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With wide eyes, Panzer stared at her officer before her. Jäger was smirking, eyes narrowed, her face a mere 20 centimeters from Panzer’s own. Her hand had pushed her shoulder against the wall, pinning her there. Confidence and seduction oozed from her frame as she leaned in a few centimeters more.
“Good girls like you deserve a reward, hmm?”
Bewildered and still wide eyed, Panzer fought to find her words. Jäger’s response was to raise her other hand, gently place a finger under her chin, and tilt her face up ever so slowly.
“Hmm, Panzer?” Her voice was low.
Her words were caught in her throat as her biomechanical heart raced and her face flushed with warmth. This couldn’t be real. Officer Jäger pinning her to the wall, calling her a good girl, moving her face closer-
“Ah - Officer Jäger… Y-yes..” She stumbled clumsily around her words. “I mean - yes, yes sir!”
Jäger chuckled. “Of course you do. I just wanted you to say it.”
Her officer’s wink was lethal, and her knees went weak. The only sound she could manage was a soft whimper.
“Well, what am I waiting for? Here’s your reward, Schatzi.”
Her superior leaned forward to close the distance between them, lips gently pursed as if to kiss. Panzer’s heart fluttered as she prepared for their lips to meet.
Instead of warm lips pressed against hers, Panzer was met with a blow to the back of her head. Pain blossomed in her neck as her head was forced forward and her daydream bubble was popped. She stumbled forward two steps, clutching the back of her head. “Ow… Whuh…”
Right, she was on the night guard shift. The one that no one wanted but she got due to her rookie status.
She stood back up, rubbing the back of her neck tenderly, then stiffened as she met the eyes of Night Shift Controller Sechs. She’d been caught slacking.
Panzer clumsily snapped into a salute, anxiety gnawing at her insides as her face reddened and her cooling fans began to whir.
Her controller appeared unamused, if her trademark scowl was any indicator. “Look alive, Aufseher. Night shift is no excuse to slack off.” Her voice was gruff and stern.
“Sorry, Controller…” The back of her head still stung; Storches could pack quite a punch, even against the other Protektors.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it happen again,” Sechs grumbled. “Glory to the nation.”
“Glory to the nation, sir!”
The Storch grumbled one last time before turning away and continuing her patrol down the empty hallway. As the metallic hoofsteps faded away, Panzer sighed and slumped against the wall.
Dammit. If only she could live that dream longer, with Jäger’s face leaning into hers while praising her performance… But instead, she was stuck in this stupid hallway on stupid night guard duty while Officer Jäger was probably kissing Storch Sieben’s stupid face.
She let out a sigh of frustration at the thought before leaning her head against the wall, hissing at the contact (ow, sore!). It wasn’t fair. Her charming, confident officer could have anyone she wanted, and she chose cranky old Sieben. So many of her fellow Starlings had relationships as well, whether that was with a Eule or even one of their own. Panzer was stuck in her own mind, dreaming up scenarios she desperately wanted to be true but knew could not be.
She stood straight again, wincing as she adjusted her position. Her internal clock read 03:07 - four more hours to go. She groaned to no one, racking her brain for something to think about other than her infuriatingly handsome superior. There was group hand to hand training later and shooting range practice hours the next cycle… That was something!
This effort failed miserably as Panzer’s thoughts circled back to Jäger. Hand to hand combat, sparring, her inevitable loss as the inexperienced new unit, being pinned to the ground by her superior… The thought made her shudder in anticipation. Jäger whispering praise or corrections into her ear, her lips brushing against her shell, warm breath teasing her cheek-
Anything to possibly get closer to Jäger, she supposed. Even if she knew she’d come out of a training session creaky and sore.
But in the meantime, she had a guard shift to finish and a nap to take before training.
—
A slap to the back of her head jolted Panzer awake. Right where Storch Sechs had slapped her earlier.
“Cmon, Panzer, up!”
A voice identical to hers shouted and she groaned in response. 11:13, her clock read, barely three hours of sleep after she was relieved of her shift, made her way to the showers, and collapsed into her bunk.
“We are not going to be late because of your shiny ass, come on!”
She groaned again before rolling over and sitting up, nearly hitting her head on the bunk above her. “Okay, sir…”
Her hand reached up to rub the back of her head again as she ducked and stood up, still groggy. Such was the life of rookies; the worst shifts and the least sleep. Perhaps one day she’d reach seniority, stop being hazed, be more like Jäger-
Right, sparring! That’s what they’d all be late for. Every period there would be select trainings to keep Sierpinski’s Protektor cadres in top shape. As a whole, every Starling cadre’s shooting range and simulation scores have improved, but their hand to hand marks were lacking. Storch Sieben had chosen this as the focus of this period’s group exercise, citing some national doctrine about being well rounded. For Panzer, this meant finally (possibly) interacting with her officer more.
Once she realized this, her eyes shot open and she stood a bit straighter. She was revitalized, filled with electric anticipation as she ran her fingers through her bangs, checked her weapons, and snapped her armor on.
Her cadre finished up, then they all settled into their formation by the door. At 11:30 sharp, Controller Sechs opened the door to lead them out.
They arrived at the shooting range, which had been transformed into a sort of temporary wrestling area. The guns and ammo were loaded into the storage closet and a protective mat covered the cold, concrete floor, opening up more space and providing a layer of protection for the titanium and polyethylene bodies about to crash into it. Storch Sieben stood in the corner, glowering at everyone filing in and beginning to mingle.
Panzer squished herself into a corner (as much as her metal frame could “squish”) and surveyed the area, trying to keep calm.
And then, she caught sight of Jäger.
She was bothering Sieben, of course, smirking up at her as she said something that made the Storch roll her eyes and shove her away. Jäger barked a laugh in response.
Panzer’s hands balled into fists as she squinted at the two - I would never shove Officer Jäger away like that! I would be kind and laugh and appreciate her wonderful jokes… What does she even see in Controller Sieben?
She sighed softly, realizing her fingers were straining as her fists clenched, and released her hands. Training. Training. Focus on Training.
Controller Sieben moved Jäger aside again before clearing her throat and speaking up. “Listen up, everyone!”
The chatter in the room swiftly became silence.
“We’re here because in the past few periods, your hand to hand scores have dropped.” Silence. Everyone was well aware. “This is a shitty room to fight in, so we’re only working in two pairs at once. Veterans with rookies, the officers and I are supervising. Most of you know how this goes.” Sieben sighed. “Glory to the nation. Glory to the revolution.”
Panzer pouted under her mask. Officer supervision meant there would be no sparring against Jäger.
In various states of precision, everyone in the room saluted. “Glory to the revolution.”
The room became chaotic as Panzer’s sisters sorted themselves into pairs, slapping each other on their backs and shouting happily when matches were made. She froze, staring into the crowd, realizing this was much more chaotic than range or tactical training.
A yank on her upper arm pulled her backwards.
“Panzer! Don’t just stand around.” Her officer chided as she pulled her towards one of her seniors. “You’re with Gewehr. Go.”
Before she could salute, her officer had already disappeared, leaving her with her rather stoic sister.
Her eyes lingered on her sparring partner for a moment. Gewehr looked bored out of her mind, knowing that in this match up, she would win. Panzer’s mouth opened to say something, but promptly shut as she realized there was no use in making small talk.
The sparring pairs made their way to the sides of the retrofitted range, bantering quietly amongst themselves as Sieben and the officers planned the order. Panzer’s gaze focused on Jäger again.
Similar to most older Protektors, her plating and armor was scuffed and chipped in places. Skirmishes, wear and tear, it didn’t matter - it was incredibly attractive. Her hair, cropped shorter than many of her fellow Starlings, the scar that split her eyebrow, her demeanor of pure confidence and swagger… If it weren’t for Panzer being in a room with every single Star unit in Sierpinski and the incredibly irritable Work Shift Controller, she would be batting her eyelashes and sighing dreamily.
The object of her affection nodded at Sieben and spoke up. “Okay!” Her grin was audible. “First pairs, Striker and Mauer, Kreigerin and Granate!”
The four Stars made their ways to the center.
“Your goal is to knock the other one down and hold them for five seconds! After that, we’ll give you corrections and…”
Panzer had stopped listening and started staring longingly at Jäger. At the contours of her body (Panzer, dumbass, you have the same body!), her hair, her hands which she wished were on her -
“... and Panzer!”
Shit.
Gewehr grabbed her hand and pulled her to the center of the second “ring,” with Panzer nearly tripping on the edge of the protective mat. She heard a badly muffled chuckle, and her cheeks flared red in response. What a great impression.
“Stances…”
Panzer bent her mechanical knees into a sloppy fighting stance, relying only on vague neural “muscle memory.”
“And start!”
Gewehr did nothing. She had expected her to start right away, to hit her, to do anything, but she simply waited.
Panzer relaxed for a moment, not realizing her mistake until her opponent’s elbow slammed into her stomach at lightning speed. The air was pushed out of her lungs with a grunt, and she reflexively doubled over to catch her breath.
The moment she bent over, her legs were swept out from under her. Her face crashed into the floor with a clunk, sending pain up her cheeks where her mask sat and into her skull. It only took a second for Gewehr to drive a knee into her back and pin her arms down. Pain flared across her back as she held back a cry.
“...3…4…5.”
A second later, the pressure let up. Panzer groaned as she pushed herself onto her knees, unclipping her mask to let air reach her sore face. Breathe in, breathe out. She clipped the mask back on.
The snickers from her cadre didn’t escape her ears.
Moments later, a hand stuck itself out in front of her face. Assuming it was Gewehr’s, she took it begrudgingly and let herself be assisted in standing.
It was Officer Jäger.
This time, it wasn’t a blush of desire or affection; it was pure embarrassment. Oh Falke, the blunder of a lifetime. It was over.
Jäger chuckled lightly before giving Panzer a hearty pat on the shoulder. “You’re not hopeless, Panpan, so let me help, ‘kay?”
Panpan?
Now the blush was of desire.
“Yeah… Anyways, your stance was okayish, but you focus too much on your offense and you let go too quickly. Gewehr had that opening because you relaxed.”
Jäger’s hands moved over her frame, adjusting the position of her arms and shoulders. If Replikas could shiver, she’d be shaking like a Leng rat in the cold. Officer Jäger… touching her… it was even more intimate than her minor corrections at the range a few cycles ago.
“Once you feel solid, like really solid, then you can hit your opponent or block them.” Her demeanor changed slightly, her grin visible in the crinkle of her eyes. “Hit me, Panpan!”
“Whuh?”
“Hit me! I’m your sparring partner now.” The wink Jäger gave her nearly made her melt.
“Uhm- Okay!”
Focus, Panzer.
She settled into her knees, swaying gently until she felt solid in her stance. Back, abs, shoulders, arms… She was ready.
After a second, she swung her arm towards the officer’s face, expecting the metal of her fist to hit the softer skin of her face. Instead, Jäger’s hand grabbed her forearm and pulled her to the side. Panzer stumbled once before regaining her footing and looking back at Jäger, shocked.
The officer shrugged back. “You hesitated and left an opening. Try the same thing but mean it, and don’t let me catch you!”
“Oh-okay! Yes, sir!”
Panzer steadied herself again, finding that getting into a proper fighting stance was easier this time. Without hesitation, she swung at Jäger again, this time anticipating being blocked or grabbed and “faking out” the punch. Her fist passed in front of Jäger’s face while her other arm jabbed an uppercut into her chestpiece.
Officer Jäger grunted in response, taking a step back to hold her stomach.
Panic flooded the younger Star’s system.
“Oh shit - Sir, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-”
“Yeah, like that, kid!” She coughed once before standing straight and patting Panzer’s shoulder. “Keep doing that and you’ll see better scores.”
“Okay, officer!”
A gravelly voice interrupted them. “Time’s up. Get back on task, Jäger.” Sieben chided.
“Sure, Schatzi.” Jäger mockingly saluted Sieben before turning back to Panzer and nodding once.
Pouting under her mask, she returned to the crowd of her sisters at the perimeter of the room.
Panzer felt like she was about to explode. Everything was too much; The praise, being touched so gently, experiencing Jäger’s immense skills, watching the bits of banter between her officer and the Controller that should be for her-
The rest of training was spent switching between ruminating on Jäger’s touches and advice (she loves me!) and sulking about her relationship with Storch Sieben (she loves me not!).
In fact, she spent the rest of the cycle in the pattern of wanting to kiss her officer, wanting to evaporate Sieben, and wishing she was hot and cool and talented like Jäger. The thoughts clung to her and refused to let go, filling her mind with painful yearning. It was futile, of course - Everyone, including her, knew it would never happen.
But a girl could dream, dammit, and dream she would.