Chapter Three: "You're a stupid Talon, like the rest of us!"

"All right, ya grunts. Y'all understand all relay and obstacle course requirements?"

Most of the group had no qualms about the instructions, knowing that most questions would be ignored anyway or answered in an undecipherable manner by the most esteemed Sergeant Bullwinkle. "Why are we all training on the sixth floor?" Kaiba Cloudrifter dared to ask. "Wouldn't some Talons be better placed in the sims or at the shooting range?"

Sergeant Bullwinkle scrunched up his nose at the question. "Y'all are a team, ain't ya?"

"Sort of," Telia Aris mumbled under her breath, aiming her particular hatred toward Jaren.

Captain Ski spoke up from the far left, where he would be competing with his own group. "There will be times and places where everyone will be needed on ground, and there will be times and places for your specialty. If you have to substitute for someone on a particular mission, I don't want you to be unprepared. I'm setting a standard of excellence for everyone in this squadron. By meeting it, you will be among the elite the New Republic has to offer."

There were a few groans, but most of his Talons were more than ready for a challenge. He also knew that more than a few desired to annihilate their teammates in the actual race and were therefore very eager to begin.

Ski could only hope that this race would bring about more camaraderie and fewer rifts. Most of his planning of the actual training counted on it.

"Take yer mark, fours," Bullwinkle grunted, the signal that the fourth person in each division should line up first. The third and second person would follow, and the leader of each group would finish the race for their team.

"I don't see the point in any of this," Quis Heartilly grumbled, taking her place at the head of the operations team line. Gripping the relay stick tighter, she gazed at the woman next to her, Mekial Yrisar. How she wished she could be as bold and as open as that woman! Mekial was jumping up and down, excited to win the first round for the support team.

Ty Flynn, point man for the second operations team, could only half-heartedly attempt to joke about the competition to his left. Milan Lirac, the silent and dangerous Kiffar, appeared ready to either win the race or kill someone, all for the glory of the intrusions team. Or perhaps because he just wanted to kill someone. His arm muscles looked flexed, but another look at the relaxed warrior silenced that idea. Milan probably looked that muscular day and night, working out or resting.

Bullwinkle made sure the fours were set and, without fanfare or warning, blew his whistle to begin the race.

The distinction of talent was evident just on the sprint to the ropes course. Milan took the lead without breaking a sweat, flipping the relay baton into the side pocket of his uniform and heading at full speed toward the ropes course and foam pit below. Leaping forward from the lip of the pit, Milan skipped an entire set of ropes before grabbing another in the middle of the course. Right behind him was Mekial Yrisar, who was not able to leap as far, but was certainly able to swing as fast, almost catching up to the determined Kiffar.

Behind the two leaders was Ty, who unfortunately hadn't acted upon the whistle immediately and had fallen behind to the point that he would probably not catch up. Quis trailed last, but was keeping up just fine. The deciding move was Ty's ability to think quickly and tuck his team's baton into his belt before jumping toward the ropes. Quis couldn't seem to keep hers in her pocket and ended up having to bite the stick and carry it across the ropes in her mouth. As she landed on the other side of the course, she let loose a curse more loudly than she would have liked and drudgingly continued onward.

Milan could hear Mekial's every footstep and every labored breath, but he had to admit that she was an unwavering competitor who would not give up. Milan approached the series of hurdles as if he had run professional track, not even faltering at the height differences and the occasional trap just beyond the hurdle. Mekial, as athletic as anyone in the squad, performed superbly and had actually gained five steps on the first place position.

Ty Flynn and Quis Heartilly were not so fortunate. The two tripped up several times and were unable to get into the rhythm of hurdling and running before they had almost reached the end.

The last portion of the course was an open maze. The forced pattern of running had all four Talons on their toes, and some had quicker reflexes than others. Milan continued his amazingly swift run, Mekial was forced back a little, and Ty and Quis actually made up for lost time. The four were sent zigzagging through an absurd pattern of blocks until the path opened up to the end of the run.

"Come on, slacker!" Trika called to Milan. She was the next in line for the intrusions team. Trika and a few of the others in line had tossed out some cheers for their teammates, but she by far had been the loudest, jeering playfully and encouragingly. He followed the rules step-by-step, reaching forward with his baton and handing it off to Trika, who took off without more than a split-second pause to tuck the stick into her uniform.

Right behind Milan came Mekial, who, in her rush to catch up, had handed the baton to Rubi Jais and tripped into the large Kiffar, who fell onto the mat quite loudly.

Kevin instinctively moved to step between the two, not knowing if that particular incident had angered Milan beyond reason. He didn't have a weapon on him, but looking at the large mass on the floor made him long for the comfort of one.

Mekial looked as if she would literally faint before the imposing Kiffar. Milan, however, slowly flipped over and offered a slight smile and his hand. "Good run," he congratulated her quietly. The relief was visible even from the other end of the training room. The two got up just in time to see Kendrick Quinn, recovering from lunch, and Rinin Altura sprinting toward the ropes course.

Trika Adair had snatched the lead from Milan and never looked back, athletically charging headlong into the ropes and quickly advancing toward the hurdles. She was an odd-looking female anyway, but it was even odder to see someone enjoying the thrill of running as fast as he or she could possibly run.

Rubi stayed very close to first place, never falling too far behind before stretching herself to run harder and faster. Poor Kendrick, it seemed, had never gotten over that afternoon's coleslaw. He trailed Rinin by a considerable distance, and by the time he reached the agility maze, all three of his competitors were already crossing the line and passing batons to teammates.

Stone waited patiently, anxious to continue the intrusion team's wild lead. Trika held out the baton and ran completely through the course, passing along her momentum and nearly pushing Stone over. The combat expert and medic thought it very kind of her to help him along and, in response, gave a sharp tug on the stick, sending the Chinaési female flying forward onto the mats. Stone turned slightly and managed a good look at her as he charged ahead. Trika's narrowed eyes and steaming face made him laugh heartily before turning around for good and lunging for the ropes course. Somehow he knew that would come back to bite him.

Kaiba Cloudrifter and Telia Aris could have linked arms and run the rest of the course together. Not about to let the other ahead, both women raced as fast as possible, and it was clear that they were taking the obstacle course seriously. Telia entertained the thought of pushing Kaiba into the foam sea underneath the ropes, but she thought it might cost her team the race and perhaps a night of kitchen duty. The last thing that Telia wanted was to see Sergeant Bullwinkle late at night.

Danya cursed herself for being the operations team hacker. So far behind, she would never catch up to the intrusions team unless Stone and Lieutenant Muir fell dead before the finish line. The other teams were doing well also. But the operations team? Just as in her attempts at lunchtime conversation, Danya found herself carrying more than her fair share of the burden. "Go team," Danya muttered sarcastically, jumping past a hurdle.

Jane Muir's team had already dubbed her a sadistic dictator, and although they weren't aware that she knew that little fact, she was perfectly happy with the title. Jane grasped the baton tightly and ran hard, never looking back and confident that the support and operation teams would not be able to catch her.

There was a good reason the intrusions team had been chosen as they had.

Jaren Kai jumped off the line with amazing speed and stamina, proof of his experience in the training room. Jaren had participated in the Imperial Games as a teenager and was still in incredible shape from training as a sniper with the New Republic military. All in all, it was apparent that Lieutenant Kai was one of the best-trained and athletic members of Talon Squad.

Kithera Rinani desperately wanted to win, but found her hope of even catching Jaren a very fleeting idea. She would have to personally murder Ty herself for not taking the race just a little more seriously.

Back at the starting line, Kevin Ski grabbed the baton from Danya and had taken off for the other teams. It was a far-fetched attempt, but Ski was definitely going to give the race his strongest and most competitive try. Kevin did not slow even though the operations team was in last place.

The race became uncomfortably tight toward the end, with both Jane and Jaren not willing to lose to the other. Both turned the last corner and sprinted for the end, knowing that their teams were counting on them and would probably harm them if they lost the race. As close as the race was, however, the intrusions team had collectively given Jane the edge to finish first. Jaren was only a split-second behind.

Kithera and Kevin charged ahead, catching up for a bit of the lost time. The second operations team finished third, ten seconds behind Jaren, and Kevin brought up the operations team's last place finish, three seconds behind Kithera.

Kevin took a look at his squad. Some were winded, some were smiling, and some were completely infuriated. The intrusions team members were exchanging pats on the back, but little more. The support team congratulated each other excitedly. It was nearly expected for Intrusions to win, but to come so close to beating them was an awesome feat.

"Now what the kriff was that supposed to accomplish?" Kaiba complained loudly. Kevin knew she was frustrated with her assigned team and would need some work on her attitude. In fact, he made it a point to remember to see the second operations team later that evening. He had heard from Kithera that their meeting was somewhat of a disappointment. Ty, Rinin, and Kaiba wouldn't shut their mouths, pay attention, or take anything seriously, let alone offer anything helpful to a conversation.

Kevin's operations team was a different lot. It seemed that Kendrick and Quis had unfortunately expected the worst from their new assignment and refused to get to know anyone else. They both needed an attitude adjustment. Well, maybe Ken needed his stomach pumped first. He knew Danya was unhappy, but she would be all right. The red flush in her cheeks amplified her wordless opinion of her team.

"Well, I'll be," Bullwinkle said, chewing on some form of straw stick while musing on the results with wonder. "The intrusions team won!"

Kevin gave the man his fifth odd look for the day. Stepping forward, he held up his hands for everyone to quiet down. "Good work, teams," he began, pleased with the general outcome. "I'm excited to see that many of you took this seriously and prepared mentally for such a task. This was not just an exercise of the body. Some of you are experiencing for the first time what it means to be a team, and some of you aren't embracing the call to be leaders in your positions. I'm not looking for laborers or minions. I'm looking for teammates and leaders.

"I want you all to be friends."

Many of the squad understood and nodded. A few were already beginning to talk more with other Talons, actually. There were even some who were experiencing friendships with other races for the first time. The Talons held only a trio of different races and species, but he knew it would take some work to create an atmosphere of tolerance and equality. All in all, the Talons were going to have to make the best out of being Talons. They hadn't been placed in this situation to be friends, but it was going to have to be done.

"Awww, isn't that sweet," an amusing voice cut through the mood again. "Let's all be friends." Trika pranced around in a small circle and blew kisses to everyone.

A collective chuckle came from the group. Kevin raised an eyebrow her way and stopped her antics with a harsh stare. "Mock me again and I'll see to it that you have kitchen duty for the next week," he threatened jokingly, a smile forming yet again on his face. He was grateful that at least his group was laughing.

"That's all for today, Talons. I hope that some of this friendly competition has created a relaxing atmosphere for you," Kevin ventured to say, watching a particular few sneer at him. "Then again, I know the intensity of competition can make tensions between members flare, so you may take the rest of the evening to spend amongst each other. Some of you will be spending that time via kitchen duty, and you know who you are. Sergeant Bullwinkle will meet you in the mess hall after dinner. I would also like to see the second operations team in my office on the first floor one standard hour after dinner."

Ty scrunched his face up. "Well, I sure didn't do anything."

Rinin glared his way. "The act of your breathing is extremely painful to behold. Please stop."

Kaiba scowled at her teammate. "Shut up, schutta," she spat viciously, using a Twi'lek curse in an effort to make him even angrier.

Rinin stepped forward threateningly before Kithera grabbed his arm and held him in place. The strength in both her arm and her voice was surprising. "You'd be wise to remain where you are," she quietly informed him, summoning every bit of leadership experience she had to deal with his attitude. "We're all in enough trouble as it is. We don't need our team holding back the rest of the squad."

Kevin stood, watching the turn of events intently. Kithera was handling the situation well, and by the look of things, Rinin wouldn't dare push any further. The entire squad was staring harshly at him. "Again, those of you with kitchen duty will meet in the mess hall and Talons Thirteen though Sixteen will report to my office. Be ready tomorrow for some fun at the shooting range and sims. Report at dawn." He took another look around and, despite a few exceptions, couldn't be more pleased. "Dismissed."

The responses varied greatly, with more deserting their teams than not. A few friends hung around for another couple of seconds before leaving together, and a couple of the Talons had stayed in place, apparently waiting to speak with Captain Ski. Danya, Jaren, and Kithera eagerly stood while Ski finished up a few quick instructions to Sergeant Bullwinkle. Somehow, however, he already knew their complaints and comments, their needs and questions. Answering would be the tough part, but not on Kevin's end. No, listening to his responses would require patience and discipline, two items that the majority of his squadron lacked.

Kevin still had a long way to go before he could properly claim even the smallest of victories.

*****

"I think it's still alive."

"Was this on the menu tonight?"

Rinin rolled his light blue eyes and tossed another cup into Ty Flynn's rinsing tank. "If you ladies would shut up and help out, we would be out of this situation much sooner."

"We'd be better off if our fifth and sixth jolly helpers would show up," Rubi grumbled, taking care to slowly pour the leftover food into containers and not onto the floor. As much as she would have liked to spill the entire load for Trika to mop up, she also knew that the longer it took them all to collectively clean the mess hall, the longer they all would have to stay.

"Telia's probably late, as usual, but I think Danya may be getting herself into more trouble with Captain Ski," Trika guessed, remembering the elevated voices coming from the end of the fourth floor hallway just before dinner. Brushing her mop across the floor, she stopped at a particularly dark area. "This spot should be labeled a biohazard."

The double doors burst open, as if on cue. Quietly fuming, Danya slunk in and grabbed the nearest bucket and towel. Without a word, she slapped the towel down on the first table and began scrubbing with more force than was really necessary.

"I take it your discussion with Captain Ski was not productive," Rubi prodded.

Danya dunked the dirty towel again and proceeded to the second table. "I'd prefer not to talk about it," she mumbled. Her mass of shoulder-length dark blond hair fell forward to half-cover her face, but it couldn't conceal the noticeable redness of her cheeks. Several of the other Talons exchanged glances, some sympathetic and others smug.

"I'll take that as a 'no,' then," Rubi surmised, correctly if rather unnecessarily. "What were you arguing about, anyway?"

A bit of an edge slipped into Danya's voice. "I said that I don't want to talk about it." The young hacker stared down hard at the table she was cleaning, but she didn't seem to see it at all. Under her breath, she added, "I swear, that man is impossible..."

Rubi handed the last pot to Rinin, who accepted it with a sneer. The cluttered kitchen area was almost done. "He seems nice enough, if you believe in everything he says and are willing to comply," she offered, perhaps her first polite gesture of the week.

"Easy enough for you to say," Danya muttered, scrubbing more forcefully with each sentence. "You're not stuck with him as your partner on the operations team from hell."

"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad," Ty said, ever optimistic. He paused before adding, "At any rate, it can't be worse than what any of the rest of us have to put up with!" He chuckled. It seemed that almost everything about the Talons was a joke to him. Danya was sure that he wasn't the only one who felt that way, but she wasn't laughing.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't exactly make it easier." Danya dipped the towel back into the bucket and wrung it out, imagining in a brief fit of pique that it was a certain captain's neck she was wringing instead. "I'm supposed to be hacking on missions, and I can't rely on my team to hold up their end. I can't even rely on my team to hold up their end of a conversation." Everyone knew that Danya was referring to Kendrick and Quis, the quietest of all the Talons.

Trika continued to mop the floor around the tables. "You are where you are for a purpose." She sounded wise for perhaps the first time in her life. "Leave the mission hacking and slicing to the experts." A fairly large and evil grin made its way to her face, grating on Danya's already raw nerves. It was clearly apparently to everyone else that Trika was itching to worsen the situation.

Danya raised her gaze from the table to level an irate stare at her fellow hacker and the only other competition that she might have had in the squadron. "Expert?" she countered, waving her towel vaguely in Trika's direction. "Expert at what, exactly? Shooting your mouth off? What would someone like you know of my specialty, anyway?"

The Chinaési female stopped mopping and turned back toward Danya, her emerald eyes sharply narrowed; there seemed to be a glitter of real anger there. "Someone like me? Someone like me? An ignorant savage, you mean?"

Danya frowned, knowing enough details of Trika's heritage to realize why the woman seemed so offended by what she believed Danya to be implying. "That's not what I meant..."

Trika cut her off before she could finish clarifying. "I know enough of your specialty to have been placed here," she retorted, a devilish smile forming on her face as her quick mind formulated its return-trip sarcasm. "As for shooting my mouth off, it would seem that you have some expertise in the area, yourself, or you wouldn't be here, would you?"

Danya's own eyes narrowed, her soapy hands coming to rest on her hips. "I spoke up on your behalf at the briefing. See if I make that mistake twice."

If Trika felt any sense of reproof, it certainly didn't show on her face, which bore an insufferable smirk. "Hey, it's definitely not my problem if you never learned how to mind your own business."

The smug comment, no worse than any that had preceded it, was the snapping point for Danya's already badly frayed nerves. Without warning, she tossed her towel aside and began a swift march toward Trika. It was clear to all five Talons from her body language that she had had quite enough of Trika's nonsense. Her hands on her hips had clenched into fists, and she found herself having to fight a surprisingly strong urge to use them to remove that infuriatingly cocky little smile from her rival's face.

As she approached the Chinaési woman, Danya still wasn't entirely sure what she intended to do with her fists, but the combination of a wet floor and gravity made the decision for her. The rest of the Talons saw Danya slip and pitch forward into Trika, knocking them both to the sudsy ground. The group attempted weakly to suppress hearty laughter at the hackers' predicament.

"I forgot to mention that I have this terrible habit of mopping myself into a corner," Trika quipped from the floor as Danya attempted to disentangle herself. Under different circumstances, Danya might have also bee able to see the humor of the absurd situation herself. But any hopes of laughing it off were dashed in the next moment as Trika's mop, which had so far remained upright in a precarious lean against the nearest table, fell over, its handle striking Danya in the back of the head with a sharp crack just as she was beginning to push herself back up. Danya lost her balance and fell back onto Trika, who had likewise just begun to sit up. Their skulls collided painfully.

In the frenzied thrashing of limbs that followed, Danya's elbow connected with Trika's ribs, and Trika's foot found Danya's shin. It was difficult to say which of the two hackers had thrown the first intentional punch, but it was possible that each one believed, at least initially, that she was acting in self-defense as the struggle quickly escalated into an outright brawl.

Ty, Rubi, and Rinin, jaws stretching downward, felt they should call Sergeant Bullwinkle to break up the fight. All three ignored the impulse and instead continue to watch as the combatants' moves steadily progressed from defensive to vindictive, with Danya and Trika exchanging petty hits and kicks on the floor. Ty began to point and laugh.

"Don't tell any of the guys we saw this," Rinin told Rubi, his eyes never leaving the fight. "They might get angry that I did not alert them to this." Rubi rolled her eyes at the male and turned back to her work.

Scowling, Telia entered the room just as Danya grasped a handful of Trika's red braids and turned that ridiculous face towards her awaiting fist. The slicer was one step ahead, though, and her own punch landed on Danya's left jaw. Trika paid for it dearly with a kick to the chest that took her breath away. Another punch hit Trika in the nose. Telia could only continue to gawk at the battle scene.

Two massive and filthy hands grasped the two females by the neck and lifted them to their feet. The putrid smell coming from behind them could only identify the man as Sergeant Bullwinkle.

"Fightin', are we?" he snorted, and the two fighters stopped struggling, apparently seized with fear or perhaps paralyzed by Bullwinkle's potent stench.

"No." Trika had the fortitude to speak up, her hand reaching to her lip to check for blood. "Danya was instructing me on the proper way to stretch before strenuous exercise and things got a little out of hand." As if to prove her point, she sloppily wiped her bleeding nose clean.

Bullwinkle might not have been born the sharpest of his family, but he could definitely catch the sarcasm dripping off her words. His hand still tight around her neck, he lightly and playfully shook Trika around, a disturbing smile on his face. "Oh, I can tell we're goin' to be seeing a lot of each other, Miss Adair. You, me, an' th' mess hall!"

Trika jerked away and quickly attempted to rub the grease from the back of her neck. "Please don't threaten me so," she mumbled, giving one last exaggerated wink at Danya, who was nursing a bruised forehead, a sore jaw, and a slightly swollen bottom lip, not to mention a great deal of resentment about a great many things.

Bullwinkle had turned his attention to the latecomer. "You jus' can't seem to get anywhere on time, Miss Aris."

The tall, slender woman merely stood there, ready to take whatever punishment was coming. She apparently was not the only one in a foul mood, however, so she offered a somewhat trite explanation. "I was held back by my team leader. Lieutenant Kai and I have some issues that are more pressing than most."

"I don't care that much," Bullwinkle informed her with typical nonchalance, or maybe he was just clueless. "My kitchen and mess hall will be cleaned. I don't think yer teammates appreciate it very much, though, that they had ta clean it fer ya."

"I had pressing matters -"

"You and everyone else!" Rinin interrupted, his own frustration spilling over. "Ty and I were due in Captain Ski's office fifteen minutes ago!"

"That's your own problem!" Telia shot back. "If you'd keep your mouth shut and stop acting like a child, you'd -"

"Does anyone in this squad have the right to say someone else is acting like a child?" Rubi scoffed, only adding fuel to the fire. "You're not better than anyone else here, you know. You're a stupid Talon, like the rest of us!"

Bullwinkle raised a greasy arm and spoke loudly enough to be heard by all. "I think it best that ev'rybody keep quiet and finish cleaning before I begin handing out 'fresher duty." As predicted, the six misfits turned silent, but there was no sorrow or regret, only anger. "Captain Ski will be alerted 'bout this behavior and y'all can expect to be contacted later t'night."

All six Talons picked up the nearest tool and began to clean yet again.

*****

By the time Telia returned to her quarters, she was exhausted, but no less angry. Images of Jaren and their latest argument raced through her head, punctuated occasionally by Rubi's "stupid Talon" quip and Bullwinkle's threats of further work detail.

She slapped the door release mechanism with more force than was really needed. When the door didn't immediately close behind her, she slammed it again. The reverberation of her attack on the offending panel seemed to clear her head somewhat, and the sharp pain in her palm actually had a soothing effect.

Then her eyes fell on the solid black shape of the case containing her customized sniper rifle. Her mind immediately returned to Jaren. How could he be such an idiot? He had barged in on her practice time at the range that afternoon, claiming to want to fix the problems between them, to help her "work through her feelings." It was just like him, always trying to come to the rescue, as if she was the one who needed help.

And what did he know about solving their differences? He was completely clueless when it came to her feelings. There was no way he could understand what she was feeling: the anger that burned in the back of her eyes when she saw him, the gut-wrenching sense of loss she felt when she thought of him.

After all this time apart, thinking that she had her life back together again, they were right back where they parted ways. They were assigned to the same squad. They were expected to act as a sniper team. Telia pressed her palms to her face and let out what started as a sigh. It quickly turned into a scream of frustration.

As she dropped her hands back to her sides, the exhaustion of the day finally set in and she collapsed into a heap of aches and pains on her bunk. She still had a hundred things that needed to be accomplished before tomorrow, but they could wait. She made a halfhearted attempt to kick off her boots before the world drifted away from her and she fell into a troubled sleep.

*****

Kendrick leveled his A-280 Blastech Sharpshooter rifle at the disposable targets lining the wall. He squeezed the trigger, the rifle's stock jerking against his shoulder. The report of the shot bounced off the walls of the shooting range, but Ken didn't notice. His entire focus was on the rifle, on the targets before him. He sighted down the barrel again.

Ken figured he would be spending a lot of time around the shooting range. It wasn't the most luxurious place in the Talons' base, and it even lacked any sort of electronic monitor and target combination. It was quiet, though. It was out of the way. He had already seen Jaren and Telia around, but they had ironically left in foul moods after an argument. Other than the two snipers, though, Kendrick had been the only one practicing before tomorrow's shooting drills.

It gave him time to think and be alone, just the way he liked it.

Aim. Fire. Reload.

Training was going well, he supposed, although his stomach was still twisting at the memory of Bullwinkle's coleslaw. So far, the intrusions team had been heavily favored in competition. He gave a brief chuckle at the idea of tomorrow's exercises, some which would give him and his teammates more of an advantage. The intrusions team would be hard pressed to fly and shoot as well as the other teams.

Aim. Fire. Reload.

Kendrick had spent some time in the lounge, inspecting schematics of the ships and fighters that the Talons would be utilizing. Several huge datapads of every detail had been strewn across the lounge tables to give him better angles of each curve and corner. He had taken a liking to several of the modified A-wings that would be coming in, and he figured he'd be able to modify them more with the help of Quis and maybe that Kaiba woman.

Aim. Fire. Reload.

The Sharpshooter felt very familiar in his hands. Captain Ski had issued a good many standard blasters to the squad, but Kendrick preferred his own equipment. Well, a lot of Talons did. The A-280 was kept locked away in his room, away from the other Talons, and had hardly ever been used until today. There had been a few missions with Pash Cracken's A-wings, but those were days in the past that he would just as soon like to forget.

Ken lowered the rifle. One of the Human-shaped targets on the far wall had detached itself and was moving on a ceiling track toward him. When it came within range, he tore it off to examine it more closely. Scorched black spots covered the chest area of the figure and proceeded further into the head. He allowed himself a smile, crumpling up the target and tossing it into the awaiting trash bin.