Rain. Of course it would rain, this night of all nights.
Shael glowered at the thick storm clouds in the sky. The rain had started to fall steadily a bell ago, soaking her hair and clothing. She was wholly shrouded in black attire, save for the red goggles that rested over her eyes. At least she had enough sense to equip herself with gear that afforded her plenty of traction; her gloves and boots were made to scale difficult landscape. The rafters that supported the deck next to the Bokaisen Hot Springs usually would not pose a huge challenge for her, but when bathed in rain, all the surfaces become more slick and precarious.
But this was the best spot. She had scouted out the area around the docks for multiple nights, to see where she would gain the best vantage point. Up high and north of the pier, she could see the entire length of the landing. Rain just made her footing slightly tricky is all. She adjusted the setting of her goggles with a few presses on the side of the frame, allowing her to focus in on those below.
The sole Garlean soldier walking the docks was easy to find. Grave assured her that there would be only one Imperial assigned to patrol for a sennight, so that there would be no mistaken identity about her kill target. At least the rain deterred random bypassers from strolling onto the dock, and the stalls had closed up early due to the unfavorable weather.
So who in hells was sitting at the end of the pier? Shael squinted as she saw the Garlean approach a seated figure, a female hyur from the look of things. What surprised her even more was that he then took a seat next to the woman. Imperial soldiers weren’t known to be inclined to carry on any conversations with non-Garleans.
Stop asking questions, Shael. She had already delayed in carrying this out. The time had run out for any lingering doubts or hesitation. What did she care about a Garlean anyoad? She had killed plenty of them during her time with the Resistance, and even more recently in the Gyr Abania conflict. Was it the fact that Grave wanted him dead that bothered her? Or the fact that she had left the war, to escape to Othard, and this was just her returning back to her old ways again?
This is different, she told herself with a grimace. After this job, Grave agreed to leave both Nabi and Tserende out of his business. Any kill was worth getting him away from those she cared about. She drew her rifle from her back, and with a snap and a click, affixed it onto a vertical wooden beam. She adjusted the scope mounted on her rifle and squinted into it. With a flick of the finger, she activated the targeting light. Her finger hovered over the trigger as she guided the small blue pinpoint over the Imperial’s back then the back of his head. Her finger was ready to pull the trigger, when the woman the Imperial was seated next to, turned to face him.
She was a female Midlander, of fair complexion and dark reddish hair. Shael did not recognize her, but her face reminded her of another redhead she knew back in Eorzea. In that moment, her hand twitched involuntarily, shifting the target light onto her forehead. Shite. Shael shifted it back quickly. The last remnants of Grave’s drugs were still running through her system. Stop. Hesitating. She fixed the blue mote of light squarely on the back of the Garlean soldier’s head and fired.
She had taken such sniper shots before in the war. There was never a satisfaction to it, catching the enemy unawares and watching them slump forward lifeless in an instant. But it was something she was good at and she could not deny its efficiency and effectiveness. And when the job was done, she would at least feel some sense of completion that her preparation had paid off in the end.
This time, that twitch of her finger undid all her groundwork. At the last minute, the soldier reached for the woman, pulling her down and shielding her with his own body. Her first shot sailed right over the man. Shael hardly had time to think. The fact that he was using his body to protect the woman -- one who did not seem to be an Imperial -- nagged at the back of her mind, but her element of surprise was blown. With a foul grimace, she squinted into the scope again. The Garlean had ducked his head out of her line of sight, but his broad back would do. Enough holes would be almost as quick in bleeding him out anyroad. She fired two more shots into his upper back and another aimed for his flank.
She saw his body jerk twice as the impact of her shots pierced through his armor. She saw him draw his own weapon, a gun that hung from his hip, but he maintained his defensive stance over the woman. It would do him no good. She was not her target anyroad. All Shael had to do was to keep shooting him until he died.
But then a white shield suddenly grew around the Garlean and the woman, creating a dome of blinding light around them.
"Shite," Shael muttered under her breath. "What in soddin' hells..." She pulled back from the scope, one hand tapping at the frame of her goggles as she squinted. She tapped again as the scanners were recalibrating, but she already knew what the problem was. It was a lot of aether to get past to see what was within. And with the sudden appearance of a beacon in an otherwise poorly lit pier, she was starting to hear shouts from the watchtowers that the Sekiseigumi manned. Whatever and whoever had managed to coalesce all that aether was also raising the alarm. Her chance of succeeding in eliminating her kill target was fading into the wind.
She scowled a deep grimace. With practiced dexterity, she collapsed the stand and holstered the rifle onto her back. She took a few steps back and took a running leap, off the rafters and into the waters below.
Shael glowered at the thick storm clouds in the sky. The rain had started to fall steadily a bell ago, soaking her hair and clothing. She was wholly shrouded in black attire, save for the red goggles that rested over her eyes. At least she had enough sense to equip herself with gear that afforded her plenty of traction; her gloves and boots were made to scale difficult landscape. The rafters that supported the deck next to the Bokaisen Hot Springs usually would not pose a huge challenge for her, but when bathed in rain, all the surfaces become more slick and precarious.
But this was the best spot. She had scouted out the area around the docks for multiple nights, to see where she would gain the best vantage point. Up high and north of the pier, she could see the entire length of the landing. Rain just made her footing slightly tricky is all. She adjusted the setting of her goggles with a few presses on the side of the frame, allowing her to focus in on those below.
The sole Garlean soldier walking the docks was easy to find. Grave assured her that there would be only one Imperial assigned to patrol for a sennight, so that there would be no mistaken identity about her kill target. At least the rain deterred random bypassers from strolling onto the dock, and the stalls had closed up early due to the unfavorable weather.
So who in hells was sitting at the end of the pier? Shael squinted as she saw the Garlean approach a seated figure, a female hyur from the look of things. What surprised her even more was that he then took a seat next to the woman. Imperial soldiers weren’t known to be inclined to carry on any conversations with non-Garleans.
Stop asking questions, Shael. She had already delayed in carrying this out. The time had run out for any lingering doubts or hesitation. What did she care about a Garlean anyoad? She had killed plenty of them during her time with the Resistance, and even more recently in the Gyr Abania conflict. Was it the fact that Grave wanted him dead that bothered her? Or the fact that she had left the war, to escape to Othard, and this was just her returning back to her old ways again?
This is different, she told herself with a grimace. After this job, Grave agreed to leave both Nabi and Tserende out of his business. Any kill was worth getting him away from those she cared about. She drew her rifle from her back, and with a snap and a click, affixed it onto a vertical wooden beam. She adjusted the scope mounted on her rifle and squinted into it. With a flick of the finger, she activated the targeting light. Her finger hovered over the trigger as she guided the small blue pinpoint over the Imperial’s back then the back of his head. Her finger was ready to pull the trigger, when the woman the Imperial was seated next to, turned to face him.
She was a female Midlander, of fair complexion and dark reddish hair. Shael did not recognize her, but her face reminded her of another redhead she knew back in Eorzea. In that moment, her hand twitched involuntarily, shifting the target light onto her forehead. Shite. Shael shifted it back quickly. The last remnants of Grave’s drugs were still running through her system. Stop. Hesitating. She fixed the blue mote of light squarely on the back of the Garlean soldier’s head and fired.
She had taken such sniper shots before in the war. There was never a satisfaction to it, catching the enemy unawares and watching them slump forward lifeless in an instant. But it was something she was good at and she could not deny its efficiency and effectiveness. And when the job was done, she would at least feel some sense of completion that her preparation had paid off in the end.
This time, that twitch of her finger undid all her groundwork. At the last minute, the soldier reached for the woman, pulling her down and shielding her with his own body. Her first shot sailed right over the man. Shael hardly had time to think. The fact that he was using his body to protect the woman -- one who did not seem to be an Imperial -- nagged at the back of her mind, but her element of surprise was blown. With a foul grimace, she squinted into the scope again. The Garlean had ducked his head out of her line of sight, but his broad back would do. Enough holes would be almost as quick in bleeding him out anyroad. She fired two more shots into his upper back and another aimed for his flank.
She saw his body jerk twice as the impact of her shots pierced through his armor. She saw him draw his own weapon, a gun that hung from his hip, but he maintained his defensive stance over the woman. It would do him no good. She was not her target anyroad. All Shael had to do was to keep shooting him until he died.
But then a white shield suddenly grew around the Garlean and the woman, creating a dome of blinding light around them.
"Shite," Shael muttered under her breath. "What in soddin' hells..." She pulled back from the scope, one hand tapping at the frame of her goggles as she squinted. She tapped again as the scanners were recalibrating, but she already knew what the problem was. It was a lot of aether to get past to see what was within. And with the sudden appearance of a beacon in an otherwise poorly lit pier, she was starting to hear shouts from the watchtowers that the Sekiseigumi manned. Whatever and whoever had managed to coalesce all that aether was also raising the alarm. Her chance of succeeding in eliminating her kill target was fading into the wind.
She scowled a deep grimace. With practiced dexterity, she collapsed the stand and holstered the rifle onto her back. She took a few steps back and took a running leap, off the rafters and into the waters below.
