Summary:Jemma gets some time in the range to recertify and is bedevilled by a new contractor. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
  |
Jemma has to check out in the Firing Range. With her new arm, things are very different and she's been having some trouble.
Putting her ear and eye protection on, the biochem looks at the weapon on the counter and grimaces. She has to really think, at the moment, before picking up anything.
"Agent Simmons!" Agent Matthews greets the woman, giving her implants a once over that he just can't help. "Getting some time in the range, I see. I'm sure you're a crack shot now." He's sort of joking but people are certainly expecting her to be 'better'.
"I am getting time in, yes. I've got to recertify …"
BRRRAAAT! BRRRAAT! BRRRAAAT!
Thats' coming from two stalls over and it doesn't sound like regular gunfire. It sounds like an electrical arc. Sort of a combination of a snap and a hiss but very rapid. There's also flashes of something. Something moving very quickly. Jemma has seen it before. Electro-plasma. It's easy to make with the right amount of energy. It's just that you usually can't hook it up to a gun.
"Who's a crack shot?" That's… oh. Jeriah. "This I have to see. Oh hey doc."
Jemma looks over at the next stall, that's an interesting sound but not so unusual down here. The engineering team are always testing out new things.
"Mister London." Matthews laughs. "I'm just talking to Agent Simmons. We haven't seen her down here since … her operation. I'm sure she's a great shot now." Which might imply that Jemma was, at best, at mediocre shot.
"I don't know Matthews. At least I can't shut both my eyes now." Jemma blushes a bit and offers a smile. It's a joke at her own expense, or two fronts.
"Mister London. That looked like an interesting weapon you're playing with. Part of your kit?" There's a certain level of reservedness that Jemma uses around Jeriah. It doesn't go unnoticed by Matthews who chuckles.
"I'll leave you two crazy kids to it. Simmons, bring your results by the office and I'll be sure they're entered on your record." beat "Mister London."
"It is. An especial part of my kit. It's powered by the core I have in my spine that I told you about earlier." The hacker-soldier places his weapon down on the counter taking care to make sure that it's always pointed downrange.
"I take it from the Agent's comments that your past performance was ordinary when it came to marksmanship? Do you think there will be an improvement? You've had some significant changes."
"It is it?" Jemma doesn't think she's seen that in action. It will certainly be interesting to, though. "How does the power transfer, then?" She doesn't pick the weapon up when he places it, just looks at the forty-five next to it. That's what she's testing out on today.
"I was passed fit for the field, Mister London and I *am* scientist. My time was not dedicated to becoming a sniper." Jemma sniffs. "You make it sound like ordinary is something less than adequate."
He didn't really but she's needling a bit.
"I don't know, to be honest. I'm not sure there should be. My implants are designed to enhance my brain, not my physical abilities. Well … except the arm but I suspect that's as much a 'side effect' as anything. Either way, we're about to find out."
"Are you going to make me self conscious while I do this? Provide a running commentary?"
"With these." Jeriah holds up his hand and shows Jemma the small patterns on them in four places. "Those are connections that somehow transfer the power to whatever I hold. Don't ask me quite how it works, it's near magic to me. I can also use them to charge my hands and put the hurt on someone, if I have to."
Jemma probably won't have trouble imagining… he's had to.
"Self conscious sounds like one of the less dangerous things that could happen while you fight but if it helps I will be very, very quiet. Until I laugh."
Smirk
Jemma takes some time to examine Jeriah's hands, her brow furrowing a little as she does. "Interesting. It must tap into the fields in your body somehow. If you're willing to drop my lab, maybe we could find out together how they work. It's not magic, it's just science we don't understand yet." She's distracted, of course she is.
And yet, Jeriah manages to draw her attention back.
"You're going to watch. Of course you are …" The biochem sighs and reaches for the weapon. Promptly crushing the grip in her agitation. "Oh …"
"Not to worry, Agent Simmons." Matthews is there. He must have been watching. "Here's a replacement. It happens all the time. Just be a little more careful." Jeriah gets a look from the agent. Is he smirking as well?
Taking a stance, a very traditional one, Jemma draws a breath and lets loose. Six shots. Five hit the target in an acceptable margin and one goes wide. At least she'd slow someone coming at her, right?
"I could… does that actually work? Science we don't yet understand. Because, you know, there's a sorcerer supreme. Or should we rename him the Scientist Supreme?" Beat. "No actually don't, that's what AIM calls their leader."
Jeriah isn't kidding about that.
When Jemma crushes the grip she can hear the face hitting palm. She can almost feel his eyes on the back of her neck. "Happens all the time does it? Bring your stance a bit wider and the put your hand on the bottom of the grip. Hold it steadier as you aim. Don't fire so fast either."
"It works for me, Mister London though there are people in WAND that might disagree with me." Jemma murmurs "For the most part though? I think so. It's an interesting philosophical question, don't you think and I'm sure the Sorcerer Supreme would take it askance should we rename his position."
And yes Jemma knows what AIM call their head honcho.
With the stream of instructions that come from the man, Jemma lets out a long breath "Is there anything else you would like to add to that list?" It's slightly tart but she does comply. "I'm still adjusting to the feel of things. My right hand is my dominant hand …" and it's been replaced by the metal monstrosity.
Six more shots, more slowly. It's better but her aim could still be better.
"I'm trying to implement your suggestion about attacking the reverbium and flushing it from my patients systems. It's slow going but I'm making headway slowly. AIM has been clever in spreading that information out, not keeping more than one piece in the puzzle in one place."
"Especially to the leader of a high school science department being run by the incoming freshmen class." Jeriah snorts. He watches as Jemma repositions, leaning on one of the structural supports as he does.
"Is it still easier to use your right hand? The real big question is which eye was your dominant eye. Is it the original or the replacement?"
Because if her dominant eye is the cybernetic one that's a potentially much bigger hurdle.
"Distributed computing and data storage is one of their strong points. Getting data out of their networks usually requires a wide spread infiltration with a lot of investment in time, and you have to be careful not to get caught. That's why my favored method is to hit their own facilities and grab as much data from their network from authorized computers as possible before they lock the compromised area out. It's crude, but it's impossible to defend against without compromising their ability to keep the data spread out."
"You're sassing me?" Jemma sounds … a little miffed. Hurt maybe.
"It's natural to use my right hand. I don't even really think about it. So yes?" The next question has her thinking. "My right eye, actually. I think. If it's my replacement I'm slightly screwed, really. That eye doesn't operate normally."
It's something she hasn't spoken about. He could probably connect to her and get the feed from the eye. Not to mention the feed from her arm as well.
"It makes sense they distribute the data. It's a little galling that the other guys do it so well, but there you have it. I suppose we just have to hit as many facilities as we can to get the data. It would help if we could find a Scientist who actually worked on this stuff."
"Did you expect me not to do this?" Jeriah's tone gets a bit more serious.
"Alright. Well. Try putting your left foot forward. You know… if you were interested… I could help you cheat…"
He lets that hang in the air for a moment. "I've got tactical programs that I run with my drones and on my own hardware. I have a hud, it tracks the aim point of your weapon. It makes it real easy. Just point and click. As long as the system knows what you're holding it'll do the rest."
"Not to offer critique? Oh no, I expected that. I even expected to hear the laugh track as you cracked your jokes at my expense." Jemma sighs and moves her feet as he directs.
"My scores are enough to have me recertified. I don't need to cheat, Mister London." She's right. They're not great but as she said earlier, she's not a marksman. "Do you think it will help me improve though? Most of this is muscle memory and coordination. Coordination isn't a problem, well it wasn't and it won't be again in time."
"Show me, though…"
"I can modify the program to prompt you for proper stance and aim point. Let you build that muscle memory on your own…" Jeriah says quietly as he connects.
"Alright there you… the hell is this interface. Hang on, I'm going to clean this up. Okay. There's that. And that. Kill these processes you don't need them. Superfetch? The hells?"
Eventually a hud flickers to life over Jemma's vision. And she can see it. A prompt in the lower right corner of her vision. The aim point, almost like a video game. An ammunition count - simple to link to her hearing and count the shots. It's fairly basic and yet so advanced.
"Who knew that first person shooters had so much military application?"
"That might be go-" Jemma falls silent as she feels Jeriah connect. It's invasive and in many ways … intimate. He's hooking right into her brain. Her memories, her thoughts. She's going to have to school those. "Hey… don't close down things you don-"
"Oh wow. That's … clearer." Maybe she'll let him poke around more later. But not now.
He gets the feed from her arm and her eye. The biochem shaking her head a little as the hud appears "That's just weird. I was never very good a FPS's, so here's go. I use the target … "
Experimentally, she moves the weapon, watching the target track over the hud. "OK, so now … I fire …"
"Yes no you fire. Careful. You'll have to control that recoil or you'll need to re-aim every time. Well, you do anyway but you should be able to get off a few shots before you have to… yes. There you go. See. Exactly where you pointed it."
Jeriah pauses and smirks. "Dirty secret is the gun always shoots exactly where you point it but most people are not very good at telling where that is."
"You can't be in my head all the time though." Jemma murmurs, very focussed on getting this right. "This is … strange. How much of my mind are you getting, might I ask?" It's interesting that a Scientist, a squint, wants to be in the field.
Many scientists end up in the field after an event. They're needed then to collect data and analyse it. Few are like Jemma, though, who goes out with missions. Even when that's against the recommendations of other agents on her team.
"No I can't but I can upload these to your working memory. If I can find it…" Jeriah mutters poking around her system as he does. "Ah there it is… … … … … why is it full of math?"
Honestly, what has she got in here. There's hundreds of equations and some numbers calculated out to thirty or forty decimal places. "You know there are computers for this sort of work right?"
Yes. There are. One of them is in her head.
"I can get a lot of it but I'm deliberately not doing much. If I wanted to get into your head though it's this access port right here…" He pokes it. She can feel it.
"It's full of math because that's what I do, Mister London." Jemma's miffed again. Jeriah knows how to do that, it seems. "And there are, but when you can work them out in your head, it's much better. Keeps the mind spry and all that." And yes, there's definitely things to help with that in her head now.
"Hey…" Jeriah pokes at memory and triggers it.
It's a younger Simmons, in a blazer with a SHIELD ID. She can't be more than eighteen, maybe nineteen, entering a SHIELD Directors office. As the memory plays out, the Director offers her a position on their team - a field team. Jeriah can't mistake the europhia, excitement and trepidation she felt. But she was over the moon with the offer.
"Yes, I can see you found it. Now that you've done that, what are you going to do?"
That's an interesting memory. Jeriah sees it as Jemma does. It's hard to tell from the way he's leaning on the wall but he might relax just a little bit. It's humanizing really, to see her so young and eager. How things have gone for her subsequently… well…
"Mmm? What am I going to do? Oh I figured I'd install a virus and log off."
He wouldn't, would he? That's got to be him sassing her again. Kelly would be able to tell if he did that, easily. Of course she might detect the worry that thought induces as well.
There's many humanising moments for Jemma despite how she looks now. He could poke and prod and find some. Some she keeps very close to her, things she clings to when times are tough and lonely.
The anxiety does peak. She let him do this, trusting the contractor to not abuse the privilege. Maybe Jemma is just too trusting. "You wouldn't … " there's a sharp look she gives to the man with those words, as she tries to work out if she could actually protect herself.
If he's not careful, she might crush another weapon in her agitation.
Jeriah actually rolls his eyes a little when she gives him that look. "Do you think I'd tell you if I were going to do that? No, you're safe. Relax. I only hacked you the first time because I thought I had to. I'm calibrating your HUD to your biometrics instead of mine. Otherwise it's going to think you're several inches taller and about forty pounds heavier."
Jeriah IS a rather solid guy. Tall, but very solid. Comes of being in his profession, doubtless.
"I'm going to move the target further back." There's controls for that. "Put three in the center. Let's see how you do."
"Yes, I do. I think you delight in razzing me and making me panic. You've already caused me to be shutdown once." Jemma sniffs again. More memories surface, these ones of terror situations. Ones where the biochem was taunted and driven, in situations not too dissimilar to this - except, you know, Jeriah is a friendly.
"Can't have that now, can we? Something thinking I'm too tall." She is on the petite side, after all. "Or too heavy." That's said dryly. "You're the type of guy who see's a button and thinks he has to press it, aren't you?"
With the target shifted backwards, the biochem sights the pistol again, follows the target on the hud and squeezes the trigger.
Once. Twice. Three times. Letting a slow breath out between each one.
"That felt … better."
"You definitely don't want a program running in your own head to think that you're taller or heavier than you are. and yes. Buttons are for pushing. Why else have them?" Good lord this man is flippant. And he's still smirking.
"Told you it'd be better. Now. Reload and see if you can put seven more shots there. Take your time. I think you're all calibrated."
At LEAST he is not going for the 'crowding up behind her, hands on her hands' sort of touchy feely method of teaching and flirting at the same time.
Would that be worse? Hard to say. He's awful sassy as it stands.
"Not all buttons are for pushing all the time, Mister London." Jemma sighs. Yes, he's flippant and he smirks. She's learning this. "You have them for they *need* to be pushed."
It takes a moment to reload the weapon - that takes a bit of work for the biochem as she negotiates the new hand - and Jeriah can feel her concentration as she tries not to crush things. Surely this gets easier, doesn't it?
Is it better? The not crowding and guiding? He's in her head and getting glimpses of some fairly personal moments at times.
Seven more shots, evenly timed. She's adjusted to the hud fairly quickly. "What it's like using it in the field?" There's an action room at the end of this row. Eventually, Jemma will have to check out in that as well.
"I'll show you. Hang on…"
Jemma sees a little picture-in-picture window pup up in the corner of her vision. She's seeing what Jeriah sees now which means she can see the back of her own head. That's a little freaky. But soon enough he's moving to the stall next to her. His own HUD initializes and then…
BRT. BRT. BRRAT BRRAT BRRAT!
That odd carbine of his snaps off five short bursts in rapid succession as he switches from target to target in rapid succession, laying the crosshairs over them and pulling the trigger before moving on. It takes less than three seconds to engage and 'kill' all five.
"It's like that."
"Wait. what…" Jemma jumps as the picture in picture window appears. "How on earth do you deal with all this noise." This from the biochem that has math in her head to 40 decimal places. It's disorienting for a moment but she adjust soon enough.
"Oh. Good. I really hope you don't expect me to perform that well." She finally grouses. "You like to show off, don't you?"
"I wear earplugs." Jeriah snorts. "Or do you mean the visual noise? You get used to it. I don't have it up all the time. Just when I need it and then only the information I need. If you want noise…"
Jeriah pulls up a compass onto Jemma's view. And then a satellite map. And then a copy of a good book. And then the instructions for operating her pistol. And then a window for browsing the web…
And then he closes them down before she can squawk too much.
"Showing off? Is it showing off to show you what I can do when you ask to see it?" He winks. Is he showing off? Yeah, a little.
"You know damn well what I meant." Somewhere, there's a young young Jemma standing with her hands on her hips. Not this Jemma though, she just gives Jeriah a flat look - or she would if he could see the look she was giving him. Right now it's at the divider between their stalls.
"No, no. I don't want noise … " She blinks at the book "The Collected Speeches? That's a surprise." The browser window though has her scoffing "And that's more like I expected …"
"I don't recall asking to show me *everything*, Mister London. Normally that requires dinner and dancing first."
He might see it anyway since he can apparently read her biometrics which includes what position she's in. Jeriah puts his weapon on safe and sets it down to come back over. He's grinning like a Cheshire cat when he comes back around into view.
"What makes you think I HAVE shown you everything? I have standards after all, Doc."
Oh he MEANT that to be flippant and… well not to sting but he seems to enjoy provoking a reaction from her.
"You enjoy that, don't you?" Jemma sighs, glaring at the cheshire when he appears. How did she know? He hasn't taken that picture in picture in down yet, has he? "Bedevilling me."
Standards. She snorts.
"Yes I can see what your standards are…"
Another sniff and the biochem turns back to the range, loading the pistol and bringing up a new target. She'll practice some more.
"Thank you, Mister London. This helps a lot."
"My standards are executing the mission, killing the enemy and coming home alive. Or at least… as many people coming home alive as possible." The Picture in Picture goes away so she's not weirdly watching herself from two different perspectives. That would probably be headache inducing.
"But you're quite welcome." Jeriah shrugs behind her not that she can see it. "Gives me a chance to bedevil you as you put it, and anyway it was the least I could do after hacking you like that."
"So its not dinner and dancing then?" Jemma asks as she loads up again. "I just have to take you out on a mission and get you home safely?"
Her shoulders tighten slightly at the mention of being hacked. That hadn't been nice at all. And he'd tried twice!
"That's what would induce you to show me everything?"
She's just about done here. These scores can be recorded on her file. A few more sessions and they'll recertify her. Not that it stops her going out on missions.
"A very polite request and a glass of good wine?" That's a somewhat teasing answer. "Sort of depends on what you mean by everything. And as for getting me home safely, why don't we work on you getting you home safely first. After all one of us is bullet proof, Miss Bionic Woman."
"I mean I've offered to show you a lot haven't I? It's not every british biochemist with multiple PHD's that I offer to let crack my back open and take a look inside."
"This is true, Mister London." She'd been teasing him a bit. Trying to gain her equilibrium as he sniped at her. "Did you need to anything more with that software, or are we done?" If she'd meant anything else, she's not saying.
"I'm not Jamie Somers, either." Though he's probably not too far wrong.
"Pity that. Lindsay Wagner was quite the hearthrob in her day." Jeriah has seen the film. Of COURSE he has seen the film. Or maybe he just pulled up that info with his implants because, well, if you CAN do that why would you not? The collected knowledge of humanity at your fingertips.
"No that's all I need to do with that. You're calibrated and you should be able to switch that off and on." It's good to learn to shoot over iron sights, though with a tactical tool like that, why would you not use it in real life situations? Whatever the choice Jemma makes, it's there for her to use.
"So was Lee Majors." IS all Jemma has to say on that. It was a TV show, The Bionic Woman. She might have seen a few episodes. Reruns.
"Alright, well I'm going to lodge these with Matthews and get some lunch I can eat my lab. Thank you again, Mister London and sorry for interrupting your own practice." Offering the Agent a smile, Jemma turns to head off.
"No trouble, Crack Shot." Jeriah grins. She can see text appear in her field of view briefly. It's odd, just having type written text float in front of her. Says 10/10, would hack again.
Then Jeriah disconnects. He COULD stay connected but someone would probably kick him out eventually.
Or just kick him.