Create a story scene: weekly contest five

As much as I was hoping somebody else would do this, its my only not-overcomplicated idea. The basic purpose is to make a story scene. Said scene does not require context, but you do need to understand essentially what's going on. Have fun!!

Un question: When is the deadline?

Deadline is sunday. Hopefully. Unless absolutely nobody enters.

I'm in. So like, can we use writing we already have on hand or???

And by scene you just mean something that well, would be like a scene in a movie??? Or???

Zyph: in a story, movie, a theatre production if you want. Preferably a story scene though. And you can use writing you have on hand.

Wyatt: Ok, .

Here is my entry, I hope it counts as a scene.

Laying under the peaceful, blinking stars on cool dew strewn grass, Kore lay wide awake, dreading the morning. The past two months had been a hard ride, especially with the loss of so many troops. He always hated having to apply for more troops. And he knew after this was all over he would need to. The Senator was more trouble than help to him. Sighing he made his eyes shut. Often he would think he should leave. Leave war behind. He had the skill to be a bounty hunter, assassin too. Or maybe something simpler. Could I leave all this in the past? All the blood I've seen shed? All of my own sweat and tears I've put into this war? It runs in my veins to fight. Didn't I make a promise? Didn't I take an oath? Yes. But it's just words. Words easily broken. Who needs this life? But. If I do leave, what happens to my troopers? I can't let them go without knowing they'll gain a better commander then me. I wouldn't leave knowing they'd go to someone like Rho. Never him. Maybe Commander Slash though. He knows how to take care of his men. But does it make me a coward to run? To leave this hellhole?  Doesn't it go against my principals and everything I've stood for? Not backing up or backing down from whatever life throws you? I suppose it does. I suppose I'm stuck with this heck of a life. But. I could. I could leave it all behind. Fake a death or just disappear. They'd never know. Or would they? Sitting up, Kore looked over the camp. The fires had long since died. The air had grown cold. If they were to make it through the night, someone would need to stir the fires again. I gotta clear my head anyway.  Standing up, Kore silently made his way around the camp, avoiding being seen by the guards on watch and stirring the fire. Kore then looked around him. He was at the end of camp. There was the trees in the distance mountains. He felt to open. As much as he hated the area. He knew the droids wouldn't expect it. Especially since they were on the other side of the mountains. He suddenly had the feeling of imprisonment. I've gotta get outa here for awhile. Stepping around the fire. He ducked down slightly into the taller grass. Once he was about a mile from camp he took off running. Freedom swept over him in the gentle breeze. All cares of his troops, and the leaving behind of his helmet and weapons left, though a small irritating voice told him he shouldn't leave without at least his pistols. But he quieted it. Not caring if he dropped dead by the shot of a sniper. The responsibility of men under his command and care was lifted for a brief time as he ran. Kore slid to a stop next to many large boulders. Looking behind him. He was surprised he could no longer see the fires of camp. Good. I need to be away for awhile.  Taking a seat under a boulder, he leaned back on the cold stone. Why can't I bring myself to leave? I hate this life? But. I have a responsibility. I have something to live up to in my unit. Batch. Fellow officers. Brothers. Why do I have to be bound to them? Besides. After the war. What will become of us then? How the heck will we even make it through this war? Too much blood already . Sweat and tears are spent after every battle. Huhh.... One day I'll know. But not tonight sadly. Leaning his head back he stared at the stars. He wished over and over to have the ability to run away and never return. But wishes were childish things, he reminded himself that all too often. Kore watched a shooting star streak across clear crisp sky. They say their rare. But I've seen more shooting stars in my short life then a child growing up in a normal home playing with his or her friends. Playing War and when they finally see that one shooting star, they wish to be a soldier, then when their wish comes true, they wish to see another star shooting so they can wish for something else, like to be a little boy or girl again. So ironic. He stared off into the distance until the gray of dawn was on the horizon. Kore knew the watches would be wondering where their commander was. He forced himself up and took off back to his troops. The responsibilities of a commander settled back on his shoulders and his movements quickened fearing the senator taking over his leadership should he not be found. That he could not bear.
   Feeling torn and breathless he returned to camp to find it in chaos. Picking up his pistol he needed a way to grab their attention and this was the only way to grab it. a yell would only blend in. Sighing, he fired off a round into the air. Silence fell as everyone turned. "What the heck is going on?... Well don't be shy, someone c'mon start talking!" Drake walked up with Bayne. Bayne spoke first, "Well, when we, meaning Drake and me- got up this morning at before dawn, cause we were gonna take watch for two of the other guards. And they were both dead!-" Drake cut him off by adding, "And then when we looked up, we saw another two guards drop dead, sir!" Kore's face took on an angered look. Pushing past the troops over to the four dead clones, he stooped down. It had been four of the newer recruits. Neither had any blood on them. No blaster marks. No vibroblade cuts. "Poison." Kore said under his breath. Looking up, he asked if any of the food or drinks that were the company's dinner the night before were any different. "No sir. All was the same. We even purified the water since it was from a different  source  and cooked the meat a little overdone since someone left the fire to go talk to someone." Bayne looked at Drake as he finished. The other clones started talking among themselves. A clone's voice rose up from the rest "Sir! If I remember right, each clone here who was on cookin' duty, was distracted by some point or another!" Kore looked back down at the four dead youths. Thinking he combed his fingers though his slightly matted hair. Sighing he blocked out the clones voices to think Now. Who would be responsible for this? It isn't just by some random chance that all the men on cooking duty should turn away from the fire's for only a moment. But... All at different times. Could it be that-? No. No it isn't possible. She's an idiot. Not someone who could perform such a task. Or does she have me fooled? I swear. If it's her I'll shoot her right where she stands. "Alright boys. Settle down. Lemme ask you something. Where is our senator who is supposed to be guarded at all times? And who was assigned guard duty over her?" Bayne stepped up, "That would be, Drake, myself, those four dead young and two others who. Come to think of it. I haven't seen them. They were set to keep an eye on her last night and we haven't seen them all morning. " "Hmm... Bayne, get some troops and search the perimeter, make sure that no one gets out of our web, keep troops moving in the center keeping an eye out for her, bring some of them in some, we don't wanna scare her off. And, shoot to stun for now." "Shoot to stun sir?" Asked Drake. "Yes. I have a feeling. And if this feeling is right, I have a few questions. I have a feeling she's the cause of our comrades death." An angry murmur flowed around the company.

"That would be a gun."
"I'm sorry...a what?"
"The thing you're staring at in my hand. It's a gun."
"I don't quite understand what you're saying..."
"I. Have. A. Gun. In. My. Hand. It goes 'bang-bang' when I pull this thing right here. Then you fall down with a hunk of lead in your chest and you don't get up."
"That does not look very probable. That's a tiny little metal thing. It can't push me down."
"You fall down when you're DEAD. That's what this does."
"It...makes you dead? I would no longer be alive if you pulled that little metal bar?"
"Yes. Congratulations. You figured it out. Now shut up before I arrest you for more than taking a sword and waving it around a park. I'll arrest you for littering if you don't stop talking."
"No."
"No? Why 'no?'"
"Because you don't threaten me one bit, good citizen."
"Don't threaten you?! I'm going to pull this trigger nine times and leave you with nine holes in your face!"
"I really don't think you can do that. I still don't think your 'gun' is very threatening."
Craven pulled the trigger eight times, firing each shot directly above the old weirdo's head. The man ducked, reaching his hands up to protect his ear drums from shattering.
"That was noisy."
"Shut up. I have another bullet left."
"I sincerely doubt th-"
The last bullet struck the man directly in the face, and his neck snapped backwards as a red haze burst into existence in the space his head had previously occupied. Craven toed the body, which was most sincerely dead. He kicked the rusty, antique sword out of the old man's slack hand. "Moron," he grunted. "Brought a sword to a gunfight."
Behind a rather intricate maze of bushes, two figures watched the exchange.
"He just used my line. He isn't allowed to do that. I should shoot him."
"Dexter used your line about the doors yesterday and you didn't shoot him."
"That's because Dexter can break me. I have very brittle bones."
"You could shoot him before he comes close."
"Nope. He's too fast."
"You shouldn't shoot people, regardless."
"How about that guy? He just shot someone. Very violently. After missing from close range. He doesn't deserve a gun."
"Did it ever occur to you he was missing on purpose in order not to shoot the man?"
"No."

Alright. Good contest, tough choice, but Im goin with magna on this one.

Congrats Magna!