Combat sims were only good for so long. Eselain knew them too well- she was in here at least once a week, every week of the year. There was not a lot new; it was very hard for a machine to recreate the human penchant for surprising another, not matter how hard the programmers tried to keep up. She wiped the sweat off her brow as she consider the CPU Level 9 Armed Combatant another time. She had limited herself to physical means only this time. No magic. The CPU, a blue silhouette of a human being, levelled its gun at her, elbow locked. It fired three quick blasts at her. Easily dodged; she knew this CPU. It liked aiming one either side of her and also straight at her. She would be unable to sidestep. She dropped into a crouch, ducking, then leapt towards the cover on her left. Back to a boulder, she waited, quietly. Usually, it would come to check on her. Then she could take out its legs, disable the arms and relieved it of its gun. One shot to the head and the simulation would reboot.
But the CPU didn’t check on her. Instead, something rolled to a stop by her hand, having made a few metallic clunking noises. She regarded it curiously, then sighed.
“Ah fuck-”
The grenade exploded. Virtual pain swept over her, intense as a furnace, before disappearing as quickly as it started. She felt normal by the time she had finished gasping. And the steppe scenery she had been fighting on had reverted to the default white walls, floor and ceiling of the sim room. Hah, they had got her. Sneaky bastards. Though it was worrying; who would have thought that the combat sim would actually cause complacency in her? It just wasn’t like real fighting anymore. Because at the end of the day, while losing could cause you pain, it still wasn’t a matter of life and death. There was no sense of urgency, no adrenaline pumping through the system. You would be safe no matter what. At least with a person, there’s an uneasiness, because you don’t know what’ll happen. A person is autonomous. That was scary in itself sometimes.
She exited the room and directed her attention to the feedback forms that were always found next to the door, a little box for them underneath. She quickly requested new scenarios- particularly guerrilla warfare in an urban setting. Simply because she wanted to try it out. In the mean time, she had a better idea for shaping up. She stretched out the strain of her last battle. She stooped down to touch her toes, feeling the pleasant protest of her muscles. Cooled down and flexed, she proceeded down the corridor.
Some of the training rooms were able to accommodate combat situations with two human users, either against each other or working as a team. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fought with an actual person, something with a conscious that wasn’t dependent on a techie. Anyway, she headed towards the lounge room at the end of the corridor which held the group sims, where people could go to beg for a partner.
The room was empty. Bother. And she was ready to storm in, throw up her hands and issue the challenge. Come have a go if you think you’re hard enough. Eselain sighed and stalked over to the sofa where she plonked herself down and put her feet up on the table. She’d just have to stick around until someone in a sufficiently violent mood decided to pop in. Then she could fight for real. They had an infirmary on Libra- what was the worst the could happen?
