came around and began nipping at the amorous separatists. As a result, they began to disperse and chase the dogs back into the funnel.
On the way, one ID grabbed a flank member and, not recognizing him as food thanks to the suit, began to hump the poor bastard.
Lorenzo ordered a couple of nearby soldiers to assist, but Peter sent in the dogs so as not to waste a single soldier. After all, the poor soldier was in no apparent danger of being eaten, just humped to death.
The dogs were all over the amorous ID soldier, and sensing the commotion and absence of the dogs’ guidance, the shambling mass of ID began to fall into disarray, coming dangerously close to the soldiers in the flanks of the funnel.
If order was not going to be restored in minutes, they would have to be put down. Major Lewis would not be pleased.
Peter let out a string of obscenities and pressed the AI kill switch, thus ending the exercise. “Goddammit!”
Lorenzo ran up to Peter confused. “Lieutenant, why did you…”
Peter threw down the AI controller and stomped on it. “Goddamned humpers! Ruined a perfectly good exercise.”
“But Lieutenant, we could have…”
Peter put up his hand to silence Lorenzo, and Lorenzo knew better than to continue his line of questioning. There would be plenty of opportunity for discussion during debriefing.
Peter walked up to the humper, which was now standing immobilized, and he pushed the victimized live soldier aside. He then hit the humper in the face with the stock of his shotgun. “Lousy son-of-a-bitch.”
The thoroughly humped soldier stood aside and watched with wide eyes. The humper did not move or register pain.
Lorenzo walked up behind Peter, and the soldier standing aside flashed him a look of concern.
“Freaking moron…,” Peter continued, insulting the ID.
Peter hit the humper in the gut, doubling it over from the force of the impact rather than pain, and then he brought the stock down on to the back of its head.
“Lieutenant…,” Lorenzo put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
Peter shrugged it off impatiently and pushed the doubled over ID to the ground. “There’s a few of you in every goddamned batch…”
Peter began to kick it in the ribs. The whole time it never responded. It only laid there like a crash test dummy.
Lockwood had run out into the field. “Lieutenant Birdsall, stand down.”
Peter ignored him and kept kicking the sprawled out ID.
“LIEUTENANT BIRDSALL, STAND DOWN.”
Peter kept kicking it in the ribs and the head, unfazed by the crowd that had gathered around him staring in shock as he, their commanding officer, lost his cool.
Peter jumped out of his skin at the sound of Lockwood’s pistol shot up into the air. He stood there foaming at the mouth and panting heavily.
Lockwood holstered his sidearm. “Birdsall and Lorenzo, debriefing, NOW.”
Peter took off his helmet and hunched over the downed ID, collecting himself. Lorenzo shot him a look of stern disapproval and headed for the debriefing room.
Peter looked around at his platoon. They were all looking at him with a mixture of concern and fear.
“Yeah,” was all he said, and he walked off to the debriefing room.
This time only Lorenzo and Lockwood were in the debriefing room. Lorenzo was seated, and Lockwood was standing at the front of the room. Peter took his seat next to Lorenzo, who sat irritated in silence.
Major Lewis then stormed into the room, passed up his seat at the desk in front, and stood directly in front of them. “Jesus tap dancing Christ. What the hell just happened out there?”
Lorenzo sat in silence, waiting for Peter to offer up his explanation. Peter knew he had to be the one to explain.
“Sir, as the ID were leaving the structure and following the dogs down the funnel, a small group of five ID split off and began humping. Sergeant Lorenzo wanted to allocate two men from the flank to address the ID, which in hindsight was probably the best solution.”
“But…”
“But I did not want to detract from the protective flank, in case any more insurgents were going to attack, and I didn’t want any of the humpers wasted, so I sent in the dogs. The dogs broke up the pile, but one ID began to hump a soldier on the flank.”
Peter cleared his throat awkwardly and continued.
“The dogs responded on my command, resulting in a loss of control of the remaining ID in the funnel. So, I saw it fit to hit the Amygdala Inhibitor kill switch and end the exercise.”
“Is that how it