Eralam's Explosives Emporium

Koko sighed and began to massage her temples with her fingertips.

"Common? No, not really. And I wouldn't go so far as to call them compatriots. Sometimes a girl's just gotta show the idiots" she hooked a thumb towards the dumbfounded gunsiths "who's boss. Here's a hint: don't ever let someone push you around just because he's got a little bit of meat hanging between his legs. Oh, they'll try, but it's easy enough to put them in their place."

She came around the counter and noticed that Chisame had her pistol drawn and was in possession of the old rifle. The Shard woman politely ignored the first.

"I take it Eralam told you to practice?"

Koko smiled warmly and began rummaging through a cabinet under one of the gunracks.

"Oh, it's quite alright," she said as she placed a nondescript jar made of black plastic on the counter. "We're not busy today, and even if we were I'd have one of these chuckleheads man the register."

Next came a similarly unmarked white cardboard box, ten inches to a side, which made an audible thunk as it hit the glass countertop.

"It's not often I get to teach a charming young woman such as yourself the finer points of musketry."

The two larger containers were soon joined by a brass powder measure, a package of linen patches, and an ornate powder horn. Muted swearing would occasionally filter up from the cabinet, but was largely drowned out by the clanking of various tools and trinkets being shifted aside.

"...bastard...knew I was wearing white today...show that pompous prick..."

And so on and so forth. After several moments, Koko finally emerged from the murky depths with a box of flints in hand.

"One moment dear, just have to grab something from the office."

She slipped into the office for precisely one moment. The door had barely closed by the time she burst out. The white business suit had been replaced by a button down dress shirt in dark grey, and black slacks that, while form fitting, were loose enough to allow freedom of movement. Instead of the short heels, she was wearing black hiking boots, obviously well broken in. The subcompact .45 was now worn in a paddle hostler on her left hip. The only thing that didn't look like it had been expensively tailored just for her was the long canvas duster she wore over it all. It had clearly been designed for someone several inches taller and much broader in the shoulders. The sleeves were too long and had been rolled up to her wrists, and the tail drug the ground. The whole ensemble contrasted sharply against Koko's stark white skin, but the shooting gloves she wore covered her hands, and a simple balaclava would take care of her head if needed. In short, the outfit could make the transition from stylish to tactical in short order.

The smaller bits of kit required to fire the ancient rifle went into the duster's cavernous pockets. Soon, all that was left on the counter was the jar and the cardboard box.

"Alright, we're good to go. If you'll follow me..."

Despite the obvious weight of the box, the Shard woman hefted it and the gunpowder in one hand with no apparent effort and led the way out of the shop's front door. The firing range was located immediately behind the shop, but the two weren't physically connected for security reasons.

Whereas the shop had been small and understated, the range was a massive building nearly three stories high. It had a rectangular footprint of 300 meters along the front and 1500 on the side. The inside was a technological marvel. Nearly every conceivable weapon could be safely fired in here, and the infinitely configurable range could serve as anything from a short pistol range to a long-distance sniper's paradise. It could even be configured as a shoothouse with minimum effort. A stairway near the door led to elevated shooting positions.

"For today's purposes, we'll be firing on a ten meter familiarization course. It doesn't seem like much, but the goal is just to get you familiar with the loading and handling of the rifle. We'll start pushing out further tomorrow. Also, you might want to consider wearing a more practical outfit. Once we start pushing out, most of the shooting will be done from the prone or kneeling positions, both of which are rather undignified in a skirt. I brought the boss's jacket today to help with that."

A shadow passed over Koko's features, her bright eyes clearly troubled. There be dragons here.

"Ask me again later on tonight, after a few drinks. It's a long story."

It took her a second to regain her composure, but once she did she was all charm and smiles again. Whatever demons lurked in her past, they would not be allowed to interfere with the job at hand. What sort of instructor would she be if a few bad memories were enough to throw her off her game?

"Now, have you ever fired a flintlock before? It's not difficult, but it's different enough for most people that they have trouble getting all the steps in the right order under pressure. I don't think you'll have a problem with that, but we're going to start off slow anyway. Crawl, then walk, then run, as the saying goes."

Koko smiled knowingly.

"I'll take that as a yes, but you'd not say so."

The pale woman took the ancient weapon from the girl and motioned for her to follow to the first firing position.

"There are a few differences between your average smoothbore and a rifle. The smoothbore, for instance, is usually much easier to load, as the ball fits more loosely down the barrel. The minie ball helps by being smaller than the diameter of the bore. It'll slide more easily down the barrel. When the powder ignites, a cup at the base of the bullet will catch the blast and expand, and will in turn grip the grooves."

As she spoke, she began emptying the contents of the jacket's pockets onto the firing position's table.

"We weren't expecting to have to fire the flintlock today, so we don't have any cartridges made up. We'll be doing it by hand. It's not as fast, but it's a good idea to learn how, just in case."

The Shard woman took the opened the plastic jar, which turned out to be filled with black powder. The musty smell of charcoal and sulfur wafted through the air as she filled the powder horn.

"It's always a good idea to have a horn like this on hand. It's archaic as hell, but it's not likely to be mistaken for anything else in the dark."

Once the horn was filled, she replaced the lid on the jar and opened the cardboard box. It contained 100 lead-cast minie balls. She set a few off to the side, and then filled the brass powder measure from the horn.

"After you get the hang of it, you can get a feel for about how much powder you'll need without using the measure. But for today, please utilize it."

As soon as she finished speaking, Koko's hands began darting about the table and the rifle like hyperactive monkey lizards. She brought the rifle's hammer back to half-cock and pushed the frissen forwards, exposing the pan. She used the horn to fill the pan directly and then covered it back up with the frissen. The butt of the rifle went on the ground, the barrel pointing towards the ceiling. The contents of the powder measure went down the barrel. She then placed one of the small patches over the end of the barrel. The patches, as it turned out, were impregnated with a minty smelling grease. The bullet was then placed over the patch and inserted into the tip of the barrel with her thumb. At this point, she removed the ramrod from underneath the barrel and drove the bullet home. Once it was seated, she lifted the ramrod up an inch or so and dropped it back down. It bounced, indicated that everything was packed tight. It went back into its storage pipe. Koko then brought the butt of the rifle up to her shoulder and assumed a good standing firing position, feet shoulder-width apart, right leg bag, her body leaned forward and her elbows tucked in. She brought the hammer to full cock with her thumb, took aim at the ten meter target, and fired. There was a brief flash as the hammer struck the frissen and ignited the pan, then a thunderous crack as the main charge went off. When the ventilation system finished siphoning off the sulfurous white smoke, the women could clearly see the perfect half-inch hole in the silhouette's heart.

The whole process took about 25 seconds from start to finish.

"You will never be as quick with one of these things as you will with a modern rifle or blaster. It's just not going to happen. It works as an ambush weapon, but unless you've got a bayonet handy, you'll get torn apart in close quarters. Would you like to give it a try?"

Oops, forgot the earplugs. Fortunately, there were several disposable foam pairs at every firing position. She grabs a pair for herself and passes one to Chisame.

"Sorry about that. Anyway, try to avoid close quarters combat with a weapon like this. They were originally designed to be used in a melee if necessary, and if you have a bayonet, they work quite well as spears or pikes. But a lot has changed since then. If you get cornered by a punk with a blaster, it doesn't matter how good your are. If you miss that first shot, you won't get a second. While you might get lucky and stab or club him before he can shoot you, and that's not likely to happen, what if there's more than one of them? What if you're facing a trained, disciplined soldier who has no problem with gunning you down if it suits him? This is an ambush weapon, and you need to get into the mind of an ambush predator. Stalk your target from afar. Remain unnoticed until it's time to strike. And when you strike, do so quickly and decisively, and get the hell out of there. The flash and smoke will give away your position every time.

"If you have to stand and fight, have a backup weapon. Your Model 39 is a good pistol, and if Eralam had his way with it, it'll probably be a tack driver. Actually, since we're technically set up for a pistol range and you already know what you're doing with the rifle, you're more than welcome to try it out. Today was just going to be loading procedures anyway. We'll work on distance shooting tomorrow after we've gotten you some more suitable clothes."

Koko patted the girl on the shoulder.

"Take as much time as you need. I'll be in here waiting. Just keep this in mind: no matter what you do, not matter how well you prepare, things can always go wrong."

Koko cleared the rifle, then set it down on the table and ushered Chisame to the door. She stopped the younger woman for just a moment before letting her out into the fresh air.

"Hey, I know everyone has some things they'd rather not talk about," she said, her eyes clouding over for a moment. "But sometimes, that's exactly what you have to do. I won't lie and say it'll make everything better, but you can't keep it all inside forever. Anyway, I'll be here if you need me."

With that, the Shard woman headed back to the firing position and drew her .45. The small pistol barked like a much larger piece, and the recoil would have been formidable to most humanoid species, but Koko handled it like it was nothing more than a .22. Anything that might have been going through her head was washed away in a hailstorm of muzzle flashes and empty casings.

PRESENT DAY


If it weren't for Eralam's call earlier, Koko would have been slightly worried about the newcomer. They got all sorts of folks in EEE, but this guy had the faint whiff of explosives common to those liked them a bit too much. Folks like that were generally bad for business, though they were still welcome if they had the proper permits. But she had received the call, so she knew that the protocols had been implemented. She wasn't privy to the full list of folks that might show up; the Boss was the only one who knew for sure. All she knew was that the newcomers would all be challenged. If they provided the proper response, things would get started. Whatever those things might be, she doubted they would be pleasant.

"Hello, sir. Do you need help finding something?"

Though her expression didn't obviously change, a trained observer might notice that Koko's smile had become much more brittle, as though the war face beneath was just dying to get out. The Shard woman did not take kindly to advances from strange beings, however polite they might have been. Still, this Ravel had presented the proper challenge, meaning that he was, in fact, one of the contacts. It would therefore be considered impolite to shoot him in the testicles for his troubles.

Koko accepted the offered hand, shook it quickly, and released. She made a mental note to bathe thoroughly as soon as possible.

"I believe that Room AA20 would be the best suited to meet your needs."

There, the proper response had been given.

"I'll have my assistant, Voort, escort you."

The big Gamorrean looked more or less like the rest of his species, and absolutely loved to brawl whenever the chance arose. He would just as happily gut a family of four as he'd throw himself off a building to provide an alibi for the Master. If it came down to a physical confrontation, a solid slab of fat and muscle counted for a lot.

He wandered.....well, perhaps wandered was far too generous a term....let's try again. *clears throat* He floated through what he supposed must be the door, but in his current state, he had no need of such mundane trivialities as 'doors'. What was a door anyway? and impediment, that's what. A purely esoteric means to protect ones well being in a false sense of security that was in fact as meaningless as the bags of flesh these mortals careemed around in daily, hither and yon, to and fro. Hectic. And somewhat idiosyncratic. But i digress. being dead tended to make one wander about in ones own mind..... He stepped from the contemplation of what exactly a door was, and instead faced the person behind the counter of this fine establishment. Well, perhaps Fine was far too generous a term......let's try again. *clears throat* He instead faced the person behind the counter of this adequate establishment and spoke...ok, it was more of a whisper. And by whisper I mean that it could only really be heard in her head....Or maybe it was that he was actually speaking...but what was speaking really? A form of communication sure. But was it more a means of projecting ones own inner dialogue onto another who may or may not want to hear it?
He shook his head. Or what would pass for a head in this case and 'spoke' to the lady.

"My name is/was/could have been/might still be iniquitous. There is something I am looking for.....But I seem to be a Llama leaking Motor Fluid.....no wait. That is not correct at all....um..hang on, I got this.."

He closed what passed for eyes and thought, snapping his fingers, his eyes opening wide

"I am a Lazy Leering Master Fornicator.....damn it. That's not right either....."

He looked up once more, a sly grin on what passed for a face in this ghostly form.....

"Apparently I am Lost Like a Mother Fucker. "

He paused briefly, looking quizzical for a second, then turned his head slightly on an angle

"I don't suppose you sell maps? Or GPS?"