Chapter 15: Will to Power

The white of the target got a fresh hole east of the outline’s ear—if the Pithites had ears. Sunlight squeezed through the cloud cover. It wasn’t like John couldn’t see the target at the one-quarter mark of the rifle range.

Between the cracks of gunfire from both sides, Justice and Elroy snickered from behind. Heat flushed John’s cheeks. At least Sylvester had some respect. Even lying prone, the whole shooting thing was way harder than the video games made it out to be. You moved the joystick until the dot was on the target—shoot and dead. Here was nothing like that. John took the time to line the front sight with the back and aimed at the profile of the humanoid robot. After pulling the trigger, the gun seemed to take a life of its own. It slammed into his shoulder and threatened to leap out of his hands. John’s arms shook more with every shot. How he would ever take down a rampaging robot with this coiling cobra in his hands was beyond him.

“Shut your damn fool mouths.” The DI didn’t yell. He didn’t have to. Justice and Elroy did what they were told. None wanted to risk the DI’s ire. “Everyone, cease fire.”

An uneasy quiet draped the rifle range.

The DI’s colossal structure loomed over John’s prone form. “I told you to hold your breath while you aim. That’s why those bullets of yours are flying everywhere but your target. Don’t forget this time.”

The eyes of the rest of the recruits burned deep into the back of John’s skull. He lined up the sites and found the black of the target. Shades of crimson appeared in the closed eye. The WarFace surmised that rifle practice was close enough to combat to warrant combat mode. His target, a blotch of red far off, taunted John. He pulled a breath through his nose and held it. Pressure grew on his ribs. His body no longer swayed on the waves of respiration.

He fired. The rifle jumped, but John kept his hands on the grip. A hole appeared in the center of the target’s chest. A 13 leaped off the target in the WarFace. Though the number didn’t mean much to John, it was the highest score so far. If that was enough to put a Pithite down, he had no idea. John pushed the stagnant air out, and a warmth radiated through his chest.

I might make it through boot after all.

“Congratulations. You are a smidgen more dangerous than a babe in the woods.” The DI pointed a thumb behind. “Get yourself a sniper rifle from the rack.”

John stood, opened the bolt to make sure there’s nothing in the chamber, and removed the magazine. The recruits followed him to the rack with their eyes. He exchanged the rifle for the longer, heavier weapon and a full magazine. Those eyes dug into him on the walk back.

“Put a target at a hundred and fifty meters.” The DI called to the operator in the corner of the firing range.

The tarnished target descended into the ground, and another rose three quarters of the way down the range. John put the lengthy sniper rifle on the ground in front of him and lowered himself.

“Look through your scope. Tell me what you see.”

The image looked more like a cat’s iris than a perfect circle. John settled in, and it grew and narrowed with his shifting. With every minor twitch of John’s arm, with every vibration of his breath, the image wavered.

“Uh…” John caught himself. “Sir, there’s dots in a line down the center and a series of lines. They’ve got gaps in them, and the dots almost sit inside them. The largest gap is in the first line, and they get progressively smaller downward, sir.”

“Those lines correspond with the target’s distance. That first line is a hundred meters. What you’ll do is line up the shoulders of the target so they fill the gap in the second line. You understand, recruit?”

John said the affirmative. He didn’t. Not really.

When he lined up the shoulders, the dot just above the line hovered over the target’s head until the image shook and swayed.

“Hold your breath.”

John sucked in his breath. The dot calmed. He took the shot. A 28 leapt off the target. That warmth in his chest returned.

“The scope takes bullet trajectory into account. You can use the scope to determine how far the target is as long as they are facing you, humanoid, and there’s no wind or other environmental factors.”

“Sir, what other environmental factors, sir?”

“Wind might affect trajectory, and there’s no guarantee you’ll always be fighting in one G.” The DI still stared down the range. “Put a target at two hundred.”

Another target appeared.

“We’ll do something different. I want you to look at your WarFace.”

A carousel with a few boxes lined the bottom.

“Each of those boxes are the level 1 options available to each class. We call them try-before-you-buy, or tries for short. They’re a one time use thing for figuring out which ability to choose when you hit the next level. Usually, you would only have access to them during combat exercises. We’re going to make on exception. Select the bowman option.”

John’s focus coasted over the carousel. Information boxes popped up for each box: corpsman, invader, bowman, and roughhead. A lock icon appeared on the fifth box.

Four boxes for four classes. What’s this fifth one?

John drifted his focus over the bowman option. An infobox popped up.

Headshot (I) (TRY)

◆ Type: active

◆ If the next shot hits a weakened area of the target, it will do 50% more damage.

◆ Cool-down: 24 hours (TRY IS ONCE ONLY)

John lowered his eyebrows and selected it.

“And recruit?”

John opened his eyes.

The DI gazed down at him over his beard. “If you don’t hit the head,” He locked his eyes onto John’s, “I will shove that rifle so far up your ass you won’t need your arms to carry your weapon ever again. You got that?”

John didn’t look away, nor did he blink. “Sir, yes, sir.” The words came out sharp and cool, a frozen razor blade.

“Get to it.”

John broke eye contact. With one eye closed, he put the open one to the scope. He lined up the target shoulders like after the third line and held his breath. He took the shot.

A 37 leaped off the head. John raised his eyebrow at the DI.

“You got a talent for doing things ass-backward, recruit. All you got to do is make sure the enemy doesn’t get close, and you might get out of this war unscathed.” The DI turned his back is to John. “Second line, take your places.”

John rose to his feet. He balanced the rifle in the crook of his arm. “Sir?”

The DI dragged his attention back to John while the recruits on both sides exchange places. “Yes, recruit?”

“Sir, what’s that fifth box all about, sir?”

“That’s for those in command of a fireteam. Don’t worry your little pretty head about that.” The DI nodded towards the rack. “Now unload your weapon and store it.”

On the way back to the seat, John’s thoughts raced.

In command? Is that how I’ll win the game?

“That was some good shooting,” Sylvester said on his way to his station.

“Thanks.”

“And some not so much.” Justice’s face was stone-like, almost threatening, except for his eyes. They shined in the daylight. Dude was having fun. He bounced his shoulder off of John’s chest.

John pushed him off. “Get off me, divorcee.”

Elroy laughed at the juvenile show, and John took his seat beside him. They were all divorcees now. Every time they used the insult, the bite of its edge dulled a smidge more.

“What did the DI say to you?” Elroy leaned in.

The WarFace had waited until the combat mode exited before sending the orange exclamation mark notification.

“Hold on.” John selected the notification.

◆ Hidden mission achieved.

◆ Receive a backhanded compliment from the DI.

◆ 100 XP

A hundred experience. Nice.

The knot in John’s back, the one he didn’t even know he had, unwound.

“Apparently, hidden missions are a thing.” John spoke to Elroy. “Got a hundred XP out of it.”

“Check your level. That by itself should get you to level 1.”

John exited out of the notifications and selected his profile from the main menu. It only took 100 XP to get to level 1. Though the last mission put him over the level 1 threshold, the progress bar glowed orange only from 0 to 99. Everything hundred and over had that damned lock icon over it. John focused on the lock. An infobox popped up.

◆ Levels are unlocked by plot missions.

◆ Achieve a plot mission to progress.

“Aw, fuck.”