The range resounded with gunfire, and there stood three out of five of the biggest badasses in Lylat. As Fox, Falco and Slippy discharged their respective weapons, a timer situated to the left of their booths showed how many minutes had passed since they began taking pot shots.
Fox had practically fan fired his custom blaster. It was no hand cannon, but his trigger finger was practically at FTL speeds as he shot it. Yeah, it wasn't like the blistering rate of fire that the weapons on the Arwing could dish out, but since he's kept the thing on his rig for about 9 years at this point ever since his first job during the Lylat Wars, there was something about the blaster that Fox just couldn't let go of. The frame that fit his hands like a glove. The familiar red bolt of concentrated heat that saved his life whenever they were planetside. He couldn't let it go, because he knew that if he'd take anything into the field, it'd be that blaster.
To his right, Slippy took aim with a IW-262 pump action shotgun loaded with slug rounds and fired one more round before cocking the handle back, loading a shell into the ejector port, then more through the loading port before cocking the handle forward and taking aim once again.
The most precise of the team, Falco, was currently aiming the IW-175 battle rifle. The model was recently adapted for trials in the Cornerian Defense Force, and Gladius Military Arms was the one that the Small Arms Commission judged as a worthy candidate. The CDF were a long-time clientele anyway, so there was probably no one else who could pull it off unless they wanted a ludicrous cut in return.
As the pheasant fired his weapon, he missed a body shot once, making a note to work on his double tap skills. The Workhorse, as nicknamed by dog soldiers did its job, as Falco expected given how he trained as a Designated Marksman in the Academy. But since he went his own way along with Fox, Slippy and Peppy, he's since favored a sniper rifle. He still preferred carrying a battle rifle most of the time, though. Given the tight spaces of urban combat missions that Star Fox had been carrying out anyway. Something about the punch of a heated plasma cell and the 25-round capacity really sold it for him. Civilian market rounds only had 9 rounds in the magazine, with the occasional extra round in the chamber. But hey, it killed people, didn't it?
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" Peppy announced on the mic from the observation room in the back wall. The guys watched their scores come up on the left meter where the clock was as it tallied the numbers with Slippy taking top score this time. Fox's eyes widened as Falco's beak fell agape.
"Yeah!" The amphibian cheered with a jump in the air and a fist pump.
"Well done, Slippy." A posh female voice spoke, as the guys turned as saw Krystal leaning with her back against the wall and her hands in her jean pockets.
"Yo, how'd you do that, Slip? I didn't take you for a skeet shooter." Falco said, still shocked at how well his wingman had fired.
"Yes, I was rather curious myself." Krystal added with a nod.
"What, are you not impressed?" Slippy protested. "I was to be designated as an engineer in the Academy, so naturally I went for the shotgun."
"Sure, but nothin' beats a combat rifle." Falco argued. "Something just screams satisfaction about a well-timed headshot." He added, holding up his rifle with one hand.
"Yeah, but I feel more at home with a smoothbore barrel." He added.
"Certainly, there were high expectations for a cadet and their standard issue weapon, I take it?" The vixen commented.
"Yep." Falco and Slippy said at once.
"It's something you learn quick in military school." Fox finally said.
"Hmm. Indeed." She replied.
Peppy spoke from the observation booth.
"Alright. Slippy, Falco, come on back. Let's see how our rookie does."
The frog and avian nodded and walked to the booth upwards, joking along the way about their leader and his nervousness around their only female teammate. Fox shook his head in annoyance and looked towards his crush as he entered "I'm a trainer" mode. Krystal stood at attention.
"Alright, Krystal. Since you've yet to receive proper firearm training, I figured it'd be time for a proper exercise."
The Cerinian nodded and allowed him to continue.
"Based on your fighting that I've seen with the Staff, we basically assessed that you would be a good mid-range combat expert. In the event that you don't have the Staff with you, you're gonna need to learn how to shoot, among some of the hand-to-hand skills you've already learned."
"What shall I be taught to shoot with?"
Fox looked to Observation and nodded to ROB, who inputted a sequence on the keypad, thus opening a firing booth surface as an SMG rose to the table. They looked to the small weapon as Krystal walked upwards and held the piece in her hands, inspecting it.
"This is the PDW-83 submachine gun. Fires standard Townes-Maiman microfusion cells, and has a capacity of 48 shots per battery. Has an effective range of 200 meters with a fire rate of 700 rounds per minute." He said.
She hit the magazine release on the weapon as a battery popped out which she quickly caught, observing the cube closely in her fingers.
"Impressive." She said.
"Yep." He said. "Careful, though. These cells are explosive if mishandled. Ready to fire?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Go ahead and look at the target down range. Look down the sights and fire when ready."
Krystal put the SMG close to the side of her face with the cheek rest on the buttstock. As she did so, a holographic reticle appeared from the top of the magazine counter giving her a proper line of sight to the bullseye that laid at the end of the range. She looked back as if waiting for an all clear from Fox, but he just simply nodded in response.
Krystal exhaled, aimed for the target, and fired a short burst that shattered the thing.
"Good." Fox said as he entered in a new target that taken the previous one's place down range. "Now try aiming from the hip."
She looked back at her CO, tilting her head in confusion.
"What? Oh. Uh, lower your weapon to where your shoulder is slightly flexed. But keep it locked. We call this hip firing. Basically, this is where a shooter will try to shoot the firearm quickly without relying on sights. Generally, it's less accurate, but you'll be able to move faster without having to restrict your movement when using a sight in order to keep the gun steady."
"Isn't this meant for close quarters?" She asked.
"Yeah, but it's also saved for moments where anyone could go down. So spraying and praying is your most convenient option. Go ahead and fire at the target again."
"As you wish."
Krystal lowered her below chest height, and squeezed the trigger towards the bullseye. It took several rounds to hit the target until the hitmarker buzzed on the last round to hit it.
"Nice. Like I said, hip firing is mainly for close quarters combat. Just be sure to aim in your general direction. Let's do one more exercise with a quick exercise on hitting multiple targets at once. You'll shoot one at a time, and you'll be timed during the test."
"A stopwatch test, I assume?"
"Yep. Reload and fire when ready."
She nodded and removed a battery from the weapon and inserted a fresh pack, finishing the reload by cocking the charging handle. Then took aim down range taking a second to steady her grip.
Steady…
Engage!
Krystal immediately aimed down to the first target and opened fire. Then another. Then to several at once. It was a few misses, but the next column got annihilated lickety-split.
She wasn't out of the woods yet, though. As a whole rotating aisle of bulls-eyes had spun and split. Using her quickest spray and pray tactic that she had learned moments ago, Krystal took aim without aiming, then down her irons. A few shots later, her MF battery had run out and she had to quickly eject it an insert a new one.
"Cease fire!" Fox ordered 30 seconds later.
Upon hearing her CO's words, she set the PDW-83 down on the table as it smoked from the firing while she turned to face him.
"Well, Fox. How did I do?"
He pulled out a tablet and looked at the results of her first firing exercise, scrolling through records by him, Peppy, Slippy and Falco and tallying the results. Krystal folded her hands in waiting.
"Hmm..." He set the vixen's statistics in the records, then entering in the results on the range timer. Then looked back to her sternly.
"I gotta say, Krystal. For a first time shooter." He paused...
Then smirked in approval.
"You did pretty good." He finished with a nod.
The vixen grinned in response.
"Really? Oh, wonderful! How can I improve?"
Fox paused and dropped the smirk, walking over to the booth and observing.
"Well. If I were to give you advice as an expert shooter, I'd say you would have to find a way to control your grouping when aiming down sights. When hip firing, I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's called "spray-and-pray" for a reason, after all."
"Yuh-huh?"
"Out in the field, you also should work on not expending your whole clip when in action. Besides the fact that these weapon cells are expensive, there's also the fact that you could be wasting ammo. Hitting multiple tangos with one magazine? This isn't like in the movies where the guy can just shoot without aiming and hit an entire row of henchmen."
He resumed his positive expression.
"But you did fine regardless. Few more exercises and at some point, we could have you try the Killing House back on Corneria. Two story house with four rooms on each level. Got rubber-coated walls for absorbing bullet impacts and extractor fans to clear out fumes. Think of it as flying through an Antari swamp. Just don't hit the trees."
Krystal grinned again and nodded.
"A fair assessment. Can't say I would want to fly near them some day."
"Nope." He replied with a chuckle. "Okay, we're done here. Let's pack it up and get back to work."