(no subject)

There is practice to let off steam, and there is practice because practice is important and can mean the difference between getting home in one piece and being, shall we say, eaten.

So the gun-range has a pilot today, albeit it one dressed in the Marine uniform instead of her flightsuit. She has a handgun instead of a rifle (her thigh-holster is empty - no point in practicing with a weapon you aren't going to use) and, like before, the bullet holes cluster around the bull's eye.

Judging by the number, she's been here for a while, and she is just sliding in her last magazine when she catches sight of someone approaching.

"Mornin', Jack."