-*WARNING! There is vore involved in this piece of literature. Please read at your own caution!* And now, enjoy-
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"Lana!" A masculine voice called out in the worn down, aging control center belonging to a middle aged, gray bearded and balding man with a more presentable attire of old war veteran. Various rusting medals of wars long past rested on his chest, with badges representing a title that used to have meaning. The jagged scar crossing his jaw and left cheek and the crow's feet adorning his once handsome features spoke of only foreboding and grimace.
"Yes sir!" Came Lana, a beautiful blonde haired freedom fighter that jogged across the expanse of the metalic, aging floor plates. Her exuberant attitude was only a match for her incredibly endowed cleavage, as it stretched her worn and oil-stained white shirt, which was near the edge of breaking and revealing more than necessary. As a personal precaution, she always made sure to unbutton several buttons to allow "breathing" room, which unfortunately for the rest of the male staff, showed the tops and dividing line of her cleavage.
The aging military commander gave a raised brow, as he humored her by asking, "Do you need another size larger, soldier?"
"Not at all sir," Lana gave a cute, know-it-all smirk with her succulent pink limps on her strong jaw and plump cheeks, emphasizing by propping her hands on her curvy, toned hips that were only covered by incredibly short jean shorts. "I'm actually quite comfortable in this attire."
"Yes well, with myself as an exception I think most of the men in this operation are quite," he made a once over across the control room, scowling at a couple of young rookies who were caught looking a little too long before looking back tiredly at Lana, "distracted."
"I really think its more of their problem controlling their natural urges, with all due respect, Sir," Lana retorted, shuffling her white soot covered tennis shoes with just as grimy socks fit into them.
"Don't make it sound like its entirely their fault, Lana," the Commander sighed, before rubbing his eyes tiredly, his rough calloused hands felt almost comforting to himself trying to argue about uniform ethics.
"Honestly sir," Lana crossed her arms across her hourglass waist, her navel and lower back exposed due to the nature of her upper torso's garments, "what did you call me here for? I know it wasn't for reprimanding me for my choice of clothes..."
"Yes well, I did want you to do something for me," the Commander nodded, waving her over to a monitor with various controls and switches, but more specifically a beige colored keyboard resided in front of it, "nearly several hours ago, we sent some men to do some regular patrols to check on the perimeter locks and ventilation systems, mundane routine inspection at best. However while we sent three men in, one of them disappeared-"
"And naturally you picked me to go find his sorry ass, right?" Lana picked up on where the Commander was telling her. She visually saw three ordinary men dressed in ragtag combat clothes with bandoleers stocked with ammo, grenades and the like. Despite how wet behind the ears their maneuvers and mannerisms were, they looked like they could handle any unknown threat with ease.
"Blunt, but yes, Lana," the Commander fast-forwarded all the footage to the point when they were leaving the area to make their reports. Only two of them exited the area and met back at the lobby, with the last one left behind in a dark series of corridors and what looked to be near a meat locker, "one of our rookies, Daniel Weathers, went MIA within the corridors on the Northeast area of this base, near the freezers. Despite how much we regulate this base, every once in awhile we do get infestations, potential saboteurs, and other possible threats, so just-"
"Keep my guard up, I know," Lana sighed as she raised herself up from the console, stretching her back int a almost U-shape as her breasts bobbed and jiggled underneath her stretched near transparent shirt, before standing at attention, "I'll haul his ass back and kill anything that might be chewing on his boots."
The commander gave a crisp salute, to which she returned dutifully, before giving her a nod, saying, "Good hunting and Godspeed."
_
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
"Dammit, Weathers!" Lana growled as she finished pumping several rounds into something that looked like a rat, though she couldn't be sure, that was just about to bite her foot off if it wasn't for her quick reflexes, "you're really slacking if you missed all this crap and vermin lying around!"