(Archived) Strike True

“I pity those with talent; they do not know struggle, so they do not know discipline. And since they do not know discipline, they do not know true triumph.”

Anatasia Stalt, Marshal of the Republican Army of Signa

…

Day 21 

Major James Lucy was an interesting person to look at, Sana had finally decided after several weeks of lessons with the man. He was scarred, but this only added to the wonderful canvas that was his face. His hair was short and raven black with a smattering of grey fuzz around his temple. He appeared simultaneously young and spry, and old and wise. 

Sana struggled to pay attention. 

“… Since destroying a Frame is next to impossible in an active combat situation, your primary objective in battle is to disable your enemy.” The soldier held a little device and clicked, as an apparently ancient projector flicked to the next slide with a satisfying clunk. “We have three primary ways of doing that. Anyone want to take any guesses?” 

The room was quiet. Understandably so – it was hardly twelve minutes past nine on the first day of the week, and even on a soldier’s schedule, such timings were a suffering that everyone felt. After a second, however, the rampant notetaking of a familiar face a row down came to a halt, and a hand shot up shortly after. 

Lucy grumbled. “Yes, Miss Tallet-Smith?” 

“Make the enemy p-pilot surrender, remove the enemy’s c-core, or k-kill the pilot.” Kat counted off her fingers. 

“Yes… That’s correct, Miss Tallet-Smith. Though, I only asked for one example.” Lucy seemed to struggle against making some gesture of his frustration, instead choosing to move the lecture forwards. “These are the only ways to truly mitigate a Frame. The weakest link in any Frame deployment is you – the Pilot. It is vital that you never forget that fact.” 

The lecture dragged on and on after that, and Sana quickly found herself unable to focus. Again. Or, more accurately, her natural state of being was to be unfocused. The words spewed in her direction hit her on the forehead, and bounced off. It seemed like most people in the class felt the same. It was drier than sand. 

A loud slam from the front jolted Sana back to reality, as Lucy slammed a heavy book that could only be described as a tome against his desk. 

“This is Standing-Bird Riley’s Essential Guide to Frame Warfare. It is the paramount textbook on Frame combat doctrine – one of the most comprehensive examinations of our warcraft ever put to paper. And, with no offence intended for Riley’s memory, it is also dense and nigh-on unapproachable. I do not expect any of you to have read a single page of this before today, but the centre demands you do so by next week. Chapter seven to start, and the week after will be chapter five.” 

“Wh-what if we’ve already r-read those chapters, sir?” Sana heard. Ah, right, Kat was at the front. She’d almost forgotten. 

“Then… read them again.” Lucy sighed. “To be frank to all of you, you aren’t going to learn how to be a pilot from a book. Let me tell you from personal experience; I learnt so much more from doing than simply sitting idly by and reading. 

“Which is why I’ve pencilled the second half of today’s time slot in for additional shooting training.” 

The entire class seemed to wake up a bit at that. Even Gordie – who had looked like he was about to fall asleep only a moment before – suddenly paid attention like a dog being propositioned for a walk. He excitedly beamed at her as he, along with the rest of the ten or so teams present within the class, quickly collected their belongings and pulled on their longcoats before rushing down to the front. 

Sana was one of the last to descend down the steps as the entire class moved, taking a cursory glance across what was left of the swiftly abandoned classroom. It wasn’t completely emptied, however, as she looked up and saw two figures remaining in their seats, comparing notes. 

Kat, obviously. Sana quickly noted. The person next to her, however, she was less familiar with. He was part of Kat’s team, she knew that, with dark, swooping hair, marked by channels of stark white that extended from his roots. He seemed way too young to be greying… 

“Kelenov, keep up.” She heard from behind her as Lucy loomed. It wasn’t deliberate – it seemed like everyone around here was able to loom over her without even trying. 

“Right sir, sorry sir.” 

She stepped out through the door, the conversation between Kat and her squadmate entirely lost on her as her mind turned to other things. 

---

Sana was convinced that Mount Killian had the highest number of shooting ranges per capita in the world. From sunrise to sunfall, lights on to lights out, there was always some far off sound of a bolt of metal pinging against a target, echoing across the many canyon walls and cliff faces that surrounded the mountainous facility. 

The large swathe of people – consisting only about a fifth of the year’s total recruits – traced out of the Faye Building, before marching in step around ten metres or so down the main road, almost immediately turning into another house practically adjacent to the one they’d left. Why they had no direct connection between the buildings, she didn’t know – all it served to do was make anyone travelling directly between them cold and miserable as the mountain air blew through. 

The group shuffled inside, Sana entering last and quickly finding a place next to Gordie. Morgan flanked his other side. 

It had been a few weeks, and so far, things had been eerily quiet between the two of them. Sana wasn’t sure if she preferred it… no, that was a total lie, she would take almost no contact over abuse being hurled her way any time she even looked in the giant’s direction. 

“I’m totally gonna beat DeSanto’s high score today,” Gordie said with a determined expression. “She dominated the top spot last year.” 

“What do you think’s changed from then and now?” Morgan asked as if it weren’t a question, but a statement. 

“Oh, so much. I’ve been training all summer. Plus, I’m feeling lucky, what with a beginner hanging around.” 

Gordie glanced up – still not used to it – at Sana, raising his eyebrows like two vast red mountains rising from the desert. 

“I’ve- shot things before.” Sana shot back, unconvincingly.  

“Oh, sure you have.” Gordie replied, drooling with sarcasm. 

“I grew up on a farm, twerp. Everyone and their mother had guns ‘round where I lived.” 

“Uhuh. And how often did they let the kids have a go?” 

“Why are you so sure I’m new to this?” Sana replied in the same half-joking tone, a confused smile on her face. 

“Because we have yet to see you shoot, Kelenov.” She heard Morgan grumble, and immediately she locked her eyes forwards. “Best assumin’ you’ve got beginner’s luck. At least it’ll make Gordie feel better when you inevitably kick his ass.” 

“Hey!-” Gordie jostled. 

“And anyways; we both know if anyone’s beatin’ little miss Dee, it’s gon’ be me again.” 

“Dee, huh?” Sana risked a tease. “Still at it with the pet names?” 

“You shut your mouth.” Morgan fired back. She couldn’t tell if the giant was joking, and so wisely chose to back off.  

“You all know the drill by now.” Lucy explained from the front, calling their attention back. “Weapons down range at all times; give an arm’s length leeway between each shooter; no distracting the shooter, yadda yadda. Anyone caught not following the rules is barred from the range and on cleaning duty for a week.” 

With a single gesture, the small crowd began to shuffle into the inner sanctum of the building – the vast shooting complex had ranges up to a hundred metres over two levels, both pouring ammunition into an outdoor no man’s land out of the shooting windows. The entire building was somewhat multi-purpose, with a small set of gym and soft combat armour stowed at the far back for trainees to use as they waited, but the main attraction was no doubt the shooting ports. 

“Uh, sir?” Sana practically murmured up to the Major, peeling away from her team. 

“Kelenov.” Lucy acknowledged, looking over a clipboard in his hand. 

“I’ve… never been to a range before.” 

The Major looked up for a moment, seeming to pierce through her as he scanned her up and down, before recognition flashed on his face. 

“Ah, of course, Amestine’s private lessons have been taking you out of my shooting classes, hm?” 

“That’s right, sir.” 

“Did they not implore you to practice your shooting skills in your own time?” 

“I- haven’t had the time. My schedule is pretty full as it is.” Sana replied with a nervous laugh, trying to stave off the awkward implications. 

“… Right. Well, first of all, you need to get shooting training in at some point, so you don’t fall completely behind.” He started scribbling on the pad in front of him. She could tell, even from this angle, that his writing was atrocious. “Secondly, have you got any prior shooting experience, at all?” 

Sana glanced down the range, watching as the first few team members carefully removed their weapons of choice from their lockers and with militaristic care carried them over to the port windows. Morgan was up first. 

“No sir. Grew up around them, but… never fired one.” 

“You’ll need to get used to that too, then.” 

On cue, the first shots were lined up, and fired, making Sana jump. She breathed in, and then out again, patting at the side of her waist. It was dry. 

“Some people are natural shots. When there’s a free space, step on up; you might surprise yourself. Get one of the other recruits to help you if you’re lost, and I’d probably try a sidearm out first.” 

Sana nodded, crushing her nails into her hand behind her back. 

“I’ll… I’ll be sure to bring a prosthetic next time, sir.” She admitted. 

“Do what you need, recruit.” 

She stepped back, awkwardly shuffling past the ranks of shooters to her left. After the first few shots, she had grounded herself somewhat, retreating back into a corner of her mind as she reached the far end of the range, standing next to Gordie. 

“Hey, Hey Sunny,” Gordie immediately poked at her as she rested against the wall. “Watch those two.” 

She broke from her trance, glancing over the participants at the front, her eyes landing on two towering figures, both tightly holding the grip of a sporting hand cannon. The taller of the two glanced over, stretching the barrel of the gun forwards, and nonchalantly placing their hand in their coat pocket, turning side on. 

“Watch and learn, miss perfect.” She growled between shots loud enough that half the room could hear. It was clear she was doing it more for the shear spectacle, as she turned her head down range, and pulled the trigger. 

Sana jolted at the noise, clutching at her sides again, as the bullet screamed forwards and crashed into a far off target she couldn’t see. Satisfied, Morgan turned to her impromptu opponent with the smuggest smile she’d ever seen. She didn’t know Morgan was even capable of smiling, let alone eliciting any sort of emotion, bar rage. It was a bit uncanny. 

Her shooting opponent had her back turned to Sana, but she immediately recognised the woman’s long coils. Dolly shook her head, mumbling something under her breath before silencing herself, and lifting her own pistol towards the range. 

In comparison to Morgan’s half slouched stance, there was a refined grace to every movement the woman made as she readied herself to shoot. She held the gun with both hands, planting her boots like tree roots into the earth. She took several seconds to prepare herself, breathing in and out. 

And apparently it paid off. The shot rang out, and after a moment, Dolly returned to a more relaxed position, returning the smug favour back to Morgan, judging by the immediate drop in the Giant’s demeanour. 

“Rotate out, recruits,” Lucy shouted from the far end of the room, as the entire class began to shuffle and change. 

“You’re up, Suns.” Gordie said, grabbing her arm. 

“Wh-what? Don’t you want to go first?” Sana replied quickly, trying to get herself out of embarrassing herself. 

“Nuh-uh, I wanna know what I’m up against!” 

He practically pushed her up to the window, a beaming smile meeting her grimace. She stepped onto the raised stage, turning to the locker beside her. Every weapon inside had been carefully and precisely stowed, and upon seeing the muddy glean of the guns inside, she felt quite sick. She gulped down, reaching inside and pulling up a service pistol. 

Okay, I’ve seen plenty of these before. She thought loud enough that others could hear. Always point it down range. Got it. 

She lifted the hunk of metal, sweeping forwards so it faced down range. She pointed it, aimed, held her breath, and pulled the trigger. 

The trigger didn’t budge. There wasn’t even a satisfying click; the trigger was completely immobile, and she was more worried she’d break it than it firing. 

“You’ve gotta load it first,” she heard from behind her, shattering her focus. “And take the safety off.” 

Dolly had approached her, and her tone said she wasn’t there to help. She stood back expectantly, like what she had said was common knowledge. 

“Right, yeah, of course…” Sana trailed off. How the hell am I supposed to load this, let alone one-handed. 

She heard a long sigh as a second person entered her booth. A hand was thrust into her personal space, and after a moment’s hesitation, she gently rested the weapon into it. 

“You’re clearly incapable,” Dolly stated, shaking her head as she dexterously removed the previous magazine, replacing it with another filled to the top with copperish bullets. She held the gun out, it’s barrel pointing down range. Reluctantly, Sana took it. 

“Thanks.” Sana replied half-heartedly, lifting the weapon again. It was surprisingly weighty. 

“You’re welcome.” Dolly replied in the same tone as she watched Sana readying herself like a hawk watches it’s prey. 

Is there a safety on this? Sana thought. … What does that even look like? 

She glanced at both sides of the gun, and saw nothing that’d say as much. Seemed pretty stupid to make a gun without a safety, but Sana wasn’t about to question the entire manufacturing field. She pointed the weapon forwards, and with a deep breath, she squeezed the trigger- 

The ringing in her ears was exceptional, like an entire drum set thrown at her temple. Her arm felt like jelly and threatened to collapse. But, with a jolt up her spine, she was forced instead to fight against a force upwards, the barrel lifting up almost forty-five degrees with the recoil. She breathed in and out and in and out and was she bleeding? She had to check if she was bleeding. She needed to know, right this second, but her hand was still on the gun and she needed to know and she needed to know now- 

She sheepishly placed the gun on the sill before her, untangling her clammy hand from the grip. Her unwanted mentor tutted, picking it up in her stead. 

“You’re just like Kat; jumpy. But at least she doesn’t hit so wide. Watch, Kelenov.” 

Dolly unloaded every over shot in the magazine, hitting the same target over and over again in a tiny spread around the centre. 

“Like so. I know you’re used to special treatment, but around here you have to actually prove you’re capable. If you’re determined to embarrass yourself, don’t do it in front of everyone else next time, hm?” 

With practised precision, she removed the empty magazine and threw it in a box below the stand, before replacing the gun in its locker, and leaving Sana standing before every staring eye in the room, alone. 

Sheepishly, she carried herself back over to her team. Everyone had seen it. All the memories of her first days in new schools, surrounded by people who at best saw her as a curiosity, and at worst… 

The thoughts and feelings made her feel sick. Her back hit the cool concrete of a pillar on the far wall, and she gently slid down it. Even Gordie looked over her at that point. 

“Welp, that was tragic.” Morgan stated bluntly. “Great job, Kala-” 

“Not right now.” Sana put her foot down, struggling to swallow back the tears. For once, the giant thankfully obliged.

---

Sana trudged to her locker, carefully pulling it open with a loud creak, slipping her arms out of her long coat, and replacing it gently on the coat hanger. 

It had been hours, but it felt like only a few moments. She felt… tiny, like at any moment she was going to collapse into a black hole. Or- something else astrophysics-y that Kat had prattled on about. She looked inside the small cubby that was hers, the sheet metal bent into place with far too sharp edges. 

“Budge over, Suns.” Gordie said from behind her, dragging her back to reality kicking and screaming. “Wanna get to my locker.” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” She replied, making space for the shorter man to slip by between her body and the wall. He reached to the handle of his locker and wrenched it open. 

“You sound glum. Still… thinking about what happened?” 

“Whenever I try and think of something else, I loop back around to it again. Usually I can’t even focus… this is a curse.” 

Gordie nodded out of the corner of her eye, removing his longcoat in silence. Silence with him was a rare sign – it meant he wanted you to talk, so, yeah, not a common event. Sana resigned herself to say nothing, ‘cause was there to say? Gordie had been there that entire time and had seen the entire thing, just like everyone else- 

She slammed the locker closed. It bounced, swinging open again, forcing her to make a pitiful second attempt at getting it closed. When the latch set in, she kicked the stupid thing with her boot, before turning and wiping her hand through her hair, patting it in circular motions as she started to pace. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“She- she doesn’t even know me! And yet she felt the need to show me up like that, in front of everyone, I-, I-” She trailed, stifling a wave of tears she felt crash against her eyes. Her back hit the rows of lockers, and she slid down to the floor, hand over face. 

“I can’t shoot, in all senses. Even with my prosthetic, it would’ve been a tragic failure. Everyone was staring at me like- like I wasn’t supposed to be here.” 

“Dee’s a bitch.” Morgan announced her presence from the door of their dormitory, stepping inside and closing it behind her. 

“Gee, thanks Morgan, I noticed that myself… Glad we agree on something, at least.” she replied bitterly. 

“What that means, is you shouldn’t take a single word of hers for salt.” 

“…What does salt have anything to do with it-” 

The giant stepped before the light, casting Sana’s wallow-space on the floor in shadow. She leant forwards, entering her space with all the reckless abandon that Sana had come to expect by this point. 

“Point is, you’re letting her get to ya, instead of doin’ somethin’ about it.” 

“Like what? What am I supposed to do?” 

“I dunno. Get better.” 

Sana scoffed. “What fantastic advice. You should start teaching seminars.” 

“She’s not wrong, Suns.” Gordie added from behind her. 

“Don’t you start, Gordie.” 

“Seriously, she’s right.” The boy continued. “We’ve had to deal with Dolly for like- a year now. She thinks she runs this place, practically, and she has high standards for everyone around her.” 

“I don’t think I should have to meet her ‘standards’ for her to be left the hell alone…” 

“Gosh, you really can’t stand up for yourself, can you?” Morgan butted in, breaking up her thoughtful pause. 

“What?” Sana lifted herself to her feet. Morgan’s natural ability to loom persisted, and thus she barely felt the change in dynamic. 

“What did I tell ya, a few weeks back? Start standin’ up for yourself. No one else is gonna do it for you. It’s pathetic.” 

“Are you really trying to kick me whilst I’m down right now?” Sana shot back. 

“Okay, you two, stop it.” Gordie said with a sigh like a father breaking up his a fight between his (very) young children. Morgan huffed, looking away. 

“Even if Dee still hates ya, that was an embarrassin’ display. Pilots are the best of the best – so, naturally, you need to get better at every skill under the umbrella, eh?” 

Sana turned away, her eyes locked onto the floor as she scrunched her face up. God dammit, Sana thought. 

“Yeah, okay, good point. Could’ve gone without the side of aggression to get to it, but… yeah. Message received.” 

Morgan looked satisfied, folding her arms. “Finally, she starts to listen.” 

“One problem, though – I can’t exactly get better if I can’t train. And right now, all my time’s taken up with Amestine’s lessons.” 

“What do you even do in those?” Gordie asked. She thought for a second – was it worth revealing she’d already Frameshifted? Even to her close friend and middling frenemy, it seemed risky. It’d only been a fortnight and a half since they’d met… but then again, they were already the closest friends she’d ever had. 

Gods, that was sad to think about. 

“Uh, a bunch of stuff, you know? Tactics, uh…” she quickly ran out of other options, “more tactics?” 

“Happens some years,” Morgan clarified, climbing into her bunk. “An officer makes special arrangements. Not like they let us recruits in on why. That’s probably another reason Dee hates you by the way; that ‘special treatment’, as she called it.” 

“Fantastic, yet another target on my back.” Sana reasoned glumly. 

“Wait a minute…” Gordie grabbed her attention, walking over to a digital calendar that sat embedded in the wall, and skimming over it. “A-hah! Thought so.” 

“What’s that?” Sana asked, following her shorter friend. She was hardly used to the inner workings of the complex military scheduling system laid out on the terminal before them, and thus waited for his experienced eyes to read them over and translate. 

“You’ve been scheduled for an out-of-hours class, apparently. I thought the Major would sign you up for something, if his judgy looks were anything to go by.” 

“What? When?” 

“Tonight. In, uh… ten minutes.” 

“… Shit. Who with? And where?” She replied hurriedly, rushing back to her locker and hastily trying to open it past the new dents. 

“The Barn, apparently. Same place we were today,” Gordie squinted, tapping the screen multiple times before it responded. “With… Kat, good, and some guy called ‘Streams-of-Light-Between-the-Branches’?” 

“What kind of name is that?” 

“Adzeqan, probably.” She heard from Morgan’s bunk, where the giant pretended not to be paying attention. 

“Ah, also known as Marko. Know him?” 

Sana sighed. “He’s the other lackie on Dolly’s team.” 

“Well, it won’t be that bad, right? Kat’s on her team and she’s nice enough.” 

“But she won’t stand up for me if this guy sucks. She’s too- too-” Sana gestured in the air, scrunching up her face, before stopping herself as she lost the word. 

“Go on?” He asked with a smirk. 

“Too small… and quiet?” 

“Mousy?” 

“Mousy, yeah, that’s probably it.” Sana replied. “Point is, she doesn’t stop Dolly, so she probably wouldn’t stop this guy from being a dick either.” 

She glanced at the time – the only part of the complicated system she could read with a glance. 

“Ah shit, I gotta go.” She said, hurriedly grabbing her state-provided prosthetic – and still loathing the fact she hadn’t repaired her proper one -, not even bothering to install it as she rushed out. 

“Have fun!” Gordie replied, half-genuine.  

“Don’t get shot.” Morgan added vacantly. 

---

 

She jogged up the steps at the front of the same barn-like building as before, huffing as her legs carried her forwards. The residential blocks weren’t exactly far, but Sana was by no means a good runner. 

Already half exhausted from the day’s events, she dragged herself up the last few steps. Taking a moment to breathe in and ready herself to relive the painful memories again, she pushed open the door and stepped through. 

Eerie didn’t cut it. The insides of the hall, made for a class of thirty to fifty, was a whole different beast alone. There were lights on further in, thankfully, but beyond that there was indication that the place was anything but abandoned. The shutters of the front desk were firmly closed. Hesitantly, Sana went to push through the door. 

Three figures stood at the far end, two on the raised stage, and the other stood back and out of the way, watching like an owl. As she approached, her boots echoing on the concrete, she was quickly noticed by some of the party ahead. 

“Nice of you to finally join us, Recruit.” She heard the come through from the commanding chords of Major Lucy. 

“I didn’t know this was on my schedule until about ten minutes ago,” she replied, trying to stifle her annoyance and resoundingly failing. “Sir.” 

Stepping off the stage, apparently just finished, was a slightly taller form she immediately recognised. Tied hair, square glasses, and a small wordless wave came her way. She waved back to Kat gently. 

“I see you have your prosthetic too.” Lucy added. “I expected it’d be bigger.” 

“Uh, no sir, not this one. Still need to repair my proper one.” 

“Wh-what happened to it?” Kat asked meekly. 

“Uhhh…” Sana bit at her cheek, trying desperately to find a satisfying explanation, and failing. “I… dropped it, hasn’t worked since.” 

“That’s too bad.” Lucy replied, checking his notes. “Speaking of tragic things, Kelenov, your display today was… Frankly abysmal. Those were civilian levels of arms handling.” 

She hadn’t been prepared for him to go for the throat so suddenly. Motionless, she retreated into herself. 

“Which is why you need all the training you can get.” He continued, before gesturing towards the occupied booth. “Recruit Ellaqan will show you the ropes. Tallet-Smith, I want you to practise your procedure independently.” 

Kat nodded, but although her expression remained much the same, she had a general aura of nerves, pulsing into the aether around her. Looking her over, Sana couldn’t tell if it was her usual disposition shining through, or something else. 

She smiled to the freckled woman, receiving a small smile back as her one assured ally in this situation turned and split off from the group.  

Then, Sana looked up at her assigned mentor. Marko – someone she had only heard second hand about. One of Dolly’s lackeys, probably a bit of a prick- 

Okay, no, she derailed her train of thought, stop doing that. Dolly sucks, but that doesn’t mean everyone around her sucks? We haven’t even heard this guy speak before, let’s not- jump to conclusions. 

She sighed. 

Fine. 

“Hiya!” she said boisterously, feigning a confidence she had left behind in Dulkat. “I’m Oksana, though you can call me Sana for short.” 

She reached out her hand, and there was a pause. And then a moment. Seconds passed, and nothing changed. The looming figure was playing with a design in front of him, long black locks of hair covering much of his back, and swaying like branches in the wind as he fiddled with the item before him. She pulled her hand back hesitantly. 

“Uh, hello?” Sana asked again, mildly insulted, but determined not to let this one show through. 

After a moment, the virtual redwood slowly turned around like a bear waking from hibernation. Apparently, it had nothing to do with her calls, as he looked almost shocked to see her on the other side of his swivel. 

He waved with one hand, replacing the pistol he’d just finished polishing to the rack besides him. Sana waved back, and then continued. 

“…I don’t know if you were paying attention but apparently you and me are supposed to work together.” She said with exaggerated gestures as her nerves began to bubble. 

The man stared at her, but not down upon her like most everyone else. All eyes were hard to look at, but his had a warmness to their edges that she certainly didn’t expect from one of Dolly’s circle. She glanced upon and down, again being drawn to the long mane of hair, stricken with deltas of white that arose from splotches on his scalp. 

He lifted his hands, and made a few select gestures, before offering a warm smile. 

Sana was so confused. 

“He said y-you’re welcome to join him,” Kat translated, poking her head around the corner. 

“How did you-” 

“Understand s-sign language? It’s… A long story.” 

“Oh. Oh!” Sana suddenly realised. “He can’t hear?” 

Marko made a number of gestures, and Kat snickered to herself, before throwing a few signs back. 

“What’s… Going on, what are you saying?” 

“He’s saying that he thought i-it’d be obvious by n-now.” 

The two smirked, but for once it didn’t feel at Sana’s expense. It was a warm laugh shared, and she couldn’t help but smile, even in her embarrassment. She put her face in her hands, before in one motion wiping her hair out of her face. 

“Okay, to my credit, I’ve never met someone who is…” She trailed off, fishing for the right word. 

“Deaf,” Kat gestured to her ear as she spoke. 

“That’s the one. I’ve never even known someone who was, let alone another pilot.” 

Marko made a number of gestures again, primarily to Kat, who diligently watched and nodded. 

“I-I need to do my own pr-practice. He c-can be pretty self-explanatory, but if y-you get really stuck, u-use the whiteboard.” 

She pointed at a board – presumably for keeping score – hanging inside the booth. Sana nodded. 

“Okay, I can make this work,” Sana replied self-assuredly. “Thank you, Kat.” 

“N-no pr-pr… It’s no issue,” Kat stuttered, swiping her fringe back behind her ear as she retreated back to her own tasks. 

She looked up at Marko, who returned a smile, beckoning her to climb into the booth with a hand. 

Lords it was cramped. Marko was taller than Morgan by a few centimetres, and although he wasn’t as bulky, any free space in the booth was quickly filled.  

“So, uhm… What am I shooting?” She said up to the man towering like a redwood tree. She played with her hands absentmindedly as she spoke, immediately anxious at the cramped space. 

Wordlessly, her partner crouched before the small locker, easily taking most of the breathing room in the booth with a single move. Sana squeezed against the wall with a sigh as the man rummaged.  

After a moment, he lifted up something, followed by a lift of his entire body back to its full height. He placed a gun onto the sill, reminiscent of the one she had fired that morning, before gesturing for her to take it. 

“Oh… I’m not great with this one…” She said, side eyeing the firearm. In return, the man lifted both his hands, lanky fingers splayed. He pointed at himself, and then one of his hands. Then, he pointed at Sana, before pointing at the opposite hand, and then the gun. 

“… What?” Sana scrunched up her face, confused, earning something that resembled a sigh, albeit much softer. The man turned to the whiteboard, picking up the pen that dangled on a chain next to it, and writing a short message. 

This gun is left handed, it read as he pointed to it. Sana nodded, only then putting the rest of the message together. 

She stepped up to the sill, looking down at the weapon. Hesitantly, she threaded her fingers around the grip, gently lifting the weapon into the air. 

Wordlessly, Marko tapped the prosthetic, and gestured for Sana to place it at the bottom of the grip. She nodded, putting the gun down to manually adjust the piece-of-crap, and resting the base of the grip in it’s plastic palm. 

She looked over the service pistol, and unlike before, noticed a small little notch with “safety” scrawled below it on the right side. She looked to Marko, who nodded, and she flicked it down. 

She exhaled. “Okay Sana, we can do this.” She said aloud, knowing her companion wouldn’t hear. “Just- pull the trigger.” 

She stood for a long moment, gently rocking on her feet. Her finger tapped against the trigger, the barrel firmly pointed down range. Just put pressure on, and fire. It’s not that hard. 

Are you that pathetic? 

She gulped. 

Around here you have to actually prove you’re capable. 

She adjusted her posture slightly – that was it, that’s what was making her feel out of place. Yeah, she could do this. 

Shutdown immediately and come out with your hands up. 

She heard a bang, and she jolted. It hadn’t come from her weapon, making the suddenness even more frightening. She almost let go of the gun in her hand, letting it slip slightly. 

Marko placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to tear her eyes away from the ironsights before her. He shook his head, and gestured not down range, but to the gun. After a moment of confusion mixed with the come down of fear, Marko rubbed off his previous work from the whiteboard, and wrote something quickly. 

Are you okay? it read. 

Sana didn’t know. She went to put the gun down on the sill, before quickly flicking the safety back on first, and then putting it down with a clatter. 

She folded her arms, moving them like snakes in and over each other, unable to be comfortable. She breathed hard and heavy, a wave of shivering cold wrapping up and down and back up her body again and again. 

Marko looked down at her, his eyes piercing through her, she just knew it. And after a moment, he stepped off the stage, leaving her alone.  

Several more shots fired out, but they felt otherworldly. After a moment they stopped, but she still wanted to cry, or scream, or do anything else but freeze up. But she couldn’t. She was alone, again. She was cold and tired and alone. She didn’t know what to do. 

Marko returned to her vision after a minute or so. In one hand, dangling, she recognised a set of ear defenders, which she immediately grabbed and wrenched them onto her head, breathing in, then out. The man stepped back onto the stage after she had calmed for a moment, immediately giving her some desperately needed space. 

She glanced over, and saw him gesture. She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant, but even despite the ringing and the disassociating, the gestures grounded her. 

[No… gun]. That’s what he was saying, right? She nodded slightly, resting her shoulder against the frame of the booth. She looked around the space, properly absorbing it for the first time. She hadn’t even realised how far away her head had been. 

She glanced down – gun closet, no thank you, don’t wanna think about those right now – and then up again. Her eyes were glazed, but for a moment, focus returned to a peculiar object, held on the wall on the far end of the Barn. 

It was a reaching black crescent, shimmering in the low light. At either end sat two large spools, attached together by a stretch of twine. Sana immediately recognised it for the bow it was, and after a moment of allowing herself to breathe, she caught Marko’s eye, and pointed at it. With a nod, Marko marched over and detached the bow from the wall, checking it over, before stomping back over – perhaps not realising how loud his gait was – and replaced the firearm on the rack, turning the booth into an archery section instead in only a few moments. He offered the bow to her, and she tentatively took it off his hands. 

“I’ve… I’ve used one of these before.” She said loudly enough that she could hear the muffle over her defenders. “It’s been a while, though. And surely I can’t just- not use guns cos they make me jumpy. Pilots are supposed to use guns, so-” 

Marko put a finger up to pause her and turned to the whiteboard, scribbling down a small essay (with pictures). After about a minute, he stepped back again, letting Sana read. 

Pilots can use many weapons. Guns, bows, swords, whatever else – they all have their own niche. 

“Like what?” She replied loudly, as if he’d hear it as such. She knew empty words and consolation would only make her feel worse.  

He shook his head, almost with a tut, and turned to wipe the board down before beginning to quickly jot down a small and concise list.  

Package delivery, quiet ranged shots (not that it makes a difference to me) and ‘cool arrowheads’ were only a few amongst the quick list the giant had scrawled out. At the very bottom, though, it read and most importantly, they’re rad as hell! Sana chuckled, though she deliberately stifled it. She was concerned she might cry. Instead, she sniffled, wiping her nose, and nodded. 

“Thanks… I needed to see that.” She replied, though Marko was already back at the whiteboard writing, stretching over to reach it. He finished with a dramatic dot, and let her read. 

Take a shot. I want to see where you can improve. 

Sana nodded. She had used a bow before… albeit with her real prosthetic. She understood the procedure at least, as she forced the hunk of plastic on her right arm to open it’s metal claw. She gently rested the grip of the bow in it, and closed her fake hand around it. 

Lifting the prosthetic up, she looked down range, where several targets were illuminated by floodlights. She paused, taking a breath, before reaching to the quiver Marko had brought too and pulling an arrow. 

She turned herself, holding the bow steady with her right arm, and knocking the arrow into place with her left, threading its base against the drawstring.  

She pulled the entire superstructure back, and she knew the bow would be arching and creaking, if she could hear any of it. She remembered back to her childhood, at how her parents had compromised and let her use bows instead of guns. She was never good, and her interests had quickly swerved to other things as they often did, but she remembered the feeling – she had grown at least a partial knack for it, and as she stood in place, body sideways, she felt like a little kid again. Not some downtrodden recruit who only a moment ago had nearly burst instead tears – a wild and free spirited child, free from the burdens of the world. 

She breathed in. She could hear distant shots be fired, but they were much more like a pop than a bang. And they were very far away from where she was. 

She released the arrow, and the breath she held with it. 

It soared faster than her eyes could follow, crashing against the target nearest her. They were made for bullets to pierce through and come to a halt instead of ricocheting and hitting something important, and her arrow wasn’t much different. It struck against the target, nowhere near the centre, but unquestionably within its bounds. 

She gently lowered the bow, examining her target. It was maybe thirty metres away, give or take – practically nothing in rifling terms, but for a bow it wasn’t too shabby, especially after not having touched one for years. 

She beamed up to Marko, who folded his arms and nodded. He gestured down range, beckoning her to go again. Quickly, she pulled another arrow, and knocked it again, ready to release. 

She hadn’t expected to feel good today. She didn’t, really – she still felt like utter shit. But at least this part didn’t add to the pile. 

---

“It’ll be the same time next week until you show an improvement on the range,” Lucy explained at the door to the barn. The others stood just beyond, waiting for the discussion to come to a close and signing amongst themselves. 

“I mean, I thought I was doing pretty well with the bow by the end,” Sana replied. She hadn’t fully regained her confidence yet, but she certainly felt a little better after everything from that day. 

“Yes, I saw. You did good work, Recruit,” the Major said was a warm smile.  

“I feel like there’s a but coming-” 

“But,” Lucy said on cue. 

“There it is.” 

“…You can’t rely on a bow and arrow if you’re ever forced to disembark. You’ll need to keep coming back to this group, at least until you’re competent with a service pistol.” 

Sana looked down, and then at the other two members of their little club. They were thoroughly distracted by their own silent conversation. Kat seemed in her element – she wasn’t sure she’d seen the woman smile so much in one sitting – whilst Marko, as surprising as it was, signed happily along too. 

“Eh, that won’t be so bad, sir.” 

Edited by Jennifer C.

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