Legix
Well-Known Member
Fort Puckett, 309th FOB
During the Interluding Month
"This one is... eccentric."
Juno put the datapad down, sitting within the FOB in his little workspace. It was lights out for most of the group, with the makeshift walls and door thrown up around him ensuring his conversation with the General was at least somewhat private.
"She's decorated. A proficient transfer."
"But we already have a gunner. And the other one, the radio operator... he brings us to four. How am I supposed to fit a fifth inside?"
A soft hiss could be heard, Whooper nuzzling and investigating the camera that the General was on the receiving end of. The screen was briefly snake-mouth, but the little reptile lowered and allowed the pair to see one another again.
"You can stand in the commander's seat, remote-link the radio comms into the driver's cabin. Put a chair in there for him to sit and operate your communications and be the eyes if your driver needs to turn out. His original chair can go to your new gunner, she can help with the loading and operate your command turret."
The process was at least sound, Juno looking to his papers with a soft grunt of approval.
"I don't like customizing my tanks, but I guess that's fine. Do you have her on comm-link, General?"
"Of course, Lieutenant. Speak with her, then once you see that the Corporal is capable, contact me again and we'll finalize the transfers."
Juno gave a nod and a half-aware salute with his human hand, his robotic hand moving to gently tap the comm-switch button on his station. The hum of the machine as it contacted the fleet in orbit of New Bernese, acting as a relay, was all it took before it buzzed and alerted the Corporal to ready herself for a video call.
Seated alone in a conference room was the orange haired Corporal in question. She was bored from waiting but she had enough restraint to deal with the process if it meant she could get inside a Maximus again. It was so much better than a K4, the gun was larger, and there was more focus on raw manly power, unlike the 'trendy' K4 with all its accessories and gadgets.
Corporal Wallace was not allowed to day dream too long though, the sound of an incoming call shook her out of her fantasies. She sighted and straightened herself up, offering a salute quickly after hitting the button.
"Corporal Wallace present, Sir."
The sight of Wallace in her gussied up and saluting state earned a somewhat excessive sigh from Juno. The intent had been to recruit experienced soldiers, not ones that huffed up and tried their hardest to salute. A good soldier understood formalities weren't essential as much as discipline and directness.
"At ease," he gave small salute back with his rather large mechanical hand, "As the acting commander of ground operations within New Bernese, under authority of General Wiegand, have to ask... why do you think you'd be a good fit for my gunner, Miss Wallace? And, if you were made one, would you have issues removing your clothes in the case of temperature meltdown within the vehicle to ensure a prolonged service?"
While he hadn't battered one specific nerd within the vehicle about such a topic, it was common knowledge that a tanker had to be willing to strip down if a tank began to heat up. It was rare, but sometimes the temperature regulators went haywire or shut off entirely and turned the Maximus into an oven. And while turning out was almost easy to do as long as the shield arrays were projected properly before so, bailing out of the tank a few seconds later could make all the difference.
Fitz relaxed her salute without a second thought and did not even stand at attention anymore. When she heard her future CO's question, she had to hold back a laugh, though she did a poor job of it. "If you wanted, just ask." She grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, even moving forward so all that was on Juno's screen was her bare breast.
She knew that wasn't what Juno meant, but she had plenty of service in a tank already, her record spoke for her in whether she was willing to do what was needed to get the job done.
After a few seconds of teasing, she stepped back and pulled her shirt down. "I won't let anything get in the way of operating the gun."
Juno made a mental note. The 309th had a stripper for celebrations.
"I'm glad to hear it," he tapped his metal hand's large finger against the button to share her military career on the right side. Her service definitely spoke more than her nipple-cushions.
"I intend to have you on a transport to the system as soon as possible. The situation here requires a steel stomach as much as a steel set of tits to keep you from getting killed by an internal rupture. They all love to shoot very big bombs toward the battlefield from orbit. One rocked our tank... so trust me when I say that you need to be ready for an intense battlefield."
Fitz smirked at Juno's words. "I want wanted to keep my chest all organic. I do some steel in me though." She flexed her cybernetic left arm.
"Seriously though..." She folded her arms and sighed. "My last deployment, shell pierced the hull and took my whole left arm and some of my insides. I got intense down. Just make sure whoever is in the tank has the balls to keep up."
"I wouldn't worry about her keeping up. Just worry about her putting a wig on you and eating you out while you sleep." Juno scoffed as he looked at the door leading out to the bunks. "Our driver is the only one that's eccentric, but she can do her job. You keep your tits in-line and keep that barrel firing down-range, then we'll function well-off."
Tapping through the display to the one highlighting her tits, he put a screenshot on it and then slipped it off to the personnel files. Might as well have one for the boys and girls to hang up on the boards, displays, and within the tank. A nice pair like hers could keep morale up in a platoon of mostly men and man-like women.
"I'm signing your papers, Corporal. The General already wanted you with us, but consider this the closest thing to approval you're going to get until you show you've got the guts of a proper Ruthless Rider."
Fitz smiled, she would be able to get back in the gun seat of a Maximums once more. It wasn't Longhorn, but one of his brothers, so it would satisfy her just the same. "You didn't make a bad choice Lieutenant, I'll be on the next ship over." She chuckled lightly, an obviously excited look in her eyes. "I wonder if he likes it gentle or rough..." She licked her lips, nearly forgetting that her CO was watching.
It was far from the weirdest thing a Kuznyetski man could hear. There were girls and guys alike back home that found their guns to be more erotic than any man, woman, or supersoldier machine catgirl. But that was precisely why he'd left his old communal behind.
"Just don't get our seats wet or you'll be cleaning them, Corporal. Juno out."
A tap to the button ended their call, though he was sure it wasn't ending her fantasies. It wasn't the first or last interview he'd need to finish... and part of him figured maybe it wouldn't hurt to spread her image around the platoon and make a nice reputation among the desk jockeys. It'd give them something to do while the main group fought, at least.
During the Interluding Month
"This one is... eccentric."
Juno put the datapad down, sitting within the FOB in his little workspace. It was lights out for most of the group, with the makeshift walls and door thrown up around him ensuring his conversation with the General was at least somewhat private.
"She's decorated. A proficient transfer."
"But we already have a gunner. And the other one, the radio operator... he brings us to four. How am I supposed to fit a fifth inside?"
A soft hiss could be heard, Whooper nuzzling and investigating the camera that the General was on the receiving end of. The screen was briefly snake-mouth, but the little reptile lowered and allowed the pair to see one another again.
"You can stand in the commander's seat, remote-link the radio comms into the driver's cabin. Put a chair in there for him to sit and operate your communications and be the eyes if your driver needs to turn out. His original chair can go to your new gunner, she can help with the loading and operate your command turret."
The process was at least sound, Juno looking to his papers with a soft grunt of approval.
"I don't like customizing my tanks, but I guess that's fine. Do you have her on comm-link, General?"
"Of course, Lieutenant. Speak with her, then once you see that the Corporal is capable, contact me again and we'll finalize the transfers."
Juno gave a nod and a half-aware salute with his human hand, his robotic hand moving to gently tap the comm-switch button on his station. The hum of the machine as it contacted the fleet in orbit of New Bernese, acting as a relay, was all it took before it buzzed and alerted the Corporal to ready herself for a video call.
Seated alone in a conference room was the orange haired Corporal in question. She was bored from waiting but she had enough restraint to deal with the process if it meant she could get inside a Maximus again. It was so much better than a K4, the gun was larger, and there was more focus on raw manly power, unlike the 'trendy' K4 with all its accessories and gadgets.
Corporal Wallace was not allowed to day dream too long though, the sound of an incoming call shook her out of her fantasies. She sighted and straightened herself up, offering a salute quickly after hitting the button.
"Corporal Wallace present, Sir."
The sight of Wallace in her gussied up and saluting state earned a somewhat excessive sigh from Juno. The intent had been to recruit experienced soldiers, not ones that huffed up and tried their hardest to salute. A good soldier understood formalities weren't essential as much as discipline and directness.
"At ease," he gave small salute back with his rather large mechanical hand, "As the acting commander of ground operations within New Bernese, under authority of General Wiegand, have to ask... why do you think you'd be a good fit for my gunner, Miss Wallace? And, if you were made one, would you have issues removing your clothes in the case of temperature meltdown within the vehicle to ensure a prolonged service?"
While he hadn't battered one specific nerd within the vehicle about such a topic, it was common knowledge that a tanker had to be willing to strip down if a tank began to heat up. It was rare, but sometimes the temperature regulators went haywire or shut off entirely and turned the Maximus into an oven. And while turning out was almost easy to do as long as the shield arrays were projected properly before so, bailing out of the tank a few seconds later could make all the difference.
Fitz relaxed her salute without a second thought and did not even stand at attention anymore. When she heard her future CO's question, she had to hold back a laugh, though she did a poor job of it. "If you wanted, just ask." She grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it up, even moving forward so all that was on Juno's screen was her bare breast.
She knew that wasn't what Juno meant, but she had plenty of service in a tank already, her record spoke for her in whether she was willing to do what was needed to get the job done.
After a few seconds of teasing, she stepped back and pulled her shirt down. "I won't let anything get in the way of operating the gun."
Juno made a mental note. The 309th had a stripper for celebrations.
"I'm glad to hear it," he tapped his metal hand's large finger against the button to share her military career on the right side. Her service definitely spoke more than her nipple-cushions.
"I intend to have you on a transport to the system as soon as possible. The situation here requires a steel stomach as much as a steel set of tits to keep you from getting killed by an internal rupture. They all love to shoot very big bombs toward the battlefield from orbit. One rocked our tank... so trust me when I say that you need to be ready for an intense battlefield."
Fitz smirked at Juno's words. "I want wanted to keep my chest all organic. I do some steel in me though." She flexed her cybernetic left arm.
"Seriously though..." She folded her arms and sighed. "My last deployment, shell pierced the hull and took my whole left arm and some of my insides. I got intense down. Just make sure whoever is in the tank has the balls to keep up."
"I wouldn't worry about her keeping up. Just worry about her putting a wig on you and eating you out while you sleep." Juno scoffed as he looked at the door leading out to the bunks. "Our driver is the only one that's eccentric, but she can do her job. You keep your tits in-line and keep that barrel firing down-range, then we'll function well-off."
Tapping through the display to the one highlighting her tits, he put a screenshot on it and then slipped it off to the personnel files. Might as well have one for the boys and girls to hang up on the boards, displays, and within the tank. A nice pair like hers could keep morale up in a platoon of mostly men and man-like women.
"I'm signing your papers, Corporal. The General already wanted you with us, but consider this the closest thing to approval you're going to get until you show you've got the guts of a proper Ruthless Rider."
Fitz smiled, she would be able to get back in the gun seat of a Maximums once more. It wasn't Longhorn, but one of his brothers, so it would satisfy her just the same. "You didn't make a bad choice Lieutenant, I'll be on the next ship over." She chuckled lightly, an obviously excited look in her eyes. "I wonder if he likes it gentle or rough..." She licked her lips, nearly forgetting that her CO was watching.
It was far from the weirdest thing a Kuznyetski man could hear. There were girls and guys alike back home that found their guns to be more erotic than any man, woman, or supersoldier machine catgirl. But that was precisely why he'd left his old communal behind.
"Just don't get our seats wet or you'll be cleaning them, Corporal. Juno out."
A tap to the button ended their call, though he was sure it wasn't ending her fantasies. It wasn't the first or last interview he'd need to finish... and part of him figured maybe it wouldn't hurt to spread her image around the platoon and make a nice reputation among the desk jockeys. It'd give them something to do while the main group fought, at least.
