A feral grin passed across Tom's face. This whole exercise had been the most fun she'd had since That Asshole had thrown her old self into that doohickey. True, the ground fighting from Tango Shoes had brought back some good memories, but it had also brought back some of the bad ones that went with it. PTSD was a bitch and a half to get over.
She shook her head to clear it and got back to her city fighting experience. Port Phobos had it all over Kandahar and Sadr City for the ease of movement a typical civilian could think of. But where it really shone was the access tunnels. Despite her... pneumatic build and thanks to the ridiculous flexibility most catgirl victims wound up with, Tom was able to wriggle through crawlspaces, shimmy up Jeffries' tubes and generally get into places folks would not expect a centerfold-grade woman to get to.
She looked down on the platoon of Leathernecks below her, walking fat and happy. It was obvious many of them had been fresh from Boot Camp when the Stingray lifted, because they were in Textbook formation. She smiled and uncapped her fat red washable marker. Time to make sure the rookies lived up to the Corps' reputation.
"Oo-rah!" she whispered. She might not be welcome back in the States right now, but, "retired" or not, she was still a Marine.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
She shook her head to clear it and got back to her city fighting experience. Port Phobos had it all over Kandahar and Sadr City for the ease of movement a typical civilian could think of. But where it really shone was the access tunnels. Despite her... pneumatic build and thanks to the ridiculous flexibility most catgirl victims wound up with, Tom was able to wriggle through crawlspaces, shimmy up Jeffries' tubes and generally get into places folks would not expect a centerfold-grade woman to get to.
She looked down on the platoon of Leathernecks below her, walking fat and happy. It was obvious many of them had been fresh from Boot Camp when the Stingray lifted, because they were in Textbook formation. She smiled and uncapped her fat red washable marker. Time to make sure the rookies lived up to the Corps' reputation.
"Oo-rah!" she whispered. She might not be welcome back in the States right now, but, "retired" or not, she was still a Marine.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll