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The shuttle did a slow turnaround, wafting seaspray and the scent of ocean salt further inland. Its engine spat out a pulse followed by a roar as it flew away, and fading into a distant hum. The thin strip of beach was the threshold between the sea and the thickening trees. This exercise was far out of the norm. Training and assessments were done solely on Kamino, in the simulation arena. So to be transported offworld and dropped off here for this exercise was a first. How the assessors would be watching, probe droids. Hunter didn’t need his senses to figure that out, even if he sensed their presence scattered sparsely around the immediate area long before planting his feet into the sand. Additionally, a heavy storm was on its way here. For now the objective was simple, and this environment was in his favour.
The sea below gently butted against the bottom of the jagged cliffside behind him. The closely clustered needle-leaf trees offered shade from the sun. What was considered a nice day, was a hot day in armour. The shade was very much welcomed. He paid no mind to the ship departing behind him. The objective was simple, he moved immediately through the trees. There were no maps or scanners to rely on. How big was this island, no way to know for sure without exploration. But exploration was not the objective. He would have to tread carefully through this environment. Crosshair kept his head on a swivel, scanning this new environment.
There wasn’t a single artificial structure on this large island. If there were, Hunter would have known where they were. And if there were, they would most likely be offgrid. But so far, he had seen nothing but nature. He made his way further inland where coastal trees became sparse and the broad-leafed jungle trees took over. Grabbing his trusty vibro-knife from the sheath on his forearm, Hunter began slicing his way through the thick foliage. He was certain Crosshair would plant deflectors and seek out higher ground. So, he too would seek higher ground and meet the sniper there.
Crosshair spent a good chunk of the day trekking through the forest and sticking pucks to the trees. The best thing was, he had a kriff-ton of reflectors at his disposal. They had to be inconspicuous and where he needed them. Out of the sun preferably, they would glint too much. And having a vantage point from higher ground would be preferable for the sniper. But Hunter would have deduced that too, and then they would both be seeking higher elevation. And well, Crosshair is more than capable of sniping from anywhere. Crosshair continued scanning his surroundings, sticking reflector disks in strategic places. Some of them higher up in the trees, hidden within branches. Some within the shrubbery. He had a plan in place, and he had an idea where Hunter would go.
The jungle eventually subsided and met with a forest. And further along the way, Hunter wandered out into a clearing. There was an expansive stretch of open grassland, tall, wild, and untamed. A calm river cut through, following the length of the plain as far as it could be seen on either end, curving irregularly and sometimes running straight. On the other side of the plains was the treeline at the base of rocky elevations, cliffsides, and mountains in the background. That just might be the place to perch to get a view of everything. Hunter hesitated at the threshold beyond the trees. From this distance, he couldn’t tell if Crosshair was already up there somewhere or waiting to ambush him from the trees. Ready to sprint at a moment’s notice, he took a step out of the forest. Then another step when nothing happened. His perception hadn’t picked up on anything. So, he journeyed across the tall grasses towards the base of the rocky cliffs.
Crosshair had spotted a wide stretch of grassland beyond the edge of the forest, as well as a running river, cliffs, and the backdrop of mountains. Twilight was just starting to set in. There was only one sun, and he now had a grasp of which way was sunrise and sunset. Furthermore, the cliffside was where Hunter might be waiting, if he was there. Keeping concealed to the trees, Crosshair jogged to place various shiny disks on the tree trunks. Some he stuck at eye-level, some by the roots, and some he had tossed up high where the branches started. Then, he crouched in waiting, scope aimed at a disk. The view of the mountains was reflected several times before the sight of the scope. Various crepuscular creatures with chitin wings and exoskeletons crawled out to play, buzzing about. For that reason alone, Crosshair kept his helmet on.
It had been quite some time, dusk was just setting in. Hunter could now orient himself with which way the single sun traveled. Crouched in the shrubbery atop the cliffs, Crosshair was nowhere in sight. Aside from the distant fauna, he hadn’t heard footsteps. Semi-crouched, he made his way over to the edge of the cliffside. He perked up at the sound of a blaster going off. The blaster was by no means that loud, but Hunter was able to hear it. A bolt of light zipped through the shadows below, deflecting off of a few trees before heading right towards Hunter. He ducked low avoiding the bolt. After a pause of staying still, he dared to take another peek, gripping the edge of the cliffside. Another shot bounded from tree to tree and flew towards Hunter. The sergeant flung himself onto his rear before the blaster bolt could catch him. He now had an idea of where Crosshair was, and the direction of the sounds coming from the sniper rifle narrowed that radius. Crosshair would now be on the move, that was certain. Hunter sprang up from the ground, ducking away from another bold as he dashed away from the edge of the cliff. One thing was certain, those looked like live fire, and Crosshair didn’t seem to have a problem with that.
Crosshair knew Hunter was on his way here. He would need to cover his tracks. Hunter would’ve deduced where Crosshair was, not by exact location, but enough to find a trail. Nightfall was coming, and resting was not an option with Hunter tracking him down. If only the soil were floor tiles from the training arena. The cover of night might be the only advantage he would have. Once Hunter was on his trail, it would only be a matter of time.
In the forest, Hunter spotted a glimpse of a metallic disk stuck on a tree trunk. Who knows if either of them would be coming back here. Crosshair would be leaving those for later just in case. He could take the time to collect those, but catching Crosshair was his main priority. He ran through the trees, spotting more of those disks as he passed them. An ordinary civilian might not have spotted those, but the batch had an eye for detail. Mostly. Wrecker would have walked right into Crosshair’s traps. The light of day was dwindling by the hour, lowering visibility. Hunter considered sticking a pen-sized flashlight to his helmet. However, Crosshair would be able to see that from miles away. The sergeant kept onwards, soon finding boot prints in the dirt. Judging by the tracks, Crosshair was in a rush.
Crosshair didn’t like the fact that the odds didn’t seem in his favour. The major factor being Hunter himself. He didn’t need to be Tech to deduce that. The bugs that crawled out of wherever they came from began to glow. Some bulbous and drifting lazily in the breeze, some lithe and sleek darting past. To the sniper’s acute sight, the bugs zipped by at roughly three quarters their normal speed. Crosshair only knew this because Tech processed visual input in much the same way, and then rambled about the neurobiology behind it for a whole three hours during a hyperspace jump, which he had tuned out. The sniper found himself uttering his annoyances at his current predicament. He was never out on his own, there was always a squad who had his back. Facing Hunter one on one was a problem he alone had to solve.
Knelt down, Hunter brushed aside loose foliage. Night provided very little light to see, making it difficult to discern the tracks in the dirt. The glowing bugs throughout the forested area were of no help. The only things visible were the twinkling stars and insects. The trees were barely silhouettes in the dark. He could only hope there weren’t any nocturnal predators lurking in the dark. Hunter delicately traced his fingers along the print, going off of feel. It was certainly the treads of a boot, which meant he was right on track. But the blanket of night slowed him down drastically.
The sky was slowly lightening up, only marginally. A thick sheet of darkened clouds loomed overhead, and the winds were starting to pick up. Crosshair had survived the night without sleep or being caught by Hunter. Perhaps the cover of darkness helped him out. He could barely see anything all night, and that must have been the same for Hunter. Crosshair kept on moving, sticking reflector disks onto the trees, and he had a lot to spare. One sleepless night would not slow either of them down, clone force ninety-nine were acquainted with no rest at all for long stretches of time.
Hunter had sensed the brewing storm drawing nearer throughout the night. By supposed dawn, it was already at the island’s doorstep. And it was going to be a heavy one. The air was rife with metallic ozone. He could hear various critters scurrying through the jungle and forest. It was likely best to follow suit and find shelter before it happened. Hunter’s focus was no longer on tracking Crosshair, his current objective was staying out of the storm. He wondered how the probe droids would fare in the incoming weather. Perhaps they would tuck themselves away in various places like static cameras and weather the storm until it passes.
Crosshair noticed the faint pitter-patter coming from the sky. It plinked against his armour and the surrounding foliage. The sharpshooter lifted his gaze towards the sky. Judging by the cloud coverage, it was going to rain heavily. Great. Just great. He mentally sighed. Hunter wasn’t going to his only worry, but still the main one for sure. As Crosshair trekked onward, the rain came down heavier, until it quickly became a downpour, and then some more. It was like being stuck outside Tipoca City in the Kaminoan rain, winds included. Crosshair wiped the rain from his visor and shook the water from his glove. The entirety of his armour kept him dry, any droplets of water that found its way into the seams between plating simply rolled off his blacks. Crosshair looked around, finding nothing but trees all around.
Hunter could find no natural shelters around. There was no den in sight, only burrows far too small for a human being. It was apparent that there weren’t any large fauna around, or they were rare in these parts of the island. That might be one factor as to why this particular landmass was chosen for this exercise. Hunter had been in Kaminoan weather plenty of times, but there was usually refuge immediately nearby. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle before the thunder rolled through the clouds. He could countdown to when lightning would strike, and where they would strike. Hunter deliberately moved himself the furthest away he could from the nearest lightning strikes, each crack sent through the atmosphere would be deafening to his ears.
Crosshair had taken to the jungle and its dense foliage to weather the storm, and the opportunity to throw more pucks at the trees. The jungle provided a bit more protection than the forest. He was sure the lightning would put Hunter off the hunt temporarily. He lay prone beneath the vegetation on the jungle floor and the winds that whipped through the trees, keeping watch over his surroundings through his scope. With the disks placed in specific spots, Crosshair was able to keep nearly a three-sixty degree scan of his environment. A handful of mirrors to keep tabs on his six, another handful to look out for his three, and so on. The storm raged on for quite some time, but the sniper was patient.
Hunter starting cutting his way through the jungle foliage again, the dense treeline would provide more rain protection than the forest. This exercise had a time limit of ten rotations. The timeframe was generous, but Hunter would rather make this mission quick. The rain wouldn’t relent for quite some time. This would have been over in only a few minutes if it were in the training arena. But for whatever reason, the General overseeing clone production and the Kaminoans themselves decided to drop him and Crosshair here. And why just him and Crosshair, and not Tech and Wrecker as well? And what exactly was the purpose of this particular exercise? Hunter mentally braced himself just before the next lightning strike, the strike itself lit up the sky like daytime momentarily, and he caught a glimpse of one of Crosshair’s reflectors at eye level on a jungle tree. The instant his eyes landed on it, a glint of light other than white lightning flashed in the reflective mirror. Instinct compelled him to dodge the blaster bolt, with it just barely grazing his shoulder. Crosshair was around. The sound of the sniper rifle firing lagged behind, coming from Hunter’s forward direction. He didn’t get much of a chance to stand straight again, having to dodge another blaster bullet, it was followed by a few more dancing in between the trees. He ducked, rolled, and dove out of the path of each bolt. The sniper had set up a defensive perimeter, one that Hunter figured he could slip through. The sergeant tensed, feeling the hairs of his arms stand on end from the prickle of electric charges in the atmosphere. The lightning strike landed much too close to comfort somewhere in the jungle. Despite trying to cover his ears over his helmet, the monstrous boom rang his ears. He barely registered more blaster bolts dancing about the trees around him, driven by soldier’s reflexes, he managed to dodge and flee the sniper’s perimeter unscathed.
Crosshair had relocated elsewhere in the jungle soon after watching Hunter flee from the various mirrors he placed. The rain hadn’t stopped, and he was cold and miserable. It had rained an entire half a rotation, and was still raining. Night had settled. The heavy rain kept the bugs hidden in their nests, and the stars hidden. Lighting cut through the pitched blackness occasionally, that wasn’t enough to help much. The sharpshooter had hunkered down again on the jungle floor beneath different shrubbery. Due to the lightning storm, he dared not to rest against any of the trees. Not that it would stop lightning from traveling through the ground if the trees in his immediate area were to be struck, nor would it stop wooden shrapnel. Despite all that, Crosshair was trying to weave together leafy stems and other vegetation he plucked from the ground.
Hunkered down, Hunter grumbled in the heavy morning rain. It was morning since it was no longer pitched black. The night had forced Hunter to a complete stop. The rain would stop by the end of the rotation but he didn’t want to wait that long just to refuel. At least the lightning had passed, no longer sending tingles through his nerves. The howling winds had lessened as well. He dropped his supply back onto the ground. His bucket, he placed down with more care. His hair was quickly matted down and his bandana became waterlogged in the short time it was exposed to the elements. He grabbed a ration bar from his supply pack and chowed down before it too could become soaked. Then he washed it down with the water canteen he fished from his pack. He took only a quick swig before shoving it back into the backpack, re-equipped his gear and moved on.
Crosshair had woven together a cloak composed of leaves. It was propped up on a frame of branches locked together with vines. The makeshift roof over his head withstood the test of heavy rain. He had also constructed a similar cloak that wrapped his rifle. Crosshair ate chunks of his ration bar in between gulps of water from his canteen. After the last bite of the ration bar was gone, Crosshair repacked his canteen and latched the supply pack onto his back. Placing his helmet back on, he removed the leafy cloak from its rack and threw it over his head. It fitted much like a hooded poncho. Once he was ready to move, he dismantled the frame of tree branches before moving. Hunter could easily track him down from here, he needed to misdirect Hunter’s trail.
Hunter had last encountered Crosshair indirectly in the jungle. He figured going back there was where he could pick up a trail. The sniper had packed up and moved, he could guarantee that. The tracks would also be fresh in the rain. And so, he made his way back to Crosshair’s former perimeter with haste. When he got there, he knew he had returned to Crosshair’s abandoned territory. The metallic disks were still there. Hunter pried one off the aged tree trunk with his vibro-blade. He turned the disk over in the palm of his hand, these things had a hefty weight to them despite their compact size, and they were probably everywhere by now. Which meant Crosshair had quite a lot of these, a lot more than what he usually carried into missions. He followed the trail of disks further onwards until he came across scattered broken branches. Anyone else would have mistook the scene as debris tossed up by the storm, but Hunter was keen. He crouched to get a closer look at the scuffs in the wet soil, pushing aside scattered leaves and nearby bushes. His brother had taken refuge here under a makeshift shelter.
Crosshair sprinted through the grassland and towards the river. The running water was overflowing from the edges of the riverbank from the current downpour. Water might wash away any tracks, he hoped. Crosshair ran right into waist-deep water and waded further in, his cloak of leaves making him look like windblown debris adrift in the current. The current wasn’t an impossible fight, but Crosshair was tired from two sleepless nights. He hauled himself onto the riverbend on the other side of the flooded river, purposefully planting scuffmarks into the softened soil at the edges of the river. The question was, would Hunter anticipate this misdirection or head across the river? Crosshair pushed himself away from the riverbank, going with the flow of the river current. That took far less energy than trying to fight the current upstream.
Hunter followed Crosshair’s trail out into the grassland. Hunter stopped for a moment to analyse where else the tracks could have turned. He got down low to the ground again. It was very faint, hardly noticeable, but the grass had bent under weight. Not from the rain, from something heavier. And as far as Hunter deduced, it wasn’t a large animal, there weren’t any on this land mass. The clone kept his gaze glued to the grass as he ran over the trail left by the sniper, and to the river. He turned around, staring at the line of trees for a moment. Did Crosshair make his way to the mountains or head back into the trees? Considering the weather conditions, it would be harder to scale the rocky ledges that lead to the cliff’s topside. But he had a plan.
Crosshair was in neck-deep water, leaning against the river current. He manually lowered his helmet’s rangefinder behind the scope of his rifle. The sergeant was in his sight. The sniper’s forefinger slowly squeezed the trigger, keeping his scope trained on Hunter. When Hunter turned back to the river, Crosshair decided to commit to the shot. He fired. But Hunter’s danger sense appeared much more keen, Hunter had dove out of the blaster’s aim and into the river. There was no doubt Hunter knew exactly where Crosshair was now. What concerned him slightly was the fact that Hunter didn’t reappear from the river. Crosshair treaded backwards with the water current, Hunter would be heading right towards him for all he knew. Crosshair peered through his scope again, to find Hunter popping back up on the other side of the river. Hunter was staring right at him. Crosshair dug his heel into the riverbed, staring down Hunter. He fired another shot, and Hunter ducked back into the river.
Hunter poked his head above the water’s surface to a very tiny silhouette climb out of the river and towards the jungle. Good. Hunter climbed out of the river opposite of the forest and jungle, his plan was still intact. Wiping his hand over his visor to rid his vision of the droplets of rain and river water, Hunter booked it towards the rocky slopes at the foot of the mountains. Crosshair was no longer shooting at him, but Hunter couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder. He had lost sight of the sharpshooter. Waiting until the rain stopped was not an option, he charged right at the climbing challenge ahead of him.
Crosshair figured he had a better chance of catching Hunter in the jungle or the forest where he could shoot the sergeant with unpredictable bolt angles rather than out in the open, but Hunter had fled towards the mountains. Either way, Crosshair could effortlessly ricochet shots right over the river and towards the mountains. The disks he left in the forest were still there, giving him a view of the mountains from various angles if he chose to focus there. The jungle leaves from the jungle floor matched the shrubbery in the forest. The forest and the jungle shared the same land mass, it was bound to happen naturally. Crosshair’s camo still worked here.
The slick rocky edges had tested Hunter’s grip strength. There were a few short slips here and there, but Hunter powered through. And now he was atop the cliffs taking a breather on his hands and knees with nightfall above him. The rain had almost subsided completely. He couldn’t waste time resting in this spot, but he could within the hardier forest that sat at the foot of the mountains. Hunter heaved himself up and ran towards the more northern trees. In their shadows, he finally allowed himself to rest. The glowing bugs returned to light the island in flashy displays. He sank to the ground, resting his back on the first immediate tree he walked up to. There were no beasts to worry about but he could never be too safe, Hunter rested his main firearm in his lap.
Crosshair had found the perfect curve of a tree root to rest on, almost laying down. His knee supported part of his rifle while he stared through the scope. This night was far better than the ones prior. The moon shone brightly, bathing the valley in a calming cool tone. But kriff he was tired. Maintaining wakefulness was difficult in these conditions, barely moving at all, sitting and waiting. There was a solution to this: caf pills. Crosshair absentmindedly rummaged through his supply pack next to him. He only found more reflector disks, his one canteen, rations, and a small packet of toothpicks. No solution, that made him grumble. The night stretched on in silence. The chorus of croaks, chirps and other critters gave a symphony. When morning came, Crosshair jolted awake, quickly snapping his rifle back into position. He had lost track of when he had dozed off. The sun was already peaking over the horizon. The first thing he saw through his scope was Hunter peering over the cliff ledge. Really Hunter? This again?
Hunter could see the sea of forest from up here. Behind the forest was a hint of the jungle trees. Just as expected, Crosshair fired a bolt that bounded from tree to tree before flying upwards at the cliff ledge. Hunter dove to the side and quickly recovered, standing up right once more. Producing one of Crosshair’s stolen disks in his hand, he tossed and caught repeatedly in his palm, anticipating the next shot. The next shot came, and Hunter hurled the puck at the bolt. The bolt deflected off the puck and flew up into the sky. Well, sending the bolt back to Crosshair was a one in a billion chance, but worth a try at the moment. Hunter retreated back to the trees away from the cliffside.
Crosshair picked up his supply pack and abandoned his resting spot. It would be foolish of a sniper to stay in one spot the entire time, especially being hunted while hunting. He headed further away from the valley. He planted a few more disks to the trees as he went, giving himself more angles to look around the trees. He had a plan to flush out Hunter from the trees, or have a blaster bolt find its mark. Whichever happened first. He had expended all his pucks save for a handful. This would make his record for the longest ricochet chain he has yet to execute. He delayed going right through the valley to perch at the foot of the mountains.
Hunter stayed hidden among the bushes and trees, out of sight. Crosshair was on the move, all he needed to do was wait. How long it would take Crosshair to come up here was yet to be determined. He counted the mental tallies of each rotation that had passed. Three days so far, and this was the fourth. A little less than half the time limit was up. If it hadn’t been for the storm, he could have caught Crosshair much sooner. As much as this place had nice views, he would still rather camp out in the Marauder in the void of space, the one place he knew. Hunter kept patient as the time passed, slinking in the cover of the flora. By late morning, he estimated, he spotted a mound of leaves at the edge of the cliffs overlooking the valley and forest. Crosshair was laying prone, scope pointed towards the forest. It wasn’t a convincing disguise viewed from behind. But if Hunter were down in the valley, he might have glossed over the sniper and the scope that would have been trained on him. It was rare someone could sneak up on or around Hunter, but somehow, Crosshair had.
Crosshair made adjustments to his scope and swung down the rangefinder that was affixed to his bucket. There were a handful of disks he could see, and start from at the edge of the forest. He chose them in random order and fired at each starting puck consecutively, watching the bolts disappear into the trees. He didn’t need to see it happen to know each bolt traveled through the forest, and through the jungle in the longest chain of rebounds. Crosshair kept shooting his chosen starter pucks at a randomly chosen order each time, continuing to fuel the flurry of blaster bolts into the trees for some time. Hunter would have one hell of a time dancing through that. Surely at least one bolt would have found its mark. Then, he let off the rifle’s trigger and waited. However, no confirmation of a completed mission came through. Either Hunter had danced through all of that, or he wasn’t even in the dense trees. Just as he was about to get up and leave, a boot stomped down on the supply pack he carried on his back. Not heavy enough to flatten him onto the ground, but enough to announce Hunter’s presence with emphasis. Crosshair turned his gaze over his shoulder and down the barrel of the DC-17 blaster in Hunter’s hand. The moment held itself in place for lingering seconds while Crosshair considered his options for countering. But he knew just as well as Hunter that this encounter had already ended. With a sigh, Crosshair lowered his rifle down on its side. A monotone message crackled through both of their helmet’s internal comms.
"Exercise completed."