fandomhigh | Alternative Tactics, Wednesday Period 1, 05/09

Sarah Kerrigan stood in the middle of an empty Danger Shop, wearing a simplified version of the Ghost armor. She had a serious expression on her face.

"Hey, kids," she said, "Welcome to Alternative Tactics, which is a pretty poor grouping name for a bundle of skills and knowledge you're going to need on the battlefield when you don't have a large army at your back and the bad guys seem to be holding most of the cards. Situations where ingenuity, resource management, stealth and superior maneuvering can save the day."

"I'm Lieutenant Kerrigan; I'll be your instructor for the duration. We'll be working in the environment I'm most familiar with. You'll find, however, that a lot of these concepts and skills will be of use no matter where or how you're fighting."

The Shoppe environment gave way when Kerrigan activated the program. It reconfigured into the dry asphalt tundra of the Badlands. She was standing on the rooftop of some burned out shops, holding her weapon gently.

"For the time being, though... You'll need some Marine armor for the course, so pick whatever color you're feeling," she grinned, "And have a look around. Get a feel for the sim. I'll see you at the end."

She turned around to leave, but then paused. "Oh, and you've got guns," she noted, "Point and click. Don't be an idiot and shoot someone. It won't kill you, but I'd rather not waste your time and mine reactivating frozen suits." Smirking, she hopped onto the ground.

[ ~~wait for~~ ocd up! ]

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"Kind of," Kerrigan said, a smirk pulling on the side of her mouth. "Aim, squeeze the trigger, fire. Give it a shot." She indicated one of the large cow-dinosaur-hybrid creatures.

Okay, the heifersaurus rex was something that Mikey could handle shooting. He was pretty sure. If he reminded himself that while he was in the Danger Shop, it didn't really count.

Deep breath, Mikey. Don't write home and tell Splinter that you're playing with firearms, and everything will be gravy and skittles pizza. Simple stuff.

Really, he didn't have anything to lose, right? Right. Just an arcade game, that's what it was. A big, really convincing arcade game! Duck Hunt with armor.

He did as he was told, aiming the gun and squeezing the trigger, and finding himself quite unprepared for the kick that made him take a couple of steps back.

"... Dude."

Kerrigan was peering at him with an incredibly amused expression on her face, now. Oh, marine weapons. And the kids, too, really. "That," she said, "Would be recoil. Watch for it. Try it again."

So maybe there was something to this job, after all.

Mikey nodded and smiled- the amusement on the teacher's face was doing a good job helping him calm down, at least- and then paused to consider how he might tackle the recoil while wearing such a clunky outfit (because, really, he was used to fighting in the buff. Any outfit was a clunky one).

After a moment, he bent at the knees as though he was bracing himself to be hit, aimed the gun, and fired again, this time with considerably less stumbling backward.

... This gun thing wasn't all that bad, really.

Kerrigan moved to pat Mikey on his heavily armored shoulder. "You'll be fine," she said, "You just have to give it some time and practice." She flashed him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, then slid away, moving back into the Badlands.

At least the kids weren't as stupid as some of the marines she knew.

Practically beaming, Mikey took that as a very good sign, and started shooting at every Tyrannosaurus Cow that lumbered by.

This was so much better than Duck Hunt.

Alternative Tactics, Wednesday Period 1, 05/09

Re: Target Practice

Re: Target Practice

Re: Target Practice

Re: Target Practice

Re: Target Practice

Re: Target Practice