An invisible hailstorm ripped through space from the hull of The Volta. The deadly energy bolts quickly converged on the flanking hoard of enemy boarders. Roughly 2,000 body-armored soldiers were approaching The Volta from port as the main assault raged to the fore of the vessel.

The Nestors were expertly picking off the attackers with trained efficiency. Tara had tallied 17 kills thus far. No misses. Her prey floated aimlessly in space, their suits ruptured by her shots.

The computer highlighted a target. Her visor gave range and closure data. Tara shifted her rifle and fired. Seconds later, the orange targeting halo disappeared as the shot fell home and the enemy died.

The halo shifted and Tara adjusted. She squeezed her trigger again. The rifle recoiled. The halo disappeared. That’s 19.

The targeting halo adjusted again. Tara retrained her rifle again. She breathed. She squeezed. Recoil. The halo shif……

No it hadn’t.

The target was still glowing. Tara had, unthinkably, missed.