All five of us leave the restaurant headed towards our first class. The text for our highlighted line says WEAPONS TRAINING, making it very clear what it is we're in for. "I wonder how it knows to highlight the line for us. Like, is it the neural interface or something? God I hope not, I'm sick of buildings being able to read my mind, for real. ...actually, now that I think about it, it probably just knows my schedule and where I am with a local GPS or something. I'll take Big Brother over mind reader, I guess," I muse as we make our way down the wide hall. There's general chatter amongst the group, but I've missed the context, and so it takes me a minute to pick up on what exactly Rease and Ko-lee are talking about.
"Yea, a little bit, but it was just small arms. Grineer tech that was salvaged. Technically it had been given to my dad, but he wanted to get rid of it, so I took it," says Ko-lee. "Oh, I was raised with a gun in my hand," says Rease, proudly. "My parents wanted to make sure that I could protect myself, no matter what. You never know what sort of people you'll run into on the rails." His gaze drifts off as he talks, clearly lost in a memory. "Sometimes, you meet with your client to give him what he ordered, but then he changes his mind on paying for it, and then when you tell him you're not leaving the ship without flash in hand, he tries to suck you out the air lock." His gaze refocuses on Ko-lee as he gives a cold grin. "Yea, you get good at handling a gun." Ko-lee looks skeptical, but doesn't call him out on his claim.
"Someone tried to suck you out into space!?" says Ella, seemingly horrified and intrigued in equal measure. "Oh, more than once. But I've got killer grip strength," he says, flexing his fingers. Caz-V snorts, but Rease doesn't seem to notice, his gaze wandering between Ella and Ko-lee, and very occasionally, me. "Subtle as a brick," I think, but I still can't help but grin every time he goes to glance my way only to realize that I'm already looking at him. "Fuck it, we ball. Full harem; me and Ko-lee and Ella and Rease. Caz-V can... I don't know, sit in the cuck chair." I snicker at my own thoughts, and luckily, nobody seems to care. The chatter continues to bounce around for the next ten minutes it takes for us to get to the classroom.
The door slides open, and we see a guy opposite the entry, standing next to a table with what looks like a gun on it. "Teacher, twelve o'clock." The man is wearing a TEPA suit like the rest of us, but it looks well worn, and the grays and blues on his suit are more saturated than the ones on ours. "Bro is giving mid 40s Aizawa. I never realized bags under the eyes could literally be bags," I think. My gaze wanders past him to the rest of the space, which is effectively just a rectangular room, and then to what is clearly a gun range off to our right. "Welcome to weapon's training," he says, as the last of us finish shuffling through the door. "I am Third Deacon Ravon." He looks over all of us as we awkwardly stand there for a moment, before continuing.
"In weapons training, I will teach you to use weapons. In many cases, these weapons will be firearms. Can anyone tell me what the objective of using a firearm is?" Without raising his hand, and barely loud his regular speaking voice, Caz-V says, "Killing things." "Close," says the teacher. "But it's a little more generic than that. The objective is to destroy a target. Your target may not be a person. It may not even be alive. You might want to shoot a virmink when in Orb Vallis. You might want to blow out the window of a Pillar-class Corpus ship. And of course, you might want to shoot a Grineer Lancer. But regardless of what your target is, your goal is to destroy it." He reaches towards the table behind him, picking up the red, black, and white rifle on it. "I'm like 99% sure that's a Braton," I think, as he lifts the weapon.
"Whether you are using a big gun, or a small gun, whether it shoots projectiles of laser or lead, whether it fires fast or slow, explodes or ricochets, the only way to destroy your target, is to hit it. Therefore, for the first month of classes, we will be covering the fundamentals of marksmanship. You will be learning how to point your weapon correctly, and how to fire it correctly." Rease raises his hand, but doesn't wait for the teacher to call on him. "Well, all you gotta do is point the round end at the target, and then pull the trigger," he says, with a confused tone. "And what if you point wrong, Recruit Thomoni? What if you miss the target, alerting them to your presence, when your objective is to stay undetected? What if the projectile recoils, and you hit something, or someone, you don't mean to hit?" Rease doesn't respond, clearly embarrassed.
The teacher turns his head to look at the rest of us. "There are four golden rules when firing a weapon. Along with practice, it will reduce the chance that you make any one of the mistakes I just informed Recruit Thomoni of. Does anyone know what any of these rules are?" My hand shoots up into the air, and the teacher looks at me. "Recruit Nova, you know the four rules?" he asks, his tone betraying his skepticism. "Well, probably not all four, but I think I know two of them. Don't point your gun at stuff you don't want to shoot, and... uhm. Keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot." For a brief moment he regards me, before nodding his head. "Yes, actually. Rules 3 and 2. Do-" I can't help but interrupt, suddenly remembering another one.
"Oh! Wait! Also, treat all guns as loaded!" I say, before feeling a wave of shame rush over me. "Uhm. Sir." I can feel the eyes of my squadmates on me, but I make an intentional decision to not look at any of them. The teacher gives me a smile, and he puts the Braton back on the table, crossing his arms. "Not bad Recruit. Do you know the last one?" I give a small, quick shake of the head. "No, sir," I say. He just chuckles. "You know 3 out of 4 of the rules, and use the proper address when referring to a superior officer? I was told that you were pulled from Earth," he says, in a leading tone. "I was, sir. I wasn't raised Tenno, I just... picked it up, I guess," I tell him, not wanting to shoot myself in the foot. "As far as proper address, Primark Alarez was very clear about how we should refer to a superior officer. Sir."
His tired eyes grow thoughtful for a moment. "Second Primark Alarez? For your onboarding?" he asks, partially to himself. I nod, and catch similar movement out of the corner of my eye. "Hmm. Interesting. Well, in any case, that's not relevant to this class. Back to the fundamentals... we never covered rule four. Know your target. If you fire your weapon, be aware of everything around it and behind it. How far will the projectile travel? Will it hit something and ricochet? I want you to all be aware that we will be covering these rules every class. So, memorize them. Carve them into your mind. I don't care if you're unconscious, I want you following these rules no matter what. They can make the difference between you coming home from an op or not." The class is entirely silent from the intensity of his words, and he takes a moment to look into our souls before he continues. "So. We were talking about pointing your gun."
I watch as he reaches over for the Braton on the table as he speaks. "How can you be sure that the projectile will go where you want? We utilize a feature of the weapon called sights." I watch as he grips the gun by it's handle, tilting along the roll axis to show us the sights on the top of the gun. As he does though, I see his finger slip onto the trigger, and I can't help but sharply intake some air as he does. He stops and looks at me, his eyebrows narrowing. "Do you have something to say, Recruit?" I open my mouth, but no words come out. "Fuck me I haven't been to school in so long and I've literally interrupted him like twice in 2 minutes I mean he literally just said to follow the rules and then went and put his finger on the trigger anyways..." I swallow. "You... uhm, sir. Your finger." He stares at me for a moment, before relaxing and giving me a smile.
"Well spotted Recruit Nova. That's exactly what I want you all to do if you see anyone break the rules. That includes me. Don't wait for someone to say something. Be that someone," he says, taking his finger off the trigger. "This is a training Braton, which means it can't fire any projectiles. I would still like you to treat it as a real weapon. Everyone understand?" There's a round of nods, and he gives us one back. "Good. So," he says, pointing to the top of the gun. "Sights. We have a lot of different technology these days, but a sight is a sight is a sight. We've got two portions." His pointing finger moves close to the barrel. "We have the front sight," he says, before his finger travels closer to the stock, "and we have the rear sight. Now, the goal," he says, as he draws a line with his finger, "is to make a line from your eye, through the rear sight, to the front." His finger lifts up from the gun, and points to the screen behind him, as it springs to life.
On the screen is a simplified representation of an iron sight, aiming at a Grineer soldier. "If your sights are aligned, then everything will be on top of each other." The screen changes to show the same image, but this time with the forward and rear sight misaligned. "If your sights are not aligned, they will look like this. You see how it's askew?" He flicks back to the previous image, and then back to the incorrect one a few times, before looking at the class. "I'm serious, if you don't understand it, please ask. This is your opportunity to do so." The squad is silent, and he takes a deep breath before jumping forward two slides. This one has two pictures side by side; one with a blurry foreground, and one with a blurry background. "Alright then. Next, we make sure we are focused on the sights, not the target. I'll repeat this again. We are focused on the sight. Not the target. Can anybody tell me why?"
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Ella raises her hand after a moment. "Recruit Tygg," says the teacher, looking at her. "Uhm, is it because when we look at the target, the sight gets blurry?" He nods his head once, prompting her to continue. "Oh! Uhm, and... that's cause your eye can only focus on one thing at a time?" Every statement ends in the upswing of a question, as though she's not fully confident of her answer. "You're not wrong, but more specifically, I want to know why a blurry sight is a problem," he says. "Sir, is it because we'd be unable to tell if the sight was aligned?" asks Ko-lee. The teacher gives a grin. "That's exactly it. The sights are there to tell us where the projectile goes. Ergo, if you lose focus of the sights, you are no longer aiming, you're dreaming. We don't need dreamers here, we need soldiers." I bite the inside of my cheek, trying desperately not to grin at the statement.
"Once your eye and sights are aligned, you'll want to keep your eye in the same place every time. For a rifle, such as the Braton, this is easier, because we can practice something called stock weld. Any guesses as to what stock weld is?" Rease raises his hand unsteadily, looking around at us as he does. "Recruit Thomoni. What is stock weld?" asks the teacher, and Rease gives us all one last confused look before facing forwards. "Well... it's gotta be... where you weld. Your stock." The teacher raises his eyebrows. "Weld the stock to what, Recruit?" Rease takes a moment to think, before answering. "Uhm. Your face?" Caz-V snickers, and the teacher turns to him, his expression stone. "Something funny, Recruit Caz-V?" Caz-V's smile drops off his face, and there's a tense moment. "No, sir," he says, his expression betraying nothing. The teacher lets the moment drag out, before turning to look at the rest of us, his expression warm. "Recruit Thomoni is correct. You're welding your face to your stock."
He raises the rifle up to his shoulder, then presses his face against the stock as though trying to make an imprint on his cheek, facing the wall. "From a position like this, when the gun moves, so does your face, and so does your eye." He simulates the recoil of the weapon, his face moving along with the gun. "However, if you're gentle, the weapon will slide as you shoot, and you will lose alignment. If you lose alignment, what happens? Shout it out." "You miss your target, sir," says Ella, in a squeak. "Correct, Recruit Tygg. Again, no resting. I don't need dreamers." He takes his face off the stock of the weapon and turns to look at us. "Finally, your fingers. Where are they?" He looks straight at me, and so I answer. "Off the trigger, until we're ready to fire." He gives me a smile, before looking at the rest of the class. "Correct. But now, I'm ready. I've put my finger on the trigger. I'm ready to fire. I know my target. I'm aligned. How do I pull the trigger?"
Rease raises his hand again. "You just do," he says, in a semi-confident tone. "I'd like specifics," says the teacher. "Fast? Slow? Hard? Soft?" No one responds, and the teacher waits a moment before answering his own question. "We pull smooth, Recruits," he says, drawing out the oo sound in 'smooth'. "We pull smooth, because if we jerk the trigger, we can pull the gun out of alignment. Even if you only move it a few millimeters, that can be inches by the time your projectile reaches it's target." He sets the training gun down, and looks at the squad. "How many of you have fired a gun before?" Me, Ko-lee, and Rease all raise our hands. "That's fine," he says. "We're going to do some basic firing today. Nothing fancy, I just want you to experience the weapon."
He crosses over the tiled floor demarcating the different rooms, and stands next to one of the lanes. "Now listen to what I'm about to say, because this is the most important thing you're going to hear all day. Once you enter your lane, you will not pick up the gun, you will not do anything until I'm next to you. You will make one move at a time, as I tell you to make them. If you do anything I tell you not to, I'm throwing you out. If you don't do what I tell you to, I'm throwing you out. If you are incredibly lucky, you won't be kicked out of basic. Do you all understand?" We give him silent nods, and he scans each of our faces. "I'm deadly serious here. I've done it before, and I'll do it again. I don't want recruits that will shoot each other, or themselves, or for Lotus' sake, me. So follow. The. Rules."
Nobody says anything, and he gives us a tired smile. "Great. Everyone, to a lane." We all split, and I make my way to the one furthest to the right, looking at the gun in front of me. "Holy shit, a Braton. I mean, I know I've messed with the Kraken, but this is like, classic Warframe gun. I'm mean, if I was gunna be picky, I'd ask for a Burston, but still! Braton! And it has a Prime variant, and a Vandal variant I think and maybe also a Wraith Variant! Plus, the Braton has an Incarnon once the Zaramin pops up, so like... staying power," I think, doing my best to keep my hands off the weapon. I hear the teacher talking to someone in a different lane, and moments later, gunfire, although it's strangely muted.
After an excruciating 10 minutes, he walks into my lane. "Recruit Nova. Thank you for being patient. I'm going to have you fire the Braton, but before you touch the weapon, I'd like you to recite the four rules," he says, standing behind me. "Finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire, know your target, uhmm..." I freeze for a moment, unable to remember the other two. "Don't'... oh! Don't aim at anything you don't want to destroy." He waits for a second, then raises an eyebrow. "And the last one?" I sigh. "Yea, I don't remember," I say, giving him an apologetic look. "That's alright, we did just learn them. The last one was always treat the weapon as loaded."
"Fuck, I knew that too," I think, outwardly nodding in response. "I want you to keep them in mind during this exercise, please. Now, you may pick up the gun." I pick it up, making sure to keep the barrel downrange, my finger off the trigger, and to not pass anything in front of the barrel. "Alright, next I'd like you to load the magazine into the weapon," he says, pointing at a magazine on my left. I reach over, and place it in the Braton, feeling a satisfying click. "Thank you for not passing your arm in front of the barrel. Are you left handed?" he asks. "I am, sir," I respond. "Do you know your dominant eye?" he follows up. I shake my head. "I'm assuming that if you're asking me, it's not just whatever hand I use."
"It usually is, but sometimes I'll get a recruit that prefers to use the other eye. But in your case, that makes things easy. Now, please aim down the sights, but do not fire until I say so." I place my cheek against the stock of the Braton, doing my best to keep my hands steady as I aim down the range. "Good," he says, after a couple seconds. "Now, on my mark, you may begin firing the gun. ...mark." I pull the trigger for only a second, and a quick sprrt of bullets flies out of the barrel. "Alright, it's got a bit of a kick," I think, as I look at the line drawn on the target. "Why did you stop firing?" asks the teacher. "Rule 3, sir," I say, my face still locked to the stock. "Excuse me?" he asks. "I have no intent to destroy the ceiling, sir," I say, deadpan. There's a few seconds of silence before he responds. "Fair enough. Keep firing until the magazine is empty. I won't interrupt again." I pull the trigger four more times in rapid succession until I hear the gun click.
"Alright, now, before you put the gun down, I'd like you to do two things. First, remove the magazine." I follow his instructions, and he continues. "Next, I'd like you to rack the slide." His hand comes into my vision, and he points to a bar I had seen move while firing. "Pull it twice, please." I do so, and nothing happens. "Good. We're clearing the chamber," he explains. "I know you fired every shot, and you know you fired every shot, but we practice redundancy. I promise it'll save your life. One more thing. Pull the slide back one more time until it clicks into place. Then you can set it down." I follow his instructions, and finally, set the weapon down on the table. "Adrenaline," I think, noticing my arms shake. "It's a lot more than the Kraken." I step away from my lane to join the semicircle of my squadmates who were all apparently watching me.
"Alright, class is nearly over. You all did well, and by that I mean I didn't have to kick any of you out, which I appreciate," says the teacher, giving us a grin. "Also, I didn't tell you this because I wanted you to focus on safety, but your performance was scored. I'm going to show you the scores in a second, but please, don't worry about your squadmate's scores. The goal is to improve your own score every class. If you do that, I'll be happy." The screen next to the table with the training Braton flicks on, and I quickly scan everyone's scores. Surprisingly, Rease is at the top, with a score of 140 out of 225. After Rease is me, 121 to 225. Ko-lee had 103, Caz-V had 87, and Ella was last with 74. "Hell yeah, second place," I think, right as I notice Ko-lee give me an intense look. "You scored better than me," she says, and I raise my hands placatingly. "I taught you to fire a gun." I can't help but giggle. "Well, no, I've fired a rifle before, with my family. As an American, we're born with a gun in one hand and Mickey D's in the other," I say.
"I thought your last name was Nova?" asks Ella from behind me, causing a spike of nerves to run up my spine. "Ah, fuck. I should probably watch what I say around the squad," I think, as I give Ella a shrug. "I am. America is where I'm from. It's the name of the colony I was born in," I say, trying to impress notes of uninteresting, boring, rote in my voice. There's a moment where she scrunches her eyebrows, and she opens her mouth no doubt to ask another question when she's interrupted by the teacher. "Alright, that's all for today. I'm pretty sure you all have a class to get to. So get."
