“Well it only seems fair that you give me odds, seeing you are a big bad Inquisitor and this is my first day at the range,” I suggested. Hadrian considered it.

“You want odds on a bet we haven’t set yet?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Five to one,” I suggested. He snickered.

“What if it it something that doesn't scale?” he asked. I made a show of thinking it over.

“Ten to one,” I countered. He laughed and threw up his hands. “Fine ten to one. What weapon did you want to use.” I picked up a Magistratum riot gun and hefted it, feeling the weight of its black polymer steel barrel.

“Thats a shotgun, you can hardly miss with one at twenty five meters,” he pointed out.  I grinned impishly.

“ Got to make the odds work for me,” I suggested. Hadrian stared at me for a minute and then rolled his eyes.

“Fine, you go first,” he suggested. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I sighted down the barrel towards the dummy, pulling the weapon in tight as I had been shown with the autogun. I breathed in, breathed out, breathed halfway in and made the iron teeth of the sight line up and then pulled the trigger. The blast of it slammed me in the shoulder and dropped me on my rump on the deck. I managed to hang onto the gun and keep my fingers off the trigger but my shoulder throbbed in protest. The dummy lit up were a half dozen of the pellets had peppered its flesh.

 

“Well that is one to me,” I muttered, levering myself up and massaging my shoulder.