- Joined
- Mar 8, 2014
- Messages
- 274
- Reaction score
- 19
Prospero was on the move once again after retrieving his equipment and making a careful retreat across the rooftops back towards the retreat. Just barely outside its boundaries, he posted up on a higher point than usual. This gave him a wide view of the main drag in which the AT-ATs and the troopers were using to advance, plus a good bit of the alleyways. He took a short minute to re-pack his magazines in a more efficient way and dropped the empty mags away from his dump pouch. No need for them. Placing the bipod on the lip, Prospero would set up at this chest high wall...before suddenly being forced to look at the sky.
Prospero was on his back, his helmet smoldering on its right side. He'd taken a round. Something definitely fast and hard from a blaster. Probably a counter-sniper. The Imps were getting smarter. Had the shot location been more direct, or to his chest, he might not have survived. Staying low and behind cover, playing dead for a moment, he scratched away the matte paint of one of the pitched magazines, revealing a chrome and metallic base underneath. That'd have to do for a mirror. Holding it up slightly, and with an angle following the path of the blaster's bolt as indicated by the helmet, he eventually was able to locate the shooter. He was now lining up for shots on fellow rebel troops, now that the rebel sniper was "taken care of". Tossing his helmet away, its effectiveness probably much less now that it was so damaged, he quickly sighted in at the approximate range, halving the usual procedure. There wasn't enough time to turn the dial perfectly. Aiming slightly up with the mil-dot scope, he calculated the trajectory as best he could for the distance drop and squeezed the trigger. As the sniper began to notice his target getting back up from his apparent head-wound, the round punched through the left side of his chest, spraying blood against the building sprawling up behind him. He fell over the lip of the building, down into the street.
Re-chambering a round, Tyler Prospero quickly turned his attention to his comms, trying to keep up with everything. There were lots of people that needed help. He tapped his comms. "Save any life you can, that's our objective." How robotic. Somebody needed to raise morale. Turning the comm to a public and unblocked channel, he did his best to broadcast for anybody to here, Imperials included. "Just wanted to go on record with this, since, you know. See, you're all doing well, and you should feel good about yourselves. See, look at all these little imperial tin soldiers walking about..." He said, doing his best to locate the one who called for help...the one who came from the drop-pod. Keep talking, keep them distracted a bit. Raise the morale, he thought as he acquired his ally in his sights, zooming away slightly to observe the area, then deciding upon his target. "Look around, hm? We oughta be flattered. See, them being here, means they're not somewhere else. All these resources wasted on a museum, a few pathetic rebels? We're doing good. Keep at it folks." Surprising eloquence, coming from a man utterly scared of social interactions outside of combat. Dialing in the range, the Imperial-aligned enemy that would call herself Jade seemed to be walking rather slow toward his comrade. Slow walks without any change of direction. This was his best bet to save a life before the rest of the forces converged on the demoman's already compromised position. Placing the crosshair at her center of mass, with the correctly dialed range, Prospero fired off a single 7.62mm slug out of the suppressed rifle, aimed to incapacitate or kill...but more so, to save a comrade's life...even just buy him some time.
Prospero was on his back, his helmet smoldering on its right side. He'd taken a round. Something definitely fast and hard from a blaster. Probably a counter-sniper. The Imps were getting smarter. Had the shot location been more direct, or to his chest, he might not have survived. Staying low and behind cover, playing dead for a moment, he scratched away the matte paint of one of the pitched magazines, revealing a chrome and metallic base underneath. That'd have to do for a mirror. Holding it up slightly, and with an angle following the path of the blaster's bolt as indicated by the helmet, he eventually was able to locate the shooter. He was now lining up for shots on fellow rebel troops, now that the rebel sniper was "taken care of". Tossing his helmet away, its effectiveness probably much less now that it was so damaged, he quickly sighted in at the approximate range, halving the usual procedure. There wasn't enough time to turn the dial perfectly. Aiming slightly up with the mil-dot scope, he calculated the trajectory as best he could for the distance drop and squeezed the trigger. As the sniper began to notice his target getting back up from his apparent head-wound, the round punched through the left side of his chest, spraying blood against the building sprawling up behind him. He fell over the lip of the building, down into the street.
Re-chambering a round, Tyler Prospero quickly turned his attention to his comms, trying to keep up with everything. There were lots of people that needed help. He tapped his comms. "Save any life you can, that's our objective." How robotic. Somebody needed to raise morale. Turning the comm to a public and unblocked channel, he did his best to broadcast for anybody to here, Imperials included. "Just wanted to go on record with this, since, you know. See, you're all doing well, and you should feel good about yourselves. See, look at all these little imperial tin soldiers walking about..." He said, doing his best to locate the one who called for help...the one who came from the drop-pod. Keep talking, keep them distracted a bit. Raise the morale, he thought as he acquired his ally in his sights, zooming away slightly to observe the area, then deciding upon his target. "Look around, hm? We oughta be flattered. See, them being here, means they're not somewhere else. All these resources wasted on a museum, a few pathetic rebels? We're doing good. Keep at it folks." Surprising eloquence, coming from a man utterly scared of social interactions outside of combat. Dialing in the range, the Imperial-aligned enemy that would call herself Jade seemed to be walking rather slow toward his comrade. Slow walks without any change of direction. This was his best bet to save a life before the rest of the forces converged on the demoman's already compromised position. Placing the crosshair at her center of mass, with the correctly dialed range, Prospero fired off a single 7.62mm slug out of the suppressed rifle, aimed to incapacitate or kill...but more so, to save a comrade's life...even just buy him some time.