A Space Story 38

            Dr. Winchester Faction had not held a gun in a long time.  He was a man named after a gun.  He had grown up aiming and firing and maintaining guns.  He wanted to put away that chapter of his life.  He had set foot on this ship to heal if healing was needed.  He had not set foot on this ship to pick up a gun again.  But the enemy was coming and it was not going to stop just because he did not want to have to hold a gun.

            He reminded himself of what Zai had said.  That these things were just drones not really alive.  Then he remembered that once upon a time people said something just like that about Winchester and his brothers.  The security team had not come yet.  The Spectral Horde was charging around the corner towards him.

            Winchester Faction took aim and began firing.  He aimed for the head.  He always aimed for the head.  He did not move his legs at all.  His upper body moved like a precision machine as he went from target to target.  When the security team arrived, there was nothing left for them to shoot.

            “How did you do this Dr. Faction?” one of them asked.

            “Back when I was a soldier I used to tend to my brothers wounds,” he said, “I also happened to be the best sniper of my generation.”

            It was not something Winchester was proud of.  It was not something he liked being reminded of.