kills. Mostly those creepers, but there were a couple of gas sacks in there.”
Pvt. Cort whistled. “Two?”
Pvt. Takahiro tilted his hand back and forth. “One for sure. Don’t know if the second one really was mine. I managed to get a shot in on it right before someone dropped a building on it. Didn’t get to go check it and confirm.”
Pvt. Cort nodded knowingly. He took his cleaning cloth out and began to wipe down his gun. “Still, one is good.”
Takahiro nodded. “How ‘bout you?”
“Eight creepers.”
“Not bad,” Takahiro said.
“I’m just happy to still be here,” Cort replied.
Takahiro spat outside again. “Stow that. You can’t have a thought like that.”
“What’s you mean?”
“A man can’t worry about death constantly.”
“Even in a war?” Cort asked with a grin.
Takahiro gave him a look. “Especially in a war. You’ll go crazy, the medics will have to hop you up on stims. Then you’ll just be quietly unhinged, trapped with your thoughts.”
“So what do you say to do?” Cort asked.
“Keep tally, take pride in it. And don’t say if. No uncertainty. Then you’ll know when to sing your death song.”
“Death song?”
“So you’re not an adherent to the Valhallaic Denomination?”
Cort shook his head.
“Eh, forget it then,” Takahiro said.
“But I thought you said not to think about death?”
Takahiro paused. “It’s not really thinking about death. See, in the initiations to the Valhallaic, you spend a day and two nights alone, thinking about death. Then, a song comes to you. That’s your death song. When you know that death is upon you, you sing it loud and with pride as you go to die.”
Cort thought about this for a moment. “So Valhallaics know when they’re going to die?”
“All Valhallaics who are soldiers can sense their death is near,” Takahiro said. “But not all soldiers who know when death is near are Valhallaics.”
“It’s the mindset.”
Takahiro nodded. “Yes.”
Cort put his cleaning cloth away and slowly got to his feet. He looked out at the street. It was still empty. The grey rain seemed to accent that emptiness.
“So what is your death song?” Cort asked Takahiro. “Or, can you share it?”
Takahiro paused. Then he began to softly sing. It took Cort a few moments to catch was was being sung. It was in Gaelic, as those who called the Delta Quadrant their home spoke at times. Cort couldn’t understand a word of it. Yet it was enough to send shivers up his spine. It was beautiful and guttural all at once.
The sniper finished. “I can only imagine what that’ll sound like when... when the time comes,” Cort said.
Takahiro turned to him with a slight smile. “Glorious. That’s how it’ll sound.”
Cort looked down into the street. His eyes widened. A gas-bag was making its way through the emptiness. Its bulbous form seemed benign, but Cort knew that the weaponry on its battle harness could eliminate them all in the blink of an eye. He got down on one knee and pulled Takahiro down as well. Once the sniper was crouched beside him, Cort pointed out the gas-bag to him. Takahiro’s eyes lit up as he turned his scope on.
“Pay attention,” he said to Cort. “Watch the air around it.”
Cort looked at the gas bag. He noticed a slight shimmer in the air around it every two seconds or so.
“Its shield oscillates. That’s when you have to get the shot in.” The sniper balanced his gun on the window sill. He slowed his breath a little. Cort watched, completely engrossed.
“You need something high-powered to breach even the oscillation,” Takahiro said. The gas-bag paused, almost as if it had heard them. The two soldiers held their breaths, the sniper gripped his rifle tensely. The alien looked around cautiously as Takahiro looked into his scope.
“There’s a small hose that runs from the armor right into the gas-bag,” he whispered. “See it?”
Cort looked out again. After a moment, he was able to see the hose. It was so small that it was almost invisible.
“When I make my first shot, head for the stairs,” Takahiro whispered. “If I don’t follow, it means I’m trying for a second one.”
Cort nodded. The next few moments were silent. Takahiro’s face was solemn and serene as he looked through the scope. Cort had never seen the sniper at work before. He usually worked alone, a distance away from the rest of the platoon. The young private was nearly enthralled, but the sight of the gas-bag kept him from complete entrancement.
Takahiro inhaled and pulled the trigger on the exhale. The gunshot cracked in the stillness. Cort jumped up and raced for the stairs. Takahiro raced over to Sergeant Dunn and shook his shoulder. The older man shook his head awake.
“Sir, we need to move,” Takahiro said as Cort moved to the door to keep an eye on the street.
The sergeant looked at his watch. “It’s not been an hour.”
“I just took down a gas-bag.”
“My, how the time flies,” the sergeant said as he got up and grabbed his napalm shotgun. “All right then. Next objective, that Armada landing zone. Let’s move!”
The sergeant and Takahiro woke up the other two members of the squad. Cort kept a watch on the road. The gas-bag’s death would not go unnoticed. The Armada would investigate why one of their elite warriors had gone off the grid. It would do no good to be around when that happened.
The rest of the squad hurried out the door. Cort waited until they had all left, then brought up the rear. The sergeant barked a few coarse words to get them to move faster.
The sudden ‘ker-boom’ of an approaching heavy ordinance round, fired from some Armada rocket tube, sounded above all the other noises of the battlefield. There was a whistling noise, then a loud thud. The building that the squad had just been in blew apart in a cloud of fire and rubble.
“Move!” Sergeant Dunn yelled as he waved the squad forward. Another building beside them blew apart as an Armada tank rolled through it. “Cover!” the sergeant yelled as he lead the squad towards the buildings opposite the tank. The squad followed after him, even as the tank’s big gun moved to track them. It fired right behind them, the shock wave from the blast sending them sprawling to their faces. Cort grabbed Takahiro and pulled him to his feet. The rest of the squad hurried to their feet and they all scrambled into the building.
The tank fired again. The front of the building crumbled and the squad rushed farther into the structure. Rubble fell behind them, threatening to catch them and crush them. The squad threw themselves out of the bombed out rear of the building as it collapsed behind them.
“On your feet!” Sergeant Dunn yelled, surveying the area with a grimace. An electro-magnetic pellet ripped its way through his mouth, severing his skull from his body. Cort spun on his back and aimed in the direction that the shot had come from. Two creepers, the standard Armada ground troopers, were advancing. The private fired at one of them and caught it in the shoulder, causing it to drop its gun.
Five more creepers came out of a nearby building, drawn by the noise of the fight. The rest of the squad scattered before them, trying to find cover before they returned fire. Takahiro began to pull out his sniper rifle, but Cort tossed him his assault rifle. Then he scrambled for the dead sergeant’s shotgun, even as a creeper rushed forward with a murderous snarl in its throat. The alien bore down on him, but the private got the napalm shot gun and brought it up swiftly. He pulled the trigger, enveloping the alien in flaming, corrosive liquid.
Cort leapt back from the burning body and scrambled to cover. His squad mates provided covering fire for him, picking off a couple of the advancing creepers. Suddenly, a large explosion rocked the area. A gas-bag began to descend from a nearby building.
Cort slid behind cover with Takahiro. He swallowed down a lump in his throat. But before his mind could try to come up with a plan, the sniper put down the assault rifle and took his sniper rifle off of his back. Then he held out his hand.
“Give me the shotgun.”
Cort was lost for a moment, trying to comprehend just what the sniper was doing. Then he looked at Takahiro’s eyes. In them was a strange, almost resigned expression. Cort opened his mouth to speak, but Takahiro shook his head.
“Give me the shotgun. Take my rifle. Carry on.”
Cort hesitated an instant longer. But in the end he gave up the shotgun and took Takahiro’s sniper rifle from him. The sniper cocked the shotgun and smiled. Then he opened his mouth and began to sing that same Gaelic song from before. But it was not whispered and hidden anymore. Now it was loud and strong, a true warrior’s song. Takahiro leapt out of cover and into the fray. There was a creeper not two feet away. It fell with a face full of napalm.
Cort watched as Takahiro rushed forward, the Armada troops almost pausing as he came at them. The private’s heart hurt as the sniper went forward, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Nothing but follow his last request. He turned to the other two in the squad and pointed in the direction of their objective.
“Move out!”
The other two paused. They seemed very reluctant to go. But Cort took a deep breath and began to move. At this, they moved as well. The private heard Takahiro’s death song as he ran. it was faint amongst the cacaphony of battle sounds, yet still it remained. He moved out of earshot before the hearty tune died away. In his heart, Cort hoped it never would.
Phoenix here to review your piece. 
Overall I think it was a great idea. Like the review above said the idea for a Death song is very interesting and well executed in this story. A lot of stories have good ideas such as this but aren't properly executed. So I congratulate you for a successful execution. 
On to the nit picks. 
Ok this was a really good piece. I think the beginning was a little slow, but once it picked up I must say it was enthralling and kept me hooked. On a very few occasions I think a few descriptions could be a little wordy, but for the most part they were great. 
Hope I helped.
Gender:
Points: 15698
Reviews: 369