Thread: Special Tactics and Training Building

NameNickname Joseph Jakosik Irish Statistics MUS Fair AIM Great FIT Fair INT Great CS Good CHM Mediocre Attire T- Shirt, Jeans, Sneakers, Hat Weapons Beretta M9A1 Location Shooting Range Tagging Anyone Take it you two are out of luck with friends? Irish nodded, begrudgingly. I did have a friend in Sweden who was interested, but after his first match, he couldn't take another. He looked at the other two. Not that he couldn't take the pressure, but he... took to it a bit too much. I had him taken out, both for his safety and mine. Then there was my friend in Florida, who was a hell of a shot, but he backed down when I offered to start something up. Which is understandable, he's finally found his niche now that SimTech's popped up. Irish recieved his kit back and nodded in thanks, before proceeding to take it apart. The shots were still off, it was either something within the gun or he was getting that tiny bit of rust on his shoulders. He didn't like getting rusty. Then there were some of my friends back in Phoenix, He said, the fully disassembled pistol laying before him. But they turned me down too. Had doubts about the safety of the professional league SimTech rounds rather than the MilSim paintball circuit. Admittedly, I have such doubts myself, but until something better comes along, Irish picked up the trigger assembly and looked at it closely. Than I'll deal with it. He heard the swear from the man next to him, looking over at his target. He had seen them fire. He had seen similar shooters, with similar results at a gun range when they didn't get as accurate as they were hoping them to be. Groupings were not exactly... bad. Hell, they were great. But... It was none of his business to pry. It was none of his business to pry. It was none of his- It could be the rifling. 'Oh God Dammit.' Irish thought to himself. Either it's the positioning of the rifling, in which it could be adjusted, or it's that your Five-seveN has been firing too many SimTech Rounds, in which you may need to get a new barrel. Irish pulled out an old gun barrel. Correction. It looked like it was an old gun barrel, if it had met a sledge hammer. It had visible cracks all along the length, and the rifling inside was deteriorated as if acid had been peppered on the inside. SimTech slugs mess with the rifling still. Doesn't degrade them as much anymore since the third beta, but it does weaken the metal and it does degrade the rifling, unless proper maintenance is used. Irish looked at his own weapon before putting it back together. There wasn't much wrong with it, it was him. If I were you, I'd go see a gunsmith, check the barrel. If it's good to go, then you can mix up a small batch of FauxMinoRep-Oil with a shot of the real stuff and bacon grease, He looked at the man. The enzymes in the bacon grease act a little bit like stem cells with the MinoRep stuff, not making more, but making it more adaptable to it's purpose, which is protecting against the deterioration of SimTech. It doesn't repair like it says, but it will save you a few hundred dollars to get a new barrel. Just use it sparingly, you'll wanna use it for your other weapon, if you have one. Irish sighed, looking at his reassembled pistol. He was itching for at least some action. He knew a small team was coming in half an hour or so, an advanced level training match, and he was itching for a fight. Besides, four freelancers? Maybe they'd win. You guys wanna go a run against a team coming in thirty minutes or so for an advanced practice match? He looked around, looking at the two girls - What were their names? Ven-something and Ari... maybe... The other one was Loy-something, he knew it. It wouldn't hurt to dust off the cobwebs we all know we're feeling, and who knows? We're all looking for teams... Well, I don't know about you, He said, nodding towards the other man. But maybe a quad of freelancers can win against some Advance punks? He looked around. There was a reason why they didn't know their names yet, they hadn't introduced themselves. Well that was rude of me, Irish said, before stepping forward and giving a theatrical and... rather uncharacteristic bow. Quite the dork he was. Joseph Jakosik, Engineer Extraordinaire, at your service, He looked up. But everyone calls me Irish for some odd reason. He smiled, standing straight up. I apologize for not introducing myself before, but I didn't have an idea quite like this before either.