Freyr followed the man along the width of the room, past soldiers in combat with each other or against AI. He finally stopped in front of a set of smaller, empty, rectangular boxes in the corner of the room. The guy hit a few settings on the interface before turning to her. “Okay, Doc. This one is easy; target shooting. There’ll be a rack of standard issue weapons in there - choose one and the instructor will walk you through firing it safely. Enjoy.” He gave Freyr a wink and started the simulation before walking away again.

Freyr stepped inside the box and her surroundings totally changed. She was now in what she could only describe as a firing range. A row of booths looked out on a long empty space with targets at the end. Behind the booths, a dizzying array of weapons sat on a rack. After quite a lot of deliberation, Freyr asked the instructor what weapon a civilian might carry. The AI directed her to a small, plain pistol. She decided to try that.

The calm instructor's voice told her how to check the weapon was ready to fire, how to stand and how to aim. It also politely informed her that she was eligible for an upgrade to her implant network that would allow a superimposed crosshair. Apparently it increased lifetime accuracy by 35% on average. Freyr politely declined and began shooting. The pistol spat tiny bolts of energy down range, but very few hit their target. The instructor soon generated a physical avatar that adjusted Freyr’s posture and she started hitting a couple more.

Freyr quite enjoyed the satisfying thud her bolts made as they impacted the back stop. For a while it was just her, the targets and her pistol. That is until a message came through on comms. Freyr supposed it could be one of her team requesting her presence, but it wasn’t. It was from Vreta, asking to run a few thoughts by her. She answered in the affirmative and pinged her location over. She was about to resume shooting when a nearby voice made her jump. “Who was that?” 

Freyr whirled round and found Agent 595 leaning against the back wall of the sim-box. “The person you were messaging. Was it Vreta’Sori?” Freyr hesitated, caught completely off guard. “Hi.” 595 smiled. “It seems you and he are firm friends now. That’s nice. May I join you?” Freyr nodded. The agent selected a heavy assault rifle from the rack and walked into the booth next to her. “Sorry i missed you yesterday. There was still a lot to organise and I gather you got an early night.” The targets began disappearing all along the width of the firing range as 595 hit them; a deafening staccato of energy pulses filled the box.

“You’re his mark, Freyr. We’re certain of that now.” Freyr stopped shooting, lowering her pistol. “What do you mean?” She asked, confused. 595’s head poked around the side of the booth, a grave look on her face.