On Target Gun Range and Store

More than surprised at the man's laugh, and apparent kindness, all of the tension drained out of Gerrit's body. He followed the man to the table, excitement welling up in his chest. He was about to sit down opposite Issac when the man asked his question. Funny thing, Gerrit thought, since both he and Issac sounded fairly Terran. "Terran, mate. Wing City, all my life. First time leaving it in fact."

Sad but true, at 32 he'd never left home. Never been able to afford to, or had a good reason. Always someone in his life to tell him not to.

He watched intently as Issac dismantled his pistol, amazed at how deft and flawlessly the man did it. He pulled his own side-arm out and tried to match what his "instructor" had done, getting a fair amount of the large pieces out without too much trouble. "You know, someday I hope to be a marksmen, a real one. In fact I do hope to buy some sort'a rifle before I leave. Just figured best to learn with what I got first, right?" He chuckled a little while fumbling with the smaller pieces, his large, rough hands not wanting to work delicately. "I'll be payin' for ammo too. ain't never taken charity in my life, no need to start, eh? Although I appreciate the kindness."

The gun was..Mostly dissembled by the time he stopped talking. Some pieces Gerrit simply couldn't get out right, others seemed to be..Missing. The poor thing was in horrible shape, the spring alone was pure rust, but was likely able to get back into place properly. Gerrit just smiled though, happy with his "handy-work", and happy to be around the first person who didn't call him an idiot for wanting to pump assholes full of lead, and make a difference in the universe.

"I'm quick enough learner with my hands, I've been told. But..Damn if this thing ain't missin' a bunch'a part."

Sway pins go left to right... No.. hold the retaining springs in before you push the trigger bar out of place. Oi this chap was gonna be some work. Scanning over the weapon he decided the pistol would be easier to fix first. The old cyborg listened to the young man as his mind started trouble shooting the poor excuse for a weapon.

" Nothing that can't be fixed. You've got the important bits. Do you have a cleaning kit?" He asked twisting in his seat to take one off the wall.

The kit was simple, a bit of brass tubes and some brushes, oil, solvent, and rags.
Watching the young man's hands he noticed the tell tale marks of physical labor, the tattoo's and attire suggested construction as his occupation.
" Nah first box is on me, tis a policy with new customers, we can see about gettin; you set on a rifle here in a bit if you'd like, but I agree your carry weapon should be your primary concern." He said setting a second kit in front of the young man. " Class room aid." He explained , sliding the kit to the gentlemen.

" You work in construction?" he asked taking an oiled rag and coating the already coated pieces of weapon for--- come to think of it Issac haddn't gotten a name from the lad yet.

Gerrit was not pleased about this "free box" deal, he figured it was just Issac's way of being polite. Any other time he'd continue to refuse, but he didn't want to offend the man. Not to mention Issac seemed more stubborn than him, so why fight a losing battle. He poked through the kit, watching his instructor intently before snapping up a few other pieces and oiling them down himself.

His anxiety about his lack of knowledge was coming back, but Issac didn't seem to mind, in fact the guy was even making small talk.

"Yeah.", he huffed, in his gruff voice. It wasn't a huff of anger, more of defeat. "All my damn life, it seems. I'd imagine you know how Wing City is, torn down and built up daily. Everybody always told me I was good with my hands, and nothin' else.", his voice had a tinge of sadness in it. He wasn't a particularly smart man, he knew this, and accepted it. He'd never be a scholar, or a novelist, or a scientist, or a wizard, unlike the people he grew up with. He'd been told all his life knocking down walls was the best he could hope for, but not anymore.

Ever since he found the old pistol he'd been saving, plotting, hoping. This was him making a dream come true. He'd be somebody even if it killed him.

"Still, you sound Terran enough, where you from, if you don't mind me asking?", he looked up from the spring he was coating, chuckling a little. "Forgot my manners, too. Names' Gerrit."

" Funny enough I'm from Earth, but I've been on Terra long enough to say I'm from here. The whole if you replace 51% of the boat stick." He answered, as he ran a brush through the barrel of his already clean weapon four or five times.
Stuck in a situation, where there seemed no end. So this young lad chose of all things a gun? Now don't get me twisted a weapon is as fine as anything, but to build your life around...? Issac knew all to well how that ended, but he also knew that some times the only thing that made sense was recoil, and cover...

For a moment Issac just cleaned his weapon, the mans spout of conversation just washed over him, He was laying in the desert again, biting flies gnawed at his back as he watched his target pull up half a mile away....

" Nice to meet you Gerrit, I'm Issac." He said sounded a little distant, it could have been confused a sympathy tho, or understanding.

" Alright after we get it the rags running through that barrel clean, the extractor cleaned and working, and the trigger bar moving freely we can put that back together. We'll go over basic manual of arms and range commands, followed by some class room style shooting instruction. If that's alright with you that is." he asked looking up at the youth expectantly.

Gerrit nodded, picking up his shameful barrel and starting to clean it, replicating Issac's technique as best he could. "It's fine with me, sir. Need all the learnin' I can get. I don't aim to die on some outer world with angry raiders divvying my gear before I'm cold." Funny enough, the gun maintenance felt right to him. Something about it, mundane, simple, the kind of thing he could see himself tuning out from once he knew what ti was doing. It had a rhythm, a simple one, but he was starting to feel it, just like his own pulse.

He still wasn't sure why he attached to this gun the way he did, to being a merc or a bounty hunter, but he did.

Maybe it was simply the only way someone like him could really see the stars. Much like Issac, he began to drift, remembering being a kid, laying on a hill outside of a smaller version of Wing City. He loved to stargaze back then, as teen everyone he knew was full of wonder, teachers and parents telling them they could do anything. He didn't get that. Mom was sick, and Dad's back was giving out. He had to step in and fill the old man's shoes for a paycheck soon, but out on that hill? He felt like he could touch the stars. He could see himself has a galactic hero, going from battle to battle, with medal after metal.

His late teens, and early twenties saw that dream die off though. No time for hills, or stars, or shooting at hellish aliens in space, not when he had to spend every moment figuring out how to keep the lights on.

That day in the rubble though, finding that gun. It felt heavy too him, heavier than anything so small should've been, but it felt like a ton of bricks. Like the whole world was in his hands. Anyone could make a living out there, among the stars. Anyone who could fire a gun, and take some scum-sucking Warlord or Raider out. Anyone who could drive back an Aschen squad. Anyone could make a difference with a bit of cold steel and training.

"I bet it seems weird..", he finally broke the easy silence that had set in over the table. "Wantin' to go and fight lord-knows-where, killin' people, even if it's just bad people, for a meal. I've see more invasions and death than I'd care to count though..", he paused for a moment, gingerly putting his barrel down and moving onto the next big piece. "I've always been helpless, too. No armor, no lasers, no swords, not a god. Day I found this rusted out piece, though..", he leaned in, eyeing the piece top to bottom as he gently coated every centimeter of it.

"I finally realized. Anybody can make a difference with the right tools, and know-how. Takin' down and puttin' buildings up didn't save anybody, but being out there..Taking down the kinda people that just want to come and kill the innocent. That could save a life, and all I needed was a box of bullets."

Elanna offered Isaac a nod as she turned to face her target. She knew paper targets would be disintegrated by the disruptor blast, so she chose to use targets she purchased back in the Empire. They were made from a rubber-ceramic like material, dissipating most of the residual heat and leaving only the center penetration of the actual bolt.

Chemicals in the target would change from white to bright orange when exposed to intense heat as well, marking where the bolt had struck.

By the time Gerrit and Isaac were deep in conversation concerning his weapon and the fate of Wing City, the deafening crack of Aschen weapons fire filled the store.

Again it sounded off, and again, and again. Pop, crack, pop.

Elanna was firing Winona, sending searing hot beams of green downrange.

Red eyes watched impassively and seemingly unphased by the weapons others used, her ears rang with each shot but then the moments of hearing loss werent long, maybe lasting a minute to a minute and a half or so before hearing ability returned to full strength antyhow thanksto what she was. Rapid healing was on e of the perks of being the daughter of a famed killer.

But then so too were threats to one self, which was why she constantly worked on her bow, hell her apartment was a security nightmare alone with dozens of traps everywhere to begin with. But with the sheer amount of firepower she apparently was alowwed to be near or work with given the fact she prefered a bow as quiet as her own...

So she watched from behind a bullet proof andwhatever proof actually, glass at the other people at the range for the time being. She had been away that morning, post office to send something important, hopefully it was where she had hoped it to be, in the hands of who tried to contact her during her nightly sleep... what others might call meditation.

But now she watched the woman firing the energy pistol, well this seemed interesting. The woman was short, shorter then any she had met or come across in her lifetime. Most of the women she had met were about her height. or two meters or thereabouts. Nevertheless her attention went from the woman to the counter where Issac was somehow teaching an older man how to use a weapon ?

Didnt make too much sense yet the woman seemed curious about the man, both men were short compared to her yes, but still. Both men were examining a weapon, she watched, her arms crossed, this was interesting to see. then again Asaca by then was bored, her hand held the grag she asked to drink, a very strange mix of eggnog and moscato wine

The one man who was there seeking help apparently, seemed nervous, wanting to save others ? She heard everything, put bullets in bad guys. I hope he means vampires or other Supernaturals Asaca thought, naturally all pretahumans had the innate hate for supernatural creatures, yet sometimes there was also kindess towards those who provide aid over hate.

But Issac was kind to her and let her use his machine shop to work on her bow; the bow in one hand she went over things, mnentally calculating how many arrows she had fired over the course of that day; and also making a note to speak to the man wanting to put down a baddie or two. So she stepped from behind the safe area she had picked out and moved to where issac and Gerrit were at and simply observed what was going on.

The next few hours of instruction were fairly simple, most explaining how weapons worked. Miss photu had actually joined , and gave Issac a chance to touch on the subject of Auto loading pistols vs revolvers , their pros and cons, and the various situations where one might trump the other. Shooting stance was covered, as well as sight picture and trigger squeeze. All in all Issac thought these two could do with some range time. Range time was pretty simple, a six foot ( 1.8 M) target standing 21 (6.4m) feet away.
He gave both of them 5 target shoot for score, the last target was a full sized photo of someone holding a weapon instead of a plain target, the target looked shockingly real. While they shot, Issac gatherd up his Rifle and case, and simply slung the whole heavy kit across his back.

"Asaca , excellent shooting today, I look forward to making some suggestions for that bow of yours later." he said in passing with a smile.

He turned back to his students.

" Next targets we will be working on defensive drill shooting. I will demonstrate after we finish these rounds. I will score your targets, if you obtain at least a 75% kill rate we will progress, if not, well there are still a good number of hours in the day." He boomed over the gunfire, his voice being easily heard.


After a moment he turned back to his friend Elanna. " Anyhow, I'm glad you've got her working again, what brings you back to this part of the world? " He asked, not bothering to hide his curiosity today.

Gerrit took his stance, blocking out the world around him. Not even Issac's booming voice couldn't reach him in his focus. The target wasn't too far away, but it felt like an impossible golf for Gerrit. The old rustbucket of a gun shook a little in his unsteady hands, the roughed up grips irritating the skin. He took a deep, deep breath and pointed the barely at the first, nearest target.

This would be the sixth time in his life he fired a gun.

Bang

The bullet sailed past the target, ending up gods know where. He'd missed by a damn mile. He thought about giving up right then and there, his nerves returning, but in the end he couldn't. Instead he paused, and did his best to gather himself. This was his dream, this was what he wanted, this was how he became a a war-machine. He raised the pistol again, this time closing one eye and lining the sights up with the target's center of mass.

He knew better than to aim for the head, that's what all rookies did on videos.

His hands still shook, but he inhaled, closing his other eye for a second. When they opened up again, his hands found stability. He was picturing the target as something other than paper. An Aschen, one with a gun, charging right for him. The one that gunned Rex down in cold bold, back in the invasion.

Bang, bang, bang, bang.

He squeezed the trigger four times, steady hands, and in time with his breath. Each round hit the target, although barely at first. The first shot clipped the bottom of the paper, the second a bit higher. The third shot fell where the liver would be on complete accident, and the final just below the heart. He blinked and examined his work. Not bad, he thought, for a total novice anyway.

He really wanted to look over at the other person's aim, but he didn't need the depression. He focused on the task at hand, guiding the sights onto the next target.

Let's do it..Bang...Bang...Bang..

Asaca smiled and nodded to Issac; she remembered when they first met and how things worked out in the long run, the range and store gave her a brief buit of income to pay rent, and also allowed her to work on her bow when she required it, but she could carry her bow in public and nobody dared tell her otherwise. There were a few small problems with her working on it at home which caused her to seek out a place she could work on the bow and not have to pay for it when she barely could pay rent.

At least until she found Issac's gun range and store. The man was nice, and when he saw the conditiomn her bow was in {at the time it was in several dozen peieces and was trying to get it working again} he offered her to use his machine shop for as long as she needed, including a job with just enough pay to pay her rent every month. Asaca agreed to the terms. Anything damaged by her she'd pay for, but any arrows fired she'd try and make sure they could be reused.

Of course carbon steel arrows were not cheap, costing 88R to fire just one of them {that's 12cents american} so whatever she had fired she could find again and checjk their condition to ensure safe usablity for longer periods. Each set of eight the price was put down and whatever she could not reuse she paid for out of her paycheck,

It worked in the short term, it gave her a means tpo pay her rent.

But there was the matter of why she was gone that mornuing and hadnt come into the shop until later that afternoon. Thankfully Issac didnt ask what kept her, normally it was traffic but she had a odd perk to her step as she seemed to be lighter on her feet.

"Shore leave, but tomorrow I have to head to Wing City back to my ship, and then I get another year long deployment in the ass end of Aschen space." Elanna replied, running her finger across Winona's smooth finish, while her eyes passively drifted over to Gerrit. "Looks like you have your handful with that one." Elanna commented, twitching slightly at each pop of his weapon.

"I'm no expert, but he's too nervous, his accuracy is all over the place." She said, before she held Winona out, grip facing Isaac. "Play with Winona for awhile, I'm going to take a crack at our friend here, if you don't mind?" She said, offering a soft smile. "I've trained my fair share of recruits in my time." She said.

Elanna smiled and placed a hand on Isaac's shoulder before she moved over to the firing line, watching as Garrit fired round after round into the targets, she waited for a pause, for him to reload before her soft voice crept into his ear.

"You're flinching, and you're leaning too far back." She said, placing a hand on his back to ease him forward. "Your accuracy is all over the place, you have to hit your enemy before he hits you." She said calmly.

To the casual observer, the woman in the floral sundress looked somewhat out of place, but her toned body betrayed some kind of military background. Her service barcode was tattooed on the inside of her forearm, near her wrist, but otherwise her smooth olive skin lacked much if any indicator of outside exposure.

The slight reddening of her hands were also indicating of extensive energy weapons use, afterall she had been firing Winona not long ago.

"Here." She said, running her arms down his, correcting his grip on the handgun, as she moved the barcode on her wrist was obvious.

"Stop shaking, it'll throw your aim, just focus on your target, and open fire." She said.

He had emptied the mag a little faster than he should've. You watch enough holo-vids, and action movies, and you kind of forget that ammunition is a real, finite thing. He paused for a moment, sliding the magazine out of his ratty 9mm, before scooping up a handful of bullets. The were heavy, well not heavy, but heavier than he expected something so tiny to be. He stared down at them for a moment, realizing just how real it all ways.

Rounds might be finite things, but the people deserving of them in the chest weren't.

He'd just filled the mag, loaded the gun, and had it cocked and ready when the strange woman approached him. He honestly jumped a bit when she touched his back, having been off in his own world it surprised him. His instinct was to whirl around to face who it was, but the sudden helpful advice, and delicate fingers correcting his grip, told him he wasn't in any danger. Of course, he was now five times as nervous.

He wasn't shy around women or anything, it'd just been a long time since he'd been in contact with one. Even on Terra, who wants to date am angry, faceless construction worker? So the whole touching thing just felt out of place, even if she was only trying to help.

"Sorry for jumpin' ma'm," he spoke quickly as her arms met with his, growing all the more uncomfortable. The tattoo caught his attention though. Who gets a bar-code? "Not used to any stranger just comin' up, and puttin' a hand on me. Especially not when I'm holdin' a gun." He carefully aimed at the target, doing his best to focus. "Might wanna cover your ears, ma'm, not a quiet thing, but you know that."

With that he squeezed off four quick shots. The first two of which were sloppy, barely hitting the target at all, while the other two hit just about the waist of the little paper man. A marked improvement.

"Well I'll be fucked, that's a start!", he went tense again for a moment, shaking his head. "Sorry ma'm, for the swearin'. Not polite around a lady, and all. Even on a gun-range."

"You're still flinching." She said, stepping back to allow him to shoot. Noting that his aim was getting better, but she was still making a face, four shots, two barely hitting the target, the other two hitting the man's torso.

Elanna held out her hand and smiled. "Here, watch me closely." She said. "Let me show you what I mean." She said, gesturing for him to hand her the gun. Should he hand her the gun, she would contemplate it for a moment.

She made a face, a slight frown marked by furrowed eyebrows as she tried to recall how Isaac taught her how to wield the weapon. It was no disruptor, but many of the foundations were the same.

"You have to relax, and focus on your target." Elanna said, moving her feet into a stance that was seemingly a mix of both the isosceles and weaver stances. This particular shooting stance was drilled into the soldiers of the Aschen Military, feet shoulder width apart, left foot forward, right foot back, the body bladed slightly, while the arms were forward with the elbows unlocked. A stance that was ideal for the cumbersome Aschen energy weapons, but somewhat awkward with conventional firearms.

She fired once, the round hit dead center mass, she fired again, and again, the second and third round was off by a few inches, by no means was it a tight group, she fired again and again, correcting her aim and catching center mass.

She relaxed slightly, and racked the weapon, ensuring it was empty before passing it back.

"I'm new at this." She admitted. "Not my kind of weapon." She added, placing the cleared pistol on the table. "Try the stance I demonstrated, squeeze the trigger, don't flinch."

He handed the pistol over without hesitation, it was clear she knew what she was doing. He only hoped it didn't break. He watched her closely, noting that she looked almost as lost with it as he did, which made him feel a little better. He also couldn't help but catch just how muscular she was, and the distinct lack of tanning. He wondered about it for a moment, deciding maybe she was some kind of military woman, or a gym instructor, or..Something.

Her stance broke his train of thought though, it was odd, and it reminded him of something. He just couldn't place what.

Still, her grouping was way the hell better than his, so maybe he'd just seen marksmen use it or something. When she was all done he scooped his pistol up, chuckling a bit. "You're new? You can at least hit the target, me on the other hand.." He took the mag out, and began refilling it. "First damn time shooting, really. You know what you're doing, I think I've even seen that stance somewhere before.." Once the gun was all loaded, and racked he went over and attempted the position himself.

His was a poor, clumsy imitation of it, but it still resembled it. Mostly.

He had the target in his sight when he paused, swiveling his head to look at the lady. "You know..If you don't mind me askin' that is, ma'm..I can't help but notice that a sundress is out of place for a shooting range, and I've never seen a proper lady like yourself with an arm tattoo. Much less a bar-code. Where you from?"

"Well.. I'm new to these kinds of weapons." She replied. "I've had extensive training in various energy and magnetic induction weapons, but not conventional chemical firearms. They're somewhat awkward to me." Elanna replied, looking to the rusty gun on the table, while Garrit picked it up.

"Feet shoulder width apart, right foot behind, left foot forward. The recoil will be absorbed much easier that way, your stance will be more stable." She said.

Then the question as to where she was from came about. She had to think on the answer, she knew that there were a lot of people with bad tastes left in their mouths from the previous occupations. Occupations that occurred when Elanna was a commander, serving somewhere in the ass end of the Empire.

She looked down at the bar-code and frowned, the olive skin contrasting against the black ink. Garrit was right in thinking she lacked a tan, especially for a complexion as hers, which could be described as Mediterranean, or even Spanish. If one were to use earth allegories.

"I'm from Langara." She replied simply, staring down at the barcode, but in a way she could keep one eye on the man with the weapon. "More specifically Queenstown, it's a city in the Imperial Province of Picon, very pretty, very warm."

She purposefully omitted the fact she was associated with the Military.

Gerrt's entire being went rigid in an instant. Langara. Now it made sense, now it all made sense. She..It...Was Aschen, and not just. She didn't have to say it, but he knew. He knew she was military. You don't get muscle like that, or weapons training being a merchant, or a janitor. Not even the batshit Aschen could be that militaristic in his mind. The pistol went off, the hand gripping it had reflexively clenched into a fist, ignoring that his finger was on the trigger.

The round harmlessly discharged, hitting the target just below the torso. His best shot of the day.

He was silent, and radiating tension for a moment, but a low, almost rumbling whisper escaped him. "How do you sleep at night..?", the question was soft spoken, almost timid, neither quality common for the large man. It was a fleeting thing though, the calm before the maelstrom. In an instant he whirled around, dropping the gun, and standing up as straight as he could.

He was quite a bit larger than the woman, and easily at least twice her size. No doubt her military training could take him out easily, but he didn't care. He wasn't rational, he wasn't thinking clear.

"What the fuck is a monster like you doing on Terra?", his question was a demanding shout as he took a step closer, rage seething from his voice, fire in his eyes. "What exactly gave you murdering bastards the impression you were welcome here?", another angry growl, another threat. "Are you scumbags so fucking arrogant you think you can just murder, and torture, and burn away a planet, then stroll back in with a smile?" His large, powerful fists unballed, his empty hands reaching out for the wooden table beside the two.

He had to hold something, or else he'd go for her neck. He was always taught not to ever hit a woman no matter what, but this. Thing. Was no woman. It was just a monster with a feminine skin-suit.

His grip on the solid wood tightened to such an extreme it started to splinter under his strength. He may have been just a dumb construction worker, but he was stronger than an oxen. Rage was swallowing him whole. "You killed everyone!", he bellowed, furious glare locking with Elanna's eyes. "You killed Tim, and Rex, and Clane, and Hank.." His body was actually quivering with anger.

"You tortured, and humiliated Dianne, you thugs raped Claire. You burned my best friend alive!" He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't keep it in. With one swift, violent motion he jerked the incredibly heavy table off the ground, flipping it end over end as he threw it about five feet away. Spare ammo tumbled everywhere. There was now nothing between him, and it. Not lunging was a struggle, but he stayed still.

"You are the exact kind of..Monster..", he spat the last word, literally. "That I'm doing all this to learn how to kill.", It was just too much for him. The Aschen..Thing. Touched him. It smiled, and laughed, like it was a person, but it wasn't. It tried to help him, but now that just felt like a mockery. His skin crawled, he felt like he was covered in muck from her touch.

Something in him changed, his glare shifting from pure hatred, to a sort of cold detachment. The kind somebody has when they truly are about to something awful. The stare of a killer."I'm going to put a fucking bullet in ever last one of you genocidal maniacs.", he spoke cooly now, his voice almost monotone, but the raw malice behind it was obvious, and imminence. "You might want to leave, unless you'd like to be my first."

Issac nodded and messed around with the hand gun for a while, he didn't bother firing it as he didn't know a whole hell of a lot about the Aschen weaponry and would have liked some instruction, a tight smile happened upon his lips as she went to help the young man. Likely as not she'd be able to help him, that and it was a good way to pick up more about her character.

Instead of setting the weapon aside the cyborg took it along with him to his shooting lane with his rifle case and began setting the whole rig up again. He was determined to shoot today god damn it. The rifle laid sleeping in a nest of cut foam, the sharp angles and soft curves of the weapon gave off an expensive vibe in and of it's self, the optic setting ontop of it spoke nearly the same.

He couldn't help but ease drop on his guest conversation.... Issac stopped mid action and started to move to intervene ...
He closed the distance with a measured pace, something close to a stalking panther making the last few moments towards an unsuspecting pray, He slide between the two adults easily enough.

Tho he was about the same height as Gerrit Issac met the young man's hate with a calmness that warned of sudden violence.
" Easy now Gerrit. You can't blame miss Elanna for the actions of some. Soldiers do as Soldiers do. If you're upset at her you might as well be upset with myself. I've done my fair share of cruel things and you seem to be in an awful hurry to do the same boy." His tone was as measured as his steps where. An observant man might notice that while Issac hadn't moved his hand towards his weapon, he had set his feet , left about a half step behind, with his hands sitting open about waist high in a non-offensive manner; splayed as if almost cautioning a halt. The fact of the matter was Issac was more than ready to catch a bow from the young man, or restrain him should he make a move for the pistol. He had lived long enough to know what the sort of hate in Gerrits eyes lead to.

The moment Garrit went stiff, was the moment Elanna stood back, five paces to get clear, especially with the discharge of the firearm immediately following.

Military training and years of martial programming overtook the brief moment of shock, but through that brief moment there was clarity. Elanna's mind went from the seemingly feminine, caring woman trying to teach a disadvantaged individual to a hardened killing machine.

Her muscles tensed up, and both arms went up to about chest level, with her left foot slightly forward, right foot slightly back. She was assuming the stance that was ingrained with her CQC training. It was not unlike a boxer's stance, with the rear hand slightly higher than the forward hand, palms open and out, it was clearly a defensive stance, but one where she could react quickly.

"What happened to your friends; what happened to this planet was a travesty that is unforgivable." Elanna replied, her voice cold, careful, but assuring. "It is a travesty that goes against everything we as a people stand for, and those responsible have been made to pay for their atrocities." She added.

She caught Isaac out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her attention focused on Garrit, his hands, his stance, she hardly flinched as the table was thrown over, ammunition clattering in every direction. No she remained quiet, ready to engage and eliminate the threat should he decide to move in.

"But killing me will not bring them back." She protested. "It wouldn't make you any better than the cold blooded bastards who murdered your friends, you and me, we both bleed the same red blood." Elanna said aloud. "We have all been hurt by the actions of a brutal regime, that regime did not represent the interests of my people." She explained.

Though as hatred turned to detatchment, and indifference, Elanna made a subtle nod towards Isaac, the subtle nod that could be picked up by most military types, it was a nonverbal signal, Elanna's right hand also twitched, making a circular motion with her index finger, she was non-verbally instructing Isaac to move slightly adjacent, making a wide 'V' position with Elanna and Isaac facing Garrit, so that they could adequately respond to any escalation.

"Take a deep breath, don't so something you might regret, we can talk this over." Elanna pleaded.

Stepping back into the gun range after sneaking out to run up to the post office in the city not far off Asaca had missed most of the screaming nd yelling however whe nshe returned she saw the man, Gerrit, going against a smaller woman, much smaller woman at that. Oh brother. She knew of the past on this world being so upsetting t omany, lost friends, ruins everywhere. Yet in some areas it was much different. Yet some people held grudges that tend to extend forever.

And she could tell as well that even though the woman was most likely well trained; but even with issac between them Asaca knew trhat things just might not end up the right way. So thinking quckly she called out. "Madam, Do you need some aid ?" Anything to get Elanna out of the crosshairs, perhaps a drink or someone to talk to ? Her voice was soothing, almost like silk. though ith ad a very strange almost supernatural tone to it, like an accent that felt from a different realm entirely.

Asaca only knew the planets history, not its enemies, and honestly for her, if she could make more friends in that area, then by all means she'd so just that! even if it meant sticking her neck out for another and quite possibly unarming another man to do so. But with her two meter height Asaca herself towered over the other woman, hell over the other men too. But she was also scared, mostly because of others finding out what she was and sending word to one who wanted her family dead.

But of course two of that family survived, seven brothers, two daughters. Onhly the daughters survived. But Asaca didnt know that.... yet

though Issac could see an odd almost firelike spark in Asaca's normally dull grayred eyes

Something made her happy

Rage. Despite what people want to believe, what they tell themselves to excuse their actions, and understand others, is actual a very complex emotion. It has a certain duality to it, like a roaring inferno on one hand, violent, and loud, fast, and large, and cold as the sea on the other. The latter is the far more deadly, and frightening, of the two. It doesn't cloud your vision, blind your judgement, or make you rash, and impulsive.

It slows the world around you, provides shocking clarity as your veins turn to ice. It's what can change a man from humble, and honest, to a sociopath.

It was that frightening latter that had swallowed Gerrit up whole. His body was rigid, his posture almost in-humanly perfect, all the fire died out of his eyes. An absolute emotionless void replaced it. He looked like someone in a trance, or someone without a soul. Whatever the case, to humans at least, his appearance would be unnatural, the kind of unnatural that was just wrong. That made people around him uncomfortable.

Hell, maybe the Devil himself had gotten a foothold, who knows. That's what's Gerrit's mom would have said, if she was still alive.

His eyes remained locked on Elanna, narrowing as she adjusted her stance. He was right, military, plain as day. He ignored her empty apologizes, and while he didn't break eye contact he began to pay more attention to Issac. The man must've thought he was rather graceful, but Gerrit could hear him easily. Hard steps, the creaks of joints, his breath. Right now the simple human that was Gerrit was in sensory-overdrive.

"Easy now,"

Gerrit's face, though still hard as stone, creased into a hollow smirk. He let Issac finish his little rant, barely listening. That man, while obviously a soldier, and great marksmen, was wrong. When Issac finally shut up, Gerrit exhaled. "You don't know what you're talking about, Issac." His eyes stayed locked with Elanna. "Cruel? I'm in no rush to do anything cruel. I refuse to do anything cruel. Vampires, demons, bandits, slavers, Aschen..", he spoke the last word with an intense venom. "Those are my targets. Creatures, monsters. Not people. And if you really think being a soldier pardons you for the things you've done..It doesn't."

He finally broke his stare with the Aschen woman, his empty eyes locking with Issac's.

"Soldiers do as soldiers do"? He laughed. "It must be nice, to able to justify doing horrible things by blaming someone else. It must help you sleep at night, to have put yourself in a position where somebody else could decide your morals for you. Tell you what was right, and what wasn't. I had heard great things about you," he turned, walking over to his gun on the ground, and snatching it up, shoving it directly into the holster. He wasn't dumb, he made it obvious he wasn't going to use it. He was outmatched by leagues. "But if that's something you truly believe in, you're a weak coward, who admits to being unable to think for himself."

That was when Asaca spoke up. Her voice was sweet, but her attempts to aid an Aschen just made her sound repulsive to Gerrit.

It was beyond time to leave. He'd learn somewhere else, buy somewhere else. This was a mistake, Terra was the last spot he thought he'd find Aschen apologists, but here they were. He fished in his back pocket, icy eyes once again fixed on Elanna. He produced a credit slip for 2k in Terran, and placed it on the overturned table, mumbling that it was for the damages, ammo, and lesson.

"All three of you can relax. I'm not a smart person, but I'm not suicidal." He walked past the three of them, desiring a shower to get their filth off. "I wouldn't be so thoughtless as to attack someone at a gun range."

Issac simply stared at the flipped table for a moment and set it right with little effort.
"...Range is closed, please take your gear and head out... Thank you all for comming out today, Next time is free of charge. " He said with a lethargic tone before disappearing the same direction as Gerrit. He watched the boy until he left, no sense letting him get the drop on Someone on their way out for what ever misguided reason. Who killed who during what conflict was a petty thing unless you actually saw a person doing it... just blaming it on a group of people didn't accomplish much.. Issac knew this first hand.

After Gerrit left Issac when to the far edge of the shop and unlocked a door leading to a stair case, and then wandered down stairs to his home.

The sound of a hoverboard approaching the exterior gun shop was the only warning on that particular morning. The front door opens to admit the first customer of the day, a young man in his mid-teens with medium length golden hair, a boyish regal face and simple glasses. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a white hoodie, with a hoverboard folded up under his arm.

The boy, who seemed to be looking around expectantly, made his way around the room to look at the many different fire arms and ammunition types. He didn't seem to know what he was looking at as an expression of confusion followed him wherever he went.

Stopping in front of the hand guns the kid yawns from the early morning hour before leaning in to inspect them further. He takes a holo-pad out of his pocket and holds his board in his armpit while he swiped the screen to find a picture of a handgun. He had no idea what the gun was called, but soon enough he found the same one in front of him in the shop.

Comparing the two guns the kid begins reaching for the real one while closing his holo-pad and putting it away in his pocket.

lieutenant Hawk walked into the gun store, sniper rifle in hand. he walked up to the counter looking at the armaments. his HUD flashed the list of what he came here to get. Striding over to a rack and picked up a bottle of gun cleaner and a rag setting that on the counter by the register. he pulled the bolt back on the rifle dropping the clip and setting that on the table.

"I'm Going to need thirty-eight clips of 7.62x51mm USO sniper rounds. I'm also going to need 3 smoke grenades."

" You got an I.D on ya?" Issac asked, his head pocking up from behind a counter not to far from the young man, his guess had been correct, the young man's foot fall had betrayed a good bit about him, his tone really wasn't all that inviting compared to his normal demeanor, he had ,had his fill of young men for the week after yesterdays indecent... he moved to attend to the young man's needs regardless; he was in business to sell firearms regardless of his mood when a second set of foot fall caught his attention. His eyes narrowed catching sight of a weapon in low ready, and shifted his body ever so slightly to a defensive posture, but relaxed seeing the carelessness of the weapon's wielder. "Pardon, let me see to this fellow real quick and I'll get ya squared away ,sir." he said moving to intercept the solider.


He watched the young stud waltz into the store, the uniform making it plain he was, or at least was posing as, a Helgast solider. probably on leave. Issac hadn't personally ran into the group but he had dealt with their weapons before, the VC32a1 ( as named by the cartridge request of the rifle rather than the original .338 USO) was an interesting mix of the bullpup concept and the gas sealed revolver action, personally Issac found the weapon lacking in several key points, but every force was different and this weapon suited Helgan's needs and doctrine well enough.

The old marksmen looked over the weapon rather apathetically.
" Vektan surplus or are you looking for something else? ISA 200gr APBT? 155gr palm? 168 a-max? Burger?" Issac mused examining some of the wear and tear on the rifle. Common nicks and scratches of the normal field work, a few dings to the ocular housing, finish ware under the handguard from resting it on surfaces.
" 228 rounds of USO isn't cheap in any-flavor; however you wanna slice it. As for the smoke are you looking for anything other than visual concealment or will standard WP do it for ya ? " the cyborg pressed, shifting to a more alert seated position, his leg was bothering him today.

The door opened and anpother set of footfalls rang on the floor, these were softer thasn most, lighter, liek a youjng ewoman with purpose. However those footfalls were also entering with a low crusing in a strange langauge as the woman forgot to duck {again} and deanted the doorframe. The two meter tall woman had her bow in one hand and her free ghand was holding back a small flow of blood.

She went right to the counter but saw two customers that day, and Issac working with a soldier type that made her nervous, She looked briefly to Issac and nodded just barely noticable by the soldier, but the store owner she worked with clearly understood, she'd see to the boy. Setting her bow on her right wrist where it collapsed on itself a few times until forming what looked like an armored fist she turned to the boy "Do you need anything ?" Her soft voice had a tone to it that meant 'business first then pleasure'

She took in the boy, compared to her height he was pretty much a dwarf or a hobbit or something, maybe even shorter. Then again she towered over even Issac.