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Character Development
Marksman Simulation

Inside the Re-Enlistment Shuttle


“You ready to work out the kinks?” A voice projected as the cockpit’s door progressively shut closed. Brock shifted his head to the right just enough to catch the man behind the voice. He sharply turned back and murmured a small laugh as he continued to pace the cockpit’s lobby.

“Good to see you too General..” Brock turned, his peripheral just caught Rizzit leaning against the wall and straitening up his imperial uniform.

Rizzit paced up and down the room. He had a tendency to pace when giving orders or doing anything of official business. Rizzit finally turned to Brock. "Brock, I have an important assignment to give you." Rizzit found himself intriguing the trooper to the point where Brock was captivated and almost out of his seat. His senses expanded, trying to read through Rizzit’s mind. “Well if I knew better, you are suggesting that I’ll hit up some type of training or something.” Brock exchanged nods with the General as they both smirked at each others facial expressions. “You haven’t changed a bit Brock, you are almost like your older brother, or at least you remind me of him. But in all seriousness, let’s get down to business.” Rizzit cleared his throat as Brock swallowed the last comments he had in mind. “I want you to undergo a simulation to shake off any rust you have since you were last deployed in a mission. So just sit tight while I give the flight captain some directions.” Rizzit stood up and extended a crisp salute before focusing his sight on the flight captain. Brock likewise saluted.

Rizzit approached the flight captain and whispered a few words into his ear. Slightly off his sight, Brock cached Rizzit pointing to his left and giving the flight captain a set of new directions. The flight captain gave the General the look and facial expression of affirmative and not long before Rizzit slowly walked towards the cockpit door, the flight captain changed the concourse of the shuttle, progressively shifting the shuttle to head east of their position. The lights illuminated the General’s path as he headed towards the automatic cockpit doors. As the shuttle slightly began to descend on the ground, Brock took a moment to glimpse out the oval-shaped window from the cockpit to see the landing zone of one of the Stormtrooper Corp facilities in Tadath. The shuttle lowered the landing gear and hovered the ground until all the landing legs were paralleled to land flat. With his eyes still focused outside, Brock saw the General as he headed out the shuttle ramp and into the facility. Brock leaned his head on the top the chair and rested his legs in the nearby furniture his feet felt more comfortable in. The quiet engine throttle in the rear and the dawn of the afternoon lulled Brock into a daze and sooner or later engaged him into a deep slumber as the shuttle headed towards the sun just above the horizon.

Training Facility

Not so much after Brock dazed out, the shuttle made a last stop at one of the many training facilities in Tadath. The flight captain turned back to see Brock snuggled against his seat. He nodded and took off the tightly secured harness he had strapped on for safety since he was a crewman with only limited experience. The captain tapped Brock in the head with enough pressure to make him stumble out of his seat. Brock’s eyes opened slowly as a dim of light and the captain’s presence were visible to his sight. His hands rubbed all over his eyes, clearing out the blurriness that kept him from seeing clearly. Without making much noise, the captain mused quietly. “Good morning sunshine. The General ordered me to take all the re-enlisted troopers to this area to engage in different types of simulations.”

The Flight Captain knew he had to give something to the trooper, but frankly couldn’t put his finger on it. Tracing back to his memories, the captain pondered if Rizzit had given him something of importance. Shortly, the captain took out a disc he had stored on his left pocket. Brock took only a second to realize it was a simulation disc and took it out of the Captain’s opened palm. After salutes and formalities between, Brock headed out the shuttle walking passively down the ramp. Finding himself just outside the training facility, he punched in a few passwords for security clearance. The doors automatically opened, though took some time before they opened completely, just enough to let Brock pass through. He looked around to spot a simulation room nearby. Pacing back and forth the facility’s lobby level, he elevated to the next level and luckily found himself in the simulation rooms that were all aligned sporadically all over the canvas. Not really caring on what room to enter, he jumped into the first one at sight.

Brock cleared the lock with his identification and placed the disc inside, before he knew it, he was found in a vast deserted area. He looked around to find signs of existence and quickly turned to a hologramic presence to his right. The hologram moved to stay on his sight and gave Brock a brief introduction of the simulation he was about to undergo. The holocron was an image none other than his former simulation training officer and now the Platoon Commander of Storm; Aeos. He was rather glad it was her prepping him up for the simulation and not some guy who would just blab about details he didn’t need to hear. Shortly after, his mind drifted somewhat to a distant dimension, completely unfocused and spaced out. Glaring the scenery of emptiness gave him a site that resembled more of a desert, except without the sand. The landscape had somewhat abundant grass patterns and concrete slabs placed in an antique pattern altogether. A weird mix Brock taught, but in the other hand it wasn’t like he had to climb large boulders or anything. So the landscape was rather what he had hoped for. Brock’s mind focused back into the holocron just in time to catch the actual details. He skimmed over the excessively long speech and extracted only the important; he just didn’t have the patience to take it all in. He was always the stubborn type of guy, and hated to sit there and hear on-going speeches. He will rather dig in the information himself rather than to sit there and waste time in listening. So this speech didn’t make him focus any better, but made him impatient. As the briefing came to a close, Brock laid out the information in his head and drew out his plans. The only thing he hoped for is not missing so much of the briefing that can later on affect his performance. Even though he was rusty and straight out of the reserves, he was as cocky as ever. He nodded to his preoccupations and spaced them out of his mind.


From a distance away, a small ship could be seen hovering the nearby area where Brock was pacing about. Not knowing whether to trust its presence or not, Brock relied on his common sense and inquired that it was overly too soon to engage in combat.  Having the conformity that it was safe to receive the ship in allied welcome, he watched as the ship slowly turned off the engines and its gasses lurked, scarcely wearing off in the ground. The ship’s hydraulic ramp lowered into the ground until it made its landing just meters in front of Brock. Echoed steep steps could be heard from inside the cockpit into the walkway as the man’s shadow could be seen closing in to Brock’s sight. Brock focused his lenses and noticed an Imperial Officer making his way down the ramp. A grunted facial expression was noticed moments after seeing the Officer lifting up more than he could handle. Brock didn’t waste a second to try to help the officer, and quickly stepped up the ramp. They both took a quick glance at each other before Brock took the encased briefcase out of his left hand; that was keeping him from standing straight. Moments after dropping the cargo safely on the canvas and meters away from the ship, they both squared their shoulders and corrected their exhausted posture to briefly salute one another. 

The Imperial Officer made the first move and extended a few words to Brock before having to salute him. “The briefcases we just carried contain your weaponry that you can take with you in this simulation. Along with enclosed information found inside one of the cases, so if you missed some information from the Holocron briefing, then I suggest you take a look at your objectives. Anyhow, good luck trooper.” The officer didn’t take the time to say his name and was rather in a hurry. He sprinted up the ramp, leaving Brock with his words in his tongue. Moments after, the ship took off into the atmosphere, surpassing the upper levels of Tadath before hurling upwardly into hyperspace.

Opening the large heavy mechanism in the briefcase gave Brock the slightest idea that something far beyond what he had expected was waiting between the tightly sealed compartment. As he opened the case off its hinges, he saw three above standardized rifles along with several varieties of fragmentation grenades. He strapped up his preferred close quarter combat rifle and attached the nades on his utility belt. The second briefcase proved to be easier to open Brock thought.

Brock’s muscles had warmed up in his first attempt at the first briefcase, eventually finding it easier to open the second one.  Nothing more than environmental suits and various items that all dealt with communication, jamming and infiltrating capabilities. Searching for something more out of the box, Brock opened another separate compartment. Brock’s face turned pale, inhaling deep breaths of air as the reflection of a Sniper Rifle glared an infrared color in his eyes. The shells of ammunition were all sealed in small compartment near the rifle. Just from the looks of it, it appeared that it was a Deathwind Slugthrower Sniper Rifle, from the projectile size and number of magazines. Nothing he had hoped for, but sure was a surprise to see a marksman’s weapon of that caliber in his possession.

As the sunset set below the horizon, Brock placed all his weaponry to a side and went to a breach position with a mission objective guide found inside one of the briefcases. Having no more distractions upon him gave him a chance to skim through the overly large bodies of text he had enclosed in front of him.

As he heard previously from the briefing, the simulation had different objectives which all led to a main objective. The simulation wasn’t your typical Recon mission, but rather the Rambo-type mission where direct-action was taken. From snatching bodies to infiltrating and going in deep into hostile territory without support or heavy weapons and most importantly avoiding enemy contacts. Stealth and silence saved your violence. To be detected, to have to fight, meant he failed. This mission was all about that and nothing more. This was the first unaccompanied stealth mission he has had in quite a while, and didn’t know what to expect. Keeping the main objective revolving around his mind, he headed out from the hangar into the night. The creatures could be heard from miles on end, but what was even more shivering was the moist night air rattling the few nearby trees the area had left.

Realizing his lack of preparation, Brock placed a few clicks on his comm-link to give him several map readings of the area and specifically the actual building location he needed to infiltrate. Flashbacking to his thoughts, he needed to take out the outer defenses of the building and get around the guards without being seen. This proved to be a harder task than he had expected, but Brock relied on his equipment and experience to take over his fears. Not only did he have to infiltrate the place without being uncovered, but yet he had to encrypt secured data inside the building back to the hangar. Brock’s only advantage he had on his enemy would have to be the night scenario, which will act as an undercover agent in the simulation, other than that he couldn’t come up with anything else.

Keeping his senses sharpened kept him going securely down the narrow road that could be barely seen in the night, only the grass patterns emerging through the concrete slabs and hard-sand were the most detailed perception he could capture at the time. His comm-link did its best to give him accurate readings of the building. But it didn’t provide enemy readings of the area for some particular reason.

Focusing his eyesight into the illuminant screen, he perceived that the building was ten miles to the east from his position. It wasn’t that it was too long of a walk; rather he walked more in previous simulations. However in previous Sims he'd been accompanied by a squadmate:  who provided a slight percentage of surveillance to ease both their concentration. Not to forget to mention, the conditions were different then; unlike now it had been broad daylight and the security conditions were far less strenuous. So being alone in the night, and having no clue of enemy readings at all gave him the insecurity he needed to keep his senses sharp for the rest of the night. It was a hassle for him, but he had no other choice than to keep his close quarter riot blaster in the secure grasp of his hands and look around from all perspectives.

The night rumbled with aircrafts going overhead and the thud of bombs as they pounded near the vicinity. Huge plumes of greasy smoke towered into the black sky. Brock slugged away in the dark, tired-looking expression from the levels of concentration that kept him going for the longest of times. Upon reaching his destined target, he found several guard towers extending at a large radio just outside surrounding the main facility. As he looked around, trying to position himself to his surroundings, he felt the presence of pure flat-hard sand and occasionally bushes of grass emerging from the ground. The towers were still in their usual gray color, but the main building was covered with sand-colored concrete. The towers located inside of the building were exhaling a black exhaust smoke that polluted the nearby area. That and the fact that nuclear-active bombs where being tested inside the main building which can provide as a good stealth and distraction agent.

His initial tasking was to establish OPs, observation posts, in at least one of the towers. Then from there execute any military personnel in that tower specifically and in all other towers until he made his preparations to infiltrate the facility. That was the best way to gain the altitude, camouflage and enhanced vision to pull-off well placed shots.

Noticing the first tower a few meters off his right, Brock crouched with his head tugged in his neck, carefully nearing the tower. Elevating the ladder proved more than a challenge, at any time the guards might unload on him if he placed his foot too hard on the wooden slabs. Carefully elevating the steps, Brock peered out the floor level of the canvas with his eyes, just barely covering his cornea. The occasional plume of dust sifted skyward in the distance, arousing the already tense moment Brock was in.

As his eyes adapted to the bright light from his left, he tensed. The light turned a nearby shadow into two guards plotting fixes in their respective control terminal. Steadily, he rolled his eyes to the left, just to peak if his Riot Blaster Rifle had an equipped silencer on. He didn’t know how lucky he was, but he was just fortunate to have luck on his side once again. Not thinking twice about it, he fired several clean shots to their heads, pulling the trigger with his right hand and leaving the other to hold his weight on the rope of the ladder. The beamed shots penetrated; encrusting the beam through their skull and watching as the haze of smoke lifted from their bodies.

Hesitantly, he took several steps to make both his feet land in the canvas. Brock was just about to put down his sniper rifle and ammunition when he heard a hiss projecting from the speakers. From shock, he tripped over a headset. Not knowing what to do, he simply typed in a response that everything was okay and stated that the microphone wasn’t working at the time. That did just fine to convince the main facility guards temporarily. Brock just hoped that the sun didn’t set too soon, since he would be more vulnerable he thought. He had exactly six ours before the sun sets to retrieve the information and send it back to HQ. Not to forget to mention taking out all the outer defenses in the process.

Without time to spare, Brock hooked up a wind preceptor in the outside wooden structure of the tower. This would enable him to see where the wind was facing, and at what speed. The preceptor was more or less like a barometer, but specifically made to aid the marksman know when his shots could be deflected by the wind. The wind preceptor was just one of the tools that would help him make sure he didn’t miss a single shot; he didn’t want to have the wind ruin a moment of opportunity he could sure regret. Looking over his sniper rifle, he found a silencer equipped just above. The silencer was as important as his position. If he would put a bullet through another man’s eye socket at four hundred meters, the others would have heard the shot and quickly determine where it came from if they were at least half decent. So the silencer was always good in stealthy-like missions.

Brock laid his sniper rifle on the window; which proved to be a prominent sniper rifle resting spot. He covered the barrel, hindering it with a black leather finish. Having the camouflage and the range to scope out even the most cautious guards gave Brock a clear advantage in the night. Now it was up to him to keep his calm, shoot, and not get caught; managing to take out all personnel he sees before infiltrating the facility. Looking out through the scope directly at the nearby control tower, Brock saw the two guys standing there with their headsets on. They both were parallel to Brock’s crosshair, meaning that the bullet won’t just penetrate one of them, but both. The wind was picking up again from the lightly status previously. This time the dust was being picked up often, but not enough to deflect a bullet from that range.

Brock secured his thoughts, checking for shadow effect and quartering his target. The stiff trigger pulled back and managed to pierce the guard’s heads from an oblique angle. It was a one for two kill, nothing better he could have expected from his first shot. He called it starters luck but didn’t give the luck any credit on that shot. Brock reloaded the bolt-action projectile cartridge with not enough success for a fast reload. He had never fired sniper rifle in his career but knew the mechanism well enough to use it proficiently. He was rusty at first, but he knew his mistakes will be fixed later on with experience. Brock was hoping for a faster reload just in case he had a moment of opportunity before him.

Brock glanced out in search of another tower. Just off his sight, the flares of nuclear bombs could be seen meters away. The radiant bomb pounded the sand, leaving radiated sand particles rattling in the moist air. He realized that the bombs will soundproof the projectile. Even the silencer could be heard slightly by a well developed ear; it didn’t always work to perfection. Brock was glad that all other noise overwhelmed the bullet sound, making it almost impossible for anyone to notice without them actually starring at the target the whole time.

Brock shifted the barrel to his left, adjusting his zero to focus on a nearby tower that peaked out behind the main facility. The guard was pacing with a blaster on his hand. Brock’s only chance was to catch him continuing to pace left before he turned out of sight. The shot was too risky in his opinion. It demanded not only a precise shot, but accurate timing Brock didn’t have with his theoretical proficiency of the sniper rifle. Brock sighted and let out a puff of air that was held in his lungs from the previous shot. That tower proved to be unimportant he though; it was well hid behind the facility’s outer rim and didn’t act as a surveillance agent in the simulation at all. The guard had no possible visibility from his angle at the front area of the main gate. So Brock spaced out his preoccupations and shifted his rifle to another location from a different window.

The new angle gave him a wide range of visibility over the area and specifically the third tower that was adjacent from his barrel. Before looking in the crosshair, Brock perceived that the bombs had ceased from activity and all the aircrafts near the area had already landed inside the facility. It was all down to the silencer to do the work now, and Brock feared that with his inexperienced marksmanship, that he’ll be done for. He inhaled a half breath, following up with a permanent wink of his left eye so his other eye could concentrate on the target. The two guards were in their usual Republic uniform; sitting in a relaxed pose. They didn’t make any sudden movements, but very subtle and quiet.  Brock opened up his right eye to check on the wind, and was just slightly pulling west. It wasn’t a problem at all, the problem lied in the other guard noticing the victim and warning the others.

Brock wasn’t willing to take the risk; since his reload wasn’t as fast as a normal marksman will do it. But he had no other choice. He had to take his chances. Time was a valuable thing, and he needed to let his cockiness take over his fears. Brock winked his left eye again and focused his sight just right from the bull’s-eye. Brock’s last thought before pulling the trigger was that he will blow his cover and needed to reload as fast as he could. A silenced shot successfully hit its target. The other guard sat frozen in his seat, still starring at the man’s whose skull had suddenly opened like a grisly tulip in front of him.

Brock didn’t bother to peak out if the shot hit or not, and was rather busy reloading the rifle and thinking if the man had already called the others via terminal. He didn’t analyze much and popped out of cover and sighted the guard. Blinded, defended, the guard embraced for impact. Brock had the fainted amused curve on his lips, still surprise to have that starters luck on his side. He had to admit it, that his reload was progressively taking shape. Only time and experience can determine if he could get any faster at them.

Leaving the other two towers spaced out of his mind let him focus on the outer rim of the facility. The outer rim was a circular walkway of military defenses to watch out for any suspicious activities outside the gates. It wasn’t a continuous walkway, rather was separated by the towers that were still pumping the massive clouds of smoke. These towers divided the outer rim by sections, which allowed Brock to concentrate in the front and oblique sectors that can potentially cause a threat and diminish his chances of infiltrating through the main gate.

The clone trooper’s white helmet just above the brick stoned wall that surrounded the facility’s main building gave Brock a chance to carefully take them out with only a target to aim at; the head. He hoped there will be as many of twelve guards since he estimated the gap each of them had throughout the outer wall defenses. Only precise shots could scrape the upper helmet and pierce through the armour. So he needed to be careful to steady his aim and hold his breath. Brock found the first guy at sight just in front of his position. He wanted to take one by one starting from left to right. Since the guards moved right and back to their position, Brock figured it will be best to take out the left guards first and not let the others guards know. Scoping out the first guy at sight and gently placing his right hand on the trigger and tightly shutting his left eye gave him a clear view of the guard slowly moving to his right. Brock’s right eye opened and shifted to see the wind preceptor reading the wind west at about thirteen mph which didn’t make such a huge deflection on the projectile.

Brock didn’t know exactly where to place the shot, so he more or less relied on the guard walking right to cover up for some centimeters of bullet deflection. His hand was ready to ignite, and his crosshair was slowly following the moving target. The crosshair stayed put just slightly at the guard’s right. Having that and the wind carry the bullet slightly to Brock’s left was as secure of a shot he could get. Trusting the nerve on his right index finger, Brock pulled back on the trigger. Just as he hoped for, the guard was killed in the first shot. After noticing the projectile pierce through both of the guard’s heads in his previous attempt, he knew one shot to the head was just enough to get the job done. So he trusted that it was safe to move onto the next target.  Swiftly but passively Brock moved the crosshair to his right. Timing his reload efficiently and much better than before was a good sign he was indeed progressing his marksmanship. Not long after, Brock had already killed most enemies at sight. Noticing a light searching the outer rim wall of the facility, Brock quickly hid behind cover as the light illuminated the dead guards in outer rim. A siren could be heard from thousand meters away. Brock knew he was in trouble and needed to act fast.

Moments later, he zoomed at the alerted tower with his Binocular who he had on his utility belt. The tool proved to be prominent as it zoomed into thousands of meters away. The only thing that Brock could see at the point was a siren and the search light looking at every place possible in the facility. Focusing his view inside the tower, he noticed a sniper rifle setting up promptly in the canvas. Brock continued his search and likewise saw a couple more in the outer rim of the facility. He knew he was in for something far that he had feared. The only advantage he had was his uncovered location, which proved to be the only thing helping him go through the simulation. With a small courageous attempt, Brock popped out the window and took aim at the outer rim. Luckily enough, the wind had calmed down and was steady at the moment.

Brock went prone on his knees and pulled back the trigger. Not long before he took a shot, he hid behind cover to reload his sniper rifle. For some odd reason, Brock could feel that he just unveiled his cover. Shooting out a projectile was more camouflaged at night than a blaster sniper shooting a beam. But even the most talented marksman can detect where the shot came from just watching the ignition go off. Brock met his worst fear, and took in long deep pockets of air shake it off. The minutes were turning into hours, and time was just about running out. The night sky was blossoming a lighter color and Brock was still thinking about a plan to get him out of the situation. The thoughts reminisced throughout mind and came back down to the nerves. Out off desperation, Brock took off his helmet. Holding his helmet in his hands gave him an idea. He wasn’t sure it would work, but was the only alternative he had at the time. Brock pondered in his thoughts and thought he had probably only a few guard snipers left without knowing their position, and hoping for them to know his position made him put his idea to the test. It was a risk he was willing to take, but was the only way he can uncover their position as well.

From Brock’s window, a polished white helmet could be seen from the other gunman’s view. Just as he thought, the gunman shot the second anything popped out in his sight. Brock watched as the helmet was knocked out of his hand. Watching carefully with his right eye, the enemy sniper had a projectile sniper rifle that puffed out a haze of smoke from the ignition. The haze gave Brock the location of one of the enemy sniper. Brock wondered if they would come afterwards to check an affirmative kill. Nevertheless, Brock was already prepared and planning something at the moment. In the quickest of seconds, Brock decided to act quickly and move to another location just below the control tower. Going fully prone on the grass gave him a clear view of the enemy’s sniper. The wind was still moderate at the time; Brock didn’t have his wind preceptor but could feel that grass steadily still.

A clean shot was placed at the sniper who was still fooled that Brock was indeed a dead man. The last sniper gunman moved his sight to the ignition smoke, but didn’t catch it in time to see Brock on his sight. Meters away from the facility, Brock was moving as fast as he could to a bush nearby to set up for the last gunman. His actions where cut short as a group of armed clones could be seen approaching his direction.

As the sky cleared up, a beam of light illuminated the metallic structure on Brock’s sniper rifle as he scoped in for the last guy. Concentrating his crosshair directly at the other sniper gunman, in a matter of seconds just before pulling back on the trigger, the wind sporadically changed directions running at speeds he wasn’t used to sniping before. A shot was fired and missed by half a meter. Alerted and advantageous, the sniper gunman had the upper hand, and was looking directly at the haze of smoke. Without hesitation, the enemy gunman fired a shot at the large compiled assortment of plants which didn’t let him see clear enough to catch Brock hiding beneath it. A projectile went through the concrete grass just centimeters from Brock. His heart hit a moment of pause and his pupils dilated in fear. It was a darn close one he thought, still snapping back to reality.

Brock ripped off a small compilation of leaves just big enough for his barrel to go through it. The barrel just barely peaked in the outside of the bush, but was just enough to catch the view of the three armed group of clones heading to his tower’ direction. Having the angle and camouflage didn’t let him be seen by the other gunman, who was at the time aiming down to his target. Brock took the opportunity clear off the ground forces. Sooner or later, the ground forces had no idea of Brock’s hideout and were all killed one by one in the process.

The gunman appeared to be intelligent, and Brock didn’t want to take his chances and move onto another location. He needed some type of distraction, and as he thought, the fragmentation grenades he had lined up in his belt proved to be more than enough. Having the grenade in his hand, he pulled back on the oval shaped ring and threw it as far as he could from his position. The grenade covered somewhat a decent perimeter and the gunman was distracted long enough for Brock to make a run to the next cover. The haze of smoke also provided Brock some camouflage as he made his way to his hideout.

Brock could imagine the gunman feeling stupid after that, and was glad he had the upper-hand once again. The sun was just setting above the horizon, and Brock was aiming at his target. He knew he couldn’t miss again and needed to act quickly before the wind picked up its speed again. The wind seemed to be facing north which was just what Brock needed. A quick pull of his trigger and an aligned crosshair to the dumfounded gunman was the best feeling Brock could feel in the few months serving the corps.

He took out his binocular and assures himself he wasn’t still being watched by any other guard. He jogged the few hundred meters towards the three clone trooper he had killed that night. Brock grabbed one of them and began pulling on the already shot arm and he dragged him to the near hideout he could find. Moments later, Brock had the look of a clone trooper himself as he strapped on the gear and amour of his killed enemy. Knowing that the look will grant him access to the facility and encrypt the information he needed was just what he had in mind after arriving at the main gate. Verification didn’t take that long, and he found himself inside a few seconds upon arrival. He checked the comm-link for the data’s location. A few meters north of his position were just as easy as it got from there. Sooner or later he was found encrypting the last scripts of data back to HQ. The simulation came to a close shortly after.

The doors to the simulation room opened and there was somebody just outside of it. A voice familiar to him, and was noneother than Rizzit. “If you would have taken any longer, I would probably been dead..” Rizzit said.

“Well if you wouldn’t have given me a harder simulation, then you might have looked younger..” Brock laughed..