"Same." I answered. We got to the target room, and went in. I took my dagger out of my boot, twirling it around my finger.
"I can't believe you still insist upon using that thing. It's old, rusty, dented, and not modern."
"Whatever." I said. I went to stand at a cross on the ground. A target stood quite a ways away from me. I positioned myself paralel, holding my ancient dagger close to my body. I flicked my wrist out, and the dagger flew out of my hand.
"Good aim." Lance said. I went over and took my dagger out of the centre of the target.
"Been practising." I replied. "But you're the one that needs practice." I stepped near him. "What to try it?" I asked, shoving my dagger at him. He gingerly took it from my fingers.
"Scared of an 'old, rusty, dented, not modern dagger'?" I asked.
"No," he said. He held it in position, aiming at the target. He whipped his hand out, the dagger flying. It landed, in the centre. He went to grab it, and immediately handed it back to me.
"I prefer my modern weapons, though." he said. He took his plasma gun, and started off to a seperate section of the target range.