I am a weapon. There's no two ways about it.
Currently, I am on deployment, with my spotter. We're tracking down one of the Betrayers, in Ammatar space.
My spotter looks naked without her tribal tattoos, concealed for this mission, I mention this to her. She says I am a rude boy. Perhaps I am. I'm not particularly well socialised, it is true.
I don't have many tattoos myself, just my Tribe, Clan, Circle marks. And my Voluval, of course.
My Voluval is the Hawk Eye. It is quite fitting, as in my sniper school class, I graduated top, with 99.983% accuracy.
Though I'd have preferred to get 100%. No-one has ever achieved that though. Maybe one day our Tribe will produce one that can.
I review the file on our target. A double-agent, working with the Great Enemy. A list of crimes as long as my spotter's arm. I don't really need to know this of course, merely what he looks like. The Tribe supplied us with some rotating 3-d imagery of our target man, along with some morphs for potential ageing or disease. The last confirmed image of our target is a few years out of date.
We have a bit of a trek from our landing point to the area where an informant says our target should be. Takes us a couple days to get there.
My spotter isn't shy around me. She undresses casually, and I take the opportunity to ogle her when she's not looking in my direction. Such feminine curves. If we weren't in such different clans, perhaps we could be lovers. But that is not the case, so it is purely self-indulgent ogling that I indulge in.
I've heard some snipers claim to have been intimate with their spotters. Though I find that hard to believe. I may not be particularly well educated, but I'm sure our people frown on that kind of relationship.
We reach the target area. Inspecting the terrain, I pick out a spot that has a good field of fire. We set up there. And wait.
The waiting is the worst part.
I alleviate the boredom by quoting lewd poetry to my spotter. She tells me that I am disgusting, but I can feel her giggling.
We spot movement. Zooming in, I take an image, for comparison to our files. My spotter is a little unsure, but our analysis software says it is a 95% match, given the passage of time and apparent physical condition of the subject.
I ask my spotter for her decision. She takes a moment, then gives me the firing order.
I measure the atmospheric conditions, and check the publicly available weather map. Adjust my sights. The subject is moving around, tending some plants, it seems. I am not sure what kind of plants they are. Possibly melons. Large and round.
I compare my spotter's breasts to the melons. She says she is not amused. But I could sense her body temperature, and saw that she was blushing at the compliment. I'm sure it was a compliment. But this is a distraction !
The subject pauses before one of the plants. I check the range. The flight time of the projectile will be considerable. I must be certain the subject will stay in position.
The subject sits down. This is the moment. I adjust for atmospheric conditions, decide to take the risk and measure with a split second laser rangefinding. Aim is good.
I fire. Subject is hit. Spotter confirms. Subject is killed.
Time to get out of here.
My spotter lifts me up, and we sneak away, heading for the rendezvous point, where the Tribe special operations spacecraft is waiting for us.
I am pleased at another successful mission.
I am a Sebiestor Autonomous Sniper Rifle, and I really quite enjoy being a Weapon for the Tribes.