Or more accurately, struggled to keep the jittery targeting bracket where it needed to be, and wished with all her might that something would hit as she sprayed fire at the enemy ship. Which was more complicated than it seemed, since she couldn't just aim the weapons where the cruiser was and fire, she had to aim them where it was going to be when the weapons reached it and hope she'd predicted correctly.
And that was more complicated than it seemed, since the vessel kept buzzing around infuriatingly like an irritating fly that just wouldn't go away and was impossible to swat. Not to mention the sensitive targeting systems required delicate precision, while her fumbling fingers were more like small sledgehammers.
In spite of her boyfriend's masterful piloting, they'd already been blown up twice as she struggled to hit a nimble ship in space, while he struggled to keep them alive long enough for her to do so. Which was turning out to be a very, very long time.
She had a better appreciation for one of the first lessons he'd ever taught her, not all that long after she'd woken up on the ship as a Blank Slate: the lesson about how a good pilot and gunner made a devastating combination, while either one performing poorly made the other's job that much harder.
Lana had understood it in theory, but in practice she now really saw what the young man had meant. The fact that she couldn't hit a small moon from point blank range meant the other ship didn't have to rely on evasive maneuvers nearly as much, which meant their gunner was free to line up more accurate shots that even Dax had trouble staying out of the way of.
Conversely, if she was the one piloting then her erratic flying, completely uncoordinated with her boyfriend's attempts to hit the target, would make even his legendary accuracy suffer. To the point where the other ship would once again be under less pressure to evade, allowing them to fire more accurately.
It really put into perspective just what a work of art Dax and Aiden working together was. They seemed to instinctively know what the other was going to do, and even during the most wild evasive maneuvers her boyfriend could stay on target, while the captain could always trust that the other ship would be too busy evading to get a good bead on the Last Stand.
Lana hoped that someday she and Dax could have that same intimate coordination; at the moment she almost felt jealous of Aiden.
Although not too jealous, considering what the poor man was suffering since Ali got her Caretaker upgrade. Lana honestly didn't get his problem, since the companion seemed just the same as usual, aside from having access to more up-to-date information and improved skills. If anything, Aiden should be happy that the impossibly beautiful woman had understood what he needed enough to go against his stubborn insistence on holding her back.
Then again, Dax seemed to feel the exact opposite, and now held the adult companion in extreme suspicion. And for that matter, Lana had to admit that if her boyfriend had suddenly done something like undergone a new regimen of Ishivi conditioning, without even bothering to tell her, or for that matter after she'd specifically told him not to, would she react any better?
The captain might pretend like he was a bitter, universe weary husk, and Ali was just his sex robot, but Lana had seen clearly the strong feelings the man had for the adult companion. After all, she recognized many of those feelings in herself, for Dax.
The other ship in the simulation finally got them, swanning along on an infuriatingly straight trajectory and pouring leisurely fire at them once its pilot realized Lana didn't have an icicle's chance in a supernova of hitting them. That came after a few frustrating minutes of her emptying the railgun's magazine into empty space, which only sent the hyper dense slugs zooming merrily off into the void, the chances of them hitting anything on their eternal journey through the cosmos literally astronomically low.
She would've liked to pretend her shots came somewhere near the target, but at times they weren't even going in the right direction.
Frustrated beyond words and resigned to the inevitable loss, Lana let her hands drop off the firing controls as enemy fire finished disabling their ship's vital systems, then got to work on the kill shot. Moments later the full immersion recreation of the Last Stand blew up around them, the ship's bridge fading to a white void.
“I know nobody likes a quitter,” she said as she slumped back in the weapons station's seat, “but I think I've had enough for the moment.”
Her boyfriend nodded, reaching across the vacant workstation hanging in the emptiness between them to pat her shoulder. “I'd say we got in a good training session. Maybe we can hit the gym next, do some exercises to hone our reflexes.”
She wouldn't have called anything about the last few hours “good”. And now, feeling wrung out as a rag from the constant tension of trying her hardest, the last thing she wanted was exercise.
Or at least, not that sort of exercise. “I'd rather hit the bed,” she said, giving him an impish look. He was now mostly healed from the worst of the burns he'd suffered, and had been as eager as she was to get back to their previous intimacy.
Dax snorted, one of those shows of emotion from him that was becoming more common the longer they were together. “You know I'll never pass up the opportunity. But I know how much you want to learn this, and I want to be a help in that, not a distraction.”
Lana did her best not to sulk. “Fine, gym it is. But you'd better make it up to me
