It was still early, only about eight or nine local time, but everyone was exhausted from having been put through the wringer. The robot soldier stood at the door, still as a statue but obviously watching them like a hawk. Denise stared at it, wondering what made it tick. She briefly considered asking Carnage if she could open it up and take a look at its inner workings. She shook her head and filed the idea under nonsense. She glanced around the room at her… well, her unit.
Most everyone was still awake. Their belongings had been delivered shortly after Carnage had left and they had all set about decorating their little space. Pictures were stuck to the wall over their beds and spare uniforms were stored in their footlockers. After several long minutes Denise cleared her throat.
"Um… A-Arby?" she called. The robot's head turned in her direction. "Are we… allowed ta talk? Ya know, ta each other?" she asked. She was stared at for several moments and she briefly wondered if the B.A.T. had a face if it would be less or more unsettling.
"Yes." it responded. Denise smiled and looked at the two women she'd be bunking with. She stood and strode over to them and held out her hand.
"Heya, my name's Denise." She said. The blonde woman smiled and shook her hand.
"Mallory. Nice to meet you. Officially, that is." She said. They both glanced at the red-head who was resting her head in her hand. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow. Mallory leaned in a little closer and then shrugged.
"I… I think she's asleep. But her name is Dahlia."
"I get it. We've all been sorta put through tha wringer today." she said with a shrug. "So… what'd ya do that got ya sent here?"
Mallory shrugged.
"I think my old base commander didn't like me much. You perform one emergency field appendectomy on a man with a pen knife and he tanks your career. That's gratitude for you."
Denise blanched a bit.
"Sounds… ungrateful."
"I know, right! I mean, I know I didn't have to remove it, but I was in there to get the bullet anyway, I figured 'Why not get it while I'm in here?' right? It could've gotten problematic in the future." Mallory said with a wide smile. "So, what about you?"
"I… uh… I sorta hijacked my bases' comms to try and win concert tickets." She said sheepishly. Mallory perked right up and leaned in close.
"Didja win?" she asked. Denise bristled.
"No! The Vipers 'rested me! I swear I was this close ta being the ninth caller!" she hissed, holding up here fingers to indicate the degree of closeness. Mallory offered the slender Hispanic woman a genuine smile.
"I like you. You and I are going to get along famously." She said cheerfully. Denise smiled in return and glanced down at the sleeping woman.
"So… do ya know what her story is?" she asked, nodding at the sleeping redhead. Mallory shrugged.
"I do." Simon called from his bed. At some point he'd changed position in his bed and was facing the ladies, resting his chin on his hands.
"Ya do?" Denise asked. He smiled and nodded.
"I certainly do." he glanced over at the B.A.T. who remained stationary at the door. "Ya see, I might've snuck a glance at all yer files while I was 'sposed to be recoverin' from my little… injury." He said, giving his leg a ginger pat. "Ya wouldn't believe the shoddy security this place has. Four guards do ya no good if'n they ain't guardin' nothin'."
"So… what'd she do?" Denise half whispered.
"I attacked my unit commander. Broke my hand on his jaw…"
Three heads turned as one and stared at the redhead. Dahlia glared back at them with bloodshot eyes.
"You're all too loud." She hissed and turned over, doing her best to ignore her comrades and fall back to sleep. Denise frowned.
"Sorry." She said quietly. Dahlia raised a hand and waved her off.
"'S fine…" she murmured. "Jus'… shhh…."
Denise looked around and everyone shrugged.
"Maybe she's got tha right idea."
"Aye, it's late and gettin' shot can really sap a man's strength." Simon agreed as he laid his head down on his pillow. "'S nice ta meet ya ladies all proper like."
Denise smiled at him and waved at Mallory as she settled back into her own bunk. She ran her hands through her unruly brown locks and shut her eyes.
"G'night Arby." She called out. The B.A.T. turned its head in her direction but she was already asleep.
The Tubac Facility was itself an entirely self-contained city. The facade above maintained the illusion of a sleepy desert town, complete with elderly retirees and school children. Meanwhile, beneath their feet, spanning miles in each direction, the facility itself was always hard at work, always growing. Cobra construction teams worked day and night, expanding the base and building it deeper into the Earth. It was currently five levels deep and three miles of spider-webbed corridors and rooms.
The eastern firing range was easily the biggest on site; equipped for shooting up to a thousand meters and taking up a significant portion of the deepest level. For the last couple hours Kyle had been walking up and down the firing line, looking between the recruits and his clipboard. For every shot they missed, he'd made them run a lap to the other end of the base and back, and he now had a lot of exhausted recruits. He'd originally trusted them to run their laps, but when Viper security teams escorted Kutter in from the officer's mess hall he'd altered his plans. He stationed guards at regular intervals down to the eastern expansion with orders to report in as soon as his misfits passed by. At the half-way point, where the facility was being expanded he'd given the foreman on duty a radio so he could call in every time one of his recruits was sent on a lap and the foreman would radio back when they arrived.
He stopped behind Simon Kutter and lightly kicked the recruit's foot. He yelped and twisted to look at Kyle, rubbing his leg.
"Careful now, it's still tender, ya ken?"
"Kutter, I want you to put three rounds into the target dummy's head. Understood?" he asked, holding up three fingers.
"Aye, sir." he replied, his Irish accent thick. Kutter looked down the sights of his rifle and after a moment snapped off three successive shots.
"He hit the target Arby?" Kyle asked. The B.A.T.'s optics whirred and clicked.
"No." it said with a shake of its head. Kyle sighed.
"Three laps, Kutter." he said, making some notes on his clipboard. Kutter got to his feet and took off again, grumbling as he went. Kyle made a note of his limp from where he'd shot him.
"How's his leg doing, Arby? Any concerns?"
"Yes."
"Well, speak up."
The B.A.T. took Kyle's clipboard and pen and made several notes before handing it back. Kyle read them over and nodded.
"Is Mallory monitoring his healing?"
"Yes."
"Good. If I'm going to do serious damage to him, let me know. I want him fit, not broken." He circled Arby's notes and moved down the line.
"Okay Faulk…" he muttered as he stopped behind the large python patrolman. "This time, I want you to put three rounds in the belly of the target. Understand?"
"I don't do semi-auto..." Faulk muttered angrily as he sighted down the rifle.
"Not yet, but you will. Fire when ready." Kyle said. Byron sighed and snapped off three shots as quick as he could. Kyle looked at Arby. The B.A.T. held up two fingers. "Congratulations Faulk. One of your shots hit the target." he said. "Take two laps."
Byron growled as he got to his feet and took off at a leisurely jog. Kyle narrowed his eyes at him. "Make it four! Double time, Faulk!" Byron continued at his slow pace for a moment before picking up speed as he exited the range.
"Next is... Kane." Kyle said, consulting his clipboard. He stopped behind Dahlia and looked down range. Her target was set five hundred yards down range, five times further than any other recruit's.
"Okay Kane, you know the drill." Kyle said. Dahlia yawned and looked through her scope. Her rifle roared three times. Kyle looked at Arby. The B.A.T. made no move. "Shocker, all three hit the target." he said, making a note on his clipboard. "Take a lap for the fun of it." Kane glared at Kyle, but he simply walked down the line. "That wasn't a request, Kane." he said without looking back.
"Prick…" she muttered as she pushed herself to her feet and started off on her run.
"Alright Layton." he said, looking at his only Tele-Viper recruit. He knelt down next to her and set his clipboard down. "Shoulder the rifle. Press it tight or the kick can injure you." He said. Denise shouldered the rifle and looked at Kyle questioningly.
"Like this?"
"Yes. Now, exhale, squeeze the trigger and shoot at your target." Denise looked down her sights awkwardly and snapped off three slow shots, flinching and taking a moment to resettle the weapon each time. Arby held up a finger.
"Excellent, you're improving. You managed to hit the target twice. Take a lap." Denise smiled wide and then took off at a jog, apparently pleased with herself. It was a marked improvement for her today. Kyle made a note of it and then approached his final recruit.
"Now Barton," Kyle said as he approached. "You didn't reload your rifle with incendiary rounds again, did you?" Frederic Barton shook his head.
"No sir." he said, smiling.
"Right. Arby, reload his weapon." The B.A.T. started forward and Fred sighed and held out his rifle.
"C'mon sir. The best part is when it goes up in flames." he argued.
"Maybe so, but I already told you not to use those rounds, didn't I." Kyle said as Arby handed Fred the reloaded weapon. "Now shoot the target." Fred sighed and snapped off three shots. He looked up at Kyle and then at Arby.
"Well? How'd I do?" he asked.
"Good. You hit it all three rounds." he said, making notes on his clipboard. "Now run six laps." Fred's face fell and he scrambled to his feet.
"W-what for? I thought you said I hit the target." he stammered.
"You did. The laps are for disobeying me. Now move."