“Have you hit anything yet, MK-219?" 
It was a semi-familiar voice, a trooper who frequented the shooting gallery in a similar fashion to Mark's own. DV-125. Mark didn't so much answer as frown at the guy for a second and look from his smug face to the target in front of him, riddled with red dots. 
Their shared fondness of the shooting range is where Mark would want the similarities between them to end, they were really nothing alike. Mark was a scout, stealthy, sneaky, low-key, eyes and ears sharp, first one on the ground in any campaign. DV-125, or Lancer, was a shock trooper. A supporter with high firepower, perfect for keeping the attack line from falling back. Shock troopers were the last to be deployed, if at all, only slightly ahead of the vehicles. 

Lancer kept walking and seemed to leave Mark alone, might as well. Precision shooting, even for fun, takes concentration, and with a shock trooper nearby there is no such thing as peace and quiet. 
With his rifle once again leveled against his target and a few more white dots spawned Mark was ready to get back to his thing. However, before he had a chance to fire the hologram flickered and disappeared a second before a range of moving holograms appeared at various points around the room. One of them a tank frequently used by the rebells. 

The bastard had started a simulation, without asking, what a dick. Now Mark's score was wiped and  he had to redo the whole thing. 

"Mind taking out that sharpshooter behind there, MK-219? I'd rather not have my brain's fried up while I try to keep our squad from getting blown to pieces by that tank." Lancer yelled from his position way down the line, cowering behind his cover, apparently pinned down by the holografic challenge he'd created himself. 
Getting 'killed' wasn't that big of a deal. Your gun stopped working for a time until you reloaded, you took a hit to your score which would effectively prevent you from reaching the top. Getting killed was bad, and the poor bastard with the worst score each week was forced to do the maintenance on the whole chamber. Mark had pretty good score. Keyword; had. 

He took a gander at the battlefield. A tank, a small group of snipers and about a dozen regulars. Normally too much for two people to handle. The tank would have to be hit in the right spot to detonate either the ammo or the fuel cells. Even at the worst settings the hologram would try pretty hard to keep a single guy from doing just that. As long as no one was distracting the tank Lancer would not be able to get a clean shot. Throw in the snipers, as soon as the shock trooper popped his head up he'd probably find himself staring down their barrels. The advancing regulars meant that he didn't have the luxury of time. 

You didn't have to be a master strategist to see that the battle was lost. Even if Mark could take down the snipers, he'd be no match for the regulars unless he could somehow outmaneuver them and pick them off one by one. With the tank present no amount of fancy footwork would be any good and a single step wrong would hit his score hard. With the snipers down Lancer could maybe take out the tank, but there was a reason why he was a shock trooper and not a sharp shooter. Besides, the tank might stay on Lancer as a target as he was the only one who could do real damage to it and let the regulars chase the poor scout around until he made a mistake. 
Seeing the massive disadvantage of the situation, Mark did the only thing he could. He ducked down and began to sprint toward the exit. Leaving the simulation would cut him out of any profit for it being beaten, but also not hold him accountable for failures after the escape.