Machine Learning (Captain Allen and DPD SWAT POV)

Training Day

"My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will..."

We took some time setting up a course, making it more challenging than the usual set up. We put the targets out farther from the shooting range, put more space between the tires, made the wall just a little higher. I wanted to see what these things were capable of. How far we could push them. How they'd react in situations that humans had been in centuries before them.

I chewed on a piece of gum, walking the side lines. Sweat beaded on my temple, got in between my eyes and sunglasses, made my hands slick as I gripped a clipboard. I rolled my ankle, using a pencil to pick a rock out of my boot's treads that'd been stabbing me.

"So..." Liam snickered, walking down the line of androids at parade rest, "Word from the top is you robo-boys are gonna be the next hydrogen bomb, and you'll be all ours to drop where we please and how we please, no different than takin' a massive shit behind enemy lines..." He huffed, "Know what I think about all that?" He crossed his arms, his backwards hat casting a shadow over his neck, "I think top brass gone and done lost their fuckin' minds...because all I see is a couple of brave little toasters ready to get their plastic faces blown off by the first AK to shoot at 'em."

Sage Talon sat on a crate across the obstacle course, a report in her hand and a bottle of water next to her. Pierson was with her, pointing and talking about something with Kaid, her dog, by her side.

"SO!" Liam yelled, scaring all of us, dog included, "You have exactly FIVE MINUTES to clear this course, pick up those guns, load those guns, SHOOT THOSE TARGETS and make it back here, and if you FAIL, you will be sent back to whatever Frankenstein bullshit lab you came out of. All that crystal clear, Brave Little Toasters?!"

"SIR YES SIR!" They answered.

"ON MY MARK!" Liam shouted, standing off to the side, "GET SET!" He held a whistle to his mouth, "GO!"

He blew the whistle, the screech ringing in my ears. From there, he ran along the left side, and I followed on the right.

"LET'S GO, MOVE IT, FASTER-" I barked at them as they ran through the tires on the ground, knees high and feet pumping, "Is that all you got?! Is that what we paid for?! Some little fuckin' infant feet twinkle TOES?!"

"Listen up fuckwits-" Liam called out from the other side as they left the tires and began climbing the rope wall, "IF YOU DO NOT PASS THIS COURSE, I will have no choice but to declare your MECHANICAL EXISTENCE FORFEIT and put them in the hands of contract terrorists that get easily triggered by UNPOPPED MARINE SKULLS! Do you UNDERSTAND ME?"

"SIR YES SIR!"

They ran. They crawled. They climbed. They shot every target with fatal accuracy. The visual struggle of men overcoming obstacles was absent. The look on new recruits' faces as their tank emptied, and the force of mental aptitude to keep going. The androids exhibited none of that. They didn't have to. It was a strange observation.

We tested them that day, all day, with anything anyone could think of. There was one critical issue that reared its ugly head during live fire training in some old nearby ruins.

The androids were given an objective, and they were to follow my lead inside. We were to secure a hostage in a center room of the building, which was Chris Grenier in that case, and escort him to safety. I don't know why, and at the time, didn't bother to ask, but something went terribly wrong. One thing, I planned for...the next, what I was scared of, and was proven right about. I'd planned myself to be "shot" during this mock trial. Injured in the field. Laid on the ground and everything.