Nancy was returning to the clearing, carrying weapons. Romy smiled as she realised the girl had been retrieving the guns from a hiding spot. She handed Romy a small one, calling it a “baby gun”.

She passed another small gun to the others, who began squabbling over it. Nancy kept the largest for herself.

Romy studied the weapon and quickly found the safety. She slid the magazine out and pointed it into the bush while she pumped the rack a few times to empty any forgotten rounds. She snapped the magazine back into place and raised the weapon, staring down the front sight. It was foreign to the battler guns and a lot tinier, but had the same parts overall.

She looked up and found Nancy and the crew gaping at her. “What?” she asked.

Nancy held out her own gun. “Jeez, looks like you should use the AK-103 instead.”

Romy shook her head as she studied the much larger weapon. “I’ll begin with this baby arm. Shooting battler guns in space and shooting on Earth will be very different. I imagine the wind and light will take a little getting used to. Not to mention the pressure and temperature.” She looked around, studying the environment with interest.

“Did you just calmly insert ‘battler guns in space’ into a sentence?” a boy asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “That is freakin’ cool.” The boy slammed a fist in the air, making Romy smile.

They couldn’t understand that the opposite was true. Everything here was “freakin’ cool”.

“Yeah?” grunted Nancy. “I’m just thinking about 'baby arms' and feeling freaked out.”

The freckled girl guided Romy in front of the tree with the closest target.

“I don’t really know how weird this will be to adjust to. So I guess you should just give it a go.” The girl shrugged.

Romy held the gun out with two hands and let Nancy adjust her grip. The battler guns were gripped on both sides; the shooter sat in a rotating chair, which allowed them to swing the weapon and follow the Critamal ships. It was odd to have her hands encircling the weapon—awkward. But Nancy was adamant it would get better.

Romy studied the target. There was a slight breeze, and she had no idea what gravity would do to the bullet’s trajectory. But there was no point in trying to guess what would happen. She squeezed the trigger.

Laughter trickled behind her.

Nancy was grinning. “Hey, at least you got the same tree . . . or maybe the roots.”

Romy gave her a sheepish look. Her shot had gone straight to the bottom of the tree. She pumped the rack and raised the gun again, tilting it upwards.

She pulled the trigger.

“You got the board,” Nancy said. “Hey, not bad!” She turned to the others, who were cheering. “You see that? I taught the sky girl everything I know.”