=\\TACTICAL WAIFU QUEST//=
Part 19: After Action
Your name is James Ryan, Major, US Army Rangers. You used to be an airborne infantryman before a bad jump wrecked your back something fierce, and you've just ran your first op from your headquarters. It was a strange experience, one that you imagine every officer eventually shares.
You couldn't shake the lingering feeling that you should be out there with your girls. They were swimming though freezing water and putting their lives on the line, where your biggest worry was if your coffee would be to hot. You know you'd just slow them down, you were never
that great of a swimmer, and you certainly weren't the exemplar of peak physical condition that Shelby was. But… still.
Of course, it didn't help things that you spent the whole mission struggling to look anywhere
but the camera feed. Your girls are all pretty, and the done's camera seemed incapable of ever
not catching a lens full of at least one of their shiny swimsuit-covered asses. Shelby's bubble butt seemed to be the most popular among the sex-starved chair-force virgins driving the Global Hawk, but you weren't quite sure. You spent most of the mission squinting though laced fingers and trying to think pure thoughts.
It didn't really work, to be honest. But at least it gave you something to think about that didn't involve Riley's hips.
Things only got worse once the VTOL got back to base. Riley's team had already ditched their armor, and Riley herself had stripped down to her shimmering gray undershirt. (But all the gear strapped around her belt only exaggerated her already physiologically-improbably hourglass figure.) She didn't hug you though, apparently she'd gotten a little sweaty running though the woods and wanted to shower up.
Shelby gave you no such respite. She insisted on giving you a full after-action right away, without even pausing to change out of her slick swimsuit. She took the time to get her armor, gear, and anything that might possibly impeded your view of her sinewy figure stowed, of course, but throwing on pants would just take too much time.
She, of course, didn't seem to notice what she was doing. She could hardly have been more professional if she was wearing full dress ASUs—which reminded you, the uniforms should be in any time now. And… as you let her go though her presentation, there was a certain grace to her swimsuited figure.
She didn't have the swooshy-swooshy hips of Riley, or the magnificent mamaries of Marie, but there was a statuesque grace to her sleek body. You'd almost call it a work of art, like one of the great renaissance sculpture given life. The way she moved, the way her slick swimsuit glistened in the light… she was like poetry in motion. And not some half-assed hallmark limerick, but a full sonnet written by a master of the pen.
Of course, every time she turned around you couldn't help but notice the bubble butt straining to escape her swimsuit. Mostly because of the
Booigigigig sound that echoed somewhere in your mind every time she turned. Part of you wanted to talk to Burke about this, but you're pretty sure it'd be the same answer as when you asked about Marie's slow-motion field.
You make a mental note to consider forcing the girls to give their reports in uniform. Or at least while wearing pants.
"And that concludes my report." Shelby brought her feet together and snapped off a crisp salute. She looked professional enough—even
with her swimsuit—to be on the silent drill team. You at least count that as a plus.
"Thank you," you smiled, looking her square in the eye and praying your gaze wasn't somehow deflected. You were no scientist, but you knew a bit about gravitational lensing. And you wouldn't put it past these girls to use the same thing to ensure you got an eyeful of their figures. "Dismissed."
But, thankfully, nothing happened. Shelby gathered her things and trotted back to her room. Just as the door closed, you saw her reach down, probably to pick her suit out of her rear, but you looked away too quickly to be sure. Poor girl probably thought the door had already closed when she did that. You don't want to embarrass her, so you made a point not to bring it up.
Once that's taken care of, you've got time to field some calls from the brass. General Thomas is impressed that you took the listening post with no casualties—and without even a single piece of intel damaged. As a reward, he's kicked a bit of black discretionary funds your way.
It's not much, but you could afford to send a few girls into town to buy some decent food, and renovate one of the rooms on base. It's not much, but it's a start…
- - -
wat do with money?
>Renovate water system. Give the girls hot showers and let Riley and Annabelle swim in a pool that won't freeze their tits off.
>Renovate the sleeping quarters. The girls could use some proper beds, nice warm covers, and general niceties to make them feel at home.
>Renovate the common room: Get some couches and beanbags for the girls to lounge in, maybe a tv and some gaming systems too.
wat do with girls?
>Stop for food on your clothes shopping trip with Riley and Shelby.
>Send someone else to get food (Specify who)
>You know what? Bring everyone shopping. Lord knows how hard it'll be to find clothes that fit them without them there to try them on.
Wat do with decorum?
>Order the girls to do all reports in uniform
>No. Your girls will do their AARs in glistening wet swimsuits. This is normal now.
/s