Leea Pandac
Character
Trosh was dead, his new helmet still shiny with the clean blaster hole through his rank insignia as it lay on the ground a few meters from his still form. Without an officer, the command had fallen to ‘Sarge.’ He had ordered they dig in while the designated comm called back to base.
Two hundred meters from the frontline and here they were digging graves. Nobody called them that of course; the official name for such ditches was a foxhole. But after watching two of her twelve-man team get blown to pieces while sitting in their ‘foxhole,’ Leea recognized the desperate holes they had excavated for what they were: shallow graves.
Today was supposed to be a momentous day, the first for Leea in a frontline position in her short career as a professional soldier. She had taken great care in cleaning her rifle, preparing her equipment and settling her armour just so, but now they were under attack far from the front and Leea was beginning to wonder if the front was indeed just an imaginary line on holo after all.
She had dug her death ditch, fired her weapon, and now she sat waiting for orders, trying desperately to resist the temptation to get up and stretch her cramped legs. The sniper responsible for the first casualty today was equally dead of course; his corpse lay under the tree he had fired from, several blast craters riddling his body. The tree itself was smoking where more covering fire had struck, perhaps it would burn soon start a fire in a few hours or days that would burn this whole damned forest to the ground. Just about everyone in the squad had fired on the sniper, Leea had no idea who had struck the fatal blow, but she hoped it was her.
“-ed fire support! Repeat, Area Seven-Four-Nine need fire support!”
The shout of the designated comm could be heard in the quiet. “Shut up! They’ll here you!” Leea thought, then realizing she now wondered who they were and if they were even here. She had seen all sort of uniforms on this world, friends and foes seemed to change on a daily basis and yet she had no idea what the purpose of the conflict was or even what the planet was called. She shifted in her little grave, the dirt, sweat, and mould mingling into a heady mud that stuck fast to her armour and the young Mirialan fought desperately to keep her rifle clear of the ground. She needed a clean weapon if there was another firefight.
As if the thought was some ancient summoning rite, Leea glimpsed forms moving in-between the trees. Taking a breath to speak, she was about to warn her squadmates when the corporal screeched, “There! Fire, Fire!”
It was only a moment as Leea turned her attention forward down the sights of her blaster rifle. Cleaned of the rust and corrosion that had plagued it when she first joined, it was nonetheless a relic which deserved to be placed in a collection at a museum instead of being a frontline tool. But the needs of whatever government she was employed with decided that this weapon had not yet earned its rest and so she had been tasked with cleaning it and then using it. Perhaps obsolete by modern standards, the blaster proved itself effective enough. Leea had yet to come across a standard infantryman’s armour that could withstand a shot or two from the blaster.
Alongside five others, Leea pulled the trigger and blinked as the blazing bolt of plasma flew into the darkness of the shaded woods. The light burned away any hope of seeing if it had struck something, indeed it could have struck a tree, rock, or person and Leea would be uncertain until after the firefight. Nonetheless, she was glad this was a daytime attack, a night posting would have been far more difficult without any of the advanced equipment some of the enemies had access to.
There was an exchange of fire, Leea fired a shot at a shadow; and from the trees, a shot would be fired back. Her squadmates in their graves seemed content to fire freely at the enemy, but Leea was less pleased with not knowing whether she had struck a target.
The firefight ended as suddenly as it had begun. Two grenades thrown into one of the graves had claimed the life of another squadmate, his remains were now scattered all over the trees, but the enemy was no longer firing and Leea had a feeling that it was a good sign. The fighting over, but the danger not yet passed, Leea dug a little deeper into the acrid mud, hoping that perhaps some of its brown and grey would cover whatever green skin might still be exposed. She tried to focus, to calm her wandering mind. She heard as if at a great distance, the designated comm talking far too loudly about artillery and support. She hoped both of those would be friendly, or nonexistent. She had never been shelled before.
---
OOC: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/little-wars-on-little-worlds.143828/#post-1964575
Two hundred meters from the frontline and here they were digging graves. Nobody called them that of course; the official name for such ditches was a foxhole. But after watching two of her twelve-man team get blown to pieces while sitting in their ‘foxhole,’ Leea recognized the desperate holes they had excavated for what they were: shallow graves.
Today was supposed to be a momentous day, the first for Leea in a frontline position in her short career as a professional soldier. She had taken great care in cleaning her rifle, preparing her equipment and settling her armour just so, but now they were under attack far from the front and Leea was beginning to wonder if the front was indeed just an imaginary line on holo after all.
She had dug her death ditch, fired her weapon, and now she sat waiting for orders, trying desperately to resist the temptation to get up and stretch her cramped legs. The sniper responsible for the first casualty today was equally dead of course; his corpse lay under the tree he had fired from, several blast craters riddling his body. The tree itself was smoking where more covering fire had struck, perhaps it would burn soon start a fire in a few hours or days that would burn this whole damned forest to the ground. Just about everyone in the squad had fired on the sniper, Leea had no idea who had struck the fatal blow, but she hoped it was her.
“-ed fire support! Repeat, Area Seven-Four-Nine need fire support!”
The shout of the designated comm could be heard in the quiet. “Shut up! They’ll here you!” Leea thought, then realizing she now wondered who they were and if they were even here. She had seen all sort of uniforms on this world, friends and foes seemed to change on a daily basis and yet she had no idea what the purpose of the conflict was or even what the planet was called. She shifted in her little grave, the dirt, sweat, and mould mingling into a heady mud that stuck fast to her armour and the young Mirialan fought desperately to keep her rifle clear of the ground. She needed a clean weapon if there was another firefight.
As if the thought was some ancient summoning rite, Leea glimpsed forms moving in-between the trees. Taking a breath to speak, she was about to warn her squadmates when the corporal screeched, “There! Fire, Fire!”
It was only a moment as Leea turned her attention forward down the sights of her blaster rifle. Cleaned of the rust and corrosion that had plagued it when she first joined, it was nonetheless a relic which deserved to be placed in a collection at a museum instead of being a frontline tool. But the needs of whatever government she was employed with decided that this weapon had not yet earned its rest and so she had been tasked with cleaning it and then using it. Perhaps obsolete by modern standards, the blaster proved itself effective enough. Leea had yet to come across a standard infantryman’s armour that could withstand a shot or two from the blaster.
Alongside five others, Leea pulled the trigger and blinked as the blazing bolt of plasma flew into the darkness of the shaded woods. The light burned away any hope of seeing if it had struck something, indeed it could have struck a tree, rock, or person and Leea would be uncertain until after the firefight. Nonetheless, she was glad this was a daytime attack, a night posting would have been far more difficult without any of the advanced equipment some of the enemies had access to.
There was an exchange of fire, Leea fired a shot at a shadow; and from the trees, a shot would be fired back. Her squadmates in their graves seemed content to fire freely at the enemy, but Leea was less pleased with not knowing whether she had struck a target.
The firefight ended as suddenly as it had begun. Two grenades thrown into one of the graves had claimed the life of another squadmate, his remains were now scattered all over the trees, but the enemy was no longer firing and Leea had a feeling that it was a good sign. The fighting over, but the danger not yet passed, Leea dug a little deeper into the acrid mud, hoping that perhaps some of its brown and grey would cover whatever green skin might still be exposed. She tried to focus, to calm her wandering mind. She heard as if at a great distance, the designated comm talking far too loudly about artillery and support. She hoped both of those would be friendly, or nonexistent. She had never been shelled before.
---
OOC: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/little-wars-on-little-worlds.143828/#post-1964575
