AWD #386: Step Right Up
AWD #386: Step Right Up
Summary: Private Mallas tries his hand at Captain Ommanney's marksmanship contest.
Date: 12/07/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: None.
Amos Mallas 
Firing Range
With ten different bays, the firing range can accommodate quite a few shooters with about two dozen spectators or trainees behind them. At 25 yards, the targets can be brought forward or pushed back up to the stops before the inclined plating designed to deflect rounds up. The lighting can be dimmed down to nothing for use with night vision or flashlights, also. A large sign overhead denotes the requirement of both eye and ear protection, as well as the prohibition of all ammunition except rubber or frangible. However, there are no firearms stored here. All firearms and ammunition must be checked out from the Marine Armory in the Security Hub.
Fri Jan 27 2006 (AWD #386)

Private Mallas has actually been assigned range time during his duty shift today, rather than his more common function while here — Cleaning Detail. Walking in along with several other enlisted from Dog platoon, the grunt spots Captain Ommanney and does a double take. He even leaves off complaining to his squad mate long enough to detour towards Amos and come to something resembling attention. "Hey Captain? I heard there was some kind of shooting contest? What do I get if I win, sir?"

Amos has his pistol quals coming up in a few weeks, so has been getting in a bit extra range time in his free time. Noting the arrival of the squaddies he leaves them be until Mallas actually approaches him, then double checks his weapon is safetied before replying. "You thinking of entering Private?" He eyes the lad for a moment before noting, "prize is my undying admiration for your talents, or in your case I suspect I'd make it a weekend pass down to Piraeus. And the honour of representing thing battalion against the 1/8th of course."

The rifleman doesn't look too keen until Amos holds out the possibility of a weekend pass. That gets him grinning and motivated. "Sure! Why not? Can't let those One-Eighth Frakkers off easy." He glances down at his left hand, balling it into a fist and unballing it a few times in a bit of last second physical therapy. "Just point me at the targets, sir."

Amos smile's faintly at Mallas' enthusiasm, then silently lift his arm to point downrange. "Where they always are Private," he notes, then gives the nitty gritty of it, "three pistol shots, twenty five metre range, standard lighting. Do you have a pistol checked out, or do you need to use mine?"

"Aye aye, sir." Mallas gives the indicated pistol range a quick glance, sucking on his teeth. It's not his weapon of choice, but what the hell. He's got nothing to lose. The Private nods to Amos and looks towards the range masters desk. "I'm supposed to be on the rifle range, sir. But I'm guessing I can check out a pistol for this. Unless you really don't mind me using your gun?"

"Were it actually my gun, I might, but I checked this one out about twenty minutes ago," Amos replies as he takes a half step back to leave the lane free. "Don't worry about the rifle range for now, focus, take your time, and if you get in trouble for being late to the rifle range do feel free to inform whomever is appropriate that I'd be more than happy to inform whomever it may concern that you were gainfully busy."

"You wouldn't trust me with your pistol, sir?" Mallas gives a smart-ass grin. "That hurts." He looks again to the lane the Captain indicates, takes a deep breath, and starts to focus a bit more seriously. Still, he's more than happy to take the officer-approved time away from his assigned duty. "Will do, sir." And then the Private approaches the range and stands in the lane, putting the ear protectors on before he hefts the pistol. Mallas checks that there's a round chambered, then takes up a steady, two-handed firing stance. He levels the pistol at the target silhouette and takes his time, easing out his breath before squeezing the trigger.

<FS3> Mallas rolls Firearms: Good Success.
<FS3> Mallas rolls Firearms: Great Success.
<FS3> Mallas rolls Firearms: Success.

Amos watches as Mallas checks the gun, then slips up his ear defenders as the younger man takes his stance. Keeping quiet he doesn't distract the lad, just waits silently until all three are fired, then tiggers the target control to bring the paper closer so he can tally the score foreach shot. " Six," he declares after a quick double check, then offers a faint smile, "that's the new leader so far. Well shot Private."

Mallas' first shot is near the bullseye, and he steadies down for the second shot with even more focus. This round cuts through the target near the edge of the bull, and the Private grins to himself. Perhaps he's already thinking about that weekend pass, as the third shot isn't grouped well with the first two, though it's still decently placed on the target. "Aw, frak." He's not happy with the last shot. "I was just getting warmed up," he protests to Amos. "Let me shoot another one, sir."

Pointing to the shooting stand to indicate where he'd like the pistol placing Amos sets to changing the target paper and sending it back down the range while Mallas protests. "Six Private,l" he repeats once he turns back to the conversation, "and the contest lead. Now, I seem to recall that you had some pressing business with your rifle?"

Reluctantly, Mallas secures the weapon and sets it down on the bench, then slips his ear protection down around his neck. "Man, that sucks," he grouses for not being given another chance. But he's not going to push the Captain very far, and he nods when reminded of his duty assignment. "Yes sir. I guess I do." Most of the rest of his group are already on the range and firing now, and the corporal in charge of his detail is giving Mallas the eye. "Permission to be dismissed, sir?"

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