200 meters and climbing.
I have the target. Bob raised his pulse gun to his shoulder.
"Take the shot, youre gonna lose it!
Dont push me, lieutenant. Its my shot
Caulfield looked through his binoculars.
Its still going, sir, range approaching 300 meters. Ill take it!
Stand down lieutenant, this ones mine.
Bob squeezed his trigger.
Three hundred and twelve yards away, a dinner plate shattered into a dozen pieces. He laughed.
looks like youre buying the beers, lieutenant. I believe that that was just a clean shot at over three hundred meters without optics.
That depends. Give me that rifle. Bob took the binoculars.
Sergeant Davies, let the record show that as of 1245 hours, I have completed the terms of the bet as it was specified, and that Lieutenant Caulfield will be purchasing the first round of ale tonight at the officers club.
Aye aye, sir
Bob and his marines were doing live fire training on the exterior of the UNS Musgrave. For a half mile on either side of him, the collossal ship spread out. His men were spread out all over the length of the ship, held down by the ships's artificial gravity, shooting at target drones.
Davies, you may launch the target when ready.
Caulfield and Bob were using special, smaller targets that they had appropriated from the ships mess hall. Davies picked one up and hurled it out. Just then, a jumpstream terminated a mile off the ship's port side, directly in front of Captain Roberts and Lt. Caulfield. As the flash dissapated, Bob could make out an Ishiman heavy cruiser turning towards the Musgrave and its escorts. Bob raised his binoculars and examined the ship as it approached.
"Caulfield, why is there and Ishiman Heavy cruiser flying into airspace that the captain expressly reserved for live fire training?"
"I'd imagine that it has something to do with bad planning, sir. Shall I order cease fire?"
"Please, before it gets within range and something bad happens. Hmm... ISN 9154775. Looks like we have some diplomatic visitors..."
Just then, the HVC boosted towards the Musgrave, rocketing barely ten feet above the marines heads before kicking itself sideways and into a cartwheel to retrofire and slide gently into the docking bay on the far side of the ship. Bob stood up from where he had flung himself to the deck.
"Caulfield, check and make sure everyone's ok. I'm going to have a word with that pilot."
"Very good, sir."
Bob ran to an emergency escape airlock and hard cycled it, quickly emerging into one of the ships main corridors.
He ran to a lift, pounding through the halls with his heavy suit, sending ops personnel scampering out of his way. He charged into the large landing bay just as the gangway stairs were pulled out, and a short, stubby Ishiman wearing a diplomatic uniform stepped out onto the flight deck. Bob cut himself off as he realized that what he had to say was for the pilot, not the passenger. He saluted smartly, as the Captain walked in and greeted the diplomat warmly. Bob instead walked behind them up into the HVC.
Inside, a tremendously oversized wasp was making jokes with two Ishimans and a Human. He looked over his shoulder at Bob and threw a lazy salute with one of his arms.
"Greetings, Captain, how may I be of service to you?"
Bob's anger fell away very quickly. He looked at the wasp with amusement for a moment.
"Trinve... Good to see you again!"
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NEW NAME FOR THE DREADNOUGHT
The Hard-Boiled Egg
Why?
Because she cant be beaten!
(This message has been edited by Captain Pharris (edited 05-03-2002).)