Read Online Citadel (Book 1): Training in Necessity by J. Clevenger - Free Book Online
Authors: J. Clevenger
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Physical Conditioning, but he could just take care of that on the way over.
Instructor Verres- no, Instructor Catherine came in. It still seemed a little weird but calling someone by their first name was the polite thing to do, here.
"Good morning. I'd like to pick up where we left off, yesterday." Huh, no warm up, just right to business today. "Pretend you're a villain. Ignore whatever moral compunctions you would normally feel about a given criminal act. What would you do?" Wow, the restaurant had been trashed. What the hell? She reached for the stack of papers at her side. If anything, Hector thought it might be a little larger than yesterday. Maybe some of the rewrites were a bit more thorough?
"First response: 'I'd head up to the Capitol Building and murder the Western President.'" There were a few scattered chuckles. "Ambitious. Given the powerset of the individual in question, I'd say about a ten percent chance of success. Class One threat."
The chuckles stopped.
"Of course, that only takes into account what I personally know about the WP's security detail. I'd be surprised if there wasn't more. Odds of the subject surviving for more than a week, assuming success, effectively zero.
“Second response: 'After spending a month or so doing the research, rob every bank in LA, simultaneously.'" Hector suppressed a grin. The laughter was louder, but different, too. Nervous? "There are a number of safety precautions listed that I won't go into. I'd actually give this one a high chance of success, at least for most of the banks." She smiled. There wasn't much humor in it.
"Class Two threat. Taking into account those precautions I mentioned, I'd say about a month before death or capture. Less, if there's significant civilian casualties." He chatted with Mom, cheerful as he cleared away the remains of her breakfast. Mornings were both her best and her worst times.
"Third response: 'Pick a city on the Battlegrounds border, then show off in public. Wreck a building and take out any cops that show up or something. Then, I declare myself the newest Lord of the Battlegrounds and rename the city after myself.'" Any pretense at humor was gone from her face and her voice.
"Hm. Given powersets and the nature of Stationary operatives in border locations, Class Two or Three. Depends on the city and the building." "Assuming the operative in question is ignorant of the responder's powers, their response is likely to be unnecessarily vigorous. Chances of success or survival are effectively zero."
Hector tuned out, just for a bit. He was done with the permission forms. The armory guy walked him over to the certification range with some pistols and a couple boxes of ammo. The hims by Drew and Kelly were both paying attention.
----
Certification Range
The first step was always safety. Hector checked his earplugs. They had a good fit. His glasses were in place. There wasn't anyone else on the range. The second step was familiarity. He picked up the pistol he'd been given, careful to keep it pointed downrange. Safety was on, he pulled the slide to make sure the chamber was empty. Good.
Hector didn't recognize the gun, not even a brand, but the mechanism was smooth and the pistol itself was surprisingly light. Maybe a little too light? Recoil might be a problem. He set the weapon aside for the moment and began loading the magazines he'd be using for the certification shoot.
Hector was ready. He inserted the first mag, chambered a round, took a two handed grip and set himself in his firing stance. After a short wait, he heard the same tone used to signal the start of a sparring match. A target silhouette, just a simple outline on a stick, popped up at the five yard mark.
Hector took his time with his first shots. This was just the practice phase. He got five shots each at five, ten and fifteen
Instructor Verres- no, Instructor Catherine came in. It still seemed a little weird but calling someone by their first name was the polite thing to do, here.
"Good morning. I'd like to pick up where we left off, yesterday." Huh, no warm up, just right to business today. "Pretend you're a villain. Ignore whatever moral compunctions you would normally feel about a given criminal act. What would you do?" Wow, the restaurant had been trashed. What the hell? She reached for the stack of papers at her side. If anything, Hector thought it might be a little larger than yesterday. Maybe some of the rewrites were a bit more thorough?
"First response: 'I'd head up to the Capitol Building and murder the Western President.'" There were a few scattered chuckles. "Ambitious. Given the powerset of the individual in question, I'd say about a ten percent chance of success. Class One threat."
The chuckles stopped.
"Of course, that only takes into account what I personally know about the WP's security detail. I'd be surprised if there wasn't more. Odds of the subject surviving for more than a week, assuming success, effectively zero.
“Second response: 'After spending a month or so doing the research, rob every bank in LA, simultaneously.'" Hector suppressed a grin. The laughter was louder, but different, too. Nervous? "There are a number of safety precautions listed that I won't go into. I'd actually give this one a high chance of success, at least for most of the banks." She smiled. There wasn't much humor in it.
"Class Two threat. Taking into account those precautions I mentioned, I'd say about a month before death or capture. Less, if there's significant civilian casualties." He chatted with Mom, cheerful as he cleared away the remains of her breakfast. Mornings were both her best and her worst times.
"Third response: 'Pick a city on the Battlegrounds border, then show off in public. Wreck a building and take out any cops that show up or something. Then, I declare myself the newest Lord of the Battlegrounds and rename the city after myself.'" Any pretense at humor was gone from her face and her voice.
"Hm. Given powersets and the nature of Stationary operatives in border locations, Class Two or Three. Depends on the city and the building." "Assuming the operative in question is ignorant of the responder's powers, their response is likely to be unnecessarily vigorous. Chances of success or survival are effectively zero."
Hector tuned out, just for a bit. He was done with the permission forms. The armory guy walked him over to the certification range with some pistols and a couple boxes of ammo. The hims by Drew and Kelly were both paying attention.
----
Certification Range
The first step was always safety. Hector checked his earplugs. They had a good fit. His glasses were in place. There wasn't anyone else on the range. The second step was familiarity. He picked up the pistol he'd been given, careful to keep it pointed downrange. Safety was on, he pulled the slide to make sure the chamber was empty. Good.
Hector didn't recognize the gun, not even a brand, but the mechanism was smooth and the pistol itself was surprisingly light. Maybe a little too light? Recoil might be a problem. He set the weapon aside for the moment and began loading the magazines he'd be using for the certification shoot.
Hector was ready. He inserted the first mag, chambered a round, took a two handed grip and set himself in his firing stance. After a short wait, he heard the same tone used to signal the start of a sparring match. A target silhouette, just a simple outline on a stick, popped up at the five yard mark.
Hector took his time with his first shots. This was just the practice phase. He got five shots each at five, ten and fifteen
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