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Big Eyes, Small Mouth (BESM): Nexus Earth - Chapter 11.5: The Measure of a Marksman


Columbian

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It was a good thing that Lt. Rathbone had come to him for combat training advice, Francis reflected. Otherwise, given that the main focus now was politics that he was completely inappropriate for, he'd have burnt himself out with excessive training with Nagareboshi. Not that if all went well, there wasn't going to be much fighting left on Earth or in Dalaaran.

For a moment, Francis faced the quintessential question pondered by Roman legionnaires mustered out in the ancient Republic, or military veterans of the 'current day' First-world nations. What could men of war do in peacetime?

Not a promising situation, he know.

He shoved his mind off it, standing in a training room without simulators. It was a dojo section, attached to a firing range a few doors down. The fact was, she needed to how to handle guns and fist-fight with more than mecha weapons, and the sims presupposed a capacity for that.

Well, things would hurt before she got better, that's what.

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Rebecca walks in, wearing her SCRT-4 duty jumpsuit. She's started to get used to the feel of the suits, particularly since her flight suit is undergoing a re-tooling. It's been a while since she's spoiled herself.

Of course things don't feel much different since she's elected to wear the boarding vest over her jumpsuit she wore during the defense of the palace and the subsequent events. She has the standard ship-security energy assault rifle over her shoulder and a side-arm worthy plasma pistol in a side holster.

She stands at attention, more to present herself to Francis for training more than out of a respect of ranks. "Well, thought I bring these for the training. The basic, standard-issue stuff. Ready when you are, Agent."

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Francis nodded quietly as he sized Rebecca up. Too rigid, and simply not ready for a in the flesh attack. "Well Lieutenant," he pronounced firmly with an instructor's authority. "I'd like for you to recite what direct combat training you've received, if any."

When she was done, he looked crossly at the vest. "You're not going to be wearing armor, are you? I suggest you take it off. We're starting hand to hand first."

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"I wagered I should get used to the weight of my gear and the armor was a proper analogue." She says, starting to take it off. "But if you insist. You're the instructor."

She unlatches the magnetic couplings on some of the plates of the vest and starts to remove it. "Didn't mean an insult there."

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"First things first," Francis established, "you have to learn to take the punishment. Toughen you up, as it is." When she was distracted with tossing away the removed the vest, his fist whipped into her stomach and Rebecca crumpled to the ground. Francis stepped back and observed her.

"Sorry, did I say that? First thing is readiness at all times while in the dojo. Marksmanship is a different animal, and will be treated as such. But here, I will attack you at any time I choose, and a goal of mine is to have you be able to block the attack. This will not be excessively used, mind you. Now, please get up and we'll work on your basic combat stance."

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Rebecca reacts quite unexpectedly for Francis' sudden attack. First after the shot to her stomach when she buckles over she vomits her lunch she had earlier unto the floor. After a couple deep breaths to regain control she staggers for a moment then regains her composure and... smiles?

"So... The hard way... GOOD. I'm sick and tired of people treating me with kid gloves... Lets do this!" She says, taking what to her is a pretty defensive posture.

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Francis shook his head in a manner suited to someone seeing that they have quite a lot of work to do. "You really need toughening up." He settled into a basic defensive stance. "If you're ready, attack me." Francis ordered.

Too much bluster on Rebecca's end, her direct punch was too slow compared to a veteran, and Francis caught the fist, reeled her in with the momentum like a fish, and left hooked a blow into her face. The results were not pretty.

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The first thing Francis hears when she hits the floor is the sound of her sliding back. She stifles a whimper as she rolls to her stomach and starts getting back up, blood dripping from her nose. this is the first time in a long time she's been hurt this bad in a while. Even if it was Dojo sparring. Her eyes blurred by tears but she holds her emotion back.

"Dammit... Now... I know why I'm in this situation."

She spits out some blood that got into her mouth from her nose.

"Proving a point, Francis? I'm warning you I see one hint of sadism and I walk out. I'll find another way to train. I want to you because you knew what you were doing."

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"Sadism?" Francis snorted and shook his head even as he helped Rebecca back up. "Let me tell you something Lieutenant. You think you've seen combat flying a mecha? Sure, your neck is at risk, but if your mecha goes boom, death is more or less too quick for you to really feel the pain. In real combat, you have to overcome fatigue from constant fighting. Plenty of shots, blows or swipes don't kill you outright. Sure, they go for the instant kill, but it doesn't always work like that. In any case, with that kind of resistance to pain, even if you had the best weapons in the world, a mere grunt could knock you over then put a bullet in your brain. The point is... if you can't take it, you won't be dishing it out for very long."

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"But breaking a sword before it's forged is unwise... also is trusting a sword that is seemingly unsharpened." She says, while grabbing the all of Agent Francis and with everything she has twists and sends him to the floor with a slam, and with her positioned over him, she throws a punch with knuckles exposed a scant inch from his windpipe.

"If you're to become a pilot, Francis... expect the unexpected."

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Francis couldn't help a grin. "That's better than I was expecting. But, that took everything you had to execute. Now-" He slammed a knee into her belly and then rolled out from under her. "You need more endurance than that. A pilot doesn't get that kind of shot more than once."

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About a minute later the doors opened, and a team of armor clad Spartans from CRT 13 came in. Seeing Rebecca lying on the ground, out cold, Kelly looked to Francis. "We will file the report. Be prepared to answer to Captain Hoshino why you incapacitated her Lieutenant in a sparring match."

She shook her head. "Next time, if you get one and you do this, I will put you down as a threat."

Two of the armor-clad troopers carried Rebecca out on a portable stretcher, with one preceding them and Kelly and the final trooper bringing up the rear, leaving Francis alone to consider what he'd done.

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Francis observed them as they departed, and then finally, his dispassionate control cracked. He walked over to the wall and sank back down, the truth of his actions sank in. On one hand, this was the sort of training he'd gotten back home, where medical technology allowed one to recover fast and be sent right back for another go. But he'd hated such training when he'd received it. What had he been thinking, being the instructor now?

Well, Nagareboshi, Ruri and Kai will rip me new holes now. Which I certainly deserve.

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Pretty clear to me. "She came to me for marksmanship and hand to hand combat training. I was trying to instruct her with the style of training I remember, which in hindsight was inappropriate, and I took it too far for that matter. So I deserve the consequences."

Francis got up and decided to look for Ruri. No use putting it off.

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Nagareboshi remained silent at this, Francis was in very unfamiliar waters here. It would take some time to reach where the computer revealed Ruri to be, as she was in the heart of the manufacturing center of the Macross. Long before he reached her he encountered a great metal door outside the Fabrication system, a heavy reinforced bulkhead, guarded by two full size Shadow Hawk class Mecha, each one fifty five tons of metal and weaponry.

"Halt, State your business."

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The two medium class mecha withdrew their massive cannon arms, and the bulkhead opened. "Proceed to sector 7G, She is waiting for you there."

The trip through the complex took almost an hour. Deep in the bowels he found Ruri overseeing an assembly line, working to build and replace mecha that had been lost in the previous battles. This one was far larger than most and while it looked slow, it had massive firepower.

Behemoth_2.JPG

"Agent Gold. I trust you have a valid explanation for the incident with my Lieutenant."

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The use of Agent here was hard and disapproving, as was everything Francis heard in that voice. And all too expected. "She came to me for marksmanship and hand to hand combat training. I chose to start her on the hand to hand aspects- and then fucked everything up. I used the training regimen I remembered from my past, which in retrospect was completely inappropriate. I compounded that by taking it too far. And now she's on a stretcher."

It was supposed to be parade ground precise, but a tremor revealed his own feelings of guilt here. "That's it. Valid it may be... good it surely isn't."

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"She'll be up in a bit. Luckily for you there was no permanent damage. I'm glad you realize how inappropriate your methods were. I realize the future is harsher in some ways, but in sparring we do not train that way. that costs us valuable soldiers, and wasted resources."

She shook her head. "It's difficult for me to devise a method to truly rebuke you, as you are not part of my chain of command."

"Be that as it may, I am going to do this. You will be restricted to the ship, unless you are accompanied by another Satoshi officer. Secondly, You are going to become one of our communications officers. You will put in a minimum six hour shift a day." Coom duty was insanely boring work, and considered menial by many others. "Finally, once she is well, you will apologize to Lieutenant Rathbone. Until then you will have no contact with her not directly related to your comm duty."

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"Funny," Francis remarked. "I thought we weren't expecting a war so soon." Seeing Ruri's glance, he elaborated. "It's basically a walking artillery piece. Slow, but devastating to whatever it hits. But faster and numerous hostiles could overwhelm it. This isn't a design for defensive or patrol ops, that's clear. Either we would be attacking, or an attack on us gets by the outer defenses."

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"The Destroid is a defender primarily, if it has to go attack we're in trouble. But yes, it can knock ships up to corvette size from the sky with a full salvo in the right location."

She nodded. "This war is over. The Invaders are still out there. We used the Getter Robo alot, there's a chance they may find their way here. We will be ready."

"Your concerns would be valid, but I've spared nothing in the mecha's assembly. It possesses a full Countermeasure suite, and a new alloy armor that is stronger even than that plating the Macross. It has a full 360 degree range of torso rotation, and even if something finds its blindspot, it has means to dissuade that as well."

She spares a tiny smile. "This will help me fulfill my mission."

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Francis was impressed at the effort going into these. "Yeah, you'll probably have plenty of these cranked out soon enough... There'll be firepower on this side, all right." He sighed... "Well, please excuse me. I'm going to get my affairs in order before reporting back at 1800." Maybe if he could carry out practice with Nagareboshi, that would help get his mind off the errors. What was done, was done. At least he recognized the folly...

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"Funny," Francis remarked. "Sometimes I think there hasn't been a time where you haven't been watching me." He left, and returned straight to the combat simulator room. You remember what I asked you just before they woke me out of the coma, Nagareboshi? Are you up for it this time around?

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Ok, that would make sense. Francis admitted embarrassed. Finding you had nearly died because of the time you spent had that effect on memories later on. In that case, I'm shelving this until the situation is over. Time to get a meal before the remaining free time was up. When he got his meal, he could almost swear he saw the cook scowl at him, but he had been distracted by the meatloaf enough to not be sure. He ate, then went to his room. When the clock struck 1800 hours, he was present for comm duty.

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The first three days were boring beyond belief. The 4th day did have a an interesting anomaly with a IR spike at the system's Nadir point, but it was very very minor. A shuttle with a trio of recon mechs was launched, and thanks to being fully automated, it could pull it's max of six Gees.

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Well, it was something at last. Francis had the shuttle going at full speed. The shuttle slowed down as the location of the spike was getting closer, and then it halted a fair distance away. Francis deployed the mecha in a V formation, and sent them cautiously forward.

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Their sensors, augmented as they were recorded everything. Something had come through, several somethings. One was at least seven hundred thousand tons, likely more. The screens winked out for a second then came back online. In the distance 4 sets of light were blinking.

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Francis grew suspicious, and pulled back two of the drones, sending the last one even more forward. He opened a communication to Ruri as well. "Captain, there's several unidentified objects that came into the system. Might be ships... one is definitely 700k tons minimum. Please advise."

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Francis' breath slowed, and he felt at this moment terribly irked that he would be stuck behind the comms for what was to come, rather than in the action... I really don't know what to do in peacetime anymore, do I? He slammed the button link, even as he ordered the drones to spread and get some estimation of the overall Invader fleet size. "Captain, I have confirmation, they are Invaders. I repeat, I have confirmation they are Invaders."

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