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Aberrant: Stargate Universe - Shedding the Path of Peace


z-Olivia Jenings-Izumi

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Declan could hear the music before he got to the training room. It didn't sound all that ambient, more like rap. It wasn't mainstream rap; it was rougher and had a more indie sound. It was too loud, to his more quiet-minded ears, and he opened the door slowly.

Olivia was in the middle of the room, stretching out. She was sitting with her legs in a 'V'; when she saw him, she grinned and waved. Rolling to her knees, she crawled to the disc player and shut off the music. "Morning, Sargent."

"Morning, Doctor," he said. Olivia smiled at his greeting; despite yesterday's run, there didn't seem to be any lingering discomfort, at least on her end. That might change, but she had some ideas for combating that.

Olivia put another CD in and turned down the sound before hitting the start button. This music was more like what Declan had been expecting, and it was not blaring out of the machine like an aural tsunami. Turning, she looked at her trainer closely. "So, I've been thinking. When I freak out, it's completely a panic-reaction. I think we can supersede that reaction with another: rational thought. When we get to the close combat, I think you should talk to me. Just things like what I should try to do to break the hold, reminding me to keep my head, or just anything that's going to keep me from letting my hind-brain engage. How does that sound to you?"

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He smiled at her as he removed his jacket and boots, leaving the shades in place. His hair was damp as it brushed his collar, an indication he'd recently showered. "Sounds like you've got the right idea." He gave no indication that he had spent a mostly sleepless night worrying about today, and was relieved that the Doc seemed to have adjusted to the events of the ambush and applied herself to the problem at hand. "We'll start with some sticking hands, but standing. Use your feet, but no more than a step in any direction at a time, and always come back to the starting position. Like before, it's about balance and reading the opponent's intent. Once you're warmed up, we'll start with the close work."

They took their positions facing each other and began the slow-starting exercise, Dec paying attention to her feet as well as the way she rolled and bent her torso as they got into the back and forth.

"So, how do you feel today, Doc?" he asked as they worked up a little more speed. "Stiff or sore at all?"

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"A little," Olivia admitted with a frown. "I have a couple of ugly blisters, and my calves ache from that last climb. I'm worried that it's going to become a problem. I get hurt and worn out faster than you guys, and I don't bounce back as fast. I really don't want to hold you guys back."

She didn't speak of the envy in her heart. She knew that her new mind was a gift, but she didn't have even the slightest physical gift. Would it have been too much to ask, that she be able to fly or be a kung fu master, or just to keep up?

Olivia pushed such dark thoughts away. She hadn't been given any such gifts, and she was just going to have to deal with it. "Do you think there's anything that I can do to compensate for just not being good enough?"

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"First thing. Forget about not bein' 'good enough'." Dec frowned at her under his Raybans. "You did damn well yesterday. You thought on your feet and you lasted about 2 minutes longer than anyone thought you might." The sergeant smiled faintly. "You also kept me together after that." he told her more gently.

"Training's the only way you can learn to get better. You've got the right brain and most of the right instincts. Now we just need to focus them right and get your body up to speed." He pushed and twisted, watching her move to counter. "Those will happen pretty much at the same speed."

He watched her absorb that, then continued. "It's mostly about attitude. Everyone's afraid of somethin'. When I was a man... When I was normal, I could face down anything I was afraid of, usually by being cussed-minded. Now I've got something I'm frightened of that's a bit harder to deal with." He stepped back, forcing Olivia to step closer, then grinned as he reversed direction and pushed both hands at her. She stumbled briefly, but recovered, shooting him a mock-scowl. "Training helps with that attitude. And there's something my uncle once showed me that might help too. But we'll get to that if we need to."

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Gah, she hated training so much. It made her feel inadequite, imbalanced and clumsy. Her hands still 'sticking' she tried to match the movements, and was a little gratified to find that it was coming easier today. She was almost getting it, though in truth that would be a little longer in coming. Still, it was enough to bring a delighted little smile to her face.

His explanation and assurances removed that smile as she listened somberly. "Ok," she said, not sure she believed him. After all, training would never allow her to fly, or any of the really cool things she'd heard about the other Specialists doing. "About yesterday..." As Declan tensed, no doubt expecting some feminine probing into his feelings or some bullshit like that, Olivia said, "why didn't you move after shooting at Jones? Surely you saw that I could see where the shoot was coming from? I mean, I probably would have moved, so why didn't you?"

Her dark eyes, so full of intelligence, locked with his through the glasses. She was truly puzzled and really wanted to know why her plan had worked as well as it had.

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"I wanted to see how you would react. Most people when they know it's not for real have no trouble with exercises like that. But how a person reacts when they have every reason to believe it's real danger lets the guy training them know how much work they have to do. Major Caine and Gwyn I'm pretty sure wouldn't panic. You I wasn't so sure about." His voice was matter of fact as he stepped to one side, crossing his arms in a wide spinning circle that Olivia needed to step closer to keep contact with. He flashed her a grin, lowering his head slightly to wink approvingly at her over the shades as she kept pace, even as he sped up some more.

"You passed, by the way. You kept your head, even though you were piss-scared. You've GOT the most important thing, Doc." Dec told her earnestly. "You didn't freeze and hope I'd go away. You didn't run like a panicked rabbit. You were smart. Anyone can be smart at a desk or in a training hall. You were smart while in what technical military jargon calls 'The Shit'."

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His words floored her a little. Olivia had never been the one to react well in a tense situation. She always felt the need to think about what was happening, and by the time she'd decided what to do, the time to act was over. So why hadn't she this time?

,,

She thought back, her body falling into automatic movements as she reviewed what had happened. Her stomach churned as the sensations roared back: the pain of being dropped by the falling Jones; the sound his knees had made as they had impacted the soil; the jolt of pure terror; then the mind-numbing-

,,

No. It hadn't been mind-numbing. There had been a moment of shock and then she'd started to think. She ran back through her thought processes, trying to gauge the time it had taken her to think to the first course of action, and found it to be in the seconds. She not only thought better she thought faster. Declan's words of praise finally sunk in, and finally felt as though she'd earned them.

A brilliant grin crossed her face as excitement mingled with pride. "I guess I did," she said, fighting the impulse to hug him - not because he'd given her a good compliment, but because she was really happy at the moment, and she loved hugging people when she was in that mood. She restrained herself; military protocol and all that. It was training time, anyway, not hugging time.

,,

She absorbed that praise for a moment, then her grin became mischievous. "How much longer are we going to do sticky hands?" she asked, her voice deceptively bland as she added, "Because as much as I enjoy 'dancing' with you, Sargent, I think there's more to hand-to-hand combat than this."

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Jesus crappin' Christ thats a welcome sight. Dec thought to himself as the radiant smile broke over Oliva's features. He grinned himself as she asked her next question, dark eyes alight with mischief and a little impatience.

"Yup, you're right. Glad you got there, Doc. When the student is ready, the master will teach, and all that." He broke hand contact with her and stepped back, nodding slightly. "We'll keep the dance motif a little, though, for the formal martial arts training. You remember the style you saw me use against Specialist Kyria in the gym a few days ago? That's what I'm going to teach you. It's called Ba Gua, or Eight Trigram Boxing." He dropped into a slow, catlike walk, stepping delicately in a tight circle. His hands came up in a graceful and deceptively slow movement as he started to move clockwise, then widdershins that focal point, changing directions in seamless flowing motions that defied prediction.

"It uses internal power, breath control and balance to defend and attack. It's a good style for anyone, but particularly someone who can't rely on meeting force with force." He said as he demonstrated, his hands making circular movements with open palms that would direct an attack to the sides, down or up, leaving the opponent open for a counterattack. "You'll move in perfect balance, like so, adapting and changing to meet a change in circumstances, like a new opponent..." his focal point changed with blurring speed as he started treading a different circle, "...or even multiple opponents." Now the dance was truly dizzying, focal points for his circular movements springing up, each move leading into a different point. Olivia watched wide-eyed for a few moments before Perault stopped, facing her.

"The practical part of this in the early stages is that it'll get you focussed on the now. What you're doing at that moment becomes the focus. It'll also ingrain the principles of avoidance, deception and deflection to your thought processes, which'll carry over into other aspects of combat out there, I hope." He moved over to stand in front of her, easily within her arms reach.

"I'll also give you a standard Ranger crash course in quickly immobilising or putting down an opponent: in short, fighting dirty and mean. You got a big advantage there, Doc. You're a pretty woman and guys tend to want and expect them to cower in fear when attacked. You keep your head like you did in that ambush and it'll be the guys pissin' themselves." He grinned at her, then took her right hand in his and made it into a tight fist, showing her how to lock her wrist right when throwing a punch to prevent spraining it.

"When you're in it to win it, remember the key areas." He started tapping areas of his body. "Eyes, throat, solar plexus, groin. No rules, no worrying about the other guy. They'll want to get close to you if they think your helpless, so you wait for that then strike when they can't see past how big an' manly they are. You use fists, knees, elbows, hell even your head." He tapped the crown of Livy's head gently. "That there is the hardest part of your skull, and anything hard is a weapon you can use to hit something soft and breakable on the other guy."

"Okay. Let's get you punching right. Just aim for wherever you like on me and go for it. Really go for it." He smiled at her. "I want to see that Olivia Jenings-Izumi who cussed out some Airmen for her teammate and thought fast under pressure. That's one fiery lady. Wind 'em up and let 'em fly." He raised his hands defensively, ready to catch or deflect.

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Olivia watched with wide eyes as Declan danced around her in beautiful formations. I will never be able to do that, she thought, then forced herself to say, I am learning to do that. She listened intently to what he said, storing it away for future reference. She'd review it later when she needed to practice.

Her attention was undivided until he took her right hand in his, and a tingle of electricity shot down her spine. Whoa! Down, girl. Teammate. Very much a teammate.

How long has it been?

Doesn't matter.

How long? Shaun?

I can't think about this anymore, she thought desperately.

And then she wasn't. As the Sargent waited for her to throw a punch, she was marveling at her ability to boss her own brain around. "Sorry," she said, "just thought about something. I'm ready."

Drawing back her arm, she rammed her fist forward with all the force of her arm. Her fist made a slapping noise against Declan's hand. She didn't use her hips or shoulders; a beginner's punch. But like most things she did, she tried her best. "How's that?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Lousy. In fact, you punch like a girl." His grin took the sting out of his words. "Here..." And he moved to her side, hands on her shoulders and waist showing her how to twist into the punch. A few repeats later, and the smack of her fist in his palm was much more impressive, and she'd started using her off-hand too, trying it out.

"Now when you're feinting, feeling out your opponent, you'll want to keep the attacks swift: strike, spring back, never overextending, never fully committing until you're sure the enemy is wide open. When you're really striking to finish the fight, remember to adjust the follow-through. See my palm here?" he asked. Livy nodded. "Aim at a point a few inches past the target. Like you're trying to drive straight through the palm. A lot of people think that the target is the surface of the opponent's body and they strike accordingly. It's not. It's inside or, in the case of you really wanting to put them down hard, past the body. Your muscles will adjust to put more momentum into the punch or kick, trying to reach the more distant point."

She hit out a few more times, the punches coming with greater force as she aimed beyond his hand. Once she overcompensated and tensed her muscles so hard that she wavered, but Livy didn't make the same mistake twice. Dec nodded approvingly. "Nice, Doc. Remember to keep that wrist locked right when you really slug someone: I've seen even tough guys sprain themselves gettin' sloppy."

"Now: footwork." He started to bounce from foot to foot like a boxer. "There's a reason you see guys in boxing matches and in some martial arts movies doin' this, and it's not to impress the ladies with their dancin' skills. Movement equals greater momentum for the strikes as well as helpin' you get outta the way. It's the same as fightin' in a battle as a light infantryman: keep mobile, don't let them see where you're comin' from, and stay outta the way of their nastiest strikes. Okay Doc, get skippin', and let's see you work that into some punches. Move around me some, and feel the strike come up from your toes and heels, through the hips and shoulders, and out down the arm." He smiled encouragingly and held up both palms for her as he started to step in a tight circle, forcing her to dance around him.

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It was harder than she thought it would be, remembering to move her feet and keep her fists up and to throw her hips and shoulders into it. She felt so clumsy, and it was somehow worse when Declan was behind her. There was still that odd distance in her mind, and though the erotic pressure was there, it kept her mind on the business of the moment and off thoughts of how long it had been since she'd been laid.

But as the session progressed, she became aware of how much harder her punches connected. She could feel the power snap up her body to be released into her impacting fist. Her short self-defense class had taught her some things like this, but they hadn't had the time to really go over it in the class. She was supposed to practice at home, but it'd felt so awkward and uncomfortable that she'd never been sure she'd gotten now. Now, one-on-one with Declan, he corrected her carefully, and when she said it didn't feel right, he worked to figure out why. Before too long, she was bouncing on her toes and enthuasitically plummelling his palms.

When Declan lowered his hands and stopped, Olivia was panting but grinning. "That wasn't so bad," she said, dropping her hands. "But we're still in the easy stuff, right?"

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"Well, yeah. But you have to start with the foundations." Dec gave her a crooked smile. "Believe me, in a few days time you'll be begging to come back to this." He moved away from her and slowly adopted the first Ba Gua stance: left hand up and out, palm sideways towards her, the right hand tucked in close to his chest, cocked. "Let's get back to the dancin'. Let's see you take this stance." He watched as she made the attempt, then nodded and came over, analysing her posture for errors. "Drop your hips some, make the back straighter. It might feel weird at first but you'll actually be better balanced." His hands quickly and gently helped her find the right centre of gravity, correcting the tilt of her right hand and the angle of her palm. "It'll seem very formal, very stiff to begin with. But your energy'll flow better and faster. Little ol' Chinese guys have been doin' this for exercise and self-defense for ages. It kinda refines all the stuff we've covered so far: momentum, balance, being able to feel your own body as it moves through space."

He took up his own posture alongside her. "Now when yer doin' this, you breathe from deep down, right under the diaphragm. It's meditative, internal breathin', in slow and out slow." He watched as Livy tried it out and smiled. "Let's dance a little."

He spent the next half hour taking her through the first form, showing her the steps and having her copy him before going back over and explaining the purpose of them. The motions were slow and steady, like a Tai Chi demonstration as the two stepped, dipped, swayed and changed direction around their single point of focus, the imaginary opponent, their arms moving in blocking patterns, changing hands and now and then striking out into space. Towards the end they sped up, Livy's eyes narrowed as she concentrated on her breathing, the steps of the form, the motions of her hands and the occasional calm reminder of something she was missing or confirmation that she'd got it from her instructor.

Finally Dec called a halt and put them both through some light stretches to warm down, somewhat to Livy's relief as she stretched muscles still tired from yesterday.

"Well." Declan smiled at her. "You did pretty good. Think you can keep this up?"

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Olivia looked up from her stretch at him, and her gaze was serious as she told him, "I have to keep up, Sargeant. I want this, I want to go through the StarGate and see the universe. And being able to keep up with my training and my team is part of that. So, yes, I'll keep it up, even when I'm not sure I can."

She sighed and added, "I know that my background hasn't prepared me for this, at all. But I'm going to do it." She smiled at him. "I'm just lucky to have a good trainer like you to get me up to speed. You've made my Christmas card list, just so you know."

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He grinned faintly. "Hope I'm still on it by the time Christmas rolls around." he joked. "Okay, hit the showers then we'll get some range practice in. I know you probably hate the very idea of guns, but they're like any other piece of equipment. Better to have and not need than need and not have. And if you do need 'em, you damn well better be at least competent with them."

He helped Livy to her feet. "The Major will probably issue you with a Zat or stun gun, but that's a situational variable." It was odd how his vocabulary seemed to expand and his intelligence showed a little more when discussing military matters. Somewhere under the simple exterior was a very keen mind peering out, Livy realised. "My job is to teach you to use whatever you have at hand when matters go to hell, and that might not always be something non-lethal."

His tone was matter-of-fact, but not callously so as he smiled at her. "See you in about thirty at the range, Doc."

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Olivia nodded nervously. She didn't like guns because to her, they were dangerous to the wielder. She didn't care for knives either, but they had a certain comforting point-and-click feeling. It was hard for a knife to misfire and shoot molten projectiles.

She'd had some firearms training, so she wasn't a total loser with them. She'd been good enough to pass basic inspection at Area 51. But proficiency wasn't good enough, not here, and so she was willing to get better.

She hurried through her shower and put on clean BDUs. She was back at the range in twenty-seven minutes, her wet hair hanging around her face as she eyed the targets at the end of the lanes.

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Declan was already there a couple minutes ahead of her, his own damp hair testament to his hasty shower as he stood talking quietly to the range master. He'd checked out two of each of the standard-issue weapons that the SG troops used - a 9mm pistol, the P-90 SMG and the Steyr AUG rifle. He turned and looked over at Olivia as she entered and waved her over.

As she arrived, he passed her some tinted goggles and ear protectors. "Here. Put these on when we get to the shooting part. In the field you won't have 'em, but here on the range safety is king." He picked up the Beretta pistol. "First, though, we're goin' to show you how these things work. If you know how it works, it's less frightenin'. It also means you can deal with minor problems like jams and dirty mechanisms. Your memory's goin' to be useful here: unlike me when I was a dumb grunt, you won't need a sergeant yellin' at you from two feet away to remember this." He grinned at her.

"Pick up the other one and copy me. We'll run through it slowly at first. First rule, always check a gun when you pick it up or when someone hands it to you. It could be loaded, the safety could be off, or it might be unloaded and you might grab it, try to use it, and end up lookin' and feelin' stupid." With that, and with Livy memorising his demonstration he slowly field-stripped the pistol, showing her the different parts of the mechanism and teaching her their importance. Then he reversed the process, reassembling the gun piece by piece under her watchful dark gaze, letting her see exactly how his hands fit the pieces together until the sleek black shape was once more in one piece, slide locked back. He inserted a clip, let the slide click forwards, and clicked the safety to 'ON'.

"Okay. Your turn, Doc. We'll do it a few times over until you get used to it."

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Olivia was really hesitant to even touch the guns, but this was something she needed. She took the glasses and ear protection reluctantly, though she was willing to concede that there safety was necessary when dealing with guns. She rubbed her hands nervously down her pants, but her interest was peaked when Declan told her that some part of it would be easier for her than it was for him. She leaned in, her sharp eyes latched on the gun and his hand as the process was revealed to her. When he handed her the gun, she took it without hesitation.

Her thumb caught the safety and snapped it off, then back on. The clip came out and she was off, her hands working rapidly and without hesitation. Soon, the pistol was in pieces. She paused long enough for him to see that it was completely dismantled, then she was back to work, putting it back together without mistake or hesitation. "Done," she said happily, beaming up at him.

"Again," he said, smiling a little at her.

Olivia's expression became smug as she repeated the process flawlessly, then again at his bequest. On the fourth attempt, she put a faux-bored look on her face and began to dismantle the gun with her eyes closed. She remembered where each piece was placed exactly, and when she began to reassemble it, she flawlessly plucked them up and reassembled it - until the trigger. Frowning, she spread her fingers a little wider - she could feel all the other remaining pieces, and she hadn't heard it fall.

She smiled ruefully and opened her eyes, holding her hand out to Declan. "Lesson learned, Sargeant," she said softly, her voice humble. "We're not playing games." Her eyes were anything but humble, however.

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His wide grin was still a strange sight to her in the usually dour face as he dropped the trigger into Olivia's hand, and he had to repress a laugh at the look in her eye. Even so, the chuckle was in his voice as he spoke. "Told ya you'd be better than me at that." His grin became a warm smile as she, not taking her eyes off his shades, swiftly and surely put the rest of the gun together, inserted the clip, and safed it before setting it down. "Doin' good, Doc. The pistol is your backup, for the most part. Sometimes it'll be your first choice, due to concealability and the fact it's more easily silenced. Okay. Now this little guy."

He scooped up the P90. "This is a submachinegun. Most use basically pistol rounds, though this ain't a nine-mil like the Beretta. It's lighter than the average SMG, bein' a 5.7 mil cartridge, the idea bein' that it penetrates body armor better. The big advantage is rate of fire - you don't usually bother firin' single shots with this." He showed her how to break it down for cleaning and reassemble it. "You'll use this baby at pistol range or slightly more than, and you'll use burst fire most of the time." He went on as Olivia started to break it down herself. He nodded approvingly: the Doc was a fucking fast learner. Of course, knowing the weapon wasn't worth shit if she couldn't aim it and, more importantly, pull the trigger. He let her get used to the P90, breaking it down and reassembling it a couple of times before he picked up the last weapon.

"This is a Steyr AUG rifle. I'll say this for the Air Force: they get some nice toys: dirt-resistant, impact-resistant, next-to-never jams and takes a 5.56 rifle cartridge. Single shot or burst fire, and compact." He explained as his hands started to break it down. "The rifle is a standard infantryman's weapon, and is designed to take care of people on average about 200 metres out. Much more than that and you're in sniper territory, so I wouldn't worry about that." He finished disassembling then reassembling the rifle, then handed the bulkier weapon to Olivia to have a go with.

"Get familiar with it, then we'll get you shootin'." he told her, settling back to watch the Doc at work.

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With the confidence that she'd gotten from handling the pistols, Olivia broke down the P90, then reassembled it. She repeated this without goofing around or showing off until Declan nodded his approval. Moving on to the Steyr, she tore it down, absorbing everything Declan told her about it until he told her to stop.

"Ready to move on?" he asked.

"Can I try something?" she asked, in part to put off the shooting part and in part because she wanted test herself.

"Sure," he said, curiosity in his eyes and the tilt of his head.

"Cool." Olivia hoped that she wasn't about to break a couple of guns. Picking up the P90, she broke it down, then turned to the Steyr and broke it down, intermingling the pieces. She felt Declan's amusement and interest as she broke down the Beretta last. And then the test began.

She picked up the Steyr and connected a piece, then set it aside and put two pieces of the Beretta together. She did the same to the P90, then moved back to click another piece to the Beretta. Back and forth she went, hesitating only seconds before identifying a piece and snapping it into place. When the Beretta, with the fewest parts, was done, she handed it to Declan to check out. She continued until all three guns were done, handing each to Declan to be checked. "No pieces left," she said simply. "I think I got it right."

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Her reaction was a low, appreciative whistle as Dec checked the actions of the three weapons, peering over his shades at her. One killer's eye winked as he smiled. "Y'know, we could put you up against a few of the hotshot troops around here usin' this as a contest. Good way to make beer money." He grinned at her, then gathered up the guns and took them over to the range aisles.

Setting the guns down neatly, he set up a humanoid silhouette target and cranked it downrange about 25 feet. "Goggles and ear protectors on, Doc." he told her as he chambered a round into the Beretta, and made sure it was safe.

"There's all sorts of stances and tricks to shooting a pistol accurately at ranges over 30 feet. But most cops and soldiers will tell you that a pistol fight, and an SMG fight, will happen at a shorter range than that. So we'll start with what's considered the most natural way to shoot a pistol: the Point stance." Dec laid the gun down on the counter in front of him and cupped his hands together, crouching over slightly in a boxer's style stance, arms level with his shoulders and pointing his right index finger downrange. "Instead of usin' the gun's sights, you face the target head-on then point your gun like a finger. It soaks up the recoil nicely from multiple shots, and keep you balanced so you can move fast. It's useless for target shootin', but you'll be able to get a bullet where you want it to go at roughly 25 feet, no problem. We'll start you off on that because it's practical and doesn't need you to waste time aimin'. Give it a try."

He put her through the motions of dropping into the stance and bringing her finger up to point at the target several times over, before handing her the safed weapon. He nodded approvingly as she checked it, then clicked the safety off before dropping into the shooting stance. "Just point at the upper chest. A round there will drop a guy just fine. Even if he's wearing a vest, it'll still knock him on his ass. Shoot the whole clip off: I want you to do one shot every two seconds to start with. And keep your eyes open and on the target - they're no good closed."

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Olivia grinned as his assessment. "Well," she said with a smile, "I'd be willing to try. If nothing else, so that I see the looks on some Airmens' faces." Yeah, it was a little vindictive, but she'd put up with civvie jokes for a while now; time to show the Airmen what a civvie could do. Though that would be a civvie Specialist, so it might not count to them.

She shrugged the thought away. Time for other things, harder things. Declan's instructions were good though, and Olivia wondered just how much he was tailoring this for her. She certainly felt more comfortable now than she'd felt in her previous class. She took the stance, looked at where she was pointing, and squeezed the trigger.

The first shot was too loud and jerked, as always, and Olivia almost stopped between the first and second shot to carefully aim. Declan's softly-cleared throat reminded her of what she was supposed to be doing and she quickly shot again. When the slide remained open and the bullets stopped coming, Olivia lowered the gun and considered how she's done. It was better than she'd expected, or had done previously. The fifteen bullets were all in the sheet of paper and most of them were in the meat of torso. They weren't fatal shots, but all of them together would probably put a man in a world of hurt.

Looking rueful, Olivia peeked up at Declan, unaware of the cutely pensive expression on her face as she awaited his verdict.

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"Not bad." He said with a nod. "You weren't takin' time to aim, and you didn't miss." He took the pistol with a small smile and inserted a fresh clip. "I'm going to show you somethin' else now, another stance. This one's called the Weaver." He stood straighter, the pistol held at shoulder level, his head lowered so his eyes were level with the pistol's sights. "This one is what most cops use, and helps with the accuracy. With practice, it's only a little harder than the Point. Notice the arms are steady, the left hand actin' as a cushion for the right and the left elbow down. It's a much more stable shootin' stance, and if you get good you can come right up into it from a draw. It just takes longer to perfect, is all." He lowered the gun and smiled at her.

"Mind, you're probably a faster learner than most. So let's get you on the right path here." He passed the safed pistol to Olivia, then stepped close and gently showed her how to stand, his hands and feet nudging hers into position.

"A little more there... move the left hand a little lower... Right foot more to the side. There." He stepped away with a smile. "Try relaxin' and standing normally, then bringin' the gun up into that stance fast a few times." He watched her carefully as she did so, nodding or shaking his head where appropriate. When he felt she was ready, the Sgt set up another paper target for her, folding the first one up and setting it to one side.

"Okay. Give it a try." He motioned to the 25 feet-distant target.

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This wasn't so hard. It was just a matter of having knowledge, Olivia decided. There were rules for doing this, just like there were rules for driving and writing. You just had to know the rules to meet a certain level of proficiency, and then some natural talent for each level after that. And while Olivia wasn't sure she had that much proficiency, she was willing to practice and to try.

Once again, she emptied the clip, this time with a bit more ease. She did about the same as before, which was a good sign: it implied a certain consistency in her skill. She would have killed someone with those shots, but one of them alone might not have done it. She glanced up at Declan, comfortable enough with him to expect that he wouldn't laugh at her now. "Are there any more stances to learn?" she asked. For the first time since coming to the range, she seemed to be taking a real interest in what he was teaching. She'd been learning because she had to; now, he saw the fires of real interest in her eyes.

Click to reveal..
Olivia's firearms roll: 2 sux

1d10=8, 1d10=4, 1d10=6, 1d10=10

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Her answer was a slow nod as he scrutinised her, then the cluster of shots. "One in the shoulder, one close-ish to the centerline. No misses. Overall, not bad." He set up another target, setting the old one aside with the first. "Keep these for a week or two, label them by date, and measure your progress. There's other pistol stances, but they're competition stuff for longer-range shooting for the most part. The Weaver and the Point is what I want you to work on for now." He gave her a slight smile. "Once you're good with those, we'll work on gettin' you onto SG21's pistol team."

He set a box of pistol ammo to one side in front of her. "You've got more homework, Doc. Every day you ain't in the field, you come down here. I want ten clips of nine-mil out of you: that's 150 rounds of pistol every day. You change targets every clip, and keep them labeled like I asked you to." He took her hand and had her grip his wrist hard, then nodded to himself. "Get yourself a racquetball or somethin' similar and squeeze it when you ain't usin' your hands for anything. 100 squeezes with each hand a day for the first two weeks, then go up to 200. Spread 'em out into lots of 20 or 40 if you want to, but try to do them all." He peered at her over his shades. "It's gonna be uncomfortable, and you're gonna be sore. But shootin' and close-combat need good hand and wrist strength. It'll help the tendons in your arms and shoulders too." he told her quietly.

"Let's move onto the P90 for now. Load it up and get ready." He set up another target while Olivia moved to obey, studying the Doc as she competently slid the magazine into place, cocked and safed the P90. "Nice. Y'know, the hardest part about teachin' grunts is gettin' them to remember which way to point the gun." He grinned. "You ain't got a problem there." He finished moving the target down to about 30 feet.

"Alright. Snug that baby against your shoulder there, and use the sling around your neck and shoulders to get some support. We'll start with single shots. Give me three on the target to get you used to the action. Then flick to burst and give me three 3-round bursts. Most of the kick will be back into your shoulder, but there'll be some upward and sideways motion too. Don't try to anticipate and compensate for that: it's a rookie mistake. By the time the muzzle starts to move from a short burst, the bullets will already have left." He stepped behind her, gently helping her to get the SMG situated right, then tapped her on the shoulder. "Go get 'em."

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The single shots were easy enough, and it did let Olivia get a feel for the greater power of the P90. She did worse than before, but she’d used nine-mils before. This had the added issue of lack of familiarity.

Click to reveal..
Olivia’s Firearms: 1 sux

1d10=8, 1d10=5, 1d10=2, 1d10=4

After her three single bursts, she flipped over to burst. This was the part she was going to hate. Olivia took a deep breath, sighted as he’d said and squeezed the trigger. The violent jerk of the gun was accompanied by the roar of the P90 and the rattle of casings. Olivia stopped, startled despite being ready for it. It was far louder than she’d thought it would be, and her shoulder was just starting to express some displeasure at this activity.

“You ok?” Declan asked, glancing down at her.

Olivia nodded, returned to her position and opened fire again. Unlike some, she didn’t enjoy the power of it; it was nerve-racking to her hippy-like sensibilities. But she knew that she had to do this and she pressed the P90 back to her shoulder. She emptied the clip in bursts, her teeth clenched the entire time. The bursts did their job; she did a bit better.

Click to reveal..
Olivia’s Firearms: 2 sux

1d10=2, 1d10=10, 1d10=5, 1d10=8

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