Randomness thread. Plot snippets that won't go anywhere else

[Dartz]

And another. Random Catgirl training.

“You’re all dead.”

All five catgirls grimaced as they shared glances. Their fur was already matting into the drying chocolate.

“Care to guess what you did wrong?”

Jet popped her helmet, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

“We used the wrong type of grenade?” one of the catgirls, a tabby ventured.

“You threw a grenade at someone who has faster reactions than you. That got it thrown back at you.”

The remains of the chocolate grenade sat in the centre of the group, burst open. It was a stand-in.

The tabby tried to glare. “We were trying to slow you down. You do need to see, right? And even a lethal grenade should’ve slowed you down.”

“Yeah,” a grey furred catgirl with a white heart on her forehead weighed in behind her.

Jet offered a conciliatory smile. “It was a decent idea. But you need to be perfect with your timing to even have a chance of getting it to work. Get it wrong and you either blow yourself up, or get the grenade kicked back at you.”

A third, almost coated with chocolate spoke next. “But without slowing you down we had no chance to reach the exit in time!”

“Stand your ground. That was your only chance. You stand your ground. Running away from someone who’se faster than you doesn’t work.”

All five catgirls shared glances with each other. “Then what are we supposed to do? Run and die? Stand and die? Or prey on their sense of cuteness?”

One of them giggled.

“If there are five of you, you split the cross section of the corridor into four corners. Top left, top right, bottom left, bottom right. The fifth member of your team targets straight down the centre.”

She indicated each direction with her arm out straight. The blade on her elbow shone in the overhead lights.

“You switch your weapons to full automatic. Then you each fire along the length of the corridor, in a straight line, and fill the air full of lead. It’s like suppressing fire.”

“And within a few seconds we have no ammo left,” the tabby replied.

“it’s better to use it and live, than keep it and die.”

“Alright,” the chocolate coated one said, looking entirely uneasy about the concept.

“Now, the real hard part is that you don’t even try and aim for your target.”

“Why?”

“Because if you aim at me, I’ll just move to wherever you aren’t shooting. Remember, I’m always able to react faster than you. I can see you aiming.” She pointed to her eyes. “Your only chance is to leave me nowhere to go but through somewhere where there’s a stream of bullets.”

None of them said anything. This had clearly been a bad idea.

Jet continued. “You won’t have more than a second to get this right, so you have to work out how you’re going to do it in advance. How you organise each other, how you decide who shoots where. You work that out in training now.”

“It still seems crazy,”

“It’s the only chance you have. If you get lucky, you might just find a chink in the armour. The more lead you get in the air, the more hits you’ll get, the more bites you get at that cherry.”

“And if we don’t? If we don’t get a lucky hit?”

“You die anyway.”

“That’s bad...” one catgirl said,sighing.

“That’s what happens when you’re facing this level of opposition. You can’t outrun, you can’t outfight, you just have to dig in and hope for a lucky shot.”

“Guts, luck and sheer rate of fire.” Jet counted all three out on her fingers. “That’s what’ll save your life.”

“That sounds totally Civil War!”

“What Civil War?” the quietest of the five - a small siamese - asked. Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

“Are you sure it’ll even work?”

Both catgirls tried to loom over the cyber. Yellow eyes were glowing.

Jet’s gaze was hard and cold. “I lost two friends to Boskonian mooks armed with hyper-penetrator rounds who used just this tactic. It’s a fucking scary thing to blast through.”

That took the wind clean from their sails.

The catgirls nodded wordlessly. One of them plucked at a solid mat of fur and chocolate. It was almost becoming a composite armour.

“Can we get a shower now?”

“Not until you can do this and score solid hits.”

All five scowled, baring their fangs. Nobody who would stand between them and a hot shower would go unpunished.

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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?