>06.45 hours, Monday, the 27th of December, 2099
>you've woken up before your alarm, like always
>you turn the alarm clock off to let Nonna sleep for longer.
>last night was tiring for the both of you, but you'll never complain about that
>like always your wife, and rifle, Nonna has you wrapped in her arms and legs as though you were a living hug-pillow
>Through your years of experience with Nonna you deftly escape the warm and soft comfort of her arms and your bed without waking Nonna
>it may normally be nice and warm enough for you at 15℃, but after you started sleeping with Nonna, it just isn't when you first get out of bed
>You've always liked the cold, though, so you tough through it like you always do
>you retrieve your sports bra, panties, and your oversized sleep shirt from the night before
>Having put on enough clothes to be comfortable, you head to the bathroom
>piss and shit, brush teeth, comb hair, all of that good happy shit.
>After you're done you look into the mirror
>you've never been particularly attractive in your own opinion, but you're not bum-fuck ugly either
>your face is just kinda. . . plain. Beyond your slightly larger nose, this due to German and Hebrew blood on your father's side
>that, combined with your brown eyes and your kind-of-long, straight, dark-brown hair, which you're thankful for, there's nothing particularly distinct.
>If your hair wasn't straighter than you are, then it would look ridiculous when you put it into a ponytail.
>overall, you figure that you'd score around a 6 or 7/10 if you asked the /b/-tards to score you
>Actually, no. They'd give zeros because you wouldn't show them your tits.
>fucking autists
>you turn around and head back into the bedroom
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>As you head back into the bedroom Nonna pokes her head over the comforter and softly smiles at you, strands of her silver-white hair hanging over her face
"'Утpo мoя любoвь~."('Morning, my love) she coos "How was I last night?"
"mind-blowing, as always, dear," you say to her.
>Her ice-blue eyes shining with pride as her wolf-like ears perk up
>You're pretty sure that you see her trying to wag her tail under the covers
"We have some time before you must open zhe shop, how about we go anozher round before breakfast, Tanya?" Nonna whispered as she seductively crawls out from under the covers towards you, exposing her ample bosom and her almost perfect skin, it being pockmarked with scars from various damage that she'd sustained over the two centuries or so that she's been in service.
>She always knows how to get you going, but now isn't the time, and you have the will to be able to resist.
"We can't. Not now, anyway. If we did, we'd be in here for a few hours at least, covering the act and recovery time" You tell Nonna as you walk over to her and pet her head as you walk past to get your watch.
>Nonna sits on the bed and begins to pout until she realized how cold it is and begins finding her own clothes.
"So, any plans for today?" Nonna inquires as she puts her ancient fatigues on, which are still good as new.
"We don't have any scheduled pickups of repairs for today, so all I need to do is work on that Izhmash AGV-96 that Karl brought in on Friday. What was her name again? Natalia"
>You walk out of the bedroom with Nonna following you into the kitchen, right across the hall.
"It was Natalia, yes," Nonna responds as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and rests her chin atop your head.
>You go through your cabinets and find the oatmeal. Oatmeal is a good, quick breakfast.
"Awesome. Wouldn't want to accidentally call her something else on accident." you laugh as you fix up bowls for Nonna and yourself.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Minutes later the bowls are prepared and the two of you go into the living room to watch the news. It's a lot different than it was in the 2010s, apparently.
>The vast majority of the anchor now were at some point, or still are, successful and trusted video makers on various vid-sharing sites.
>It's more like an informative podcast than what you've read it was like back when the Populists started to take power. 'Best damn thing to ever happen to the world, that, but what's happening now?
>Xenos/Human socialists protesting, trying to get the Sol Confederation to stop making people work for themselves. It was mostly peaceful, outside of one instance where one of the Xenos tried to attack an onlooker who called them retarded.
>The Xeno failed and was held down by several of the other protesters.
"At least they're not all mindless shit-stains like the Regressives were."
"Zhe Fascists of my first war were worse. It was fun crushing zhem." Nonna says as she finishes her bowl and moves to sit in your lap.
>Your bowl is finished as well, so you stack them and hold your arms open for your her to take a seat
>Nonna takes her seat as you wrap your arms around her. You continue watching the news from over her shoulder.
>German colonists have settled Alpha Centauri IVa for the SC.
>They're naming it Eisengriff
"Good for them."
"Поистине" (Verily)
>New plasma caster design by H&K has been admitted to military trials despite only gauss weapons and traditional firearms being admitted previously.
"Shit. I'll need to catch up on how to work with plasma conductors. If that gets accepted by even just the Fino-Scandi Republic or one of the outer worlds, a shit-ton of people are going to buy them" you complain
>Nonna swishes your face with her tail.
"It's still more business, and that means more money" she chides. Playfully implying that she wants some of the old milsurp.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>The spam-cans are still around, but extremely rare now. Izhmash has actually started to accept private orders for newly made cans, but they're expensive. Almost a full credit for every 15 rounds
>for fuck's sake, one credit will get you 50 4mm tungsten slugs for the smaller bore Gauss guns
>You decide to pretend to be ignorant of Nonna's unspoken request for now
 
>Next on the news:
>The Krat have declared war on one of our trade partners, the Scatri. The SC council deliberates on how to retaliate without endangering our still developing worlds
>Fucking Space Lobsters. Attacking the weaponsmith teddy bears
>Someone in the live chat's asking what's so dangerous about the Krat, Humanity won Vs. them, didn't we?
>Dumbass doesn't know, so you tell them
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>The Krat are 8 foot tall(2.4m) lobsters that have only barely been contained by everything around them. 
>They drop onto your planet from low orbit and set up spawning pools
>then send wave after wave of screeching hatchlings at you until you're out of ammo and/or morale 
>then they start sending in the matured ones that can actually use guns
>The only reason why Humanity won was because of a wonderful invention that is almost unique to Humanity: the Flamethrower.
>Turns out that, while incredibly resistant to shock and damage in general, a Krat's shell isn't such a good insulator
>Some autistic /k/ommando from the /k/ult brought out an M2 Flamethrower that probably hadn't been properly serviced since WW2 and started roasting the bugs alive
>He then taught others how to make them
>They held out for long enough for the Marines and Rangers to arrive and break the Krat's siege of Alpha Sentari III
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"We should have never accepted their armistice. Zhe attacked our planet, yet we allow zhem to slink away wizhout so much as taking one of zheir worlds?!" Nonna yells at the holo-monitor.
>The two of the five anchors tend to agree, though they can't hear her.
>The other three are more skeptical, believing that attempting to take of the worlds that they already controlled would have wasted too many of our men and women
>one of the first two argues that the planet didn't need to be kept, and that glassing it from orbit would have been the way to go.
>one of the latter three agrees under the stipulation of the assumption that taking the planet and system was the only way to get them to stop attacking us.
>the argument of whether or not we should even use orbital bombardment ever, let alone NUKES is brought up
>This happens almost every time these five start talking about expanding the SC.
>look at watch
>it's 07.45
"While I agree that it would have been nice, It's about that time, honey." I murmur into Nonna's ear
>Nonna makes a slight whimper as she gets up from your lap
"It never lasts long enough. . ." She grumbles
>you give her a kiss and tell her that you're sorry as you go back to the bedroom to get dressed.
>you've never been one for the whole "girly" thing outside of when Nonna asks you to go to some fancy restaurants or other.
>You've kind of just always dressed in loose fitting clothing that you thought was a good compromise between comfort and utility.
>Being the daughter of a mechanic who had five sons and one daughter didn't help that, but you're glad that it happened this way.
>small men's clothes are much cheaper than women's clothes.
>You put on your OD Green kevlar jumpsuit
>You love this jumpsuit. It's so fucking comfortable. it's next to impossible for someone to cut through it on their first swing, it has knee and elbow pads, it's got sections for you to put in ballistic plates, and it has SO MANY POCKETS
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You grab your glasses, put them on, and go back into the living room to find Nonna arguing with the news anchors through the live chat.
>Wait. is it really not just a podcast that stays more on-topic?
>You're pretty sure that that's what it is, but you don't care enough to argue with yourself over the semantics of, it at the moment, at least.
>You smile at Nonna as she furiously types on the holographic keypad
>She's so cute when she gets serious
>You head down the hall, past your computer room/library, the guest bedroom, and another room that is also kind of a library (specializing in P&P RPG rule, splatbooks, and old reference manuals for guns), to the back of your third floor home and head down the stairs.
>The second floor acts as the housing for your personal guns. You've always shown favoritism, so they don't really have any hard feelings about Nonna being your raifu
>Some of them have even gotten into relationships with each other
>You don't mind, but it does make it kinda weird for you on range days, though they all seem fine with it
>Your personal armoury, besides your Vintovka Mosina M91/30 (Nonna), a Colt 1911 from 1915 (Gloria), an AK-47M (Katyusha(Katya)), A 2021 reproduction of a Remington 1852 New Model Army (Windy), An Izhmash 10mm Legkiy Gauss-Pulemet [Light Gauss MG] Model 2075/80 [LGP-75/80] (Stella), a 19mm Bolter rifle that your Grandfather made (Gabriella), and an H&K G3 (Hanna).
>Your collection was mostly gotten through your grandfather, who was a /k/omando during the "great meme war" of 2041.
>It was fun to listen to his tales of autism-fueled success.
>You'r be surprised that he ever managed to have children, let alone find a loving wife.
>Pushing that thought out of your mind, you finally descend to the ground floor of your shop/home.
>The stairs go down into your workshop/warehouse
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Your shop smells glorious, as always.
>Gunpowder, Oil, Ionized Gas, and Iron.
>You will never understand why people don't like this smell
>The only thing that could make it better is if the smell of napalm or brewing alcohol was added to the mix.
>Those aren't happening, though.
>Too many things could make the napalm or booze explode back here.
>You make a u-turn around the stares and head out through the industrial-grade blast-doors behind and walk up to the main room.
>Your house's living area is essentially built above and in-between two old Quonset huts. One in the front for all of the shit that you sell
>Guns, ammo, knives, accessories, cleaning supplies, parts, various other melee weapons
>Anything that can be used to kill, for defense or offense, you probably have, can make, or can get.
>A good amount of it's even made by you personally.
>You go up to the front door and flip on the OPEN sign and flip over the sign on the door.
>People ask why you don't have an automated holo-sign or something
>They just don't understand that physically flipping a sign to say OPEN from CLOSED just feels better
>Thinking too much about
>Katyusha and Hanna are already up and about
>They're doing their usual routine of taking inventory and general maintenance while bickering about how things should be done.
>You're not sure how they can be so adversarial while still being in a relationship, but if it works for them then it works.
>Sure, you understand that people will argue over things no matter what if they're near one another for long enough, but those two just don't STOP.
>Even when they fuck (Which you heard one time while trying to find them for something)
>They bitched about literally everything the other did and tried to correct them in accordance with what they thought was right
>Yet, they still genuinely seem to care for one another.
>Whatever. The mystery of how it is that they stay together will probably never be solved. Not by you, at least.
>Stella is behind the counter with Gabriella, and Gloria and Windy are probably off doing paperwork or something.
>whelp, it's about time you took a look at the AGV-96 that Karl brought in.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You walk back into the ‘shop after saying ‘good morning’ to the rest of your guns
>Off to the right side of the doors are three workstations that you’ve walled off with cubicle walls to give the geists that you’re working on some privacy
>Each one has everything that you’ll probably need for most problems
>Inside of the first station is the Gauss rifle. 
“Natalia?” you ask as you open the door
“Wh-Who’s there?” Natalia meeps as she turns to her geist form
>She’s looking around
>Can’t she see... you...
>Her built-in optics are fucked, huh?
“I’m Tanya, the gunsmith that my brother, your owner, Karl, brought you to. He bought you from my shop too, remember?” you attempt to soothe her
>you get the tools that you’ll probably need out of the various tool boxes in the workstation
“I, yes. I remember. Sorry, but I... Can’t see very well at the moment.” Natalia responds, having visibly calmed down “If I may, wasn’t I taken here on Friday? Hasn’t it been a few days?”
>You’ve found what you feel that you’ll need and walk over to the table that she’s sitting on
“If you’ll remember, Friday was the 25th, and thus, Christmas.” 
>you grasp the back of her neck to turn her back into rifle form 
“I was too shit-faced from drinking with Nonna to be able to do anything, I’m afraid.” You tell her 
>You begin disassembly to make sure that nothing else is wrong before you get to fixing her built-in 1x/10x scope.
“You’re lucky that Katya made sure that I didn’t touch you until I was sober again.”
“I, yeah, that would have probably ended poorly. . .” Natalia mutters as I check over her internals
>A few wires are loose too. Not enough to cause any problems if she’s only being used on a range, but you’ll be damned before you let any weapon leave your shop in less than perfect condition.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Not in the way that you’re thinking, though,” you tell her as you reconnect the formerly loose wires. “I would have probably tried to make autistic upgrades to you, like adding an underbarrel plasmathrower, or giving you proper built-in iron sights, overhauling your power-capacitors so that you could fling slugs even faster”
>You start working on her optics
“Hell, I may have even made a wooden stock for you!” you joke
>Though, knowing your taste in firearms, it wouldn’t surprise you if you did.
“Th-that's. . . You wouldn’t really do that, right? I don’t think that a wooden stock would even survive on me for very long. . .”
>That’s cute. 
>She thinks you can’t reinforce a wooden stock and make it heat-proof to the point of being able to be used on an automatic gauss rifle with great success.
>or, was it that she hated the idea of having her capacitors fucked with?
>You don’t see how it could have been an aversion to the plasmathrower or the Irons.
>You spend 3 hours working on Natalia while talking with her. 
>She’s shy like you remember, but she’s gotten better.
>At least she can hold a conversation now.
>In the end, it was more than just the wires and the optic
>Her second and fifth coils were out of sync with the others by .08 and .06 milliseconds, respectively.
>Her feed-lips were bent just enough to make inserting a new magazine slightly more difficult
>Finally, she needed her optic’s batteries to be changed
>Once you finish with her optics and the battery change she turns back into her geist form and gives you a quick hug from behind while you’re putting away your tools as you get ready for lunch 
“Thanks for fixing my optics... And the fresh batteries.” Natalia mumbles as she pulls away.
“No need to thank me. Just doing my job.” You say, closing the tool drawer 
>It always makes you happy when you make the geists that you fix up happy.
“Now, come on. It’s time for food.” 
>You open the door to leave the 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>work station
“We’ve still got some things to fix up on you before you’re done.” Natalia follows you out
>she looks at you inquisitively at you as the two of you walk to the stairs
>On the way to the second floor’s dining room you continue.
“Your second and fifth magnetic coils are a bit out of sync, and there’s some minor damage to your feed-lips.”
>As the two of you walk down the hallway, Gloria and Windy run past you to the dining room
“You should be all tuned up by 15.00 hours, so Karl should be able to pick you up by the time he gets off from work.” you finish as you arrive.
>You always take lunch at 11.00. No-one ever comes in then other than people who didn’t check the open times
>If anyone comes now, they are shit out of luck.
>Door's locked, faggots
>Nonna is in the kitchen.
>The kitchen smells like Syrniki
>it connects to the hall and the dining room.
>Both of your kitchens are over-top of one another. 
>You motion for Natalia to take a seat as you sneak up on Nonna
>You wait for her to not be holding anything hot before wrapping your arms around her and proceeding with a terrible pickup line/pun like you always do before burying your face in her long, silky, silver hair.
“Hey, good lookin’, what’s cookin’?” 
>Fuck she smells amazing
>Everyone who could hear your cheesy line other than Nonna audibly groans
>Nonna just giggles and leans back into you ever so slightly
>You know that it’s cheesy as fuck, but it’s fun, and you’ve been doing this with Nonna for at least 10 years
>You’re not stopping for them
“We’re having Syrniki, любовь” (love) Nonna laughs as you blow raspberries into the side of her neck. “Shoo, now. Go wash up,” she commands, before giving you a quick kiss
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Fuck yeah, Syrniki! Your nose knows what’s up. Nonna’s food is always too good.
>You’re glad that you never actually have to cook.
>You obey her command and let go of your Mosin
>you head over to one of the two sinks in the kitchen
>after washing up, you walk back into the dining room.
>Windy and Gloria are laughing at some video or another that they’re watching
>Stella and Gabriella are setting the table while talking about what had happened during work so far.
>Apparently some reptilian Xeno (a H’nado, from the sound of it) came in wanting to ask questions about Waffegeists
>Said he was researching how different cultures treated them and had adapted to their existence, and if they tolerated their existence at all.
>He was apparently rather shocked to learn that he was talking to a Waffegeist at that very moment
>Apparently, all of the Waffegeists that he’d ever seen had some characteristic about them that made it obvious that they weren’t of the species that they looked like
>Pointed to Katya as an example of what he was talking about
>Hanna took offense at the gesture but was calmed down by Katya and Stella before she could try to bash the guy over the head with her stock
>She apparently thought that he was trying to buy her
>The H’nado was apparently confused when they explained that she’d gotten mad because she thought that he was trying to buy Katya, and then was even more confused when they explained that “no, Hanna is a Waffegeist too.”
>It was luckily a slow day (being Monday after Christmas, and all) and they had time to explain how they were in a relationship with one another 
>He seemed to understand it a bit more when they told him that you are already in a committed relationship with Nonna, and that, while you do take good care of them and shoot them, you just don’t have the ability to care for all of them equally
>He left after another hour or so of questioning
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Katya, Hanna, and Natalia are talking about what they think will happen now that the Krat have declared war on the Scatri while reading and watching the news about the situation.
>Hanna is leaning against Katya’s back with her arms loosely wrapped around the AK’s neck. Natalia is sitting next to them.
>All of them think that the SC will end up going to war, it’s just a question of how, when, why, and what they think should be done.
>Katyusha, being her usual self, states that the SC should immediately join in the Scatri’s war effort in the fullest sense, but thinks that the council will end up taking too long. 
>At most she thinks that they will supply arms and armour while encouraging mercenaries and allowing volunteers from the SC Armed Forces enlist with the Scatri.
>Hanna is less enthusiastic about the SC going to war with the Krat in full, and says that the SC should provide safe harbor and supplies officially, but not much else. If a merc or a deserter wants to join the Scatri on the field of battle, then let them do it without direct government support.
>The most likely course of action, she feels, is that the government will take too long and the Scatri will have been felled by the time that the council is willing to act.
>Natalia agrees with Hanna that the council should do the minimum to directly help the Scatri, but thinks that they’ll most likely end up declaring war outright instead of doing something she feels would be more sensible, but can understand why they would. The Scatri were our first friends outside of our own nation, and we were their only real ally.
>They argue over which way of going about it and what they think will end up happening 
>None of them really give ground, but when Nonna calls in to say that the food’s done, they stop caring
>Nonna’s food is too fucking good, and they all know it
>All the while I just lean against the wall, smiling and enjoying the sight
>You’re so glad that you aren’t alone anymore
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You never really had many friends, if they could even be called that
>They were acquaintances at best, you figure.
>You were 13 when your grandfather passed
>It was weird. You loved him, but when he died, you didn’t really feel anything. 
>If anyone could have been your best friend back then, it was your grandpa
>He taught you to shoot and to clean and maintain firearms. Mostly older, more simple ones 
>you were quick to learn with your hands, so having just the basic principals was usually enough to figure out most of them worked, and how to clean and maintain them.
>Every time the two of you went out, he would make sure to instill into you a respect for your weapons
>He would always call each of them by a name that he’d given them. 
>You thought it was weird, but that’s just how he was
>He said that it was just being polite and he encouraged you to do it too.
>He always said that every weapon has a spirit, a soul, but you didn’t really see it. 
>They had never turned into their geist forms in front of you
>When he died, he left all of his guns to you. Your dad would keep them until you were 21 for all but one.
>His Mosin Nagant M91/30.
>His most prized rifle.
>He took that rifle everywhere with him.
>The rifles most distinguishing feature was a massive rut in the steel of the bolt where a bullet skidded across it as the original owner was reloading, at least that’s what your grandpa said at the time, 
>Nonna later confirmed the story, but not for a long time after you got her
>You knew about Waffegeists. You knew that they were real, so why did they never come out for you? Why did Nonna never come out?
>Still, she was the last connection you had to your grandpa, so you made sure to keep her clean and maintained, and love her at least as much as he did
>You did everything to get her to come out, but nothing worked, even still: 
>You would sit with her and listen to old soviet music.
>You would talk to her, even though she would give no response
>You didn’t care.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You didn’t care that you never really had any friends
>You didn’t care that people thought that you were weird
>You didn’t care that she never responded.
>All that mattered was that you keep trying.
>You made sure to do well in school, despite it seeming like a waste of time
>If only because Grandpa wanted you to.
>You made sure to carefully clean and maintain all of the guns that you could
>If only because Grandpa wanted you too.
>You took up gunsmithing at 15 to be able to better take care of your guns, and Nonna.
>Technically the rest of his collection wasn’t yours, but they were in the same house anyway, they may as well have been.
>Over time, you grew into appreciating Nonna and the rest of your new, old, guns for what they were.
>Sure your Nonna’s bolt was a bit stiff, but you had been operating that bolt from the time that you were 8. You had no problems with her, while others of the same age would never be able to smoothly operate her.
>Sure she has a 90° bolt turn that would force you to lose sight picture, but that didn’t matter to you. It just meant that you had to be more careful with your shots.
>Sure she’s heavy, especially in comparison to newer weapons. She’s good exercise to carry around.
>Sure she only has a five round magazine that you have to either load with clips or one bullet at a time. You don’t mind. It helps to conserve ammunition.
>You began to see her like how your grandpa saw her, you think.
>Then you were 18 and the draft hit
>You knew that you could get an objectively superior weapon
>The standard issue gauss rifles hit 10x as hard, were easily 5x as accurate, even with the improvements that your grandpa had made to her barrel design, and weigh half as much as your Nonna. The ammo was cheaper and weighed less.
>You didn’t care.
>You were going to take your rifle with you.
>Your “Glorious Moist Nugget” as he’d call her platform on occasion
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You got no end of weird looks from everyone else in your squad and on base when you showed up with a rifle that was easily 150-years-old
>You still didn’t care. You were proud of your rifle
>You wished for nothing more than to use her to bring her into the modern field of battle and prove that she was still a good weapon of war, even now.
>You did well in boot
>You were issued an LGP-75/80, a GPMG because you said that carrying a heavy rifle like your Nonna was good exercise
>She was still lighter than your Nonna by a full pound
>You were in the top 5 in accuracy for the whole base, even while shooting your Nonna
>You were proud of that fact. 
>You didn’t even have a scope.
>You had to calculate everything in your head. 
>You didn’t have fine adjustments for your sights
>You felt that you were proving that your Nonna was still relevant and reliable
>They never praised your rifle, though. Only you.
>They laughed about how even with a “garbage rod” you were still one of the best five marksmen in the entire camp
>It hurt for some reason. You didn’t know why at the time, but hearing them joke and laugh about Nonna hurt you more than anything else ever had. 
>None of the bullying that you received in school, not the social ostracization, not even your grandpa’s death hurt so much.
>You took care to not let it show, and you buried those feelings.
>You never joined them, but you never said anything either, just tried to steer the conversation in a different direction
>You still didn’t really have any friends, but at least most of the other Boots treated you decently
>Near the end of basic you were all sent out into the woods to perform mock-up missions.
>That’s when everything changed. For the better, you think.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You and your squad had completed their mission for the day and you wondered off from your camp area before dark, as you had some free time. You took Nonna, like you always do whenever you can
>There was a small (17 ft) cliff within a 10-minute hike from your camp, so you figured that you were close enough to camp to not get into trouble so long as you were back before lights out. 
>You stood there, watching the sunset with Nonna in hand
>Before the sun had fully set you decided to turn back, but you must have wandered too close to the ledge, or something, because it gave way, dropping you down the cliff with a small landslide following after you.
>You were knocked unconscious sometime during or after the fall. You still don’t know how long it was that you were really out for, but it must have been at least an hour
>When you woke up it was fully nighttime, and you couldn’t feel your legs and everything else hurt, but your first thought was “Nonna isn’t here! Where is Nonna? Where is my rifle?!”
>You’re not sure if your voice even came out at all, but you tried to call out for your rifle, who had never even shown her geist form to you. You tried for what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute or two.
>Before you slipped back into unconsciousness, you saw what you thought at the time to have been an angel, for surely a valkyrie would never come for you, not in this state, not after having lost your rifle.
>Her eyes were what struck you the most, though.
>That cold-as-ice blue. Almost white. And her eyes were full of years of pain. They were wide, panicked, as she ran towards you, as some light, that I now know to have been flashlights, illuminated the world behind her.
>When you next woke you were in a hospital bed, and the angel, whom you now know to have been Nonna was kneeling next to your bed and holding your hand for dear life.
>For what little it was worth, you squeezed back.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Nonna woke shortly after you
>upon seeing that you’re not only alive but awake and okay, she broke out into tears
>She climbed onto your bed and pulled you into a hug while sobbing into your shoulder
>You’d never been in a situation like this. You didn’t really know what you should do
>If you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, your reaction of returning her hug and patting her head was more do to years of watching anime than any natural instinct
>It’s just that, whenever this kind of thing happened in anime, that’s what the appropriate response seemed to be
>Your social retardation isn’t as bad as it was then, at least
>As you patted her head and held her, you noticed her ears and tail were that of a wolf’s
>This seemed odd to you, but it felt too good being held to ruin it with such inconsequential thoughts
>She held you, and you held her, stroking her head, for a long time before a nurse came in to do a check up on you
>It was as the silver-haired angel got off of you that you noticed that she, in fact, had a massive, ragged scar on her face. 
>It was almost as if a bullet had skidded across her forehead, over her nose, and down her left cheek
>you also noticed that she was wearing an M69 Soviet uniform
>In hindsight, it seems rather obvious who she was, and is, but you had just woken up after a life-threatening experience and couldn’t think properly
>You also blame the painkillers that you’re sure were also in your system
>The nurse told you that your legs had to be amputated and replaced with cyborganic ones, which was news to you as they felt normal
>Hell, you STILL forget every now and then that they’re fake
>The nurse checked you over while Nonna stood nearby, just watching you. Making sure that the nurse didn’t try anything funny
>Almost as if she were your bodyguard; tear-streaks still marring her scarred, yet beautiful, face while she stood her watch
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>A doctor came in as the nurse was leaving and looked you over
>He told you that you would likely be discharged from the hospital in a few days, and just had to go through some rehabilitation therapy to get your muscles used to moving again and to get you used to your new legs
>After the Doctor had left, you turned to your impromptu bodyguard
>She looked back at you, and then away to the floor
>In her eyes you saw fear and regret
>It was then that you realized that you hadn’t actually said anything to her yet, and neither had she said anything to you.
>Before you can really think up what you should say, a man from your squad walks in with arms full of boxes and cards
>The man is Sgt. Bergmann. He’s got a fucked up sense of humor, but he cares for his weapons just the same as you do, so you figure that he’s alright
“I come bearing gifts!” 
>He shouted in his usual boisterous nature 
“Lots of get-well-soon cards and some original spam-cans for your Mosin” 
>He sets the boxes down with a metallic clunk 
“Can’t bring you the booze that we got for you yet, though. . . You’re a lucky girl, you know. If your Mosin’s geist hadn’t come and gotten us, we would have probably been too late” He laughed, casually gesturing to the Ice-blue eyed woman standing on the other side of the bed
>She looked as though she wanted to run away once he had said that
>”What was he talking about?” I thought. “None of my guns have ever shown their geist forms. Why now, were you worthy of seeing them?”
>The look of confusion on my face must have been enough to convey what I was thinking to the sergeant, as he turned and said:
“Looks like you’ve got some catching up to do. I’ll give you some privacy for that.”
>Before closing the door he added
“Try not to fall down any more cliffs, you hear?” 
>And the door was shut
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>It took you a few minutes to really process what had just been revealed to you
>After thinking it through, you decided upon a course of action
“Nonna?” You asked, quietly.
“Да?” She answered back, still looking away
“Why did you and the rest of grandpa’s guns never show yourselves to me before? Even when grandpa was still alive?”
“We. . . We were afraid.” She replied slowly.
“Of what?”
“Of getting too attached again. We didn’t want to have to loose another master zhat we loved. If we stayed as only guns, we zhought zhat we could detach ourselves from it, at least a little bit. Zhat our master would just treat us as tools” Nonna started. Her eyes beginning to water. “We zhaught zhat zhis is what would happen, but we were wrong. About you, and about your grandfazher, Daniel. Never once did he, nor you ever treat us as just tools. He gave us names when we would not provide our own. He would only ever call us by zhem! He would always take such great care to keep us cleaned and maintained, and take us shooting, and make sure than anyone who he let shoot us handled us properly!”
>Nonna had started crying again. She sat down on one of the chairs that were near her and continued
“When he died, we felt it. Perhaps not quite as strongly as before, but it was still zhere, and it hurt. But we zhought, perhaps zhis is for zhe best? He is giving us to his granddaughter, who is only 13. Yes she treated us well wizh her grandpa, but perhaps she will treat us only as tools? She is a young girl, after all, why would she spend so much time and effort on her guns? What need has she for us?”
>Nonna held her head in her hands as she continued, looking straight at the floor
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“We were wrong about you, zhough. You treated us just as well as your grandpa had, perhaps better! And when you took me wizh you to boot-camp, I could only barely contain my excitement and fear. I was so happy zhat you would choose ME of all of your weapons, or out of she weapons zhat you could be issued by the military to be your weapon! I was elated zhat I had a chance to go back to war, and wizh someone who I knew would take good care of me!”
>Nonna paused for a moment. She looked up and our eyes met
“But I was terrified. Terrified zhat I would lose anozher master. Not just anozher master, zhough, but one zhat I loved. I was terrified zhat I would underperform and zhat you would toss me aside in favor of anozher rifle.”
>Nonna then stood up and walked over to you. 
>You had been silent this entire time. Listening intently to Nonna’s story
>She took your hand in hers, gently. Her hands were calloused, but somehow still soft and warm. It nearly made your heart skip a beat
“And how could I not love you? Not only did you always treat be well, but you never zhrew me away, even in zhe face of such vastly superior rifles! You even used me to out-perform most of zhem!”
>She drew your hand with hers up to her forehead
“When you fell, and when you were covered by zhe landslide zhat followed, it was zhe most terrifying zhing zhat I had ever experienced!”
>Her tears were now rolling down your arm as she cried out her explanation to your, apparently, deceptively simple question
“I immediately transformed and started digging for you. Once I found you, and you were alive, I was so happy, but I knew zhat zhat would not be enough, and so I ran back to zhe camp as quickly as I could to get your squadron.”
>she lay your arm down a bit, looked into your eyes, still crying, and smiled
“On zhe way back, when I heard you calling for me, you cannot imagine how happy I was, but at zhe same time, it scared me, just as it still does”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>At that point in time, the only things that you could think were “I want to protect this girl’s smile. I want to make her happy. I want her to never leave me.”
>Thinking these thoughts, you begin to pull her down to you with the hand that she has clasped in her own, never breaking eye contact
>You had started to cry as well shortly after she had said that she loves you, 
“Nonna, I’m sorry for all of the hardship that I’ve put you through. . .” you tell her as you continue to pull her closer
“Wha-?” is all that she got out before she realized what you were doing, her eyes wide, but she didn’t resist as you pulled her in for a kiss
>She smells of gunpowder, oil, Iron, and Cosmoline. 
>the kiss was soft, but passionate
>in truth, it was the first time that you’d ever kissed anyone, but it felt so right.
>Nonna was red as a beet, but that didn’t stop her from bringing you in for a second kiss.
>The second lasted a bit longer than the first and felt just as good.
“Nonna, I love you. Please, never leave me” you pleaded, breathlessly
>Nonna pulled you into a hug and whispered into your ear
“Я тоже тебя люблю(I love you too). I swear, I will never leave you.”
>She hasn’t yet after 10 years, so you’re pretty sure that she’s not going to.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>After getting released from the hospital you returned to your unit with a new nickname: Dirt Nap. Nonna was less than pleased 
>(She almost stabbed Sgt. Bergmann when he first called you by it) 
>you thought that it was funny, though, so it stuck
>After boot your unit was assigned to an SC defense fleet that was set up to defend the Deneb star system against pirates and unauthorized entry by non-allied vessels
>You managed to get 64 kills in the 2 years that you were out there with her.
>Another 15 with Stella after you ran out of ammo for Nonna or the time they had a suit of powerarmour. 
>You were too close and too in line-of-sight to be able to take careful shots with Nonna at the weak points
>A lot of pirates began to surrender when they saw you and Nonna, or after you’d fired your first shot after some time.
>The crack of tungsten going supersonic was loud, yes, but Nonna was by far louder. Sometimes they thought that the sound was shaped charges going off BEHIND them and that they were surrounded. 
>Other times it was what Nonna did to them when they were hit.
>The Gauss and railguns that the rest of the marines used would usually make rather clean holes going in and out due to how fast they were, and they would sometimes inadvertently cauterize the wounds due to the slugs being so hot.
>Not Nonna. Nonna’s bullets tumbled and made massive craters in their bodies when the bullet came out
>They would always bleed
>Gauss and Railguns often also killed instantly, no matter where it hit due to shock
>They would almost always survive to suffer if you didn’t hit them in the head or spine
>It horrified the pirates
>There was also the time that you ran out of carried ammo, and so you bayonet charged 5 pirates while they were re-loading.
>Only one barely survived.
>Nonna was so happy about having been used in conflict to her fullest again that she almost didn’t berate you for retardedly charging five heavily armed pirates with an unloaded rifle and bayonet
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>All of these fond memories wash over you in the few minutes that it takes for your guns to get their share of Nonna’s heavenly food
>You walk in as Natalia walks out with her plate 
>Guns that come in to be serviced and are still here for lunch are guests and get fed too
>You walk with a big smile on your face, left over from your momentary reminiscing, into the kitchen to find Nonna waiting for you with a plate with just a bit more than everyone else’s had
>Syrniki, apple sauce, and a baked potato
“Look at you, always spoiling me!” you laugh as you take the plate and kiss your wonderful raifu
“Only zhe best for you, Tanya.” she coos as she grabs her own plate of the same foods “Did somezhing good happen?”
“Yeah, I met you,” you reply suggestively. “But, yeah. I was just remembering when you first showed yourself to me and our first deployment.”
>Nonna sighs
“I wish zhat it could have been under better circumstances. . .”
“But would you have even come out if you didn’t have to?” You reply, slowly walking towards the dining room.
>Nonna lets out a short, dry laugh.
“No, probably not. I’m glad zhat I did, but I wish zhat you didn’t have to almost die to force me to come out.”
>You and Nonna enter into the dining room. The rest of them are already eating
“Either way, it’s in the past. No use worrying about it now, just in remembering the good things that came about from it.”
>You set down your plate and pull out a chair for Nonna next to your place
“Zhankyou,” she says quickly as she takes the seat. “You’re right, but you know why I still worry.”
>You take your own place and give Nonna a sideways hug with your arm saying:
“I know. Don’t worry, Nonna, I know. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
>She caresses your face as she thanks you.
>You get back to the main event: your angel’s delicious food
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>You dig into your food with the same vigor that you normally show at Nonna’s meals and are treated to the orgasmic delight that is your rifle’s cooking
>You swear that she can make anything taste good
>As you eat you make sure to over-exaggerate your reactions to Nonna’s food with such lines as:
“You’ve really outdone yourself this time~!” and “No-one in the galaxy could ever cook better than you~!”
>When she keeps eating while pretending to ignore you, you lean into her to get her attention, then just smile at her and say “nothing” when she asks what you want
>She blushes, gently pushes on your shoulder, and tells you to stop it while looking away, with her tail wagging behind her through the chair’s back
>It brings you no end of pleasure to see her like this. She’s too fucking cute
>If the levels of adorable that she is in moments like this were converted to sugar in your system, you’d have gotten, and died from, diabetes many times by now
>The rest of the table, used to you and Nonna’s antics, continue in their own worlds
>Your two pistols continue to watch what you can only assume to be cat videos, or some equivalent, on their tablet
>It’s amazing how far they’ve come from when they were introduced back in the 2000’s
>They’ve finally become what they probably should have been marketed as originally: an upgrade of the laptop,
>The damn things are more powerful than the most high-end gaming PCs of the 60s now. They can even produce full-colour touch-screen holo-monitors. 
>You think the shortest charge you’ve ever gotten was about three days, but that was because you forgot it, turned on, and with an emulator of DOOM (2016 reboot) 2 running.
>The game’s old as dirt, but SO fucking fun.
>Especially with the mod that makes all of the weapons have Waffegeists that follow you around and comment on the shit that’s going on
>They even get all hot and bothered when you shoot them for long periods of time
>You swear that it’s one of the greatest mods to ever exist
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Finishing your plate, you looking at the rest of the table, beyond the two pistols in front of you
>Stella is listening to Gabriella, Katya, Hanna, and Natalia discuss the prospects of war
>Still
>You get their interest in the possibility of war, you are too, but after half an hour you would have figured that they’d have digressed onto something else entirely
>You probably would have
>Gabriella seems to agree with Katyusha that the Sol Confederacy should declare war against the Krat immediately, and believes that, while the Confederacy will wait, that wait will be to try to convince other nations to join us in our declaration of war.
>You decide to join the conversation
“The SC isn’t stable enough at its borders to even think about fighting against the Krat,” you interject at a lull in their discussion. “Pirates are still enough of a threat out there that the military still has to keep dedicated fleets to deal with them, and yet they still cost our forward colonies hundreds of lives, and hundreds of thousands of credits monthly. If the Krat were mindless bugs that would just kill everything, and accept no surrender, then that would be one thing, but they’re not Tyranids from 40k, or Archies from Starship Troopers. These things can actually make deals, and they’ll definitely start paying those pirates even more than they already do”
>They were mildly startled by your sudden interjection for but a moment before Nonna added
“Tanya would also have to go to war if the SC did. She’s still a reservist, which means that Stella and I would also be going,” her words came out with an odd mix of longing and fear.
>likely longing to fight at my side again, and fear that I may not come back
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>Nonna’s point cut through Gabriella, her red eyes widening and her white bob-cut hair frizzing at the seemingly sudden realization of what that meant
>She was rather attached to Stella, and, beyond her desire to simply be with the quiet, muscular, Geist, there was also the problem of how no-one else knew how to run the shop quite like the two of them other than you and Nonna
>If you were gone with Nonna and Stella, then she would have to train Katyusha or Hanna to help her with everything, and that was not going to be an easy task
>before she could properly respond, however, Natalia spoke up
“What do you mean, ‘more than they already do’?” She asked. “You mean the Krat are already getting the pirates to harass the SC?”
“The short and long is ‘Yes’,” you tell her. “They’ve been doing it for a long time. At least 11 years. Our unit found absolute proof of it while we were stationed in Deneb, but nothing ever came of it.”
>It takes a second to process this before Katya rages
“That should have been grounds to declare war in the first place! Why have we not glassed them yet?!” 
>Katya’s black hair stood almost on end in agitation at the thought of the SC seemingly ignoring the obvious act of aggression
“Because the complete destruction of their worlds would put us onto everyone else's shit-list, Blödmann!” Hanna retorted. “If we’re seen as easily willing to wipe a sapient race from the face of the galaxy, what do you think the rest of the galaxy will think of us?!”
>Here they go again
“They would thank us for ridding them of a pox upon the galaxy!” Katya shot back. “The Krat-”
>Your attention is drawn away from Katya and Hanna’s argument by Stella tapping on the table near you, trying to get your attention
>Her neon green eyes filled with a small amount of apprehension
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Yes? What do you need, Stella?” you ask in the kindest tone that you can make
>Stella’s always been a shy one despite the way that she looks, which makes it surprising at how quickly she hit-it-off with Gabriella, or how well she handles the counter
“Earlier, a H’nado researcher came in, and I told him about you and Nonna’s relationship.” She explains, her soft voice just barely audible over the AK and G3’s arguing
>You’re pretty sure that they’re the reason why that conversation hadn’t changed topics yet, now that you think about it
“I feel that I may have been out of line in doing so, and would like to apologize.”
“It’s fine, Stella. It’s not like it’s some trade secret.” You reassure her.
“Well, it’s not now,” Nonna half-teases
>Luckily, Stella is used to Nonna’s jokes by now and knows that she’s not serious
>Relief is clearly visible on her face
“I see. I apologize for wasting your time.” Stella says, ending the conversation and turning back to Gabriella
>You’re pretty sure that Gabriella takes Stella’s hand in hers under the table.
>L-Lewd!
>You remember the first time Nonna set about teasing her
>She was in tears within the first five minutes and you had to get Nonna to stop
>It took you three days to convince Stella that Nonna really was just joking with her and that she hadn’t actually done anything wrong
>Though, you don’t really remember what it was that she’d done to prompt Nonna’s teasing in the first place
>You casually place your hand on top of Nonna’s
>She smiles gently at you as she turns her hand over and interlocks her fingers with yours
>You smile back, looking straight into her beautiful eyes
>You don’t even pull your hands under the table as you bask in the moment
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------