Editing Love and Krieg (section)

===Final Inspection===
One day at dinner I realized that I had never met the rest of Krieger Female Model 68b #6345's family. Remembering the somewhat odd meeting with her identical sisters I was fearful of what the meeting might entail but I decided that I owed it to her. I asked her if she ever wanted to introduce me to her folks.

Even through her thick greatcoat I could see the suggestion terrified her. Her stoic nature broken by at least a minute of horrified hand wringing. To comfort her I told her it was just a suggestion, if she was too scared we didn't have to.

This got her to snap into stillness and moments later she marched out of the room. Sounds from the bedroom were terrifying and she had locked the door from the inside. I ended up falling asleep on the couch.

When I woke up the next morning I found her huddled up against me. As I put my hands around her, I felt her hands were still locked together in a nervous hand grip. Trying at first to pry them loose (and giving up) I instead settled on holding them instead. After a while she grasped back. She snuggled deeper in and we enjoyed ourselves for at least another hour, doing nothing on the couch. The longest time I had ever seen her inactive.

After a while though, it seems even the comfort of our embrace was not enough to keep her still and she launched to her feet, taking me with her.

As I stood up I realized she was wearing her full dress uniform, neatly pressed and medals gleaming brightly. Sans her gas mask I noted how neat her hair was. Straightened out and properly policed. She noted the crinkles in her dress with a look of irritation and spent the next few minutes ironing them out.

The door bell rang. As I opened it, I was greeted by a crisp salute. This was the first I had seen of a male Krieger guardsman up close and they were every bit as stoic as their female counterparts. I saluted lamely back and I swear he was wearing a sympathetic look under his mask. He handed me a crisp note.

'Your Presence is required at the Company CP. Report in immediately.'

The signature underneath was neat but the words were alien to me. I handed the note to Krieger Female Model 68b #6345, who accepted it with a sigh of defeat.

The next few hours were spent at a terrifying pace as she relentlessly undressed me and put me into a suit not so dissimilar as her own. I realized she had probably spent all night making it. Next she worked on my salute, my posture and my bearing. She tried to get me to handle her rifle but I refused.

Finally she led me outside where I was surprised to find a neatly parked armored vehicle outside, complete with Krieger guardsman detachment, standing in perfect formation. Had they been waiting all morning?

As I exited the house, in unfamiliar clothes and prompted into an aggressive marching pace I wondered what exactly I had gotten myself into.

As I struggled to match Krieger Female Model 68b #6345's relentless pace down the front garden, the men who had been waiting at the side of the ferocious looking transport lined up alongside me and followed me in.

Inside it was uncomfortable and cramped, but I noted that me and Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 had been given the front most seats and that some of the others had been forced to stand in order to give us room.

As the transport rumbled along I noted the sparse documentation the lined the walls of the dark hold. Right of Ownership for Chimera APC to 68th Line Infantry Battalion. Command Platoon. Commanded by Krieger Model 68.

It didn't take long to put two and two together. All her sisters had the suffix 68. Whoever Krieger Model 68 was must've been their father. Apparently I was dating the daughter of a military officer. And if military dads are notorious for being hard to please, how much worse would it be that I had to please a Krieger dad?

A shotgun welcome may not have been entirely out of the question.

As we rumbled along in silence I couldn't help but notice that Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 was decidedly down. Her usual stiff posture and uncompromising body language had given way to nervous slouching and almost obsessive hand wringing. Her eyes moved erratically as she calculated what I assumed were all the worse case scenarios possible.

I knew this was my fault. I had managed to turn my perfect little soldier girl into a trembling wreck. I pulled her close and planted a kiss on her forehead.

At first she struggled and resisted but I could tell by her lack of force it was superficial. She gave in and rested her head against my shoulder. She was given some looks by the other soldiers in the hold, whose eyes she couldn't meet despite their masks. I glared at those who seemed able to judge her with a glance and they quickly turned their heads upward, chins held high.

Better than nothing.

The journey took a turn for the worse as the relatively smooth ride we were having started to get progressively more bumpy. I did my best not to complain.

Finally the loading doors opened and the troopers in front of us marched out in perfect order. As I stood to stand up she pulled me back down. Checking to make sure we were alone in the dark hold she gave me one of the fiercest hugs I had ever received. Then got up without another word.

We both exited the hold together.

Whatever this place was before the Kriegers took garrison duty it certainly wasn't civilian any more. The dirt ground was marked by the depression of thousands of military boots marched in perfect cadence. In the distance even the smoke that rose from the rows of perfect tents seemed to keep straight despite the wind.

In front lay a larger tent to which the Guard who had accompanied us on the journey had formed a line to. I'm sure it was intended to be more honorary than intimidating but it didn't help to notice they had not left a single avenue of escape between the hold of the Chimera and the tent entrance.

As we reached the top of the little slope I realized that the camp spread for miles and miles around. Further to the front I noted that the mini-earthworks that Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 had erected in front of my house were an almost perfect replication of those that stood proud in the distance in the horizon. Albeit with a lot more men and some mean looking long barreled artillery pieces.

A guard held the tent flap open with one hand and saluted as Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 stepped in. I followed after.

Good lord.

The tent wall was lined with decorations, banners and other military paraphernalia. However, these were strewn about haphazardly, as if they were here more for storage reasons than for the Commander to remind himself of his glorious achievements. Aside from the clutter, the remainder of the tent seemed conspicuously sparse. A thin looking bed, a working desk and a dining table was all that occupied the rest of the large space that rank afforded the General. The only weakness it seemed he allowed himself was a small picture frame that lay downwards on his work desk.

Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 coughed loudly and nudged me violently. I realized in my rush to take in the surroundings I had failed to acknowledge the man I had come in to impress.

He too was dressed in impressive uniform though it contained many more shining medals than Krieger Female Model 68b #6345.

He was rough looking, and could almost be considered weathered if his terrifyingly scarred face did not put that description to shame. He held his hands behind his back and his face held one of expectation.

Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 saluted sharply and I was fast to follow her lead. This seemed to please him and a pleasant smile crossed his face. He saluted us back and crossed over to his daughter who he hugged awkwardly. I could see as he approached me that he was puzzling over civilian greeting etiquette. I put him out of his misery by grabbing his hand and shaking it warmly. This too seemed to meet with his approval.

He gestured us over to the dining table, and motioned for us to sit. We sat in silence for a few moments and I couldn't help but feel that the looks that Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 and Model 68 shared were some sort of silent communication that I would otherwise have to ignore. Eventually he slipped me a piece of paper.

It had my name on the top and seemed to be a collection of information that had been acquired since I had entered the Imperial Schooling System. Nothing too personal but enough to make me nervous. He cleared his throat loudly and thumped his finger pointedly at the bottom, where a verification signature was required. I signed.

He smiled again and clapped his hands. A guardsman emerged from outside bearing what looked like lunch. We dined on a bunch of hastily prepared yet surprisingly tasty sandwiches. At the end he seemed intent on scrutinizing me, locking me into a stare he was happy to maintain.

A squeeze under the table from Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 told me she had my support. Heartened, I matched him, stare for stare.

After what seemed like an age he broke off and smiled again. The grip on my hand under the table tightened. He stood up sharply and offered me his hand. I was puzzled for a moment until I realized all he wanted to do was shake. I returned the offered hand with a hearty grasp.

The test seemingly passed, he returned behind his work desk. As he sat down he gave another one of his small smiles.

'Inspection Passed. Dismissed.'

The look on Krieger Female Model 68b #6345 was ecstatic and her return salute was not its usual strict self but did not lack for enthusiasm. She took my hand and led me out of the tent with a generous yank.

Once we were outside she quickly pulled me into a fierce embrace and gave a little giggle before kissing me passionately on the lips.

This drew several irritated coughs from nearby but she didn't seem to care. And if she didn't neither did I.

She almost skipped back down the path with me in tow, back into the still rumbling hold of the chimera. The trip home was decidedly less nervous and I swear I almost got her to laugh on the trip back.

As soon as we reached home she slammed the door shut and gave me a sly look. My confusion did not help the matter as she shoved me towards the bedroom and manhandled me onto the bed.

The next kiss was one of fierce passion and longing and my mind almost slipped away in bliss. What came next was almost surprising. For such a good little soldier she was surprisingly gentle and sensitive to the touch. Several times her silence was broken just by the sensation of touch but her gasps of pleasure were music to the ear. I moved on from touching, much to my and her delight.

She was soft and very yielding. Any pretense of stoicism was lost as I entered, electing a series of delicious wriggles and squirms of delight as she struggled under me. Her usually emotionless face was contorted with smiles and her mouth was now constantly locked in a giant O from which I could hear her Ooooing in delight.

From her comfortable warmth and the sound she made, it wasn't long till I had to give in. As I slumped down, finished, to the side of the bed. She mounted me from the top with a sly grin. Obviously, we were not done yet.

...

The next morning was the first time I had seen her at the table in something less than her summer fatigues. Granted they seemed to be Imperial Regulation Exercise Clothes but it was the most relaxed I had ever seen her. As I rose from the room, wiping my eyes of morning dew I let out an oomph as she tackled me fiercely to the ground.

We were content to lie there and let her rations grow cold, just hugging for who knows how long. I took a sick day.

Later in the evening when she was showering, I found myself answering a knock at the door. Another Krieg Guardsman with another letter. With a salute and a salute returned he was gone, off into the night.

On the note, a simple message, the bottom signed with the again illegible scrawl I took to be the signature of Model 68.

'Grant her Permission to Speak.'

...