| Soft Targets |
| Summary: | The CAG and Marine CO hit the range. Relative marksmanship is…about what you'd expect. Cameo by Kai. |
| Date: | 02 May 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | None |
| Players: |
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| Shooting Range - Deck 12 - Battlestar Cerberus |
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| This nearly soundproof room has ten shooting booths in a straight line that face the target field. The ranges move out to thirty yards, each booth using its own track to take targets out to the desired distance vial a simple dial at the booth. Behind the firing line is a long bench that runs the width of the room where crewmembers can load magazines and compare targets. At one end is a huge stack of paper targets that has either Cylons or a few different types of human targets on them. A large sign hangs from the ceiling that details out the rules such as wearing eye and ear protection and watching where weapons are pointed at all times. |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #64 |
BANG! BANG! The sounds of small arms fire immediately sound through the hatchway of the firing range when it's opened. Only one booth is occupied at the moment, unsurprisingly by a marine. What might be surprising is that said marine is the CO of the whole marine shebang aboard. It isn't too often Madilyn gets a chance to get down here save for the required time to keep up a minimum proficiency. This session, however, is completely off the clock. In one of the far aisles, she stands with a rather open stance, her Picon Five-seveN personal sidearm clutched tightly in her outstretched arms. Each shot sends a ripple through them, and she bends them back with the recoil. Ear and eye protection make it difficult for her to notice any new arrivals…at least, not until she has to turn and reload some of those rubber range rounds.
Cidra makes her way onto the range in time to hear the latest round of banging. Though she's not close enough to it yet for her eardrums to be assaulted outright. The CAG is apparently making some time for the range, too. An even rarer sight. She gets some training ammo for her pistol and heads to the lanes. Protective gear on. Goggles and earphones. Safety first. She ends up in the lane just beside Madilyn's, though it's not until she's loading that she notices the Marine. Faint recognition, and an inclination of her head is offered to the woman as she loads. Though that's the extent of her greeting. Wouldn't want to interrupt the banging.
There's not much more banging to come from Madilyn's lane - her gun is just about empty. Cidra gets to loading, and so does Madilyn, after her pistol clicks empty. The slide is pulled back, and the gun is safetied before she even turns from her lane. When she does, that's when she spots Cidra and her nod. "Evening," she says in greeting, loudly enough that, in the absence of gunfire but in the presence of ear protection, it should be heard. "Rare to see you down here! What's the occasion?"
"Evening," Cidra calls in return, also raising her voice to be heard above the muffling of the protective headphones. She takes a moment to actually answer the question. Concentrating on her loading. She knows how to handle the pistol, but the movements aren't as second-nature to her as they clearly are to the Marine. "That is the crux of it, no? I neglect too much my firearms practice. In light of everything…" The Cylon boarding, probably, though that's left unsaid. "…I should make sure I can hit something without a missile rack."
"Sounds like as good a reason as any. Though…" Madilyn begins, pausing only to take a pre-loaded magazine from one bin, tossing her empty into another bin, turning the gun on an angle, sliding the magazine in, knocking it in with the heel of her hand, and pulling back on the slide to chamber a round. The safety remains on, of course. "…arguably, if we get better at our jobs, you shouldn't need to get better at firing that thing." Even so, there's only so much a limited number of MPs on routine patrol and normal duty stations can do. That's since been increased, but even that can't last forever. Too few people and too much ship.
Kai arrives from the Deck 12.
Kai has arrived.
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Failure.
"We're all soldiers, Major," Cidra says. "Behind the lines does not so much exist anymore. One could say if me and mine were better at our jobs no toaster would ever get aboard. I shall not promise such certainties, however." She and Madilyn are down in the firing lanes. Cidra's just loading up her pistol, for her part. She aims. Taking her time about it. Eyes narrowing at the target. And, then, a round is popped off. It misses quite entirely.
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Success.
Even if she enters unawares of the participants in today's shootoff, it doesn't mean that Kai remains as ignorant seconds later. Frozen at the brink, a bag in one hand, another in her other, she actually takes a step back, the small of her rump hitting the door softly, eyes slashing to the targets rather than the people within.
Her own pistol now reloaded, Madilyn steps up to the lane. She resumes her firing position and slides the safety to the unsafe position, and squeezes off one round. Looks like the rust isn't too bad, yet; her shot hits the target cleanly. She's quite used to this particular sidearm, having had it a while now; she knows to aim a little left of where she wants the bellet to go.
Cidra crooks the barest hint of a rueful smirk, turning to watch Madilyn's shooting rather than popping off another round right away. "I am better when it comes to missile targeting. I do promise." Head tilted, trying to pick up what she can of the woman's technique. Vision averted from straight ahead like that, she spots Kai on her periphery. A polite nod is offered to the private.
A nod is given right back to Cidra, though Kai doesn't step into the room until a few minutes later. Carefully - really, -really- carefully her bag is set aside, and before she moves any further? A question. "Do I interrupt? Sirs?" Polite, and respectful. And honest.
The firing stops when Cidra turns to speak with her. "Well, I suppose that's a good thing Major…part of your job description, I do believe?" Madilyn manages to crack a little smirk, before Kai's words catch her ear. "Open range Private. Grab a range weapon, or your personal sidearm if you have it, and get to it. If I shoot on Tuesday the way I am now, you all are in big trouble."
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Success.
"It is at that. And this is part of yours. So I suppose it would be faint praise to note your are most good at it," Cidra says. She tries to copy Madilyn's posture some as she takes aim again. Whatever she did is mildly more successful, in that she actually hits her paper target this time. A short nod. That's somewhat better, at least. An absent shake of her head to Kai. Free range indeed. "Ah, yes. The…competition?" She seems unsure if that is the best way to put what Madilyn is talking of.
"Why does Tuesday have anything to do with anything? You shoot as you shoot. If you are so widely challenged" from good to bad to ugly and back again, "Your chances are bag ill be as good as any other." Whatever this 'Tuesday' holds. Kai? Castes one last glance at her bag before stepping up. Taking the bag, leaving the room.
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Success.
"Ah…yes. The competition. A little informal thing to keep my marines in tip-top firing shape. If you offer them cigarettes, they always seem to shoot better though. I see that word spreads like wildfire huh? I'm only offering the rewards for marines that outshoot me. Not pilots." She pauses, and grins. "Missiles and Viper KEWs don't count either, Major. As much as your pilots would like them to." Wry joking aside, she turns to Kai…just in time to see her leave out. "Odd one, that. Lot of potential though. I've got to sit down and have a chat with her in private sooner rather than later," Madilyn says, before setting her jaw and firing again. This shot hits the target as well.
Cidra chuckles low. "Any pilot who shows up shall be rewarded by the education alone, I think," she says wryly. "Though anytime you want to try out-shooting me in a Raptor, I shall bet anything you please. A Viper…I shall leave that to my pilots." Her eyes follow Kai out at well. Quizzically. "She is an unusual one. Good with demolitions, though. She was on a demo team on the mission I led not along ago and acquitted herself passing well."
"Well, say what you will about the marines, but we aren't so stupid as to try and outshoot a Viper jock in a Viper. Friendly competition aside, I have no clue how some of those pilots pull off the feats they do. I'm just a simple ground-pounder, but I certainly appreciate their unique skill set. As for Raptor? Well, I hear that they once trained a monkey to lock missiles and hit the big green button." Hearing Cidra's words about Kai, Madilyn nods sagely. "Aye, I can remember reading that report. Like I said…unusual, but there's a lot of talent there, I think. Secrets too. Those are the things that concern me."
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Failure.
"A Viper can fly most beautiful, I deny it not," Cidra says, tone taking on a wistful note. She blinks. Concentration back on the target. A shot is fired off but, like her first, it misses the target wide. She clears her throat. A snort at Madilyn's comment about Raptors, but she takes it as inter-service ribbing. "Me, I have flown the big buses most of my career. I have never had a monkey in my backseat. Though some of my ECOs could have done better with personal hygiene. Secrets?" She shrugs but doesn't press. Except to ask. "Was recruited from among the civilians, yes?"
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Good Success.
The hygeine statement gets a nice chortle from Madilyn. "So, you fly with Trask, is it?" One side of the marine's mouth is pulled back in a little smirk, and she winks at the CAG. She then promptly turns back to the target and seems to ever-so-casually put a bullet hole right in the target's head. Then the gun gets lowered to answer the rest of her questions. "She was, yes. But she had employment as a mercenary of sorts prior. Bodyguard, mercenary, soldier-of-fortune…something like that. The details elude me right now. Which is why I say there are secrets…things she's seen or done or been part of that perhaps she's not so eager to reveal."
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Success.
"She does seem skilled, at the very least," Cidra says. The comment about Trask gets a low chortle. "He is my Captain Quinn's ECO regularly, but I have flown with him on occasion. It is his mouth I would like to wash most frequently. But, trying as he is, he knows his business on an ECM board. I can put up with the cheek for that. Among pilots, you learn to tolerate…idiosyncrasies." Bang! She hits this time.
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Success.
Madilyn just nods. "Isn't that the case in all departments? One of my marines makes a habit of labelling everything with sticky notes to remind herself of, well, everything. I dread to look in her bunk…I suspect it's wallpapered in sticky notes!" And so goes the sharing of DH secrets…or something like that. "All in all, a good bunch though. I just hope my MPs did their job right, given recent events…" she says, trailing off on purpose as she raises her pistol back up the few inches it dipped while talking, takes aim, and hits the target again.
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Good Success.
Recent events? Cidra doesn't ask. There are certain things, even at the department head level, that aren't her business. "They are good people, all of them. I only pray I do right by them." Pew! That'd be an actual headshot. Were the paper target a human being. The barest hint of a smile comes to her lips. "I can see how one can enjoy this. It is…relaxing. In its way."
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Good Success.
"Cathartic, even. You know, if you ever wanted to join the CMC, there's open enlistments right now. I'm afraid you'll have to start back down at Private, though, if you do…" Madilyn's letting a grin play on her lips now. Ah, nothing like the good old-fashioned interdepartmental ribbing. Nanny nanny boo-boo, I'm better than you, and all that. "Marines get to do this all the time…" she starts but doesn't finished, as she fires again and scores another headshot.
<FS3> Cidra rolls Firearms: Failure.
"Sounds decidedly less stressful, actuallly," Cidra chuckles. "But I think I shall pass. I do know what you mean about cathartic, though. I feel something similar when I launch out in my Raptor. Even as heavy as things are now. You are in the cockpit and you are…right with yourself. In a way you are not at other times." Fire. Miss. That ain't right, either. She smirks. "Such it is for me, at least. And I had best stick to it."
<FS3> Madilyn rolls Firearms: Good Success.
"You know, a bus driver once contributed to a compound fracture of my right leg." Conveniently, she leaves out the part about where she was still green and stupid; that's something she can go without having the marines know. To them, she was born with a rifle in hand and fleet academy already completed, or at least, she's not going to correct them for thinking so. "Needless to say, I'm less than fond of them. I understand the need to have them and to use them, of course." One more bullet. One more headshot. "Damn, I certainly hope I can shoot this well against my marines, or else that challenge I've laid down is going to be quite embarassing!"
Cidra smiles ever so slightly. "You are not the only one. There are even many Viper pilots who do not care to fly Raptor taxi. For my part, I think they are discomfitted with the loss of control. It is amazing how touchy some pilots get about flying when they are not behind the stick. As for your leg…I think that is a story I would not mind hearing sometime." Some other time. She spent her last round on her last shot, as she checks her chamber again. "I wish you good hunting, Major."
"Hunting is subjective…seeing as how marines hunt in a cage, for the most part." MP duty is hardly a life of storming the castle, running recon, and blowing the frak out of basestars. "But I thank you nonetheless, Major." Madilyn nods once to her, and holds out shooting anymore rounds until the CAG has gotten her safety gear settled away and safely made for the door.