Pistol Practice (2)
"Nngh!"
Freesia stretched with everything she had, savoring a stretch of free time she hadn't enjoyed in what felt like forever. It had been ages since she'd eaten dinner this leisurely. In fact, this was the first time since she'd served as executive officer under Colonel Tachyon—a full five months ago. Of course, even back then she'd been bouncing between battlefields during the war, and the postwar cleanup had kept her swamped until the final two weeks when things finally slowed down. Looking back, her military career had been one hell of a ride.
She'd become a major only to get dragged into a full-scale war instead of some minor skirmish, then somehow racked up enough merits to make lieutenant colonel in just two years while knowing absolutely nothing about the job. Thanks to that, her stomach still churned every time she had to attend a commanders' meeting. When she sat in on those sessions, she was surrounded by officers who made Brigadier General Lavire look like a distant star—colonels easily twenty years her senior, and even the other lieutenant colonels were ten to twenty years older than her. A commanders' meeting full of men in their forties at the youngest, stretching all the way to their sixties and seventies, with a single thirty-four-year-old rookie stuck in the middle. She stood out like a sore thumb.
Brigadier General Lavire kept asking how things were going at the supply port and whether she was having any problems. Honestly, she could barely choke down her lunch on those days. Still, even she had to admit she'd improved a lot since first taking command. Back then she'd read documents over and over without understanding a thing. Now she at least had a rough idea of what everything meant. And though today was her first time managing it, she'd actually finished all her work within regular hours.
Come to think of it, wasn't there a live-fire test scheduled for next month?
She checked the schedule. The live-fire test was set for the end of next month—about a month and a half away.
"I don't want to do this."
She wasn't part of the marine detachment or the guard unit. How often did a ship captain even need to fire a gun? And now that she was a field-grade officer, she'd have to qualify with a pistol instead of a rifle like she had as a captain...
"If only I'd ever actually fired one."
In a standard battalion flagship's table of organization, the six personnel authorized to carry pistols were the battalion commander, executive officer, master chief petty officer, operations officer, chief medical officer, and senior orderly.
Originally Freesia should have qualified with a pistol during her two years as a battalion executive officer, but the war had broken out before she could even get to practice firing. By the time the fighting ended and the cleanup was done, she'd been promoted to lieutenant colonel and sent back to the Ariel System. So she'd never once fired a pistol. After arriving in the Garion System she'd been busy hunting pirates, and once she'd settled into the supply port she'd been swamped just learning the administrative side of command. In the end, while others qualified with pistols around the time they made major, she had reached lieutenant colonel without firing a single round.
"Maybe I should give it a try?"
It wasn't as if she'd never fired a gun at all, so it probably wouldn't be a disaster. Still, it seemed like something she ought to practice at least once. If she was being honest, she was curious too.
"Yesss! I win!"
"Heh heh. Guess two years of vacation made me rusty?"
Watching Daisy hop up and down with glee, Frederick shook his head with a genuinely surprised expression. He'd stopped by the firing range to get in some practice ahead of next month's live-fire test. Daisy had been there first with the same idea, so he'd suggested they bet on who could shoot better. Even the legendary master chief whose gaze could stare down the stars themselves had made the offer; Daisy hadn't dared refuse. The bet was set—thirty fixed targets and twenty moving ones.
The result was shocking. Daisy won. Both had scored perfect hits on all fifty rounds, but three of Frederick's had struck arms or legs while forty-nine of Daisy's had hit vital points, with only a single round missing the mark. It seemed two years of long-term leave had dulled his edge considerably. Age probably played a part too. In his prime he used to hit vital points even on far more difficult tests.
"Hehehe. What did you expect? I am the senior orderly, you know."
She was right. While the guard unit was primarily responsible for the commander's protection, the orderlies also served as final close-range bodyguards in emergencies.
That was why orderlies—and their senior counterparts, the dedicated adjutants—were generally expected to possess exceptional marksmanship. Daisy was no exception.
"Wait, isn't this your first time using a pistol?"
"Well, pistol or rifle, you just aim, shoot, and hit the target, right? The aiming method is a little different so I struggled at first, but after a few shots it started to feel natural."
"Heh heh..."
As far as Frederick knew, this was indeed Daisy's first time in the senior orderly position. There was a record of her serving as an orderly for about a year back when she'd been a corporal, but this was definitely her first time being issued a pistol as senior orderly. Since there'd been no opportunity to shoot while they were in the asteroid belt, Daisy could only have been handling a pistol for a month at most. And even then, she'd spent most of that time attending to Freesia during her late nights, so she'd probably only actually practiced for about a week.
Yet here she was, showing this level of skill after just a week.
"Are you sure you picked the right specialty?"
With skill like that, she could have been a designated marksman in the marine detachment. Given how much that role depended on natural talent, someone with Daisy's ability would have advanced quickly.
"Ah, well... my great-grandmother on my mother's side was an elf, so..."
If beastmen were known for superior physical ability, elves were known for exceptional mana sensitivity. Their weaknesses were opposites as well. Beastmen tended to have lower mana sensitivity, while elves were born with weaker physical capabilities.
In Daisy's case, the elven blood had skipped generations and manifested in the physical direction. Unfortunately, it hadn't manifested in a particularly helpful way. She could handle normal military life without issue, but she wasn't cut out for the marine detachment.
"Sorry about that."
Realizing he'd touched on a painful subject, Frederick apologized. Daisy waved her hands in a panic.
"No no no! It's fine! Besides, I actually enjoy communications work more than something that relies on talent anyway. Marksmanship is training, sure, but I want to keep it as more of a hobby, you know? Is that weird?"
Daisy smiled sheepishly and scratched her head. Frederick chuckled warmly like always as he cleared the empty magazines. What was weird about that? Everyone lived life in their own way. And it wasn't as if Daisy was neglecting her actual duties.
"Still, it really does feel different from a rifle. It's fun. Maybe because there's no stock, you have to concentrate more on aiming."
Unlike rifles, which could be shouldered to help control recoil and steady aim, pistols required controlling recoil and maintaining aim using only hand and arm strength.
Most people trying a pistol for the first time complained about how awkward and uncomfortable it felt. To hear someone say it had a nice "feel" and was fun? She really did seem to have a natural gift for shooting.
"Oh? Daisy? And Master Chief Petty Officer?"
The door opened while the two were cleaning up the range. Freesia stepped inside.
"Commander! Ma'am!"
"Hello. I thought I'd get some practice in while I had the chance. Were you two practicing as well?"
"We had a little bet while we practiced," Frederick said.
Freesia's eyes widened slightly at the word "bet." She felt a pang of regret. Something fun had happened while she wasn't around? She should have come a little sooner.
"What kind of bet? No, more importantly—who won?"
Daisy stepped forward and puffed out her chest proudly. The action needed no explanation. Freesia's eyes widened even further.
Daisy had won?
"Heh heh. She was incredible. A complete and utter victory with no room for argument."
Freesia's surprised expression lasted only a moment. She loaded practice mana rounds into the pistol and stepped up to the firing line with a tense look on her face.
She'd never actually used one before, but she'd studied proper grip, aiming techniques, and various other fundamentals. She'd even practiced her stance in the commander's office while reviewing the manual earlier. Still, having never fired one, the weapon felt unfamiliar in her hands.
"You've got this, Commander!"
"Hoo..."
Freesia raised her pistol toward the front at the system voice prompt. Fixed targets would appear randomly at forty, eighty, or one hundred fifty meters—left, right, or center. Moving targets would travel at standard infantry movement speed. The passing standard for officers was sixteen fixed targets and six moving targets.
The moment the start signal sounded and the targets appeared, Freesia's muzzle began tracking them without pause.
Nine different targets appeared and disappeared at random, but her sharp dynamic vision caught every one and followed it precisely.
The same was true for the moving targets. Even when they mixed in deceptive changes of speed and direction, Freesia refused to be fooled.
After all thirty shots had been fired...
"Huh?"
When her results appeared, Freesia standing at the line, Frederick, and Daisy watching from behind all fell silent.
FIXED TARGETS: 13/20
MOVING TARGETS: 4/10
The bright red failure indicator made Freesia's face burn exactly the same shade of crimson.