In the old days warfare was loud. It was chaotic, it was frenetic, every action punctuated with the percussive note of shot or shell. Soldiers would return home hard of hearing, and the surest sign of a battle’s end was the ensuing silence. 

In space all was silence.

There was no sound of shot or shell, there was no sound when rounds connected with armor, or cockpits were breached. Not even comms worked, past a certain range. Minovsky interference saw to that. The only sounds were the ones within a pilot’s own cockpit. Warnings, alarms, the click of controls engaging… That was it. The chaos was noiseless. But that was okay. 

[url=https://youtu.be/UN00p8MNajg]Rebekah Fell could provide her own soundtrack.[/url]

The music augmented her mood, the adrenaline coursing through her veins with every squeeze of the trigger. A Zaku drifted helplessly in space, its pilot dead before he even saw her beam. The darkly colored GM was a ghost, striking from long range and reorienting to acquire a new target. In the close-to-mid-range conflict, the markswoman was an unexpected factor. Unfortunately she couldn’t afford to stay at that range any longer. Several of her comrades had fallen in the last few moments alone, and others were hardpressed to hold their own. 

More direct action was required. The Striker EX moved its shield into position at Rebekah’s urging and accelerated rapidly towards the fray. Her target, at this moment, was a blue unit streaking through the battlefield with devastating effectiveness. It had shot down a GM before her eyes after evading what would have been a deadly ambush, the maneuver instantly marking the Act Zaku as a threat. Rather than engage directly, she opted for a subtler approach; her anchor shot out and secured itself to an asteroid, letting her reach the rocky surface without using thrusters that would have alerted any nearby enemies to her presence. 

The Striker’s feet connected with the asteroid, bending to give way into a low crouch. The position ensured she was presenting the smallest target possible, one easily covered with her shield. Just as importantly the solid footing and anchor ensured maximum stability. The visor that gave the Metal Spider clicked into place, rendering her targets as points of red in a blue expanse. Much easier than relying on the naked eye for target acquisition of a blue mobile suit in the black of space. The GM’s beam rifle came up, carefully adjusted to ensure her accuracy while she drew a bead on the blue Zaku. There was no sign her target had spotted her, and at this range it was especially unlikely.

Just as she wanted it.

She pulled the trigger in time with her exhalation, sending a beam lancing through the void to (hopefully) connect with the Act Zaku’s center mass.

It wasn’t personal, not really. Her opponent was a soldier just as Rebekah was. They fought for their home the same way, and it was not at their feet that blame could be laid.  But they were an enemy, and an enemy that had shot down one of her colleagues. Given the chance, they would do so many times over. Not something that she was inclined to forgive.

Her opponent was as innocent as Rebekah herself, for what that was worth, but they were still an enemy.

They could blame it on the misfortune of their birth.