âShot on target. Right shoulder, non-fatal impact.â
FLISS chimed out in the rather empty firing range. James had to admit that the technology aboard the Mother was like nothing he had ever seen. For the majority of his life counting the hits on a firing range target had consisted of waiting for the bloody thing to travel up the range to you so you could inspect it. Apparently here, the name of the game was convenience.
Looking down his riflesâ sights, the new Agent took a breath, held it in and squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times, exhaling slowly as the last shot flew down the range.
âTwo shots on target. Left lung punctured, Left collarbone shattered, 94% chance of fatality. One miss. Would you like me to suggest an adjustment, Agent Oklahoma?â
It appeared that convenience was slightly annoying as well. Sighing heavily James slid the clip from his weapon and placed it down, pursing his lips slightly at the notion that a adjustment was needed. Maybe he meant to miss. Maybe in his head there was another guy behind the fake, glimmering target situated some number of yards down the line. That was obviously why he had missed.
âNo thank you FLISS, but thank you for the offer anyway. Youâre a star as always.â
Her steps dragged her along the hallway, the sound of heavy boots meeting the solid metal beneath them echoing through her surroundings. The tip of her knives was balanced upon a finger despite her movement, her helmetâs visor providing a map of the ship she found herself stationed on. The outlay of it still seemed to confuse her sense of direction, but an effort was made to change that bothersome factor.Â
The walk she had found herself taking eventually found itself interrupted by the familiar sound of shots nearby, eyes darting to the descriptions of the rooms surrounding her. The shooting range, as she had suspected, was merely a few metres away and seemed occupied at the time. Curiosity was quick to bubble up within her, knife tilting to the side just to be caught by its handle and returned to its place upon thigh.
She peeked around the corner once her destination had been reached, eyes narrowing lightly as they remained fixed upon the agent making use of the room. Some words were vaguely picked up, only furthering the urge to step inside and offer company-- which she took little time caving to.
âMan, I figured the shooting range would be a bit different, but this things is really damn neat!â Stepping inside, she let her gaze wander, slowly making her way over to the other until she stood next to him. Hands clasped behind her back as she leaned forward in a jumpy bow, smile hidden behind a visor. âFancy some company?â
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