Specialists like Chey tend to be careful with newcomers. They don’t just hand
over loaded weapons. Too easy to kill the storekeeper and rob the store. Chey 
locks one of the SMGs into a wooden mount fixed to a bench facing the far end of 
the room. Then he hands Tikki a clip. Tikki fits the clip to the weapon, snaps 
the bolt, grips the grip and squeezes the trigger. Five rounds blast through the brown paper 
target hanging at the end of the room. The thunderous report, magnified by the 
confined space, briefly sets Tikki’s ears to ringing.