Star Fox: Generations, (Moved from SODAS)

((For something like this, yes, call 'em. I call primarily when there's only a few, live targets, or when target is "main" character.For purposes of moving along, I'll call this shot....))

Of course, the shot lands exactly where you want it. The rock sparks a bit (might be a bit reactive to your blaster, but harmless enough) and is left with a black spot dead center.

Marcus whistles. "Wow...uh, how many do you want us to shoot, sir?"

"You see that black spot? Hit it," said Snow, "Each time you miss, you do 5 push-ups. So you better hit it quick if you want to keep your arms intact."

Marcus nodded nervously, and knelt down...

Easy...easy....

the finger twitched.

Less than an inch away.

"Damn." he swore, under his breath, and got down on the ground.

Maxrine was a bit more nervous, and what was worse, the rifle she'd been given was CLEARLY too big for her. She awkwardly shouldered the weapon and fired...about as well as one could with something that didn't fit well. Her shot landed just wide of the rock entirely.

Snow took aim himself and came short of it, missing barely a quarter of an inch off center. He even got down and did pushups for that one himself.
"This is how I got more physically fit and a better shot," he said, though he didn't even look like his pushups made him exert any effort.
"McCloud, you're decent for being a cockpit jockey..." he growled, but looked at Marxine. "I'm going to have to try and do something for you considering you couldn't hit the broadside of a battlecruiser with that thing."

Maxrine nodded, and decided to do push-ups, anyway. "To...be...fair..." she said between push-ups. "I....Did...Miss...*sigh*" she leaned back, a little tired. Even with her relatively light frame, she had some trouble. "I would saw the stock a little shorter, except it's not mine."
"Don't worry about it," Walthers said, walking down the hill. "Protocol requires that men and women are adequately accommodated, given that they can still fight. We can shorten that stock if need be." She led the falconess away.

Marcus sent Snow a quizzical look after they left. "I'm better with a pistol than a rifle. You knelt down and took that shot right off - it took me forever to get it aimed. I'll try it again, faster this time..."

He quickly knelt down, and, as quickly as he could, trained himself on the target set for him...

Predictably, wider than the first shot, glancing off the edge of the stone.

Marcus got down on his hands and knees and pushed off the ground five times. He wasn't beaten yet - in fact, pilots were known to train for endurance rather than sheer strength - but was quickly getting frustrated. Primarily because he knew Snow was right.

and, in the back of his mind, his father's reputation for being able to use anything.

Snow took up the rifle and shot again, hitting dead center for the second time. Two more shots hit before he missed again.
"If you're pulling off to the right, you might be pulling the rifle when you shoot," he said as he finished his push-ups. He mimicked pulling the trigger in air, "Try to keep a straight wrist, but don't press too hard or you'll screw up your shot in other ways," he said.
"Firearms are unique things. It's the right combination of finesse and strength," he said, "And just a couple of other tips for you. Relax: squeeze the trigger, don't pull it. Exhale as you fire. Oh, and make sure to zero your scope."

Marcus nodded, took a moment to calm himself. He had noticed a pull to the right.

Keeping this in mind, he knelt down, brought the rifle up to his shoulder, treating it a bit more gingerly, like he would a fighter. Zero scope, exhale...

"WHAP!"

The weapon discharged. Marcus lowered sights to find that he'd darkened the target spot further. Pleased, he repeated the process, found his aim a little off again, and got down, did five again.

"You know, the same could apply to the fighters. They like it best if you treat them gently. If you get all tense up there, you start to "Hitstick," a bit, and your motions become jerky. It might help you in combat to think about it like a big gun."

Maxrine returned, the stock of her gun now greatly foreshortened, done with a small laser knife from her toolkit. It had been quickly padded with the stuffing from her pillow and some olive-green repair tape. When she knelt down, her posture seemed much better...also of note, she seemed to shoot left-handed, and had modified the stock to suit.

Again, she fired, and again, she went a little wide of the target, though much, much closer this time. She did her five, and stood up. "That fits much better," she said, "Feels good to actually be able to reach the trigger without stretching."

((Jim, when it comes to shooting left-handed, the more important thing is the mechanisms. Most firearms are configured to do things with the right hand, especially pistols. Dropping magazines, decocking the hammer, that sort of thing.))

Snow merely nodded. "I'll remember that," he said, as he took aim and fired again. Perfect shot. It took another five before he missed and pushed out five quick ones.
"And when does our CO deign to try her luck?" he asked somewhat dryly under his breath.

((Okay...Then we'll have to run a little retcon, then...She was either shooting right hand or the rifle was left hand the entire time.))

"Right now."

Walthers walked out, weapon slung over her shoulder. "Target's the blaster mark, right?" she said, immediately bringing the rifle to her shoulder, and shot thrice. The first two hit. The third missed.

"Well, I suppose in the spirit of good sportsmanship..." she got down and quickly, easily, performed five pushups. "It's not a big target, usually I'm good enough to kill cleanly."

Marcus and Maxrine also took turns. Maxrine made her first hit, while Marcus was able to get a pair in a row.

"While we're at it, we might as well get to know one another a little better," Maxrine suggested. "Who'd like to start?"

Snow merely stayed quiet and fired another shot, again hitting the rock dead center. He fired three more times, and then reloaded his weapon.

((Assuming that the weapons have an ammo capacity similar to the magazines of the real rifle, I think it's about that time.))

((Yeah.))

Marcus seemed apprehensive about sharing anything, and knelt down, focused on his marksmanship. One shot made before he fired offtarget. He did his five, then checked the charge on his rifle's energy clip...needed a new one.

Walthers, not wanting to leave poor Maxrine out in the cold, decided to start. "Well...I...actually signed up illegally. I was two years too young, but was mature enough and had a good enough fake ID that they took me in without asking questions. She laughed a little as she took a shot and nailed the target. "It was either that or attend to men's...lower regions. The life of a soldier seemed preferable to me." she fired another shot and missed by just a little. "Shit."

Walthers got down, performed 5 push-ups, and got back up. "So, you're an orphan, then." Maxrine said, as she knelt down with her modified rifle, and fired...missing.
Walthers nodded. "Yeah. How'd you figure that out?"
Maxrine brought herself up off the ground after her push-ups. "Sounds like a similar story to mine. Parents died, had to wander an underwater city in Zoness. Mind you, that was when the pollution was still really bad, so the underwater domes were real slums back then." She looked at the other two. "You guys are lucky to have grown up with at least a parent around."

"Be nice to see my parents soon," mumbled Snow under his breath as he started to fire again. He shot a few good rounds and then sat back down on the ground and sighed.

((Well...I wanted to go further with this line, but with Knight, I'm gonna have to hurry us a little. Skip my next turn.))

Marcus noticed Snow's change in demeanor. "Something up?" he asked. Any reply was cut short by Walthers clearing her throat.

"Let's prep for our mission." She stated. "Head back to camp and change into your ground armor." Marcus looked up, nodded, and walked away, still curious as to why Snow sat down when Movraine spoke of his parents.

Maxrine tilted her head slightly, concerned as well, but had to go get her newly fitted ground armor on, and perhaps mess with her aircraft a little, make it more comfortable for her short stature. She sighed, and walked away.

Snow stood up and shook himself back to his senses. "It's nothing, don't worry abuot it," he said as he went back to his fighter to get equipped. He'd be the one calling the shots on this mission, at least as far as ground tactics went. And, of course, he'd be the one, at least in his mind, to be the one that made any sort of difficult shot. All the fighter jockeys were okay, but he trusted his own abilities over theirs.

*******

Time: 01:00
Place: Just outside Katina Combat Training Base
Mission: get in, get data, get out

The base was down in the depths of the valley, and it had been quite a hike. but even Movraine had made the hike without much trouble.

Marcus tightened his helmet's chin strap. It wasn't his flight helmet, rather, an armored casing designed to somewhat protect him from blasterbolts, as well as contain a comm unit and night vision display on the visor. "Doesn't look like we'll need NV in the base, though," he said. "They've got it well-lit."

that was true. There had been floodlights set up everywhere. Even the Barracks. Poor guy who had to sleep at a window.

"We're approching the entrance target," Walthers said, in a hushed tone. "Snow, you've got lead from here."

Each man has five energy clips, total, ((10, 15 shots?)) as well as one "gtfo of trouble" training Light Grenade. It was usually considered taboo to use those in training, as their range was a bit better than an actual grenade, and they typically fired too much virtual "shrapnel" as well, thus were a bit too effective.