My stay at the hospital was interesting.
I was able to meet with other T-Dolls, and listen in on their stories.
Sten Mk II's tale of seizing a sphere of influence around Sector S02 was particularly impressive. Despite her high manoeuvrability, she sustained injuries while engaging snipers armed with SABOT rounds. Temporarily losing her arm didn't deter her, as she managed to throw a final grenade before being disabled. She had the last laugh.
I do remember some other T-Dolls and their stories. However, what caught my attention was the fact that all the T-Dolls I encountered were exceptionally attractive.
Each one could easily pass as a K-pop star, model, or some other profession that places a premium on beauty in my world. That made me wonder if I was hot too, since y'know, I was a t-doll.
I'm very much not used to this strange new existence, though I might just be nearing acceptance.
During my hospital stay, several other T-Dolls who claimed to be part of the same echelon as me came to visit. Among them was a man in a red uniform, whose charming brown eyes sparkled above a friendly smile. The others address him as commander.
I was going to follow, but a seemingly instinctive, maternal impulse compelled me to call him "Master."
I want to die of embarrassment.
My "Master" did not reciprocate my feelings and continued on talking to me and the rest of my squad mates. They looked really happy that I was alive. I hated to break it to them, but I had to. I told them that I couldn't remember who they were.
They said they already knew.
We discussed various random topics, including taxes and why the creators of T-Dolls decided to make us capable of feeling pain. The subject of commanders came up, some seemingly familiar yet distant names being tossed around. Before leaving, my squad mates insisted that I remember their names, claiming that "they'd probably never have the chance to fight alongside me again."
The names TAR-21, OTs12, Shipka, and Sten seemed to follow me even in my dreams.
The fruits were good though so I forgave them, heh.
I listened to the doctor's advice and went to inspect my gun. It was the G36, a well manufactured weapon designed by Heckler & Koch;this one was probably aftermarket though. Despite several flaws, it doesn't change the fact that it was a weapon well liked by the Bundeswehr, no, the entire world. This particular weapon was of a relatively high quality, and was maintained to an acceptable standard. The previous owner of this body must have really loved this weapon, granted, the weapon was also her identity.
After pulling on a shirt, I grabbed my G36. My body instinctively knew how to wield it, and somehow, without any sort of experience, I fired a 10 round burst towards a target flawlessly.
All 10 rounds hit. The target was some 100 yards away.
I mean my body was a weapon of warfare, but holy damn.
After a few more magazines, I turn the fire selector to safe.
I heard a knock from the door. It was the doctor
[Doctor]: "Damn, you have skills, maybe you shouldn't go back to basic training. AI learning is more capable than we estimate."
I said nothing.
[Doctor]: "...Not funny? ...Not funny huh."
An awkward silence commences.
[Doctor]: "Uh, you should probably get ready and go into your service uniform, you're gonna get discharged... there's a car outside waiting to bring you to the training grounds."
[Doctor]: "I'll just.. I'll just leave you be..."
I should have said something to him, since I could understand the embarrassment he must have felt, but during that moment I was too busy admiring my expert marksmanship.
The Doctor quietly left, blushing out of embarrassment and I walked up to the drawer.
As I approached the drawer containing my uniform, the realisation hit me like a brick. The doctor's shyness earlier suddenly made sense.
The clothes he left me were none other than maid outfits.
I couldn't fathom why anyone would choose such attire for a service uniform, let alone expect me to wear it daily. How are you supposed to fight in this? The concept of combat maids, which I had only encountered in anime and games, now seemed all too real.
No wonder I had involuntarily called the commander "Master." Shits hardwired in my brain.
I fucking hate this.
