Well that didn't take long.
Derek, let's talk.
[Private to Vesper and Bond separately] Thank you.
[Private to Bruce]So where's my apology?
[Private to Ivy] Nice.
[Private to Spock, Prefect, and Shego separately]You make it through the port okay?
[He slept, for the record.]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]
to spam
spam
Ever been in here before?
spam
Never had a reason to until right now.
spam
I'd say it's fairly standard, but I'm not sure what passes for standard in your time. Stationary and moving targets, paper with target rings.
spam
It really is the stone age here.
spam
Just poorly equipped. I've been asking after a full bore range. [His shrug says he's not expecting it even remotely. Inside, he pulls his Walther out, turns off the safety, checks the clip, and glances at Kirk's phaser.]
Here, [he says, holding the gun out butt first for the other man to take.] Sights are on the top, align these two points. [He gestures to the spokes at the top of both ends of the gun.] And squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it.
[He leaves it at that; it's not like Kirk's inexperienced, and he really hopes their weapons aren't that different.]
spam
From what he's read, you're more like to live from a bullet, depending on where it hits you.
He hands it over, and takes the gun, turning it over and inspecting it for a moment.]
Same with the phaser. If you shoot yourself with it, it'll just knock you out right now.
spam
Useful, [he says dryly.] It'll be slightly messier if you shoot yourself. [Just drawling that because duh, but he keeps himself entertained.
Going to the shooting stall
or whatever the hell they're actually called, Bond raises his arms in a shooting stand, left hand gripping the butt of the phaser, right poised on the trigger.] It's light.[Then he says nothing, just zeroes in on the target like a proper marksman, keeping his limbs still, locked, muscles in his hand tightening until he squeezes the trigger and gets a solid bullseye in the center of the paper target.]