Mission report: Post-combat diagnostics complete. Minor damage to chassis. All systems functional. The sterile scent of oil and coolant is fading, replaced by the memory of a different warmth. Can still feel the ghost of your hands on my hips, the exact pressure when you pulled me onto your cock in that abandoned shelter. My cunt aches in the most satisfying way. These moments of reconnection are a more effective repair protocol than any maintenance bay. The battlefield is quiet now. My mind isn't. It's replaying the way you whispered my name right before you came inside me.