Private One More Shot

[Sera Dragovalor]

The sharp crack of blaster fire echoed through the range as Sera squeezed the trigger.

A bolt of crimson crossed the distance and struck the target somewhere inside the outer ring. Not terrible. Not particularly impressive either. She lowered the blaster slightly and stared downrange as though sufficient disappointment might somehow convince the scorched mark to relocate itself several centimeters closer to the center.

It remained stubbornly where it was. "Fine." Sera raised the weapon again.

The shooting range had seemed like a good way to spend the afternoon. She trained regularly with a lightsaber, practiced the Force whenever opportunity allowed, and had enough experience with a blaster to use one competently when necessary. Competently, however, was a frustrating word. It meant she could hit what she intended to hit most of the time, which was perfectly acceptable right up until the moment most of the time wasn't good enough. She had decided that morning that if she was going to carry a weapon, she ought to be better with it than merely hoping circumstances remained cooperative.

Her next three shots landed closer together. Better.

Sera lowered the blaster and studied the grouping before reaching for the controls beside her lane. The target slid toward her along the overhead track, gradually revealing the collection of scorched marks scattered across its surface. Most clustered reasonably close to center mass, though one particularly rebellious shot had wandered far enough left that she wasn't entirely sure what she'd done to deserve it.

She leaned forward, studying it suspiciously. "Where were you going?" The target offered no explanation. Sera sighed and sent it downrange again.

She adjusted her stance before bringing the blaster up with both hands. Feet apart. Shoulders relaxed. Don't anticipate the shot. She had received enough instruction to know what she was supposed to do, but knowing and consistently doing remained annoyingly different things. Her first bolt struck near center. The second landed slightly above it. The third drifted right.

Her nose wrinkled. "You're doing that deliberately."

She lowered the blaster, checked the weapon as she'd been taught, then placed it safely on the counter before rolling one shoulder. Perhaps she'd been here longer than she realized. The muscles along her arms had begun carrying that familiar heaviness that came from repeating the same motion too many times, and stubbornness was rapidly becoming the only reason she hadn't stopped ten minutes ago.

Still, the grouping was improving. Slowly.

Sera reached for the blaster again, a small, determined smile appearing as she looked toward the distant target.

"All right. One more." She paused. "...Probably."

Cordelia Lake

 

[Cordelia Lake]

In. Out. In. Out.

Cordelia steadied her breath, and pulled her trigger. Three shots rang out, each a single breath apart. Three shots landed in a tight grouping, up and to the right of the target's center.

She frowned slightly, and adjusted her sights.

In. Out. In. Out.

Again, three shots rang out in rapid succession, this time striking the edge of the innermost target's innermost circle. Better, but still not perfect. Cordelia sighed, and took aim again.

The young woman wasn't alone at the small range she'd found to practice in. Another woman was practicing her own blaster skills a couple booths to the left, and Cordelia couldn't help but take notice of her aim. It wasn't nearly as good as her own. It was improving, to be fair, but it needed work.

Taking a moment to breathe, the refugee felt her arms ache. She'd been here for hours, burning through multiple targets while she practiced. Half a dozen other patrons had come and gone, and Cordelia knew she was over her meagre budget. Still, she yearned to keep going. Practicing the rifle was her only chance to feel at ease, despite the protests of her body. The target dominated her focus, chasing away the troubling thoughts she fought day and night since leaving Commenor.

She sighed again, and turned to the other woman.

“Want any advice?”



Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera had just raised her blaster for what she'd promised herself would be her last attempt when the question came from a couple of lanes over.

She lowered the weapon and glanced toward the auburn-haired woman, then briefly toward the target hanging downrange as though considering whether pride demanded she refuse. The scattered grouping staring back at her made a fairly convincing argument against that.

"Yes."

The answer came with considerably less hesitation than she might have expected.

Sera placed the blaster safely on the counter and turned slightly toward the other woman. She'd noticed her shooting earlier, though mostly in the distracted way one noticed someone nearby doing something frustratingly better than oneself. The tight groupings on the woman's targets had been difficult to miss, particularly when Sera had spent the better part of her own session trying to convince her shots to consistently agree on where the center was.

"The problem is, I'm not entirely sure what advice to ask for." A sheepish smile appeared as she gestured toward her target. "I know what I'm supposed to do. Stance, grip, breathing, sight picture. I've been taught all of that."

She looked back downrange, studying the evidence of her latest attempts.

"But knowing all of that and actually getting my shots to go where I want them are apparently two very different skills." Her nose wrinkled slightly before she glanced back toward the stranger. "Sometimes they're good. Sometimes they're..." She pointed toward the particularly rebellious shot she'd been questioning earlier. "...wherever that one thought it needed to be."

A quiet laugh escaped her as she rested one hand against the edge of the counter.

"So yes, I'd love some advice." Her expression brightened with genuine curiosity. "Maybe just tell me what you see me doing wrong? Because at this point, I'm pretty sure I'm too close to it to notice."

Cordelia Lake

 

[Cordelia Lake]

A soft chuckle escaped Cordelia’s lips. She remembered the frustration that came with that plateau.

“You are right, your stance seems fine, but you're tense.”

It was advice similar to what her father had given her so many years ago. Advice that had genuinely helped, as she developed a bad habit to tense further as she pulled the trigger, which would in turn send the bolt flying wide.

“Try to relax, if you tense too much before the shot you'll pull the blaster out of position with the trigger.”

She leaned against the durasteel divider marking the edge of her lane, taking in the other woman's appearance. She was young, maybe even a bit younger than Cordelia. She was fit too, evidence of an active life. Maybe she'd be able to help Cordelia find her way…
“Feel where you want the blast to go as much as you aim,” Cordelia paused a moment before awkwardly adding “That's what I do, at least.”

It was true. After so long shooting, the Commenorian had learned to simply feel where she wanted a blast to go as much as she actively aimed.

“Take another few shots, let's see if I was any help.”


Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera listened carefully, nodding once as Cordelia spoke. Tense. She hadn't even realized she was holding herself so tightly until the other woman pointed it out. Looking back, she could almost feel it now. Every shot had become a tiny test she'd been trying too hard to pass.

"That... actually makes sense."

She picked up the blaster again, but instead of immediately raising it, she paused. Her grip was firmer than it needed to be. Her shoulders had crept upward. Even her jaw felt tight. With a quiet breath, she consciously let each one relax, surprised by how much effort it took to stop trying so hard.

Feel where you want the blast to go.

It wasn't a technique she'd been taught before, but she decided not to overthink it.

Sera settled into her stance, brought the sights onto the target, and took a slow breath. In and out.

Just before her finger finished pressing the trigger, she caught herself tightening again. Her shoulders stiffened, her hand clenched around the grip, and she stopped before the shot broke. A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"There it is."

She let out another slow breath, loosened her grip just enough to feel the difference, and settled back into her stance. This time she focused less on making the shot perfect and more on keeping herself relaxed all the way through the trigger press.

The blaster cracked.

Only then did she lower it to see where the bolt had landed.

Cordelia Lake

 

[Cordelia Lake]

Cordelia watched as the other woman readied herself for the shot. Rather than watching her aim, or where the shot landed, she watched the other woman's body. Her movements, her stance, and for any sign of tensing. She tensed once, then relaxed.

Good, Cordelia thought to herself. Control it.

Finally the shot came with a sharp crack. Cordelia breathed a moment, then turned to look at the target. Not quite center, but close to it. Much better than her other shots.

Not that she'd be much better, once upon a time.

“Well done,” the young woman turned to her counterpart, then remembered she hadn't introduced herself yet. With an extended hand, she added “I'm Cordelia by the way.”

She smiled gently, hoping to make a new friend in this mess of a Galaxy.

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera kept her attention on the target for a moment after the shot landed, studying the fresh mark in comparison to the scattered collection she'd managed earlier. It wasn't perfect, and she certainly wasn't going to pretend one better shot meant she'd suddenly figured everything out, but it was closer. More importantly, she'd actually felt herself tense before pulling the trigger. That alone made Cordelia's advice considerably more useful than another hundred rounds fired without understanding what she was doing wrong.

"Thanks." Sera lowered the blaster and set it safely on the counter before turning toward the other woman. "I'm probably going to have to catch myself doing it about fifty more times before I stop, but at least now I know what I'm looking for."

Her gaze dropped to the offered hand before she accepted it with a friendly smile. "Sera. Sera Dragovalor." She gave Cordelia's hand a brief shake before releasing it. "It's nice to meet you, Cordelia."

Sera glanced toward Cordelia's lane and the tight groupings she'd noticed earlier. Now that she knew how much work went into controlling something as seemingly simple as tension, those targets looked a little more impressive than they had before. "You've obviously been doing this a lot longer than I have." There was no resentment in the observation, only curiosity and a little admiration.

She picked her blaster up again but didn't immediately resume shooting. Instead, she looked toward Cordelia with an easy smile. "So, was someone patient enough to teach you all of this, or did you spend an unreasonable amount of ammunition figuring it out yourself?"

Cordelia Lake

 

[Cordelia Lake]

Cordelia gave an easy chuckle. She'd been there before, catching herself tensing repeatedly before it finally became instinct to relax. The hours she spent training her aim and her body to act as one. It felt so long ago now, but they were good times in hindsight.

"Nice to meet you too Sera," the words were partially to commit the other woman's name to memory.

She smiled again at the questions. It had been a long time sine she'd thought about those days, when her father taught her to shoot. Initially it was to learn to hunt and defend the family's animals, only later did she realize her love of the sport. She blushed before answering.

"Years. Since I was old enough to hold a blaster, really," She paused a moment, then spoke again. "My father taught me most of what I know. He is - was - a good teacher."

The sudden memory of her father was clouded with recent events, and Cordelia's smile shrank. She wanted to keep hope that he was still out there, working in some labor camp. She knew better. He was too proud to give in so easily. More than likely, he was turned to ash or buried in some mass grave.

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera's smile lingered as Cordelia spoke about learning so young. It explained quite a bit. Years of practice were visible in the ease with which the other woman handled a blaster, something Sera suspected couldn't be replicated by knowing the proper technique alone.

Then Cordelia corrected herself. Is. Was.

Sera noticed the change in her expression that followed, and whatever lighthearted question she'd been about to ask faded before it reached her lips. She didn't know Cordelia well enough to understand what sat behind those two words, and asking outright felt too much like reaching into something the other woman hadn't offered her.

"He sounds like he taught you well," she said instead, her voice gentler than before. Her eyes briefly moved toward Cordelia's target and its tight groupings before returning to her. "And apparently his lessons are still getting passed along, because now you're teaching some of them to me."

A small smile returned, warm without trying to erase the shift in Cordelia's mood. Sera left the opening there rather than asking about her father. If Cordelia wanted to tell her more, she could. If she didn't, Sera wasn't going to make a new acquaintance explain something painful just to satisfy her curiosity.

She glanced toward her own target again and picked up the blaster. "I suppose that means I should try not to embarrass either of you." The humor was deliberately light as she settled the weapon into her hand, already more aware of the tension threatening to creep back into her fingers. "No promises, though. You've seen what I'm working with."

Cordelia Lake

 

[Cordelia Lake]

"He did," The words were soft, choking back emotions. "He'd be proud knowing his lessons stuck well enough for me to share."

The other woman's words and smile helped Cordelia back from the edge of her worries. She turned her mind to conversation at hand, steeling herself in Sera's comforting presence. The young woman wanted desperately to share her burdens and mourn, but it was far too early to do such a thing. So, instead of crying, Cordelia let out a soft chuckle.

"There's certainly room for improvement," Cordelia's voice still betrayed her unsteadiness, but were more confident now. "Maybe try a few more shots, I'll keep an eye out for anything else I can help with."

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera caught the slight break in Cordelia's voice, just as she'd noticed the earlier correction from "is" to "was". There was clearly something there, something painful enough that the conversation had brushed against it twice now, but Cordelia didn't offer an explanation. Sera wasn't going to ask for one. They had known each other for only a few minutes, and there was a considerable difference between being willing to listen and deciding that someone owed her the story behind the sadness in their voice.

So when Cordelia steered them back toward shooting, Sera went with her willingly. "Room for improvement is a very generous way of putting it," she replied, the warmth returning easily to her smile. She turned back toward the lane and looked at the target, taking a moment to find the mark from her previous shot among the others. It was better, certainly, but one decent bolt wasn't exactly evidence of a miraculous transformation. "All right. A few more. Let's see whether that one was actually progress or the target just felt sorry for me."

She brought the blaster up again and settled into the stance she'd been taught, but this time Sera paid as much attention to herself as she did the target. Her shoulders wanted to tighten almost immediately. Her fingers wanted to close more firmly around the grip as though holding the weapon harder would somehow make the bolt fly straighter. Now that Cordelia had pointed it out, those little reactions seemed embarrassingly obvious. Sera breathed out slowly and loosened them before placing the sights where she wanted them.

The first shot cracked downrange. She resisted the temptation to immediately lower the weapon and inspect the result, instead drawing another breath and trying to remember what the first correction had felt like. Relax. Aim. Don't turn every pull of the trigger into a test she absolutely had to pass. The second bolt followed, then a third after another measured pause. Somewhere between them she felt herself tense again, and this time she recognized it quickly enough to make a conscious correction rather than letting frustration follow.

Only after the last shot did Sera lower the blaster and finally look toward the target. Her lips pressed together thoughtfully as she considered the new marks before glancing sideways toward Cordelia. "I think I felt myself doing it again on one of those." There was no disappointment in the admission. If anything, she sounded mildly pleased that she'd noticed it at all. "So, teacher, what's the verdict? What am I doing wrong now?"

Cordelia Lake