Control, a scene

Thunder cracked in the distance. Seconds later the sky flashed and for a moment all was illuminated. Bodies littered the ground, carnage everywhere. 

Then merciful blackness again. Purple afterimages of the dead lingering with every blink. The wind picks up as a cold rain begins falling. 

The sounds of the dying interspersed with the wind rattling through the trees does not make the situation more hospitable. The sounds of survivors putting the lingering out of their misery punctuates the rolling thunder.

I watch it all from the safety of my room. Twelve monitors cast images of death of destruction from every angle. It was a perfect slaughter. I turn up the ambient sound and hear the satisfying smashing of a skull under a boot. 

I have monitors two and seven replaying the initial firefight. Pinpoint accuracy was the key. Drones kept to the low canopy, marking targets and taking out sentries. By the time the troops rolled in the battle was done and clean up was all that was left.

Radio chatter and increasingly howling wind fills the room. I highlight the bodies we need to bring back and assorted goodies. Minutes passed from initial conflict to laying charges to incinerate the scene.

Brutal efficiency and perfect planning. I leave one drone behind as the crew pulls out. The sounds of thunder and crackling flames fill the room as I watch the replays. A constant loop of violence playing around me. 

Life is good.

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