I opened my eyes and found myself on the ground, face planted firmly onto the soil. What the fuck? I rolled onto my back and reached for my sidearm instinctively. I was a bit groggy, but that didn't mean I couldn't wipe the floor with a few idiots. I stumbled onto my feet, tipping and swaying as I went. I saw 2SL come up to me and help me. Nice lad, he was -- went by Gommelosch, I'll call him Gom.

I shook him off as I brushed the dirt from my fatigues, and looked to where I'd fallen from.

Standing at the door with a hand placed onto the door's frame, Quinn was on her way out of the vic. I saw the rest of my soldiers begin dismounting and walking off to who knows where, supplies in hand. They all walked around me and went about their tasks as if I wasn't there, averting their gaze. One of the soldiers in particular -- Quinn -- glared at me as she walked towards me, anger very clearly written all over her face.

I stood up straight and dusted myself of further debris, and met Quinn's gaze half-way. She stopped just as she got within arms-length, and spat on my face.

"You're a fucking disgrace of a CO," She said. "You could have spared them, allied with them or-- or something! We didn't have to fucking kill them!" What the fuck would she know about it? She fucking spat -- on my face, no less.

Hey, did I actually explicitly give the order to shoot?

Now, I'd be remiss to forget that these fuckwits with ranks of Corporal and above didn't have their memories, and might have forgotten the stiff discipline taught by our academies. If the Army couldn't hammer it into their souls, I would. These fuckers need to be taught a lesson, and I needed to convince them we were the good guys.

The enemy charged, as evidenced by their yelling and shuffling footsteps -- fully intent on applying lethal force. We responded with more lethal force, nothing else to it. Did you want peace? Fuck off and join them, then. You wanted it to be a fair fight, so you could bleed and struggle honourably? See how long you last without your gizmos -- and if you do last? We'll hunt you down when we've already occupied the damn place.

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See? Perfectly fucking reasonable, and they have a reason to stay.

I wiped the spit off of my face with the back of my hand, which seemed pretty odd in hindsight. I closed it into a fist and twirled it around, examining it.

"You the fuckwit who so rudely interrupted my sleep?" I said, calmly -- as calm as calm could be when you've got a bubbling vat of irritation ready to burst. To be fair, I did screw the lid on tight, but there may have been a few holes on the seal.

"Yes, sir." Replied miss-humanitarian, turning to walk away. I sent my spit-covered fist straight into her half-turned face. She fell onto her side, twisting as she went. I pinned her down, one arm up straight in the air as I leaned my head in closer to her.

"You the fuckwit who pushed me off of the fucking Vic?" I asked the struggling Officer pinned beneath me, half-yelling. The more she struggled, the more pressure I'd put on her joints.

"Yes, you cold fuck!" She practically hissed at me as she squirmed about. I drew my sidearm, put it against her nape, and turned to the rest of the soldiers whom I'd last seen moving their supplies about.

Those who'd been looking were met with my unaffected eyes, and they turned to look the other way. They went about their business and carried the supplies around, hoping they wouldn't be involved. Bad day for you lot, I guess.

"All of you form ranks in front of me and the Officer, get the fuck to it," I said in a monotone voice. "Drop everything and go, --" I took a short breath and bellowed out, "-- NOW!"

They all rushed to get in line, some of them dropping the sensitive tech they were carrying. Maybe the drop everything part was a little much, don't you think? The whole affair took about ten seconds, and they were all in line. Record time, good job, boys!

I stood up, foot still firmly planted onto the First Class' small back. She'd stopped struggling and was now panting.

"Now, this woman here thinks we've done a bad in that little encounter we had earlier. I tend to think we were perfectly fucking reasonable. Anyone care to explain why, on her behalf?"

As I thought, no one said so much as a word. Time for every gruff officer's speciality -- the tirade.