#9947, Alishu | SIDES OF A COIN
Prompt -- Soldiers on your side of the conflict are pinned down under fire from an unknown marksman with a superior position. The battlefield is his killing field and his ridge is shielded by a wall of rock serving as his cover. Beneath him, however, blinks the telltale signs of a console—rigged to blow the ridge when activated. Whether through activating the explosives or removing the threat by some other means, your soldiers are depending on you to see the field secured for safe passage.
_______________

One marksman, one rifle, one ridge.

One is enough.

One is enough because one is all it takes to stop an entire line of soldiers. One is enough because one shot, one sharp red streak followed by the telltale crack of blasterfire, as if thunder after lightning, is all it takes to make one kill. One kill is all you need before cries of "Sniper!" pierce the air and men are put into disarray.

Two shots. Three shots. Four shots.

But one was enough.

One was enough to send a man leaping forth from the ranks, sprinting across the battlefield. One was enough because he believed in himself. One was enough because one act of heroism is all it takes to inspire courage. 

One disciple, one sword, one purpose. Five shots. Six shots. All misses.

One was enough.

Alishu covered ground like no other soldier, moving with Force-enhanced speed the caused his steps to land powerfully and launch him forward. He darted ahead of the others on a personal mission to draw the wrath of the sniper on the ridge, and draw it he did, using Force-enhanced senses to dodge out of the way of each bit of blasterfire directed at his person. The marksman was well trained, but so was the Sullustan, a former Obelisk who had been raised in combat since birth; yet both were capable assassins in their own right, perhaps too capable.

There was some wonder as to whether the unknown marksman on the ridge was Force-sensitive, or whether he was Odan-Urr or Weequay or whatever party might be trying to profit from this battle. Every shot from the sniper's blaster rifle was made with unnatural precision, but Alishu knew such feats were possible even if the rifle was in the hands of a mundane. The bar for non-Force sensitives in the Brotherhood had been raised over the years, and mercenaries and loyalists across the galaxy had rose to meet the challenge. 

With a final jump, Alishu put himself on the ridge, only to be met with the thrust of a narrowly avoided vibroblade. The marksman, a Gand in the species' traditional garb of mask and robe, had abandoned his rifle for a sword. Alishu swung out with his own sword and the two clashed, the vibrating metal of their weapons sparking as they slid against one another.

They were not evenly matched. Alishu pushed the attack in his unusual way, and the Marksman Gand relied all too heavily on the defensive forms of his chosen sword style. Eventually, one jab of the sword slipped through the Gand's defenses, and one was enough; there was no room for error in this modern age of combat, with its incredibly deadly arsenal. The Gand fell.

One would do well not to forget this story. One is enough, and one is always enough. Never underestimate one, because one is all it takes. One decision can sway the fate of many, one oversight can bring down the pride of an empire, and one sniper can turn the tides of battle.