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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 1, 2014 19:40:03 GMT -5
December 27th, 2758
0934 Hours
Hell Base Live-Fire Range #3
The silence provided by the noise cancelling headphones was greatly appreciated by Berlioz as he breathed in the fresh morning air. The ranges were mostly empty, a few other were firing on range #1 but both #2 and #3 were virtually deserted, which was perfect for him. It'd been too long since he'd been able to do any training and there was a lot of lost time he had to make up for.
He sighed as he stared at the rifle and sidearm in front of him, both of them laying unloaded and safe on the flat section of the firing booth. The advantage of being on world was that the firing ranges were open air and used old school metal silhouettes, the latter providing a nice satisfying feedback to successful hits. The Sun was nice and low even this far into the morning, a very light breeze was rolling in from the west, it was a good day, almost ideal.
He picked up the rifle, trying to get used to the weight and feel again. Muscle memory would take care of operating the weapon, but just mentally getting his head around using it again was the more troubling part. Those niggling thoughts that were scratching around in the back of his head. He shouldered the rifle, slid a magazine in smoothly and in a single motion racked the chamber and flicked the safety off.
Breathe in... Breathe out...
Berlioz squeezed the trigger, the dulled report ringing out, but there was no answering 'Ding', only a puff of dust slightly to the right of the 150m target.
"Fuck"
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Post by Wei Zhour on Aug 2, 2014 22:28:18 GMT -5
Wei loved how quiet the headphones made the firing range. All the shots were muffled, as well one could barely hear anyone else talk, much less hear your own breathing. As he walked towards the booth he noticed how Lamond was once again as usual pissed off about something. That guy was too easily upset and would most likely have a brain aneurism and die. Everything seemed to upset the guy for one reason or another. Zhour didn’t mind the guy he did like him, but the guy took anything that happened to him to the extreme. He saw the shotgun and pistol at the table. Grabbing the shot gun he checked to see if it was loaded. There was no ammunition in the weapon and he then grabbed the small box of shotgun rounds and loaded the rifle.
Cocking it he then selected his three targets, at the farthest range. One of the targets was behind a wodden obstacle while the other two were at the same range, although on either side and not close enough for a double kill. Or at least that was the intent of the person who had designed the range. The sunlight from the morning was perfect for what he was going to be doing here. This was also the best time to come and get target practice as many who had free time on their hands did not spend it here. Well except for Lamond who was probably boiling by now upset about something and about to turn as red as a tomato…..or perhaps the planet of Mars. He then aimed carefully at the target to the left of the wooden obstacle. Firing one shot the pellets took the upper half of the body with multiple holes in the chest, and the face almost completely gone. He fired again at the target to the right of the wooden obstacle. The target had multiple hits in the center torso and the lower half. Zhour then took careful aim at the target behind the wooden obstacle, which only had the upper half of it out to target. Carefully he aimed , getting the perfect shot. Well maybe not perfect because with a shotgun it would spread but he wanted to be sure of it being hit. Firing at the third and final target the pellets hit some of the box as they would.
But the pellets also hit the upper half portion of the target, the body and upper chest having multiple holes, and one half of it broke off after a few seconds. Zhour smiled and then decided to try and get a few shots with the side arm. “Lamond.” He said as he noticed that Lamond was cursing at missing the target “If you can’t hit your target with that weapon, try another it’ll calm you down. Then after firing that weapon come back to your current one that your pissed off with. Trust me it’ll really help you with the range.”
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Post by Alex Huxley on Aug 4, 2014 18:16:50 GMT -5
He had been at the range all day. Mostly because he felt he needed to work on his marksmanship. His drill sergeant always told him that he was a rifleman first, medic second. Alex didn't totally believe that notion. For instance if he saw one of his battle buddies get hit he wasn't going to stay where he was and continue the fight. He was going to break position and make it to his battle buddy and start performing life saving measures. However right now he needed to pour some lead down range. He was frustrated by the recent events that occurred because of the demolition range. Not only that he was still stuck on post because his weekend pass was revoked, therefore sitting at his firing position was just another reminder that he could not leave post and have fun with the rest of the guys in his unit.
As he set the weapon down to load another magazine into the magazine well he faintly heard the echoes of more gunshots. He had not noticed other people entering the range so he sat back in his seat and looked down the long hall. Seated ten position away was Lamond and another cat named Zhour who he only met recently at the newcomer's briefing. Picking up his magazine he walked down the range hall towards his platoon mates and then sat down next to the two, "Hey, guys" he said as he tried to put on the best cheerful smile he could. he wanted to come off friendly but it was hard to act happy when you were in a shit mood with your pass revoked.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 4, 2014 21:24:19 GMT -5
Berlioz's frustration with himself flared somewhat when both Zhour and Huxley joined him, but it quickly dissipated as he realised that acting out was probably the last thing he should be doing while holding a live firearm. He switched the ear defender's internal radio on so he could actually hear what they were saying, he'd had it turned off as there was no one to talk to previously.
"Morning, what brings you two here so early?"
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Post by Wei Zhour on Aug 11, 2014 22:50:27 GMT -5
Zhour looked over at Lamond and said “Well no one is really here in the morning shooting at targets. I figured I would finally be able to shoot my shotgun that hasn’t been fired in like….a month or so?” he then set the rifle down on the table and made sure there were no rounds inside of the chamber. “It’s a real shame those S.S. goons get the better equipment then we do. Have either of you seen an S.S. base? It’s got state of the art stuff! These targets are ancient history, they fire at moving holographic targets with real rounds. I mean holy hell those places are fun! I’ve never been to one but I’ve heard the stories about what they have on those bases. You couldn’t pay me to be in the S.S. though, sure the armor is great but those pay checks are less then what we get.” He then turned around and said “Hey Huxley.” He said and then looked at Huxley, “What the hell happened with you, why did you get your pass taken away? I heard you beat a Colonel to a pulp at the demo range and put the guy in the hospital. Is that rumor true?
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 12, 2014 5:41:54 GMT -5
Berlioz frowned slightly, he was sure he'd heard Zhour talk about the SS before and he was now starting to wonder how many operations he'd done with the SS, figuring that he wouldn't be so interested in them after seeing how they worked. They were cruel, violent, unnecessary. Excessive force was almost a standard form of operation when they were involved.
Berlioz chose not to reply as Zhour almost immediately turned his attention to Huxley. However, hearing about Huxley apparently assaulting an officer was enough to get a response. "I'd like to imagine Huxley had good reason to physically assault an officer, can't see you being the type to make a regular habit of something like that."
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Post by Alex Huxley on Aug 17, 2014 9:50:44 GMT -5
Great. The word had gotten out and the word that was going around wasn't even close to accident. It was so misconstrued but what else could he expect from a military installation. One man could say a pink dog got lost and by the time the tenth person heard about it the dog would be red, it would have killed an entire platoon, and for some reason it glowed or some shit. PNN, Private News Network they called it and damn was it ever strong on Hades.
Alex removed his helmet, ear protection, and slid his hand through his high faded, blonde hair. Sweat misted off the top and dissipated into the air, "It wasn't a Colonel." He almost laughed at mentioning the rank. Hitting an officer? He would already have been placed against a wall and shot if that happened, "It was an NCO. Not even a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer, either. This Sergeant decided he would play a prank on one of his new soldiers. A hazing ritual I guess. It was more like attempted murder in my eyes. I was tasked with being the range medic for that day for the Demo Unit. All day they were setting off these massive explosions. Well finally it was time to start diffusing some. Of course they grab this brand new spanking private, I think her name was Lillian Parker." Alex knew her name, how could he forget the angel who had flirted with him despite her injuries. "Anyways, when she went to diffuse a device in the pit it detonated. She was lucky she wasn't killed. Worst that happened were a few broken ribs and a concussion. Well this asshole, he runs up to me as I'm getting her into the vehicle to take her to the medical station and has the audacity to scream at me and demand where I am taking her. So I told him whats what. Said he was a shit NCO who only cared about a laugh when he could have been giving a damn about his soldiers life. He looked scared and worried alright but not because his soldier almost died, it was because he knew he was in deep shit."
Alex became visibly angry at his story as he remembered the events as they happened. He removed a cigarette from his pouch and lit it up, inhaling the acrid smoke and expelling it through his nostrils.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Aug 18, 2014 13:01:00 GMT -5
It was blinding clear as to why Huxley would be pissed off in his current situation. It really wasn't so hard to picture, a lot of NCOs thought they were hot shit and frequently would pick on soldiers they felt weren't up to snuff, or if they simply didn't like them. That was Berlioz's experience in the Army at least, personally he'd only been though hazing once or twice before they usually got the message that it didn't faze him. He wasn't aware it was a thing that occurred in the SDC, or at least to a near lethal level.
"That seems far more plausible than attacking a ranking officer for no reason. I don't blame you, in that situation I'd struggle to hold my tongue. It was pretty common to see shit like that in the Army, maybe once or even twice every week we'd see the usual shit, people being treated like crap because the NCO took a disliking to them for whatever reason. Back then we just dealt with it, we were line infantry in the Army, no semblance of any real importance. Who gave a shit what happened to us? But in the SDC? That's not something I'd expect, and I'd like to think that troopers other than you thought of doing exactly the same you did."
He suddenly realised what Huxley had inadvertently done while he was talking, "However Huxley, I'd stick your defenders and helmet back on sharpish before the range officer sees you and you have another NCO on your ass."
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Post by Wei Zhour on Sept 1, 2014 10:58:14 GMT -5
Zhour then had an idea…perhaps not the best idea but a great one at that. And it would take both of their minds, his included over the conversation that both of them had. “You know, I have an idea. Huxley, Lamond listen to this proposistion. I propose a contest between the two of you, a shooting contest. The one who can hit the most targets within five minutes wins twenty five Statacan credits.” He told them. Wei knew that neither of them had expected him to come up with something this obvious. They were all at a shooting range and at a shooting range one used weapons.
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Post by Berlioz Lamond on Sept 1, 2014 11:23:01 GMT -5
Turning to look at Zhour, Berlioz raised an eyebrow. He'd always worked to achieve a minimum of a lethal or at least wounding hit per target every 1.5-2 seconds but pushing himself harder than that seemed, well irrelevant in a practical sense, time was needed to assess a target before engaging. Blindly firing at anything that moved was not only a waste of ammunition but also one of the leading causes of friendly fire.
But, in a controlled environment like a casual competition, it could be interesting to see what would happen. "Alright Zhour, I'll take you up on that offer." He turned to Huxley, "Are you going to join us?"
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