Editing Commissar Techpriestess love story (section)

=== Chapter 27 ===
Rogal nodded, “So long as you’re the one in charge,”
Octavia blushed, nodding, “I am. This is what is going to happen,” she began explaining. They would redo the augment mount, adding a fully integrative neural bridge, as opposed to the standard interface that was provided, as well as anchoring the entire mount to his bones via biografting techniques, rather than the both sheath method. The arm itself, she explained, was based on the older JENSEN design, but would be using the newer DENTON arcology system, which allowed a far greater measure of control and dexterity, matching and in some cases, exceeding his old arm. Rogal nodded, the majority of the complex terminology going over his head.
“So I will still be able to carve and work timber like I used to,”
Octavia nodded, clapping her hands excitedly, “Oh yes, of course you will, and given time to get used to the new abilities in your arm, you might even do it better. The arm will also feature full modular capabilities, as well as interface ports for the most common linkages, as well as for standard imperial powerfists.”
Rogal nodded again, “Right, well, that sounds about right then. Should I be awake for this?”
Octavia paused for a moment, “I suppose you could be, if you want to watch, we’ll just use a local rather than general anaesthetic, but it’s really up to you, sir,”
The commissar shook his head, “I’d rather not. Just put me to sleep and do what you do best,”
Octavia smiled at him, pushing her way out from the group and circling behind him, “I will. Just think, a little bit of me will always be a part of you now,” she said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss her lover on the cheek.
“I like that,” Rogal said, gently stroking Octavia’s cheek, “I like that a lot.” He pulled himself forward to kiss her, their lips dancing for a moment, before he pulled away.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll take that anaesthetic now,” the commissar said, settling into the cushioned chair, “Let you get to work,”
A priestess gently cupped a mask over his face, and Rogal breathed deeply, drifting off to unconsciousness once more.  Octavia gently stroked at his hair, her lover looked so peaceful. A couple of emotes popped up in her vision from various techpriests and priestesses, smiling or ‘dawwwing at the moment. Octavia clapped her hands to get their attention, a hiss of binary spilling from her lips. The mechanics team began moving as one, a pair moving in on Rogal’s arm to replace the mediocre mounting point, the rest spreading out to work stations, the chatter and whine of fabrication filling the workspace once more.
Slowly, the arm took shape, ceramite bones were wrapped in complex fiber bundles, layering over one another, twitching as small currents flowed through them. The mounting point now gleamed, obsidian metal only interrupted by the golden connection ports that would interface human nerves and complex circuitry. Actuators were fabricated, nano genus mechadendrites pushed to their limits. A hand took shape, matching as best it could to Rogal’s remaining one, the fingers long and skilful, the actuators within stronger than his flesh ever could be. With a click, the hand met forearm, the fibre bundles writhing as they interfaced, the fingers curling in and out. Hours had passed, many cups of recaf had been drunk, and Octavia sat at the table, inspecting every aspect of her lovers augmentation. The mechanics were done, the arm now an obsidian and silver parody of the flesh it replaced. A wet hiss filled the workspace, as the coverplates were quenched, gleaming black ceramite plates of various sizes being laid out, Octavia’s nimble mechadendrites manipulating them, etching litanies of durability onto the back of each one in her flowing script. 
The plates were then installed over the arm, the small silver self-locking screws pulling each plate tight over bundled muscle. Octavia plugged a mechadendrite into the access port, data streaming past her vision as she coded the augment, feeling for the first time Rogal’s digital self. Her cognitor gasped, the sheer power contained within his body astounding it. Her fleshbrain smiled smugly, pointing out how she had been right all along. Her cognitor waved her over, showing her how the commissar’s muscle memory was automatically superimposing itself into her programming, and gave praise to the Omnissiah. Complex algorithms detailing the precision of his old muscles astounded the priestess, as she watched with fascination at the melding of man and machine. The hand moved now of its own accord, gracefully going through the test motions. The code compiled, her cognitor sat mute, words failing her, as the arm’s machine spirit finished itself, rearing up in the form of a massive Clydesdale. The metaphysical construct trotted towards her cognitor, stopping at the fence where the arm ended and the coding sandbox began. Her cognitor reached out and stroked the machine spirits muzzle, and it whinnied happily, nuzzling back at her. Her fleshbrain smiled, her cognitor finally understanding what she saw in the massive man. Patting the machine spirit one last time, her cognitor left the sandbox, and with a click, her mechadendrite unplugged from the port,  The anesthetist pulled the mask from Rogal’s face, Octavia brushing her hair from her face with a mechadendrite, before leaning over to kiss her still sleeping lover. He groaned,  opening his eyes to slits,
“Is it over?”
Octavia nodded, gently stroking his new arm, the commissar grinning at the sensation,
“Yes, my love, it’s over.”

Rubbing his face with his hands, he let out a yawn, “I had the weirdest dream, you had bought this horse for me, and some stuff happened and I can’t remember much else, but you bought me a horse.”
Octavia giggled, as techpriests and priestess’s congratulated one another on a job well done. They had fabricated the arm from scratch in record time, which would entitle them to a bonus in requisition power for the next month.
“The dream was just the machine spirit bonding to you. It’s a good arm, it’s strong, like you.”
Rogal smiled, pulling Octavia onto his lap and kissing her cheek. She giggled again, lifting his new arm up to the light so they could both study it. Rogal chuckled, looking at the tiny hands that held his massive arm aloft,
“We match,” He said, putting his hand next to hers, Octavia nodded happily,
“Same basic model, mine’s got a few more peripherals, but I figured you wouldn’t need many.”
The commissar nodded, hugging his woman close, “I’m a simple man,”
“I know, that’s why you got basic functionality, but a massive boost to durability. That’s ceramite plating, you could stop a bolt round with it, or an orkish axe.” She added the last bit with a macabre giggle, and Rogal sighed,
“Yeah, right after I need it,” He said, before laughing. The priests and priestesses dispersed, some going for more recaf, others headed for their bunks, leaving the pair alone in the workspace. The vehicle pit was quiet, the bustle of the day replaced with the sedentary buzz of night. The pair sat, Octavia still in Rogal’s lap, enjoying the quiet, the techpriestesses mind slowly wandering. Her man was home from war, wounded, but alive, and now with a glorious augmentation of her own building. That augmented hand now rested on her inner thigh, as he gently nuzzled at her neck and cheek. 

Octavia jumped, and Rogal pulled his augmented hand back, his fingers blurring. With a click, they stopped, and he looked at the woman in his lap.
“What is that for?”
Octavia blushed, her fleshbrain now excited, he was learning the features of his new limb.
“I thought, seeing as you work with wood, that having an in built orbital sander like capability would be useful,”
Rogal looked at his hand again, switching through the various vibrational settings his hand now had, the low hum quickly escalating to a whine, before clicking off. Caelistis’s words rang in her head, about seizing moments, something which was now driven home after seeing her injured lover. She twisted on his lap, straddling him on the reclined chair, her Emerald eyes shining happily. Her mechadendrites opening her robe, she guided his hand to her stomach, 
“Of course,” She added, her cheeks burning now with her wanton comment, “There are other uses,”
The huge commissar grinned, moving his hand over polished plates and up to the soft flesh covered in white fabric. The techpriestess let out a low moan, as augmented fingers flicked over firm perky nubs. Rogal switched his hand to its lowest setting, smiling contentedly at the reaction it bore. On his lap, Octavia jerked, her back arching as she planted her hands on his chest.
“Little lower,” He gasped, her tiny hand having slapped down on where the Ork’s spiked kneepad had punched into his lung. Octavia pulled her hand back, a stream of apologies on her lips,
“Omnissiah’s cogs, I’msosorryRogalI’msoclumbsyand-“
The petite priestess was cut off by the commissar pulling her down to kiss him. The slow, powerfully vibrating hand made its way from her chest and down her spine, sliding down over her elegantly curved rear and back to her thigh.
Octavia let out a shuddering gasp, having missed the commissar’s touch. Her fleshbrain moaned in ecstasy as her potential coil surged to life. Rogal’s cold hand traced longingly over the pale flesh at the top of her legs, his ceramite fingertips causing sparks to fly from the lace like electoos. She moaned into the kiss, her tongue flicking across his lips hungrily as she pulled herself closer. Rogal’s massive hand splayed across her back, fingers and mechadendrites entwined, as the passion that separated lovers reunited share fuelled them both. Octavia’s mechadendrites moved of their own accord, opening the buttons on her lovers shirt, as his hand splayed against the burning heat between her legs, humming softly. Throwing her head back, she moaned, as vibrations hit that massive cluster of densely packed pleasure feeling nerves, the commissar burying his face in her neck, nipping and biting with reckless abandon. Her hips gyrated down on the huge bulge in the commissar’s pants, her mechadendrites working at his belt buckle. The crisp white fabric that covered her was pushed aside, and Octavia gasped again, the night air cool, and Rogal’s mechanical finger cooler against the blazing heat inside her, as gently, he worked a humming finger inside her. Back arching even more, Octavia bit her lip, moaning wantonly, grinding down harder on the commissar,
“Please, sir,” she begged, her mechadendrites finally undoing his trousers, “It’s been so long, I need you,”
Rogal grinned, “As you wish, M’lady,” 

He fumbled for his pocket, Octavia giggling as she reached into her own in her robe, pulling out the protection her lover sought,
“Caelistis said I should stock up for your return, so I did,”
Rogal grinned, “Oh she did, did she?”
Octavia nodded, as she tore the packet open with her mechadendrites, taking the rubbery disc and rolling it over Rogal’s lascannon.
Passion overruled everything as the pair crashed together, Octavia bouncing atop her lover with unbridled lust, the massive commissar unable to keep his hands off her. Frantically, and with passion derived from the fear of never seeing one another again, and making sure they made the most of their time together, they indulged their humanity. Octavia gasped and moaned, her fleshbrain writhing with pleasure, realising how much she had missed the huge man beneath her. His buzzing hand ticked at her chest, teasing tender buds, his other clenched firmly around her waist. She began to slow, her body not used to the exertions, the commissar understanding instinctively. He deactivated his hand and stood, lifting the petite priestess with his unaugmented hand underneath her. He swept tools from a work bench and sat her down, her slender legs either side of his waist, as he began powering into her. His massive frame stood over her, tiny hands now balled in his shirt, as he drove into her again and again. Throwing her head back, she moaned, “Yesyesyesyesyesyes, by the Omnissiah’s grace, rightthere,yesyesyes,” she babbled, a mechadendrite plugging into the grounding port as the little bar in her mind neared its terminus. The huge commissar put on a burst of speed, and Octavia clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the ecstatic cry that threatened to come out. Her back arched, her fleshbrain cried out for more, and the little red bar hit full. Her hips bucked, and she clawed at the commissars back with her mechadendrites, her hands splaying out against his chest. With a grunt, he fired his lascannon, his hips moving back with recoil, before he let out a shuddering breath. He grinned down at her, their heavy breathing synchronised. 
“I love you,” He whispered, lowering his head down beside hers, nuzzling gently at her ear.
Tiny hands slid up over his massive chest, as she whispered back, “I love you too,”