Pinwheel Remastered

"The first configuration is a miniaturized railgun, it accelerates a tungsten slug using electromagnets. It requires a battery pack to power the magnets, and a magazine to feed it ammo."

He popped open the hinged rail on the top of the rifle, ejecting the receiver and replacing it with one that was contained within a blue housing, snapping it shut again. He ejected the magazine and stowed it in a pouch on his belt, then withdrew what looked like a magazine with a tumorous growth. It was the same size and shape as the mag had been, but it was colored yellow rather than black, and on one end was a large canister sporting the same blue housing as the second receiver. He slotted it into the magazine well, with the cylindrical canister protruding.

Once again, he shouldered the weapon, and this time there was an electrical whir as a bolt of blue-green energy shot from the barrel. It flew down the range, disintegrating the paper target and leaving a dark smear in the ballistic gel. I wrinkled my nose as the smell of ozone drifted over to us.

"By swapping the receiver and loading the XMR with a plasma containment canister, it can be converted into a plasma rifle. Using the same battery and the same electromagnets, it fires magnetically-contained, super-heated gas at the enemy. This is especially useful for taking out Bug shields," he explained. "The stopping power and versatility of this platform is unparalleled by conventional weapons, but there is one caveat, and that's overheating. The coils on the barrel will start to glow red after sustained fire, so pace yourselves, or bring an extra barrel if you're expecting to be firing in full auto. Whatever you do, don't fucking touch the coils without protection until you're sure that they've cooled."

We followed him as he made his way toward the back of the range, where there were more shelves stocked with all manner of attachments, along with wooden crates that likely contained more of the same.

"Your assignment today is to build a weapon that's suited to your personal needs and physiology. Of course, those needs may change dramatically depending on your mission when the time comes to actually field these weapons, but today we're just going to get to grips with the weapon system." He gestured to the shelves and crates. "You have everything that you need right here. Flash hiders, scopes, barrels of varying lengths, laser sights, grips, battery packs, magazines, stocks in numerous shapes and designs. All of the components that you'll need to build a weapon that is ergonomic and comfortable for you to fire. Krell might want larger drum magazines and heavier barrels, humans might prefer a lighter configuration with a forward grip and a red dot sight for faster target acquisition. Don't be afraid to experiment. Remember, you cannot make the weapon better or worse, only more or less suited to your needs."

He dismissed us, and everyone fanned out, eager to get started on their designs. The humans rushed off to pick a frame from the rack, sifting through the different attachments, while the Krell lumbered away to find some larger frames. I was excited to see what they would come up with, giant sniper rifles maybe, or perhaps light machine guns. I was thinking of something a little more conservative, similar to the caseless assault rifles that I had trained with back in boot camp. We hadn't had any railguns, but the same principles probably applied. Controlled bursts, with low recoil would be the way to go.

I noticed that the Borealans were huddled off to one side, muttering to each other. Raz left the group, marching over to Vasiliev, and I rolled my eyes as I recognized the expression on her face. What grievance could they possibly have this time?

"With all due respect, Staff Sergeant," she began. "We have brought our own weapons from Borealis, the finest that Elysian gunsmiths could provide. My father, the Patriarch, personally commissioned our-"

Vasiliev cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"You have your orders, Raz. You are to familiarize yourselves with Coalition weapons platforms."

"But, Staff Sergeant, I-"

"Tell me, Raz, how is the UNN supposed to provide you with ammunition and replacement parts for weapons that we don't manufacture? Unless your weapons can chamber standard UNN tungsten slugs, those guns are not to leave your shuttle. Is that understood?"

Raz looked angry, but she nodded and returned to her pack.

***

After a few hours of trial and error, everyone seemed to have figured out how they wanted their XMR set up. Vasiliev walked up and down the range as he watched the recruits fire their weapons, the loud cracks of railguns and the electrical buzz of plasma ringing out.

"Every time that you empty a mag or a canister, I want to see you swap out the receiver," he yelled over the din. "Make a habit of it, starting right now."

I was having a lot of fun, the XMR was not too different from the weapons that I had trained with on Earth. It certainly seemed to be an evolution of those designs, rather than something completely alien, even if it used a dramatically different means of firing. It couldn't really be called a rifle, as there was no rifling in the barrel, and it had more in common with coilguns than railguns in terms of its outward appearance. When I asked about it, Vasiliev had told me that the internal mechanism worked by using a rail system to launch a slug out of the receiver before it was captured and accelerated by the magnetic fields in the barrel. Theoretically, the weapon could be fired without a barrel at all, but the length and number of coils determined the velocity. Even so, it was a whole mess of fun to shoot.

I had tweaked mine for low recoil, and I was already enamored with my weapon, stopping just short of giving it a name. I had gone for a medium-length barrel with enough copper coils to ensure a good amount of stopping power, along with a two-times magnification sight, with ergonomic grips and a nice padded stock to help control the kick. I fired it in burst mode, hitting the paper targets dead-center with excellent grouping.

The Krell who occupied the booth beside me seemed to be enjoying himself too. His large frame was equipped with a drum magazine that must be able to hold a good two hundred slugs, his grip sticking out horizontally from its mounting point on the barrel. He had a heavy gun shield and a wicked bayonet, cutting the targets into shreds with bursts of fire that made the coils on his barrel glow red-hot. I couldn't tell if he was grinning, or if that was just the way his teeth looked.

The Borealans were not doing so well. The modular design of the guns seemed to overwhelm them, and their shots were landing wide of their targets. Based on their complaints, which were conveniently voiced in English so that their displeasure could be heard by everyone, I had surmised that Borealan rifles were somewhat similar to those used by humans in the latter years of the nineteenth century. Some kind of large-bore, breech-loading rifles with a massive kick, positively archaic by modern standards. They had overspecialized, failing to train with anything other than their traditional weapons, putting them at a disadvantage as a result.

Raz complained especially loudly, voicing her disapproval and making sure that Vasiliev could hear her. The rifle that she had built was an abomination. She had used a heavy barrel that was packed with coils, but with no counterbalance, it only served to throw off her aim. It might have been more manageable if she had intended to use it with a bipod, but instead, she was using a folding grip that was entirely unsuited to the task. The magnification on her scope was far too high for this range, and her choice of stock was all wrong.

I watched as she braced it against her shoulder, closing one eye as she aimed carefully, then fired. She absorbed the kick well enough, but her aim was way off, the slug piercing the paper a good inch from where she had intended. She lowered the weapon, baring her teeth as she hissed angrily.

I might have given her some pointers, had she not made my life hell for the last few days. Instead, I enjoyed watching her flounder, struggling to suppress my smile. I felt a hand on my shoulder suddenly, looking back to see Vasiliev standing behind me.

"Excellent shooting trainee, you've taken to the XMR platform like a duck to water. This is exactly what I had hoped to see. Raz!" he called, turning toward the alien. She swiveled her head in our direction, scowling at us. "Why don't you take some pointers from Stanley here?"

I grinned at her, and she glowered back at me. Boy, if looks could kill...

***

We stayed at the range for most of the day, drilling with the XMRs until we had mastered the basics of their operation and design. The Borealans had to remain behind while the rest of us were dismissed, they needed special tutoring on how to operate the guns. The humans and Krell, on the other hand, were now proficient with the rifles. Each one of us had managed to build his own personalized weapon, and we chatted about the finer points of our designs as we made our way along the torus.

We headed straight to the recreation building, intending to celebrate with some games and drinks. I had been enjoying a game of pool with one of the Krell when the main door of the building slid open, the pack of surly Borealans filing in one after the other. Their ears were flat, and their tails were drooping, their eyes darting about suspiciously. They looked embarrassed and angry, just like Raz had the previous night when I had suggested that she was only participating in the program because of her father's connections.

I caught her eye, and she made a beeline for me, stalking across the room with murderous intent. I gripped my pool cue in my hands, fearing that I might need to use it as a weapon.

"So you think it's funny, do you?" she demanded as she glared down at me.

"Do I think what is funny?" I replied.

"Your stupid, plastic toy guns, that's what. You've used them before, haven't you? You think you can show me up? Did you put Vasiliev up to it?" She advanced on me, and I drew back, skirting around to the other side of the pool table so that she couldn't get into clawing range. She was royally pissed off this time.

"I didn't do anything," I protested, "and I've never picked up an XMR before today. Don't blame me for your failure to adapt."

She bared her teeth in a snarl, scattering the billiard balls with a vicious swipe of her furry hand. The entire room had gone quiet now, watching our argument, unsure of whether they should intervene.

"If that idiot had let me use my own rifle," she continued, "I would have made you look like a blind kitten. It makes no sense that we aren't allowed to use the weapons that we brought with us. Instead, they're making us use those stupid, plastic pieces of shit. They're not made for Borealans, they're made by humans."

Her packmates nodded their heads in approval as if that explained their shortcomings.

"The Krell had no problems using them," I shot back, "it's only you that has a problem."

She glared at me, then at the Krell who was standing beside me, then she looked back at her pack for support. She soon realized that the whole room was staring her down. She looked lost, unsure of herself. I had never seen her like this before. She was always so confident, so brash. But now, that persona was starting to come apart at the seams.

She marched around the table, and this time I stood my ground, craning my neck to meet her gaze as she stood before me. I refused to be intimidated any longer, the room was clearly on my side.

"You made a fool out of me, tree climber," she whispered menacingly. "I won't soon forget it."

"Maybe now you'll respect human fighting prowess," I replied.

Raz snapped, raising a clawed hand to strike me. Before I even had time to flinch, the Krell who I had been playing pool with let loose a blood-curdling roar. He sprang into action, far faster and more agile than anyone would have anticipated, moving his giant body like a freight train made of scales and muscle. He crashed into Raz, throwing her to the ground with a tremendous body-slam. She went down hard, she hadn't been expecting such a reaction from the usually docile and sluggish reptiles.

Her pack rushed to back her up, but a group of humans and Krell moved to block their path, shaking their heads ominously. The Borealans, now outnumbered, bunched up and held their ground.

Raz picked herself up, unhurt, but shaken. She began to back off, smart enough to know when she had been beaten, the Borealans slowly filing out of the room in a defensive posture.

As soon as the automatic door closed behind them, the deathly silence was broken, the recreation center erupting into laughter and jeering. I gave the Krell who had steamrolled Raz in my defense an affectionate pat on his leathery thigh.

"Thanks, buddy. She might have taken my head clean off. Come on, I'll teach you to cheat at Blackjack."

He bobbed his long snout and emitted a satisfied huff.

***

When the sunlamps dimmed to simulate night, we walked back to the barracks, arriving just in time to see the dejected Borealans leaving the mess hall. We ate and chatted for a while, then went our separate ways, heading to our respective dorms to get some sleep.

I had to admit, I felt pretty good about myself. I had excelled at the range, I had stood up to Raz, and she had slipped up in front of the whole platoon. Now they would all be on guard for her antisocial behavior. The far more physically intimidating Krell were now firmly sided with the humans, the Borealans wouldn't be pushing anyone around again.

As I approached my room, I noticed that Raz was leaning against the door, her arms crossed as she stared vacantly at the floor. She must have been waiting there for a while, this did not bode well. Everyone else had already retired to their dorms, leaving the two of us alone in the empty hallway. My heart began to race as I approached her, what would she do now?

Her ears twitched, and she looked up when she noticed me. To my surprise, she smiled.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier, Stanley," she began. "Let's wipe the slate clean, start fresh. What do you say?"

She extended a clawed hand, and I took it gingerly, shaking it. Her fur was much softer and silkier than I had assumed, the fine hairs reminded me of velvet. Her fingers were almost as thick as my wrist, each one tipped with a shining talon.

Raz had called me by my real name, rather than monkey or tree climber. Had she finally come around? Had my defiance in the recreation center earned her respect? I couldn't be sure, but she wasn't trying to eat me, so that was a good start.

"Listen, Raz," I said apologetically. "I never intended for things to go this far, I never meant to embarrass you in front of everyone. I should have helped you when I saw that you were having trouble with your XMR. Maybe you wouldn't have accepted my help, but it was wrong of me to leave you high and dry like that. We're going to be living together for a while, we might be fighting together one day, you know? We have to trust each other. I really want to be friends with you."

Her fluffy tail twitched, and her smile faltered for a second. She exhaled deeply and placed a hand on my shoulder, opening the door to our dorm and steering me inside.

"Okay Stanley, let's be friends," she said as she closed the door behind us with a click.

"I really appreciate you coming around, Raz," I began. "To be honest, I was kind of anxious when I saw that you-hey, what are you doing?"

She moved across the room, shoving me aside roughly and dragging my bed in front of the door. Her biceps bulged as she heaved the heavy, metal frame with an ease that left me dumbstruck, the legs screeching on the deck. She used it to block the exit, trapping us both inside.

I began to tremble, realizing that it had all been a ploy. She had just wanted to get me in here alone with her, unable to escape. What was she planning on doing to me? I inhaled, intending to shout for help, but she closed the gap between us in the blink of an eye. She covered my mouth her furry palm, her black claws pricking my cheeks, leaning down close to look me in the eye. I watched as her feline pupils dilated into large, dark circles.

"I need you to understand something, Stanley," she said. Her voice was low and husky, perfectly level, which was somehow more intimidating than seeing her in a rage. "In my culture, social standing is very important. As the daughter of the Patriarch and the Alpha of my pack, my social standing is more important than you can fathom. I work very hard to maintain that standing, to defend my position. I am the best Borealan warrior here. I am the biggest, the fittest, the strongest. I am the highest born, the pack leader, are you following?"

I nodded frantically, wide-eyed and frightened, her hand still covering my mouth. Her fur tickled my nose, a small trickle of blood escaping where one of her claws had broken the skin on my cheek.

"When you make me look like a fool, when you embarrass me in front of everyone, I lose face. You've made me into a pariah. I've lost the respect of the other Borealans, the whole platoon has turned against me. When word of this humiliation reaches my father, and it will, I may lose his favor."

She was seething, barely controlling the rage that was building inside her, her lip twitching. I'd had no idea that her culture had such a rigid and unforgiving social system, and it went some way to explaining why Raz behaved in the outrageous way that she did. Perhaps, like with lions in a pride, standing could only be maintained through dominance games. If she wasn't constantly the loudest, most obnoxious, most confrontational member of her pack, then someone else might usurp her.

"My father might even recall me to Borealis and halt my training," she snarled, "and it's all because of you. You and your stupid monkey culture, you and your inability to submit to your betters." She looked crazed now. Her yellow eyes were wide, and her teeth were bared, her grip on my face tightening. She was lifting me, making me stand on my toes. "You took something away from me, and now I'm going to take something away from you."

She released me, letting me fall to the floor in a heap. I nursed the small cuts on my cheeks, knowing better than to shout for help.

"Are you gonna hurt me?" I mumbled, peering up at her warily.

"Oh, Stanley," she crooned. "I'm going to hurt you in ways that you'll never forget."

I crawled backward along the cold deck, knowing all too well that I couldn't escape her. She had barred the only door with a bed that was likely too heavy for me to lift, and there were no windows. She advanced on me slowly, hunched over like a predator preparing to pounce. She flexed her hooked claws in anticipation, baring her sharp fangs menacingly, her dark pupils fixed on my face. The back of my head banged against the wall where my bed had once been, I was cornered. Raz loomed over me, her shadow casting me into darkness. Was she really going to take things this far? Did she have nothing left to lose now?

She crouched, reaching out a hand and closing it around my neck, gripping me tightly enough to choke me. I gagged, clawing at her forearm in a futile attempt to break loose, my fingers finding purchase in her fur. The alien lifted me clear off the floor with only one hand, with the same ease that a human might scruff a cat, then she spun around and launched me through the air. I landed on her bunk on the far side of the room, my shoulder hitting the wall as I bounced on the mattress, a grunt of pain escaping my lips.