08-09-2018, 12:46 AM
Aelurian Coast, Late Night
Ever since the death of Anael Noguera, the Kivasekian Brigades on Aeluria had gone onto high alert, putting on nightly patrols along the coastline, making sure nothing would get on or off of the island without the Kivasekians knowing it.
Henrik, Sebastian, and the two other guards had been taken off-island in order to investigate the shooting incident as well as protecting them from retribution. In Sebastian's place, another officer by the name of Zigmund Medvedik took charge to form a larger platoon to guard the northern coast, a task he thought would be quite easy.
Sitting on a makeshift bench from a fallen tree, Zigmund lit what was left of his nicotine supply with a small flame; a half-smoked, hand-made cigarette. As he inhaled the rotten smoke, he looked around the treeline where other platoon members were similarly lounging about and silently wishing they could go home.
Coming from behind him, a feminine voice approached, "Hey, Ziggy." Turning his head minimally, he saw his squadmate Angelina take a seat next to him, "How're you holding up, big guy?"
Shaking his head, Zigmund exhaled a small stream of smoke before handing off his glowing paper to Angelina, "Same as anyone else; afraid that every night is the last one and wanting to go home, away from this damn heat wave... You?"
Shrugging as she took a small drag and flicked some ash off, Angelina spoke softly, "I just need a good cigarette."
Zigmund shook his head, looking out onto the rolling waves with the moon painting it a bright white, "You have a bright outlook on this otherwise?"
"Pretty much."
"Whatever you say, Ang. You'll be glad when we go home from this 'extended vacation'."
Angelina passed the cigarette back and stood up, walking to the west as she talked, "I'm going to check Jan's squad, see if anything's amiss there."
Zigmund waved her off as he put the cigarette back into his mouth and picked up his rifle, brushing the sand off of it.
Silent minutes accented by the odd bird in the leaves above passed before a shout of alarm came from the west, "Czyako (Kivasekian term for 'unknown invaders') from the sea!"
Standing up, confused by the shout without any prior warning, Zigmund, along with a few others made some careful steps towards the shout before a shot rang out from the direction, prompting Zigmund to give a command, "Squad! Move to assist!"
Arriving only a few moments later, a firefight had begun between the two group, with the Kivasekians staying behind the treeline as they fired at the unknown assailants. Taking cover behind a rock along with another soldier, Zigmund used a radio to notify the platoon HQ of the engagement before firing upon the enemy's landing craft, damaging the motor. Seeing their motor destroyed and with no way out, he enemy stopped firing and cowered behind the hull, throwing their guns onto the sand and raising their hands up into the air. As he was reloading his rifle with stripper clips, Zigmund called out to the soldiers to cease fire, the shots deadening to a few random shots before ZIgmund called for a ceasefire again.
"¡Nos rendimos! No dispares!" A young man stood up with his hands in the air, shaking visibly as he faced a dark treeline. Zigmund stepped out with his rifle pointed at him, the muzzle of the rifle only a foot or two away from the man's face. Unable to speak Spanish, Zigmund motioned with his gun for the main to strip off his gear, to which he complied. Gathering one other survivor from the failed attack on the island, Zigmund had three soldiers take the two to the platoon HQ and question them.
Returning to his own line, Zigmund crouched next to a wounded soldier with a bullet graze against his leg, "He going to be okay. doc?"
The medic, who was wrapping his leg up, nodded and clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Without a doubt, unless it gets infected. He'll need a while for it to heal properly, though some basic cleaning and bed rest will be best for him." Patting the soldier's chest, the medic smiled, "This sonovagun walked right up to them and asked who they were. The boys in the boat got scared and shot a round next to his leg, thinking he was the only one." Chuckling fondly at the recent memory, he looked up to Zigmund, "That's right around when Angelina waltzed over and called out for you guys. Damn fine shot she is, too." Grunting as he picked the wounded up to get his arm over his shoulder, the medic started walking towards HQ, "Doubt they'll try this again."
Ever since the death of Anael Noguera, the Kivasekian Brigades on Aeluria had gone onto high alert, putting on nightly patrols along the coastline, making sure nothing would get on or off of the island without the Kivasekians knowing it.
Henrik, Sebastian, and the two other guards had been taken off-island in order to investigate the shooting incident as well as protecting them from retribution. In Sebastian's place, another officer by the name of Zigmund Medvedik took charge to form a larger platoon to guard the northern coast, a task he thought would be quite easy.
Sitting on a makeshift bench from a fallen tree, Zigmund lit what was left of his nicotine supply with a small flame; a half-smoked, hand-made cigarette. As he inhaled the rotten smoke, he looked around the treeline where other platoon members were similarly lounging about and silently wishing they could go home.
Coming from behind him, a feminine voice approached, "Hey, Ziggy." Turning his head minimally, he saw his squadmate Angelina take a seat next to him, "How're you holding up, big guy?"
Shaking his head, Zigmund exhaled a small stream of smoke before handing off his glowing paper to Angelina, "Same as anyone else; afraid that every night is the last one and wanting to go home, away from this damn heat wave... You?"
Shrugging as she took a small drag and flicked some ash off, Angelina spoke softly, "I just need a good cigarette."
Zigmund shook his head, looking out onto the rolling waves with the moon painting it a bright white, "You have a bright outlook on this otherwise?"
"Pretty much."
"Whatever you say, Ang. You'll be glad when we go home from this 'extended vacation'."
Angelina passed the cigarette back and stood up, walking to the west as she talked, "I'm going to check Jan's squad, see if anything's amiss there."
Zigmund waved her off as he put the cigarette back into his mouth and picked up his rifle, brushing the sand off of it.
Silent minutes accented by the odd bird in the leaves above passed before a shout of alarm came from the west, "Czyako (Kivasekian term for 'unknown invaders') from the sea!"
Standing up, confused by the shout without any prior warning, Zigmund, along with a few others made some careful steps towards the shout before a shot rang out from the direction, prompting Zigmund to give a command, "Squad! Move to assist!"
Arriving only a few moments later, a firefight had begun between the two group, with the Kivasekians staying behind the treeline as they fired at the unknown assailants. Taking cover behind a rock along with another soldier, Zigmund used a radio to notify the platoon HQ of the engagement before firing upon the enemy's landing craft, damaging the motor. Seeing their motor destroyed and with no way out, he enemy stopped firing and cowered behind the hull, throwing their guns onto the sand and raising their hands up into the air. As he was reloading his rifle with stripper clips, Zigmund called out to the soldiers to cease fire, the shots deadening to a few random shots before ZIgmund called for a ceasefire again.
"¡Nos rendimos! No dispares!" A young man stood up with his hands in the air, shaking visibly as he faced a dark treeline. Zigmund stepped out with his rifle pointed at him, the muzzle of the rifle only a foot or two away from the man's face. Unable to speak Spanish, Zigmund motioned with his gun for the main to strip off his gear, to which he complied. Gathering one other survivor from the failed attack on the island, Zigmund had three soldiers take the two to the platoon HQ and question them.
Returning to his own line, Zigmund crouched next to a wounded soldier with a bullet graze against his leg, "He going to be okay. doc?"
The medic, who was wrapping his leg up, nodded and clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Without a doubt, unless it gets infected. He'll need a while for it to heal properly, though some basic cleaning and bed rest will be best for him." Patting the soldier's chest, the medic smiled, "This sonovagun walked right up to them and asked who they were. The boys in the boat got scared and shot a round next to his leg, thinking he was the only one." Chuckling fondly at the recent memory, he looked up to Zigmund, "That's right around when Angelina waltzed over and called out for you guys. Damn fine shot she is, too." Grunting as he picked the wounded up to get his arm over his shoulder, the medic started walking towards HQ, "Doubt they'll try this again."
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