Roas Sosiri

Roas Sosiri Oct 6, 2013 12:26:02 GMT -8

Post by Walter Avius on Oct 6, 2013 12:26:02 GMT -8

The sun greeted the day in a fog of haze and sulfuric residue, the scent of night exercises and training fresh in the dew. A noticeable distance from the Estate of the Ten, the land carved out from the world for usage by the Sith turned back to a reclaimed natural forest. The wall of the forest line was largely tree based with heavily dispersed white and black oaks, the ground littered with brown leafs and green leafs of new growth, with few grass species intermixed on the forest floor. Raos Sosiri awoke to the smell of fire burning, the feeling of warmth in the early morning coolness that drifted towards him like a warm hand greeting an old friend.

"I'm not sure that's a great idea."

Can't really cook bacon without a fire, now can we. The spotter spoke quietly, a dull whisper, twig slouched out of the side of his mouth. John Lament was dirty and he smelled of soiled linen and laundry long overdue for a wash. Old logs composed their seating, much to Raos's displeasure as he arose chewing on bacon, burnt black. A metal can sat at the edge of the fire and heated the remains of a coffee ration, all that was left from the canteen. It was earthy, tasted of honey, and smelled of caramel. The body was preferable but the sweetness almost made Raos gag.

"God damn boy, you put enough sugar in 'dis."He spit the coffee across the fire and made a sour face. It sizzled and smoked and quickly forgot the insult. Raos was a wiry figure just under two meters, long and old of face, and treated the forest as if it were where he belonged. Stubble was beginning to collect around his chin and sideburns.
Well it was either that or black, the ration only had these packets of sugar and cream mixed.
"Next time, just leave it black. We best get going, can't let 'dem heavies beat us to it."
I wouldn't mind so much, it's just training.The scout kicked a log in the fire, shifting the feline nature of the flames towards Raos, and sending smoke and embers of black and orange into the morning canopy.
"Well I do mind. So get your ass up, stomp out that fire, and get your pack. We're out in five."

Raos was a man of his word and one in a hurry at that. They set off in a local cattle trail that had been taken back by the forest, the edges bulged out of the earth like it had been stamped and the center grew up tall with green and blue grasses. The route was a brisk walk to the east, the terrain hilly with low lying valleys and hollows intermingled. Apple and Cherry trees composed the lower and upper canopy of most of the walk. The trail was narrow and winding, goosgrass and rattle snake plantains covered any noticeable patches of soil that may have been blown free of litter and debris. As they reached the hollows and moved about, small pools of water collected and the vegetation transitioned to wild roses and swamp mallow and honeysuckle, a mixture of whites, reds, and pinks made motley against the green back ground of the unchanging leaves. Hardwood trees near the watered hollows showed signs of purple and red lichens that indicated possible flood lines, well over two feet above the forest floor.

The dead forest didn't move and no noise could be heard, with the exception of the crunch of grass and litter by the walking pair. Occasionally, the wind would breathe life into the world around them. The dead tree snags and gnarled stumps, clinging to their living relatives, sang a haunting symphony of time passed. Suspended grape vines shifted and clapped against one another, hanging hollow gourds whistled in chorus with the sad tune. Leaves shimmered and danced reluctantly against their captive branches, some fell to the ground as consequence of their enthusiasm.

Their walk led to a fading of the forest, transitioning from large oaks and fruit trees into a grassy plain, the sun glowing orange and white in the blue morning sky. The grass on the ground gently waved to greet them, the soft wind, hardly noticeable in the forest, caressed the traveler’s skin and eased their pace. The spotter stopped, mouth agape and a silly expression on his face.

"What. You ain't ever heard of Drebins pass?"Raos shrugged and rolled his shoulders to ease the weight of the armor, pack, and the E-11s sniper rifle, a modified blaster rifle that extended over half the length of the man and weighed nearly six kilograms. It was well maintained and shined a brown chrome in the sunlight, a weapon of extensive use and modified specifically for its user.
No, can't say that I have.
"It's quite the interesting location. I used to play here as a boy."
That must have been near millennia ago, right? What was going on then, the republic army dissolution and the formation of the new Sith empire? Lament smirked, the sniper continued to walk un-phased. It didn't appear as if anyone was in sight and with the tracking and soft, yet tall grass, there were no foot prints to be found.
"You see 'dose mountains up 'der, the soft peaks?"He pointed towards two twin peaks to the north.
Yeah, what about 'em?
"Well, they're made of shit. Or compost anyway by the local Drebins. Many years ago, 'dem mountains were just steaming piles of compost. A long ice age layered sheets of ice upon compost upon stone and made those. Quite the feat, 'eh?"
Yeah, real interesting. Is that our point of contact?
"Nah, we're heading to Diathim's fist. Right up 'der."

Diathim's fist was a peculiarly named rock formation as it resembled more closely outstretched fingers than a fist. The plains extended to the nape of a mountain ridge in an easterly direction, met by an initially gently sloping hill. Tors collected in mass along the hill side covered in a moss grass and damp from the morning moisture and lack of sunlight. Wild flowers and briars were interspersed along the hillside and the air moved from arid to thick with every step upwards, slowly transitioned to a thick canopy of alpine and cedar. The peak came to a large standing wall that ascended into a monadnock, a seemingly unusual outcrop of stone carved away from the mountain by wind and rain. Atop, similar vegetation grew with an abundance of rain and soil carried upward by adiabatic storms. From the plateau, five butte's extended towards the sky, composed heavily of granite and limestone that shined crystalline in the sun and hued a dark gray. Due to the recent changes in the environment, with gradual increases in planetary temperature and precipitation, the peak was always covered in water and saw rain nearly half a year. All someone had to do was camp out for a week and they could be witness to sheets of stone plummeting down the mountain scape in response to the constant bombardment.

What is that god awful smell?They moved with a lazy purpose, the three days prior giving evidence to exhaustion. Their path was a long dried up and cracked entrenched river that ran up the side of Diathim's and took a turn upwards near Drebin's pass. The soil was heavy in iron, a brownish orange, and debris of run off from the compost was engulfed and buried in small graves resting all about the path.
"That's the compost. What with it being summer and all, it's gettin' all heated up and cookin'. Nothin' like hot shit to get ya movin' towards higher ground."

The river began to reinvigorate, turning from dry dust to moist mud to a tender trickle. They took a turn up the mountain and entered the cedar and alpine forest with some haste, the snap of wind adding color to their cheeks and chapping the skin. Raos spotted a ravine that likely descended back down the hill at an angle and ended near a cavern. It was given life by a small hole in the skin of the mountain marked by a tor jutting ten feet in the air. He took the opportunity to replenish his water supply and continued upward.

They had brought spikes in anticipation for climbing the mountainside of Diathim's fist. Raos went first and took ample time to strap his gear down and replace the soles of his boots with crampons, long silver claws extending nearly half a foot from the tip of his boots. The cliff was angled away from them, but so slight away from straight up that it only softened the effort needed to ascend. Carabiners, attached to the climbing harness that wrapped around his shoulders, waist, and thighs, jingled with every upward sling of the climbing axe. It was a slow crawl but gave Raos time to appreciate the training that allowed him to survive the day.

"I never asked you what battalion you were from."He yelled down the cliff, the wind nearly shaking him loose. The spotter climbed ten feet behind him, the rope between the two nearly taught.
Well, I was originally stationed under Commander Donavin of the Harbinger battalion. But a month ago, they switched me over to Sorrow, under Commander Thomas. Both are huge pains in the ass so the move didn't mind me much.
"Yeah, they moved me around quite a bit when I first got here too. They finally settled me under Commander Sokraveno of Regret. I tell you what, that man can put a bullet through the eye ball of a squirrel at over four miles in high wind."
No way man, that's impossible! Raos had to slow down or risk tugging the spotter up and unhinging a climbing spike. He paused and hammered another in, crumbs of rocks fell down and skimmed the man below.
"Swear to god, saw with my own two eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen, he didn't need no spotter or nothin'."
No...I mean that's impressive and all, but where the hell did they get the squirrels?
"Oh, some sort of introduction by the local government about thirty years back. Something about needing to help repopulate a tree species or compete with a local devourer or something like that. They were shipped in from Nelvaan."
Heluva lot a mullah to just help some tree species.
"Well, you know 'dem government folks. They like to throw money at the problem and see if 'dat helps. And if it don't, they just throw some more."
Sounds about right. Mom and pop back home never approved of government intervention when they weren't needed.
"Sounds like good folks."
Yeah, they were.

The top came eventually, grape vines and poison vines dropped down the cliff and patches of grass angled off to be seen long before completing the ascent. Raos grabbed a handful, not caring about the poisonous variety, and hoisted himself up, rolling over the top and breathing like he had just run a marathon. Maybe I should help him up? Nah, he should be able to keep up. He waited for the man to complete the upward trek himself, the climb as much proof as any that he were fit to be Raos' spotter. He made it eventually.

Thanks! He puffed out, grasping white knuckled against his knees and panting. Raos just laughed and patted him on the back."Don't you mention it, 'dats what I'm here fer."

They took a break in the form of a slow walk through the heavy hickory and walnut groves that surrounded the extended fingers of the mountain. Raos munched on preserved crackers that came packaged in foiled packets that shined silvery and were covered in fine black print. Ingredients: flour, shortening, yeast, and baking soda. No shit. His spotter took the time to catch his breath, the exertion enough to temporarily stymie his appetite.

The webbing between the fingers of the mountain lied barren, large power lines that supplied electricity to small surrounding villages extended from Kuat city to the northern territories and scraped the top of the monadnock, leaving a wake of dead trees under its high noon shadow that ran in stripes against the thick vegetation. The cords were thick and black, three separated by two meters of length, and extended in a droop from two large metal towers that stood solemn upon large mesas on opposite sides of Diathim's fist. From an aerial view, the plateaus appeared as shoulders to the complimented upward fist.

The crampons kicked against the sheeting of the middle butte, the climbing axe of the sniper followed in practiced unison. The spotter snapped the carabiners back on and hammered a spike at 2 meter intervals up the small mountain. The fingers were much smaller than the initial climb; it seemed as if they had ascended in no time. The tops were mostly barren, covered in patches of knotgrass with parasitic broom rape extending out of cracks in the jagged rocks.

"You never did ask what we're doin' up here."
I figured you'd tell me eventually.
"Well, you see 'dat power line down 'der?"He moved his shoulders and the pack fell to the ground. He laid his rifle on top of it and began unlatching the climbing harness.
Yeah
"Well 'dats our mission. Reckon we're here to monitor and prevent destruction. The other team has been tasked with shutting down power to Kamaderen, one of the northern cities up in 'dat direction."He pointed in some haphazard form behind him, the harness clanked to the ground as the carabiners jingled against the rocks.
And what, you think shooting that thing might prevent that? He pointed to the sniper rifle.
"Well, that E-11 right 'der has a range of over three miles. You'll spot fer me and we'll wait out the day. I imagine they'll go easy and transport, likely try to fly the length of it and destroy the cross section right 'der. I hit 'em with a few shots. They're only training shots but I figure it'll do. No one likes falling 'dis sort of distance and 'dem rocks will hurt so much you'll wish you were dead."

Raos laid down and unsnapped the tripod from the gun, mounting it near the edge of the cliff. He pulled a brown tarp from the pack and rolled himself into it, getting as comfortable as was possible on rocks and jagged extrusions that cut through skin. His spotter leaned down and pulled his scope. The wind was unusually calmer near the top of the finger, the day was clear with a few cumulus clouds wagging across the blue sky.

"Seems we made it just in time."He flipped the cap on the scope while whispering; the gunship came over the hill like a bat out of hell. Two pilots sat in the front cockpit, tinted goggles and helmets were all that was visible. A gunner sat on each side of the vehicle and two men were benched within the internal cargo. They wore standard Dura-armor, brown with black stripes, and the mounted cannons were Z-6 rotary canons armed with unusual blue chains of shells that were likely training ammunition to prevent fatal blows. Though after getting hit with 'dat thing, I would wish it was fatal.

Two miles and closing fast. Wind: three mile per hour south by south west.

The vehicle came to a loud hover, the busting and thumping of the engine echoed across the canyon and filled the air with the smell of grease and combustion. One of the gunners turned the rotary canon towards the powerline, almost 75 degree upward, and fired. The power of the gun was enough to cause the entire gunship to recoil. Raos let loose two bolts. One hit the closest gun on the primary accentuating chamber, bringing it to smoke. The second flew through the cargo area and lodged itself in the ammunition chain of the other Z-6 rotary canon. All the men recoiled and jumped to the shot, the transport turned and the second gunner began firing towards the finger. All it took were a few shots before it jammed up and quit running, but he had managed to carve steps against the finger, leaving debris and sheeting falling to the top of the monadnock.

"Dat'll do pig."The transport turned and made a straight cut towards the finger, ascending with ferocious speed. "Well, I can't say I expected that."
They're coming right for us! Before they knew it, the vehicle was 100 feet above them and the two men in the cargo bay dropped line and slid down towards them. Raos rolled over and let a bolt loose before they landed, nailing one in the chest and putting him out of the chase. He couldn't get the second bolt off in time before the second man was not ten feet from him. He had landed with a resilient thud, crushing a broom rape beneath his feet. His armor was rusting near the edges and old from wear and tear. A large dragonsnake was painted on the chest, curling around a tree that sat on the edge of a causeway. Wrath. Raos was on his feet in the blink of an eye, Lament stumbled towards the cliff edge. He was no force sensitive but Raos could spot fear when he saw it."Watch it boy, that cliff ain't no place fer ya."

Don't worry about him! The armored man moved forward and Raos rolled underneath the closeline, turning and coming to a kneel away from the man. He extended a foot and smacked the back of the armor, a grunt was the only consequence."Watch it now, I'd hate to see that pretty armor scuffed up more 'dan it already is."The gunner let out a scream, hardly audible over the sound of the spectating ship, charging towards Raos. The sniper leaned forward and pulled the climbing hammer from his belt loop, swinging towards the man's abdomen, just where the breastplate separated to allow leaning back and forward. It deflected off and dented the armor piece as Raos moved clear of the charge."Now listen here boy, ya'll have done failed yer mission. No need to exacerbate the situation."
We didn't fail you idiot. Our mission was to spot you and leave you dead on the mountain. The man huffed and clenched at his side. Dead on the mountain? This isn't a training exercise. The men up in the ship have been instructed to not engage you. I will be the one to finish this. The gunner unsheathed a dagger from his hide, the shine of the steel rippled in the sunlight and was etched and serrated.
"Well, I'm not sure I like the sound of that all too kindly. Mayhaps you climb on back up that rope and leave nothing but yer pride to cook in this heat."
I don't think so.

He charged forward with a speed that no man in that sort of armor should have. Raos ducked the first horizontal slice and parried a stab towards the abdomen. He danced away, light as a feather, looking wilder than he ever had. As quick as he could get away, the gunner was on him again, stabbing and slicing wildly. His other arm followed in an arc, punching where the blade had missed. It was a dizzying and feral fighting form, a blur of brown armored fist and cutting steal, Raos could do nothing but just get out of the way. They had gone full circle on the mountain top, the gunner obviously tiring. He stabbed towards Raos once more, putting his body into the force of the strike. The sniper caught the attack with both arms, and punched towards the elbow just where the armor parted. The knife cut through rubber necking and flesh, blood spurting out in arterial sprays against the orange cliff top. The gunner grabbed for the knife as Raos pushed him away, flinging him to the ground. It wasn't until this point that Raos noticed an absence of presence, blood pooling around the soon to be departed.

He leaned over the edge of the finger, weight focused towards his core to keep from falling. Sadness released any color from his face as he spotted Lament, or what was left of him: a shredded corpse dangling from a walnut tree on the lower mountain top.

The ride back to the barracks was as silent as it was loud. The men had hoisted the armored body and Lament underneath the gunship and flew high to keep from knocking them against the upper canopy. Those not piloting were busy working on the guns that Raos had fired on, to no avail. Raos merely leaned against the top of the vehicle and stared off into the distance, the trees below a blurry mess of greens and browns, the wind was cold but the sun gave reprieve. They set down in the barracks landing area in what felt like no time, likely because it took less than fifteen minutes to make it back. As the crows flies.

They were greeted by a large man, black and shiny of skin with a black tank top and military combat apparel. His face was not really a face so much as a peculiar looking bucket, red and brown and scuffed all over. Raos got out of the vehicle, followed by the gunners, and they found themselves at attention from muscle memory.

You, you, you, you, and you. You may go. Instruct Commander Kaserp of your field time resignations. A skillet will be your new occupation. He pointed towards the two pilots, the two gunners, and the remaining cargo occupier. Now fall from sight! .It was a mixture of surprise and disbelief, that so much weighed in the balance from a simple mistake. They removed themselves from the Lord Commanders sight with reluctance and a hint of audacity. The large man approached the smaller sniper. What is your name?
"Raos Sosiri, lead sniper and reconnaissance expert."
I didn't ask you for your rank. Where is your second?
"He uhh..."
Oh, that's right. The commander cut him off and pointed behind the Raos. You've got him jammed under the landing skids like canned meat. I was watching your progress over the day.
Raos wasn't surprised; the light armor they wore carried surveillance equipment for the intelligence department to study efficiency. Lord Avius patted Raos's breast plate and with an undetectable speed, sent a haymaker to the snipers jaw with the opposing hand. He tumbled to the ground. God damn, nearly knocked my damn head off. I couldn't even see it. As soon as he was on the ground, Lord Avius had him cross gripped and lifted into the air, pinned against the powered down transport ship. He released one arm and held the man with an almost robot like grip. What was your mistake?

Raos could barely spit out the answer, the clamped grip nearly chocking the breath from him."I didn't anticipate their true directive."Walter punched him hard in the stomach, caving in the armor. I had not realized you were force sensitive. That you were capable of such precognition. Now, what was your mistake? He punched him again, the sound of cracking followed and Raos heaved forward, blood dribbling from his mouth. "I didn't shoot the second gunner before he landed."

Wrong again! He hit the man across the face. Raos felt a tooth break and his cheek bone splintered. The crack of the bridge of his septum was the least of his worries as he coughed up more blood. Walter slammed the nearly lifeless body against the hard outer shell of the transport ship, Raos fell to the ground a limp stump of a man. You got too close, you cared. Walter leaned down and grabbed the man by the collar, straightening it out and flipping it back down from a disheveled state. This armor will not do at all, will it? We will have to get you something new. Report to Commander Durant for re-assignment. You are being promoted under Kaserp. Congratulations. Walter stood up and walked away, motioning to a few soldiers to get the sniper to the medic.

Why is it so dark? His eye was swollen shut already, ribs broken in several spots, and the world began to dim around him as he was placed on the stretcher and carried away.

Post by Walter Avius on Oct 6, 2013 11:14:51 GMT -8

Post by Walter Avius on Oct 6, 2013 12:26:02 GMT -8