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/tg/ - Traditional Games


PREVIOUSLY: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=Tank+Witches+of+Orussia

The next few days were occupied by training the lot of you into a fully effective fighting force. Judging by the fact that nobody has slowed down for Greta, and are now dispersing formation to engage the Neuroi dummies in individual combat, things are not going well. Aurelia wasn’t paying attention, and ended up knocking her Striker out on accident by rolling right into a rock poking out of a snowdrift. Thorn as well got too overzealous with blasting apart the dummies that she neglected to pay attention and was tagged out by infantrymen standing on the sides throwing baseballs at everyone. Rascal simply disappeared and reappeared right at your side, apparently having given up, and as for Greta well…

“Throw your baseballs at me!” she screams. A huge barrage of baseballs, tomatoes, cans, and other small items pelts off of her near-impenetrable shields. “I can do this all day!” One tomato flies right through a gap behind and smashes the back of her head. “Ow! Who did that!?”

“Hey, kraut!” One of the Liberion tanks stands atop his tank. “Here’s another fastball!” He throws another baseball at Greta, this time it nails her right on the leg, and she falls over.

Your entire tank force has been neutralized by a bunch of rowdy, drunk, tankers throwing baseballs.

You cross your arms. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to get the regulars involved.

“Alright, stop!” You call over the horn. The barrage of items slows to a halt as you walk out onto the now dirty and messy field. All the witches slowly come to as they realize that once again, they’ve failed to clear the area. “Guys. I’ve been telling you time and time again, you can’t just rush at the Neuroi. You’re going to get picked off.” You wag your finger. “It’s a principle in warfare, defeat in detail. They will try to stretch you thin so they don’t have to expend as much energy in beating you.”
>>
>>42438900
[2/4]

“Aw come on!” Thorn scoots up to you, nursing a slight bruise from a baseball hitting her on the cheek. “Let us have another go! We’ll get it right this time.”

“That’s what you said the last ten times,” says Rascal. “I’m not going to get belted by baseballs again.”

Greta huffs, stepping up next to you. “You are all idiots! It’s not about how you can hit, but how you can get hit! Thorn, your shields are too puny. Rascal is a coward. And Aurelia can’t even generate shields above the chest!” Aurelia digs herself out of the snow, angrily screaming. “You should be taking after my example!”

“Yeah, if your example is to drive five miles an hour. By the time you get to a battle, the war’s already over!” yells Thorn.

“You-“ Greta is ready to choke Thorn out, but you quickly slap her hands down and glare at her. She quickly retreats back, ashamed.

“Look. This is our last day you guys.” You place your hands square on your hips. “If we can’t impress the Colonel, there’s no way she’s going to let us see combat. Hell, after seeing us like this, there’s no way she’s going to let us even stay here! We have to get this right!” You stomp your foot. “Now fall back into formation!” Everyone grumbles, slowly rolling back to the start. There are twenty dummies to defeat. So far, they’ve managed to beat four in the past two hours you’ve been doing this. You move to the side, next to one of the parked tanks, and decide a new look on your notes is necessary.

“Runner!” You blink, looking back to see a soldier running up to you. Short man, looks like another Liberion rear echelon troop. “Letter for Sergeant uh…” He squares his eyes on the envelope. “… Um. Stain on the eh… Hehe…” He sheepishly blushes a bit, handing it to you. “Mighta dropped it on the way here. That’s yours.”

“Thanks.” You take it, rip it open, then take a read.
>>
>>42438909
[3/4]

SERGEANT,

REPORT TO MY OFFICE AT 1300 HOURS

NEED EVALUATION OF 130TH JOINT COMBAT TEAM IMMEDIATELY

DO NOT BE LATE AGAIN

AND DO NOT SHOW UP WEARING WRONG UNIFORM AGAIN

COLONEL JOHANNA R. HESSLER


You blink, quickly looking down. Yep, this is the right uniform. You check the time. 1230. Oh boy. “Um.” The runner tilts his head, quirking his brow. “Can I ask a favor? Could you watch my girls train? Just tell them I gotta meet with the Colonel. Now.”

He crosses his arms, smirking a bit. “I’m a runner, miss, I ain’t no errand boy.” You sigh, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a couple of cigarettes. “But I am today!” He swipes them from you, immediately lighting one up.

-

-

You knock on her door. “Come in.” You step inside to see Colonel Hessler, staring out of her window out onto the runway where the tanks are assembling. You salute, clicking your heels and standing up straight. “Take a seat.” You nod, quickly running to a chair and sitting down. “Sergeant. Let me be very clear with you.” She turns around, and leans on the desk. “The 1st Joint Armored Corps is initiating a counterattack into Orussian territory. We are going to liberate ground from the Neuroi starting today. 1st Joint Tank Witch squadron has already moved out in a force reconnaissance mission.”

A counterattack? Into Neuroi turf? You lean back, nodding slowly. “… so this means you want to know if the team is ready?”

“Yes.” She sits down in her chair, staring straight ahead at you. You melt in your chair, feeling yourself get smaller and smaller under her gaze. “Let me be clear. You must be honest with me. If you are not, there will be consequences.”
>>
>>42438928
[4/4]

“U-… um. Okay.” You cross your arms, looking at her in the eye. You quickly stop looking at her in the eye. Damn it. “Well, my team is um… they well.”

She continues staring at you, then looks at her watch. “Take your time.”

Why is it when people say take your time, they really mean hurry the hell up!?

> “They’re not ready.”
> “They’re ready.”
> Try to change the subject. You don’t know how to phrase this properly.
> Other
>>
>>42438949
> Try to change the subject. You don’t know how to phrase this properly.
That's a nice uniform!
>>
>>42438949
>“They’re not ready.”
Honesty. Bullshitting will just piss her off.
>>
>>42438949
>“They’re not ready.”
>>
>>42438949
> “They’re not ready.”
Is this the part where she lets us go ahead anyway to either prove ourselves or get rid of a headache?
>>
File: Hessler.jpg (99 KB, 850x499)
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> “They’re not ready.”

Please forgive this, guys. “They’re not ready.” Colonel Hessler nods, allowing you to continue. “I mean, we’ve made a lot of progress and we’re sticking together cohesively as a unit but… we can’t really get into our heads with working together on the field. And as much as I try and try, I can’t really train them. I’m so sorry, Colonel. That’s the honest truth. We’re not ready. I don’t think we’ll ever be ready in time.”

The Colonel frowns a little, leaning back in her seat. “That’s disappointing.” You feel something strike at your heart. “While indeed this mustering was quite unexpected, I had faith that you all could learn to at least work together but if you feel that is not the case, I must sideline the 130th for now. You will remain here on base until called for, until then keep training.”

You chew on the inside of your cheeks. “… a- are you not going to demote me?”

“I considered it.” Ow, your heart. Fuck. “But really the blame can be shared on your teammates as much as it can be on you. Indeed, I believe this stern talk we are having is more than enough punishment considering your reactions.” Are you really that animated? “Anyway, Sergeant. You are dismissed. Inform the team that they will be staying in the garrison during the counterattack.”

You nod, standing up. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Another thing, Sergeant.” She points to you. “I am truly disappointed that you were not able to make them ready within the week.” You look down. “But this does not reflect on you as a leader. It reflects on all of you as a whole. Think of this like that sport you play, cricket.”

“… You mean-“ You stop yourself. No, you’re not going to correct her. She’s trying to sympathize.

“You can have someone managing the best they can manage in the sport,” she says. “But, if a single subordinate fails to do their duty, the team collapses. As would say a clock or a centipede. Do keep this in mind, Sergeant.”

“… yes, ma’am.” You nod, saluting.

“Dismissed.”

[1/2]
>>
>>42439940
[2/2]

-

-

You arrive back at the hangar, feeling quite possibly the lowest you have ever felt in your life. Not only are you going to miss your chance to be at the tip of the spear, but you were told outright that not only your ability to lead is in question, but also the ability of the others to perform are as well. Your stomach hurts, it hurts so much.

And you find your team nursing themselves back at the hangar. They clean their clothes, brush their hair, and most importantly nurse the bruises they got from the training. Thorn looks up at you as she pulls on her socks. “Hey, Kid!” She smiles, standing up. “So, what did the Colonel want?”

“Oh, uh…” You shrug. “She uh… called me in, asked for-“

Greta blinks. “Is it about our deployment with the counterattack group?” Oh fuck. “I hope we get to deploy with the Tiger squadrons. We might be able to help even the odds with the Salvaged Shermans they’ve been facing.” You’ve heard of that. It’s the weirdest thing. Five Tiger tanks to one Salvaged Sherman with an 80% casualty rate. Deplorable and yet somewhat ironic.

“No, no,” says Thorn. “We’ll deploying with the cruiser tanks I’m sure! We’ve got speed on our side.” She looks Greta up and down. “… mostly.”

> “We’re not deploying at all.”
> Excuse yourself while they’re distracted.
> “We can talk about this later, hehehe, so who’s up for some crick- I mean baseball!?”
> Other
>>
>>42439960
> “We’re not deploying at all.”
Time for a confrontation!
>>
>>42439960
> “We’re not deploying at all.”
>>
>>42439960
> “We’re not deploying at all.”
>>
>>42439960
>“We’re not deploying at all.”
>>
Guess anons are unanimous this time around, honesty is best!
>>
>>42439960
>> “We’re not deploying at all.”
>>
> “We’re not deploying at all.”

“We’re not deploying at all!” You stomp your foot. Aurelia stops her brushing, Rascal looks up from her magazine, and Greta and Thorn look down at you with shock. Okay, not wise to just outright say it. “I told the Colonel that we weren’t ready.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as everyone looks at you. “We aren’t ready to go into combat, not the way we’ve been practicing.”

Thorn looks ready to bust a gasket. “You what?”

“Thorn, I-“

“No, hold on a second. You just told her we weren’t ready for combat!?” Thorn shoves her fists onto her hips, looking at you with disgust. “Are you serious!? We could be going out there right now and fighting! We could be on the front lines!”

Greta steps between you and her. “Are you suggesting she lie to the Colonel?”

“You-“

Greta crosses her arms, pouting deeply at Thorn. “Didn’t you once say to me that we definitely wouldn’t survive a minute out there like this?” Thorn pauses, still furious. “You’re expecting that she just lie to the Colonel? What would happen then?” Thorn’s fury starts subsiding, and she quickly turns around and storms off to her bed. She sits down and crosses her arms, stewing. Greta looks down at you. “You did the right thing. If you believe we’re not ready. I won’t argue. Honesty is the best policy.”

You nod. “Thank you, Greta.” So far, she’s been a better assistant leader than Thorn has. You sigh, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry everyone.” Aurelia grumbles, going back to brush her hair. Rascal meanwhile continues to read her magazines. As for Thorn, she simply stews in her own anger, grumbling as she lies back.

Honestly, you’re quite angry too. You really just want to knock something over or punch someone in the face! You are angry! You storm out of the hangar. “Where are you going?” asks Greta.

> “To get some lunch.”
> “I dunno. Exploring.”
> “I’m gonna go lift.”
> Other
>>
>>42440732
> “I’m gonna go lift.”
>>
>>42440732
> “I’m gonna go lift.”
>Maybe punch something too.
>>
>>42440732
> “To get some lunch.”
>>
>>42440732
>“I’m gonna go lift.”
>>42440778
Punching is good too.
>>
>>42440854
As long as we don't punch WHILE lifting.
>>
> “I’m gonna go lift.”

“I’m gonna go lift,” you say. You gently kick a discarded tin can out of the way and shove your way out of the hangar.

-

-

Exercise is usually a good form of stress relief. The anger built up in you dissipates with every squat you do, every rep on the large weights, every pull up, and every push up. You’ve dropped out of your uniform in favor of just your trousers and a tank top to keep it from being caked in sweat. Even in the cold of Orussia, things can get heated. Right now, you’ve connected a Panzer I to some chains and to a crane to form up a pulley system. Why? So you can work your arm muscles in pulling it up quickly and letting it drop gently.

Every lift of the little Panzer though reminds you further and further of your failure. You could be out there right now. The base feels so much emptier without all of the tanks. Nearly a division’s worth of soldiers, armor, and weapons are gone out to the frontline. You remember when the propaganda told you how every witch needed to do their duty, how every man, woman, and child would be needed for the fight against the Neuroi.

But that was 1939. This was 1945. The Neuroi might be fighting back, they definitely aren’t the powerhouses they used to be. Ever since the 501st destroyed one hive, and ever since the reclamation of Gallia and some parts of Guangzhou, it was looking and more like the Neuroi would be defeated. And not just driven back like in the First War, but for real. Their utter annihilation!

[1/2]
>>
>>42441855
[2/2]

And you were going to miss it.

You sigh, letting the chains pull gently on you and letting the Panzer I drop back to the ground.

“Hey.” You blink, looking over to see Greta. “Are you not cold?” You shake your head. She walks up to you, hands tucked beneath her body armor. “You must be quite strong, lifting that Panzer I like that.”

“Not really,” you mutter. “It’s more like a lifting thing you know so…” You shrug. “Yeah.” You grab the chains again, ready to pull.

“You know, I am sorry. Thorn wanted to say sorry as well but she could not face you. We all want to say sorry.”

“For what?” You look to her.

“For failing you.” Greta looks down, clearly uncomfortable with this. “I know this was important to you. And honestly it was important to me as well that we get to fight before the war ended.”

“How do you know for sure the war’s going to end?” you ask.

“Well it has to end some time,” says Greta. “Seems like it’ll be within the year at most.” You sigh, resting your hands on the chains. “… I like your trousers. They’re cute.”

> “Did you want to lift too?”
> “Greta, thanks, but I’d rather be alone.”
> “You shouldn’t be saying sorry. I failed you first.”
> Other
>>
>>42441874
>> “Did you want to lift too?”
>>
>>42441874
>“Greta, thanks, but I’d rather be alone.”
Gotta sulk more.
>>
>>42441874
> “You shouldn’t be saying sorry. I failed you first.”
>>
>>42441874
> “You shouldn’t be saying sorry. I failed you first.”
> “Greta, thanks, but I’d rather be alone.”
>>
>>42441933
Does sulking suit Kid?
>>
>>42442078
She's a teenage girl, so yes. But seriously, yes I think it actually does in this situation.
>>
>>42442165
Point. She's a good girl though...
>>
> “Greta, thanks, but I’d rather be alone.”

“Greta, thanks.” You sigh, looking down. “I’d… I’d really rather be alone right now though. You really shouldn’t say sorry about this, it was my fault.” You grip the chains, nearly crushing them in your hands. “Okay?”

Greta places her hands on her hips, then walks up to you. “You know, there are bigger things in war than just fighting. If you are looking to be a hero, there are other ways.” She smiles. “Try and be well, okay? Don’t strain yourself.”

You nod, and with that Greta turns around, walking away back to the hangar. You grimace. Is it really your fault? Well, it really feels like it is. You press down on the chains, hoisting the Panzer I into the air, and then you gently pull back and let it drop down gently. How are you going to get these girls to cooperate in time for you to see one battle, just one battle? One real fight?

You sigh. Maybe you should’ve stayed with Captain Kelly and her girls. Maybe you could’ve got there as their supply runner.

But no. No, you don’t want to stay a rear echelon trooper forever! This is one shot at getting to the frontline, and you are not going to squander it! You heft the Panzer I into the air again, yelling in exertion. Not this time.

-

-

You’re cooling down, relaxing on your bed. Greta and Thorn listen to the radio for anything interesting while Aurelia paints her fingernails. As for Rascal, god knows where she is. You wish you still had Grease Monkey to play catch with. Nobody here, despite their good reflexes, can catch a baseball to save their lives.

You could be out there right now. Maybe if you’re lucky the Neuroi will try for another base invasion. Most of the base is already empty, most of the soldiers are gone to fight. You check the time, almost time for dinner. You stand up and decide to cook a good chicken noodle soup. Simple enough.

[1/2]
>>
>>42443264
[2/2]

“Sergeant.” You blink, then look over. It’s the Colonel. You look down. Tank top and trousers. Severely underdressed. Um. Uh. “Come here.” You nod, walking to your footlocker. Everyone looks over in surprise, silencing themselves. “No, here now.” You nod, quickly walking over to her. “I just received a priority telegram from Captain Kelly at the front.” She hands the telegram to you. “Read it.”


REPORT

TIME 1620 STOP HAVE ENCONTRD NROI STOP ENGAGED BUT TOO MANY STOP PLEASE SEND REINFORCE STOP URGENT NROI HIVE ACE SPOTTED STOP

CPT KELLY


You stare at it. “Erm… wh- what does this mean?” Surely she doesn’t.

“You will be traveling with a reserve detachment of Tiger tanks.” Colonel Hessler looks down on you. “Frankly, it is unusual for Captain Kelly to request reinforcements in such a fashion, but we have little room for error. Fire your up your Strikers, you will be relieving her at the Frontline.”

You stare at the letter continuously. Greta, Thorn, and Aurelia all gather up around your shoulder. Is this telegram real? It can’t be. Captain Kelly never sends telegrams! But… it seems so official too, where would someone get the stationary for-

Wait.

“Colonel.” You look up at her. “Hold on.” You look back at some of the curtains in the back. Usually back there is where the girls change out of clothes after a shower or training. But here you lead everyone there, and pull back the shroud.

And there you find Rascal, with her own radio kit, a typewriter, an Enigma code machine, and various other decryption devices. She kneels down, headphones on her head, apparently not paying attention. You tap her shoulder, and she turns around, and her eyes widen in complete surprise. “… um.” She pulls down her headphones. “… hi.” She looks over at the telegram in your hands, then up at you. She very quickly shoves back equipment used to write telegrams behind her back.

> “Hi.”
> ANGRY, SO ANGRY, BREAK OUT THE ANGER
> “Colonel. Can we have a minute?”
> Other
>>
>>42443288
> ANGRY, SO ANGRY, BREAK OUT THE ANGER
>>
>>42443288

> “Hi.”
> ANGRY, SO ANGRY, BREAK OUT THE ANGER
>>
>>42443288
> “Hi.”
> “Colonel. Can we have a minute?”
>>
We're a rattlesnake girl right? If we're angry, do we rattle?
>>
>>42443288
>“Colonel. Can we have a minute?”
> ANGRY, SO ANGRY, BREAK OUT THE ANGER
On the one hand it's almost a nice gesture, on the other FUCKING HELL RASCAL.
>>
>>42443491
That'd be 2cute.
>>
>>42443288
> “Colonel. Can we have a minute?”
>>
>>42443288
>> “Colonel. Can we have a minute?”
>>
> “Colonel. Can we have a minute?”

“Colonel?” You smile at her. “Could you give us a minute?” She nods, slowly bringing the shroud around you and Rascal. It was now just the two of you, and you kneel down next to her.

“You’re angry,” says Rascal.

You nod. You’re so angry right now that you can feel the tail slipping out of your trousers and rattling loudly with fury. “I am so angry right now you would not believe. You just went behind my back and tried to dishonestly send us to the Frontline. Do you know how-“ You look at her equipment. “How did you even get this stuff anyway!?”

“I stole it.”

“… fair point.” You cross your arms, then stand up. “Rascal. I am unbelievably angry at you right now, so… furious!” You stomp your foot, and she flinches. “You just lied to the Colonel and not just made yourself look bad, but you made ME look bad! Especially ME! Do you know what happens to people who impersonate other people in the military!?” Rascal twiddles her fingers, pursing her lips and looking down in guilt. “They certainly get more than a spanking that’s for sure!” You place your hands on your hips. “Drop your trousers.”

“Wh…” She blinks, looking up. “What, I-“

“Drop. Trousers.” You look down at her, and the look you give to her is enough to pull her black and white striped trousers down to her feet. You pull up a chair. “Lap.” She lays down on your lap. “This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you!” Granted, that’s what your Daddy always said when he had to spank you for breaking something or lying, but in this case it really will hurt you more than it’s going to hurt her!

[1/3]
>>
>>42444640
[2/3]

You smack her bottom. You smack her bottom again and again. She yells, crying and screaming as she kicks and writhes from the pain of having her butt slapped into submission. You can only imagine what Greta, Aurelia, Thorn, and the Colonel are doing outside. Perhaps they’re cowering in fear of your punishment, perhaps they’re thinking that you’re weird that you’re spanking your subordinate for lying. But this isn’t about being a good mother. This is about authority!

And right now, yours is the law of the land!

“Owowowow!” Rascal whines, holding her swollen buttcheek. You gently let her off and let her sit back down. All she does is hiss in pain.

“Have you learned!?” you yell.

“Yes!” she cries, wiping some tears from her eyes.

“Good!” You rip the curtains out of their railing. “Now don’t ever do this again!” You drop it to the floor, walking past the shocked group of witches. “What are y’all looking at!?” You grab a bed, and throw it against a wall. “Think she can lie to get us into combat I oughta-“

Thorn leans over to Greta and Aurelia. “Remind me not to piss off the Kid.” They both nod.

Rascal looks up at you. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just wanted to help.”

“Next time, don’t do it in a way that embarrasses us like that!” you say, scolding her harshly. “You’re lucky the Colonel’s reasonable. Something like this could get a unit disbanded or people arrested!” You sigh, shaking your head. The Colonel crosses her arms, observing quietly. “Next time this happens, it’s going to be twenty lashes. Fair?”

Rascal nods, frowning. “Fair.”

“Good.” You look over at the Colonel. “Colonel, um, whatever punishment you have for me I’ll take it. But don’t-“

“No, it’s fine.” She nods. “Rascal has suffered enough. This was not your fault, so I will leave punishment to your discretion. However I-“
>>
>>42444661
“Colonel!” Lieutenant den Dekker stands at the hangar’s doorway. “Urgent news from the front.” He runs over, handing a letter to her. The Colonel tears open the envelope and gives it a quick read.

“What is it?” you ask.

The Colonel’s eyes flit over the wording. Everyone crowds around to see what it is. “Are you sure this is accurate and not Rascal’s doing?” den Dekker nods, looking over at Rascal skeptically. “How long ago?”

“Ten minutes, give or take.”

“Alright.” She hands the letter back to Lieutenant den Dekker. “Alert the General that reserve forces are being mobilized to plug the gap in that flank, I will attend to it personally once I have finished affairs back here. For now, I will send him what we have.” She looks over at you. “Including the 130th JCT.”

“What.” Thorn’s jaw drops. “Are you saying we’re going?”

“I have no choice, I don’t have the manpower to send anyone else,” says the Colonel. “You’re going.”



> “Yes!”
> “Everyone to their Strikers!”
> “… Rascal, was this your doing?”
> Other
>>
>>42444676
> “Everyone to their Strikers!”
>>
>>42444676
> “Everyone to their Strikers!”
Kid is surprisingly stern.
>>
>>42444676
> “Everyone to their Strikers!”
So that's how they conduct punishment of a corporal.
>>
>>42444676
> “Yes!”
Kid is surprisingly lewd!
>>
>>42444676
>“Everyone to their Strikers!”
We've got a job to do.

>>42444795
Kid is not lewd! There was nothing lewd about that.
>>
>>42444834
Spanking as a concept is one I only ever encounter in muh porn so it's lewd to me.
>>
>>42444795

Don't make me get the spray bottle, anon!
>>
>>42444676
>“Everyone to their Strikers!”


>>42444852
This was the unsexy kind.
>>
> “Everyone to their Strikers!”

“Everyone to their Strikers!” You all cheer, running to your Striker Units (or in Rascal’s case limping). Greta laughs madly, revving up her Striker, and speeding slowly out of the hangar. Past goes Aurelia, who laughs at Greta’s incredible slowness. Then goes Thorn, whooping and hollering at the chance to finally go back into combat once again. And then goes Rascal, still holding onto her bum, but quietly rolling out.

You step into your Striker, grabbing the Tommy Gun that Burnie loaned off to you. Colonel Hessler nods. “You’ll be joining a squadron of five Tiger tanks.” She holds out a map of the area to you, pinpointing where exactly she wants you to go. “There’s an outpost here on Hill 323 that we need secured first, that will be your destination. From there you will receive new orders from the man in charge. It’s fifty miles, but if the Neuroi break that outpost and force their way down our flank, our offensive will be in jeopardy!”

You nod. “Alright!” You thump your chest, grinning, your tail rattling with pride. “You can count on me, ma’am!”

“Good!” she says. “Now get going. I’ll join you in the next few days!” You nod, then roll out of the hangar. For once, it’s not to load artillery or move equipment. Now, it’s to go to the frontline, to see combat! You can’t help but smile, it starts to hurt to smile now! And yet you can’t stop smiling!

[1/2]
>>
>>42445674
[2/2]

You meet with the small detachment of Tiger tanks at the base’s gate. The lead tank commander motions you over. “You our escort?” he asks. You nod. He tips his peaked cap, a Karlslander, probably raised out of the tank academy. “Get out in front. If you start tiring, grab onto the back and we can tow you like your friend here!”

You look back to see Greta. She does not look amused at the chain around her waist being attached to the back of a Tiger. You have to suppress a giggle.

“Alright!” You give a thumbs up, and join Thorn, Aurelia, and Rascal up front. “Right everyone. V formation. Thorn, take point.” She nods, driving along. Rascal on the left, Aurelia on the right, and you behind.

Thorn grins, looking back at you. “Isn’t this great!? We’re gonna see a fight finally!”

> “Don’t get too excited.”
> GET EXCITED
> “Get moving Thorn, your fat ass is blocking the way!”
> Other
>>
>>42445687
> “Don’t get too excited.”
>>
>>42445687
> “Don’t get too excited.”
Night Schteel
>>
>>42445687
> GET EXCITED
>>
>>42445687

> "Don't get too excited"
> "Kid... Your tail is rattling, like... a lot."
>>
>>42445687
>> “Don’t get too excited.”
>>
>>42445687
>“Don’t get too excited.”

While grinning like a kid on Christmas and failing to convince anyone not to get exited.
>>
>>42445687
>“Don’t get too excited.”
Least convincing order ever.
>>
And I'm about to fall asleep, so goodnight GS, thanks for running!
>>
> “Don’t get too excited.”

Your tail rattles furiously. “Don’t get too excited, Thorn.” You wag your finger. “Don’t get cocky either. We are going into combat for the first time. So let’s not do anything stupid.” You snap your finger, pointing ahead. “Now take point. We’re moving to the front!” She nods happily, turning around and speeding off. “Alright!” You yell to the tank commanders. “Follow us!” Their tank engines roar, nearly splitting your ears as you start forward. The five Tiger I tanks move in single column behind you.

Your tail can’t stop rattling! This is so exciting! You’re finally getting to go into combat now! You have to stop yourself from screaming for joy. It’s like a dream come true. Aurelia on one side is bouncing as she rolls along. Rascal as well looks quite happy even despite having been spanked quite brutally. You look back to see Greta still unhappy at being towed. But once she sees you looking at her, she gives a thumbs up and a grin.

And as for Thorn, Thorn could not look any happier right now.

You grin happily, rubbing your hands together. Okay, Thorn is taking point. Greta will bring up the rear. You and Rascal are a blocking and attacking force, Aurelia will be the support. And the Tiger tanks will mop up the survivors! You may not be adept at formations or cohesive teamwork just yet, but none of those matters now. This is your trial by fire, your test of skill!

Night’s already fallen. Even if it is cold, you won’t be shivering. No, you’re warm with the excitement of the prospect of going in. You can’t stop the heat rushing all over your body, up your cheeks, down your legs and between your thighs, everywhere everywhere! You hug yourself, biting your lip. Oh… the thrill of combat!

“Um.” You blink, and find Rascal looking at you. She asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod quickly. “I’m fine! Pay attention to the road!” She nods, snapping her head around to look around.

At least it’s nightfall.
>>
>>42446954
That's it for tonight's #RALLYTANKWITICHES. Tomorrow is another chapter of Magical Girl Liberty. Hope you all enjoyed!

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/

See you next time.
>>
>>42446978
Thanks for running, boss.
>>
>>42446978

Very amusing.
>>
>>42446978
Thanks for running. Is Kid one of those people who gets turned on by combat? Are you glad I reminded you about the Rattlesnake rattle?
>>
>>42447019
Yes.
>>
>>42447019
>Is Kid one of those people who gets turned on by combat?
And then get instant Section 8'd when (if) they return from it?
>>
>>42447101
according to this>>42447030 It's possible.
>>
>>42446978
Thanks for the fun, boss.



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