The weight of the heavy pistol felt foreign in your hands as Steb stood beside you. His presence gave off a surprising patience as he guided you through the proper techniques. “Grip it firmly,” he rumbled in a low voice.

“Steady.” Steb held your biceps, keeping your arms steady. His touch was nearly clinical in how he held you. It was a little silly how serious he got the moment he wore his enforcers uniform.

Steb looked over your shoulder, angling your shot for you. “Don't sway,” he hummed. Steb's hand briefly covered yours, adjusting your aim. “Squeeze the trigger, prepare for kickback.”

He stepped back, clasping his hands behind his back as he watched you stare at the target.