Slade’s veterans had a habit of getting cocky.
Years of experience did that to people.
They started believing they’d seen everything.
They stopped worrying about tests.
They assumed their reputation would carry them through anything.
One of his veterans had been especially bad lately.
Always talking.
Always bragging.
Always reminding the newer recruits how long he’d been doing this.
Then came the yearly shooting retest.
The veteran walked into the range with the confidence of a man who’d already passed.
He walked out with a failing score.
Slade stared at the results.
Then at the veteran.
“You failed.”
The man’s face tightened.
“Sir, I—”
“No.”
Slade held up the paper.
“You failed a basic shooting evaluation.”
The veteran tried to explain.
Slade wasn’t interested.
“Save it.”
The man glanced toward the other recruits.
Slade followed his gaze.
His eyes landed on one of his newer recruits.
She was a few months pregnant.
She’d been training consistently, adjusting where necessary, and refusing to use her pregnancy as an excuse to stop working within her capabilities.
Slade looked back at the veteran.
Then handed the test to her.
“Your turn.”
She stepped onto the range.
The veteran watched with a skeptical expression.
Slade stood behind them.
“Same test. Same conditions.”
She nodded silently.
The timer started.
She raised the weapon.
Her breathing stayed controlled.
Her stance adjusted naturally to accommodate her changing balance.
One shot.
Then another.
Then another.
Clean.
Precise.
Consistent.
The range went quiet.
When the final target came back, Slade looked at the score.
Perfect.
He slowly looked toward the veteran.
Then toward the pregnant recruit.
Then back at the veteran.
“You failed.”
The veteran swallowed.
“Yes, sir.”
“She passed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Slade held up the results.
“She passed with a perfect score.”
The veteran looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Slade’s expression didn’t change.
“You’ve spent the last three months telling everyone how experienced you are.”
Silence.
“Then you failed a test that she just passed while pregnant.”
The other recruits immediately looked away.
Nobody wanted to be caught enjoying this.
Slade handed the results back.
“Pathetic.”
The veteran’s shoulders dropped.
“Yes, sir.”
Slade turned toward the recruit.
She was already stepping away from the range, calm and completely uninterested in the spectacle she’d just created.
Slade looked back at his veteran.
“Maybe spend less time bragging.”
He pointed toward the range.
“And more time practicing.”
The veteran nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
Slade walked away.
Behind him, one recruit quietly muttered,
“That’s gonna hurt.”
Another whispered,
“Good.”
Slade didn’t turn around.
“Back to work.”
Everyone scattered.
The veteran remained standing there, staring at his failed score.
The lesson was painfully simple.
Experience meant nothing if you stopped maintaining your skills.
And apparently, getting humbled by a recruit who was several months pregnant made the lesson considerably more memorable.