ONE MONTH LATER
The sun shines brightly on the hood of the black sedan as a man in a white work shirt, black khakis and a pocket protector steps out. He reaches back into the car and pulls out a clipboard before walking up to the guard station. "Hey, I have an appointment?" "You the Navy guy?" "That's me." "ID please."
He pulls his identification out of his pocket and shows it to the guard. The guard looks it over, punches something into a computer and hands the ID back. He punches something else into the computer and then hits the button to open the game. "Thanks, you can go. Just go down the hall, turn left, down the stairs and he should be waiting there." "Thanks."
He follows the guard's instructions and heads down the stairs. He glances at his clipboard a few times on the way down. "Suit malfunction, unprofessional, mess...what the hell? I need to ask about this."
When he reaches the bottom of the stairs he meets a man in an expensive-looking suit. "Ah, you're the man the Navy sent?" "That would be me. Can we get started?" "Of course, of course. Do you want to watch the video demonstration first, or would you like to go straight to the live demonstration?" The Navy man makes a note on his clipboard. The rep looks nervous. "Let's see the video." Not even the slightest facial movement. Completely monotone. "Right this way, sir."
They watch the training video, and during the part about waste management the Navy man raises an eyebrow. Still, he doesn't say a word. Just watches on, silently. At the end of the video, the rep asks "Any questions?" The Navy man makes a few notes on his clipboard first. "Yes, I have a few. The report refers to a mess that occured. Does this have to do with the waste management system mentioned in the video demonstration?" The rep started sweating. "Well, actually, yes. It's...not something we're proud of. But we've certainly worked out the problems by now." The Navy man makes another note. "I see. Can we move onto the live demonstration?"
As they walk down the hallway, the rep begins to feel very uncomfortable. He glances back at the Navy man and realizes why: the Navy rep is staring at him. Not just for lack of anywhere else to look, but in a way that makes him feel very insecure. As if he's sizing him up at all times, trying to anticipate his next move, get inside his head. He looks ahead again and goes up to the double doors. "Here we are!" The Navy rep again doesn't change facial expressions or say anything.
Upon entering, the two men see two female soldiers in the combat suits standing near the entrance, talking. They notice the men and salute. "Cpl. Sanchez. Cpl. Woods. Where's Macintire?" He makes a show of looking around for her. "She's in the locker room sir. She's double checking her equipment, to avoid any...incidents." She glares in the NHA rep's direction and he gives her a sympathetic look.
"Well, let me start anyway. These are the updated PX-1000 combat suits, now labelled the PX-1100. They no longer have any problems with the waste management systems, and I've been assured this has been TESTED thoroughly." The Navy man writes on his clipboard again. "Can I get just a brief demo before the third girl arrives? Can we lock the doors and fire a few rounds from those rifles?" He gestures over to the weapons on a table near the entrance. "Oh, I don't see a problem with that. Who should go first?" The NHA rep looks back and forth between Sanchez and Woods. "We can both go, sir." Sanchez suggests. "Ah. Good enough, I suppose. Alright, follow me to the viewing room."
Once the two men start up the stairs to the viewing room, Sanchez leans over to whisper to Woods. "Ohmygod I have to go! I'm afraid to use the suit but I don't know how long this demo is going to last. What should I do?" Woods thinks a moment before flatly stating "Hold it." She then grabs a rifle and walks over to the firing range, adjusting her helmet. Sanchez frowns and follows suit.
The demonstration goes well, with the girls placing perfect shots on the targets from any distance. Blowback doesn't even seem to exist with the suits on. "And of course, the software for the augmented reality system has been improved. In just a month the targetting system actually works properly, and most of the glitches have been eliminated. It's still not perfect, however." The NHA rep continues his pitch as the Navy rep simply nods and scribbles on the clipboard. As the Navy rep watches the demo, he spots Sanchez wiggling her hips in-between magazines. "Is she feeling alright?" He points her out with his pen. "Ahh...I'm not sure. She seems ok." "Well, I've seen enough of this. The suit seems to function well, and I'll take the report's word for it on the other weapons. This is just a preliminary anyway. I'm curious to see the changes to the waste management system, though. Will this be a problem." The NHA rep started sweating again, terrified. "Well, I should hope...I mean it depends on the girls...they might not have to...but I mean with the rations we feed them, heh...heheh...ah." The Navy rep still remains stoic as ever. Not a single chortle. "Well, let's see then, shall we?" He rings the buzzer to signal the end of the live fire demo and opens the door. They both head down the stairs as the girls set down all their equipment. Again, Sanchez squirms as she puts her things away.
"So, we already have a dozen prototype suits set aside. They're all the updated 1100 models, so there shouldn't be any lingering issues." The Navy rep just writes on his clipboard again. No comments. No questions. "Ah, if you don't mind my asking, shouldn't you be a bit more inquisitive about this whole affair? I understand testing and inquiry is more rigorous after any incidents, especially in the arms industry." The man doesn't respond. The rep lets the subject drop as they're approached by Woods and Sanchez.
"Alright, moving right on to the next part of the demonstration..." Sanchez nudges Woods, and Woods leans over to whisper in her ear. "Don't worry, I'll do it. Just hold it." Sanchez smiles and pats Woods on the shoulder. "Any volunteers?" Woods raises her hand. "I have to go, sir." "Very good, Corporal. Go ahead." Woods blushes as one light comes on the hip plate. Woods' facial expression doesn't change until the light blinks off, then a very subtle look of relief fleets across her face for just a moment, before reverting back to her usual blank expression."
"Ah, Cpl. Woods, I hate to ask, but...can you remove your waste management device for a moment? I'd like to have a look at it." The NHA rep waits while she presses a button to detach the device and hands it over. He looks it over, then hands it to the Navy rep. He too looks it over, and hands it back. "Well, everything's in order, it seems! Perfect." He hands the device back to Woods, who reattaches it to the suit.
The Navy man makes another note on his clipboard, then steps over by the girls. "Excellent. We'll take it." The NHA rep is silent a moment, before stammering out "You'll...uh...take it?" "Yes, we'll take it." Again, he pauses in shock and confusion. "Well, forgive me if I'm incorrect, but you're a representative, correct? You're here to give your bosses an assessment of the technology, then they take a few for personal testing, and it's a very complicated process. What do you mean you'll 'take it?'"
"I mean, we'll TAKE it." Again, everyone in the room is puzzled. The NHA rep's radio starts making noise. He removes it from his belt and answers. "Hey, what's going on?" "Sir, guy from the Navy is here. We double-checked the ID of that first guy and it's a phony. I don't know who you've got in there with y-...oh holy shit." The radio went silent.
Everyone was quiet for a moment, until the NHA rep dared to speak. "Sir, who are you?" The man said nothing. "Sir I'm going to need to see your identification." Still nothing. The NHA rep stepped closer. "Sir, I'm going to h-" Just then, the double doors banged open, knocking out the NHA rep. The sudden noise took Sanchez and Woods by surprise, and Sanchez dropped to the ground, trying to keep her nerve. Two lights blinked on the front before Sanchez had any idea what was going on. "Oh shit...oh my god...what's happening?!" Sanchez felt herself let go of her bladder and sphincter at the same time and felt a hot stream of urine entering the device, making an almost inaudible whizzing noise. Worse, though, was her urge to shit. Falling down on her back knocked the panel, breaking the waste management system. She begins to tear up as she unleashes a torrent of diarrhea into the suit, partly mashing the brown mess up against her back and buttcheeks and partly releasing it into the hip panel, dripping some down onto the floor.
Two men with assault rifles grab the girls by the shoulders and lift them up at gunpoint, marching them into the hallway. Sanchez farts and loses control of her bowels again in the process. *Frrrp* Shit drips down her legs. The man with the clipboard sniffs the air. "I don't think they fixed the waste management device." He frowns. "We'll have a go at it when we have the suits."
A third man appears and hands the clipboard man a handgun. "Let's get the other suits and get out." They quickly move from room to room, looking for any trace of the suits. "Hey boss, don't you think they'd keep them someplace more secure?" "We're playing the odds." Sanchez continues farting and having terrible diarrhea in her suit. "Hey, stop spoiling the merchandise bitch." She whimpers.
MEANWHILE...
Showing posts with label one soldier at a time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label one soldier at a time. Show all posts
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
One Soldier at a Time: Part 2 - Live Demonstration 1
The men find themselves walking down the corridor again, ecstactic about the live demonstration. Was New Heaven Arms really ready to release such a visionary piece of technology? Would it truly prove itself on the battlefield? Time to find out.
The hallway ends at a large, metal double door. The NHA representative swings the doors wide and saunters into a long, high-ceilinged room, divided by tiles roughly 3x3 feet throughout the floor and ceiling. Four adorable (but gruff-looking) women stand not far from the entrance, each holding a different weapon: one holds a handgun, one an assault rifle, one a more conventional high-powered sniper rifle and one even holds an anti-tank weapon. They salute as the men walk in. The rep salutes back at them. "Gentlemen, these are our demonstrators." He points to each one in turn, and they all wave back. "Cpl. Amy Sanchez. Sgt. Abigail Guff. Sgt. Raegan Macintire. And last, Cpl. Imogen Woods."
Cpl. Sanchez is the shortest of the girls. Blond hair, blue eyes and fair complexion. Possibly the cutest of the girls, with the sweetest face. Not to be mistaken for innocent though: on the battlefield, she's dangerous. She wields the handgun, and is the current champion of the NRA's official target shooting competition.
Sgt. Guff is probably the LEAST cute of the girls. She has a strong, muscular face and black hair shaved into a fade. She has green eyes and is African-American, with a fairly light complexion. She holds the assault rifle, and is known to her squadmates as "Guff the Ruff."
Sgt. Macintire is of Irish descent, and it shows. Messy brown hair, wide brown eyes and a very excitable demeanor, she's easily the perkiest of the group. Truly an anomaly in the sniping world, she's able to keep 100% cool composure whenever the situation calls for it. Outside of combat, however, she's a rowdy one. She carries the sniper rifle, and has competed with it in several ISSF Olympic events.
Cpl. Woods is the stoic one of the group. She has very pale blonde hair, almost silver at first glance, and dark green eyes. She stands in a very uncomfortable-looking stance at nearly all times, rarely adding to a conversation. But she's bright: her CO's have testified to her leadership ability, and if she were more sociable would probably have been promoted much higher by now. She holds the anti-tank launcher, and has studied the manual endlessly every night for weeks.
"Now, if you'll follow me..." They all walk over to the left and file up a short staircase into a small viewing room. The rep clicks a button on the panel in front of him, bending over to speak into a microphone. "You ladies can begin, starting with Cpl. Sanchez." The women put their helmets on and Cpl. Sanchez stands at the firing range, the other women standing off to the side.
The men watch eagerly as the women all take their turns firing their weapons down the range, scoring near perfect on each target. The demonstration for the anti-tank weapon was particularly impressive: Cpl. Woods didn't even seem to change stance as she fired the missle. She was perfectly still for the entire demonstration.
The women remove their helmets and line up again near the entrance as the men come back down. The men shake hands with the soldiers, congratulating them on a successful demo. "Ah, but the demonstration isn't quite finished." The rep adds to the ongoing conversation. "First, I have a working model of the helmet the PX-1000 uses, you can all pass it around and have a look at the interface, and see how it feels to wear. The men do so, and are all in agreement of how comfortable the helmet actually is to wear. The interface, as the rep said, didn't work perfectly; the targetting system was glitchy and the interface just shut down altogether a few times, but the rep assured them it was a software issue and not a permanent problem.
Cpl. Sanchez clears her throat and says "Excuse me a moment." The men turns to face her and she smiles bashfully, before a tiny light on the hip plate comes on. "Aha! A perfect demonstration of the waste disposal feature. I can see from here that it's a 'number one.' Very excellent." The rep beams. The light stays on for a few more seconds before Woods sighs and the light blinks off. She gives the thumbs up to the group and they give her a short round of applause. She gives a hearty laugh in reply.
"Come to think of it, I don't suppose any of you ladies could offer a full demonstration?" The rep looks hopeful. The girls shift in place for a moment, before Macintire speaks up. "I think I can manage it, sir!" Sanchez giggles while the other two roll their eyes. "Is it ok if I wear my helmet? I'm REALLY shy." She puts her helmet on and turns around, bending forward with her hands resting on her knees, squatting down slightly. From behind the helmet they can hear a muffled "Mmnf." This time, two lights switch on on the hip plate. Macintire feels her sphincter opening up to welcome a hearty log, and...*Clnk* "Hm?" The interior of the suit closes up, disconnecting the hip plate from her ass. "Oh shit." She (appropriately) quips. A warm, mushy mass smashes up against her butt. *Pfft crkl* She's unable to control her movement now, and panics slightly. "Uhh, sir? We have a malfunction." More shit squeezes against her ass and legs, until she finally finishes releasing her smelly load. "Uh, wait, why does it stink? Phew!" Sanchez pinches her nose and shoots a puzzled look at the rep. The rep looks mortified.
"The girl is right. I thought the system eradicated odor." One of the men says. The rep looks worried now. "Well, this is obviously a malfunctioning unit. An anomaly. The next unit probably won't do anything like this. Uh, anyone else? Can we give a proper demonstration while Macintire cleans herself up?" Macintire waddles out of the room, groaning and mumbling the entire time, leaving a trail of putrid odor behind her. The men all step back and hide their noses in their sleeves.
Woods raises her hand to speak. "I can try, sir." "Very well, Woods. Go ahead." She doesn't even bothering turning around or putting her helmet on, she assumes a squat position and rests her arms on her knees. "I volunteer!" Sanchez hums. She bends forward in the same way that Macintire did and winks at the men. "Nngh!" Sanchez gives them all an exagerrated grunt, pushing a load into her plate. Two lights come on. Meanwhile, Woods is still completely silent, but two lights come on on her plate. "Nngh...big one." Sanchez giggles again and grunts. The lights blink once and Sanchez sighs. "All good so far!" Sanchez grunts again before...
Sanchez's plate pops off and lands on the floor, along with the log it was holding. "Crap!" She squats down and drops another lump onto the broken plate, then urinates all over the front and the floor. The men all groan in disgust and start crowding the rep, who's looking very nervous by now. Meanwhile, Woods is still concentrating, her eyes now closed. Two lights blink as she feels a soft load coming out and entering the container. A crackling noise comes from her bottom. *Crrklk* She sighs quietly and begins to stand up, waiting to see if she's finished. The lights go off and she stands up, standing perfectly still again. "It works fine." However, Guff begins to step away from her. "I don't think so, Woods." "What do yo...oh. I see." Her plate didn't fall off, nor did the suit seal up, but the smell is proof enough that it didn't work. Guff cups both hands to her nose. "Nasty, Woods. Really nasty!"
Sanchez is now holding her head in her hands, thoroughly embarassed. Woods is removing her plate, examining it for defects, and Guff...
*Prrt* Guff lets out a small fart. "Aw hell, I'm gettin' out of this thing before it screws up on me too!" She scrambles to get her plate off, heading towards the door, and...*Pllbbrrt!!* A loud fart and a huge load of diarrhea comes streaming out of her, filling the container and overflowing the unit, seeping out the sides. "Oh dammit!" She squats down and lets out another fart. *PblblttFFRRT* Another explosion of mud, and the the cracks in the panel are now flowing with feces. The smell is intolerable, and a few of the men gag. Sanchez almost starts to cry, but when she looks around, starts to laugh. "So...good demonstration?" She snickers.
Woods is sniffing her own load, but immediately pulls back. "...Ew." Sanchez is now finished, but has nothing to obscure her private bits and is thus squating down over the plate, humiliated. Guff has retreated to the corner and is still having explosive diarrhea in her suit, moaning and clutching her stomach. "Oh god make it end, I wanna get this thing off..."
The men all turn to the rep, who is slowly edging for the door. "So...what should the opening bid on the project be?" The men all walk out at once, leaving the rep alone in a room full of smelly, ashamed women. "Uh...sorry girls. Off to the showers I guess, huh?" Everyone, even Woods, stares daggers at him.
"Fuck, I'm gonna go get a drink. I need to have a talk with the engineers, and I'm not doing it sober. Or politely."
Elsewhere...
"FUCK! This thing has to come off. C'moon, I need a fucking shower...ergh...AAHH!" Macintire gives up and curls up on the locker room bench and begins to cry.
The hallway ends at a large, metal double door. The NHA representative swings the doors wide and saunters into a long, high-ceilinged room, divided by tiles roughly 3x3 feet throughout the floor and ceiling. Four adorable (but gruff-looking) women stand not far from the entrance, each holding a different weapon: one holds a handgun, one an assault rifle, one a more conventional high-powered sniper rifle and one even holds an anti-tank weapon. They salute as the men walk in. The rep salutes back at them. "Gentlemen, these are our demonstrators." He points to each one in turn, and they all wave back. "Cpl. Amy Sanchez. Sgt. Abigail Guff. Sgt. Raegan Macintire. And last, Cpl. Imogen Woods."
Cpl. Sanchez is the shortest of the girls. Blond hair, blue eyes and fair complexion. Possibly the cutest of the girls, with the sweetest face. Not to be mistaken for innocent though: on the battlefield, she's dangerous. She wields the handgun, and is the current champion of the NRA's official target shooting competition.
Sgt. Guff is probably the LEAST cute of the girls. She has a strong, muscular face and black hair shaved into a fade. She has green eyes and is African-American, with a fairly light complexion. She holds the assault rifle, and is known to her squadmates as "Guff the Ruff."
Sgt. Macintire is of Irish descent, and it shows. Messy brown hair, wide brown eyes and a very excitable demeanor, she's easily the perkiest of the group. Truly an anomaly in the sniping world, she's able to keep 100% cool composure whenever the situation calls for it. Outside of combat, however, she's a rowdy one. She carries the sniper rifle, and has competed with it in several ISSF Olympic events.
Cpl. Woods is the stoic one of the group. She has very pale blonde hair, almost silver at first glance, and dark green eyes. She stands in a very uncomfortable-looking stance at nearly all times, rarely adding to a conversation. But she's bright: her CO's have testified to her leadership ability, and if she were more sociable would probably have been promoted much higher by now. She holds the anti-tank launcher, and has studied the manual endlessly every night for weeks.
"Now, if you'll follow me..." They all walk over to the left and file up a short staircase into a small viewing room. The rep clicks a button on the panel in front of him, bending over to speak into a microphone. "You ladies can begin, starting with Cpl. Sanchez." The women put their helmets on and Cpl. Sanchez stands at the firing range, the other women standing off to the side.
The men watch eagerly as the women all take their turns firing their weapons down the range, scoring near perfect on each target. The demonstration for the anti-tank weapon was particularly impressive: Cpl. Woods didn't even seem to change stance as she fired the missle. She was perfectly still for the entire demonstration.
The women remove their helmets and line up again near the entrance as the men come back down. The men shake hands with the soldiers, congratulating them on a successful demo. "Ah, but the demonstration isn't quite finished." The rep adds to the ongoing conversation. "First, I have a working model of the helmet the PX-1000 uses, you can all pass it around and have a look at the interface, and see how it feels to wear. The men do so, and are all in agreement of how comfortable the helmet actually is to wear. The interface, as the rep said, didn't work perfectly; the targetting system was glitchy and the interface just shut down altogether a few times, but the rep assured them it was a software issue and not a permanent problem.
Cpl. Sanchez clears her throat and says "Excuse me a moment." The men turns to face her and she smiles bashfully, before a tiny light on the hip plate comes on. "Aha! A perfect demonstration of the waste disposal feature. I can see from here that it's a 'number one.' Very excellent." The rep beams. The light stays on for a few more seconds before Woods sighs and the light blinks off. She gives the thumbs up to the group and they give her a short round of applause. She gives a hearty laugh in reply.
"Come to think of it, I don't suppose any of you ladies could offer a full demonstration?" The rep looks hopeful. The girls shift in place for a moment, before Macintire speaks up. "I think I can manage it, sir!" Sanchez giggles while the other two roll their eyes. "Is it ok if I wear my helmet? I'm REALLY shy." She puts her helmet on and turns around, bending forward with her hands resting on her knees, squatting down slightly. From behind the helmet they can hear a muffled "Mmnf." This time, two lights switch on on the hip plate. Macintire feels her sphincter opening up to welcome a hearty log, and...*Clnk* "Hm?" The interior of the suit closes up, disconnecting the hip plate from her ass. "Oh shit." She (appropriately) quips. A warm, mushy mass smashes up against her butt. *Pfft crkl* She's unable to control her movement now, and panics slightly. "Uhh, sir? We have a malfunction." More shit squeezes against her ass and legs, until she finally finishes releasing her smelly load. "Uh, wait, why does it stink? Phew!" Sanchez pinches her nose and shoots a puzzled look at the rep. The rep looks mortified.
"The girl is right. I thought the system eradicated odor." One of the men says. The rep looks worried now. "Well, this is obviously a malfunctioning unit. An anomaly. The next unit probably won't do anything like this. Uh, anyone else? Can we give a proper demonstration while Macintire cleans herself up?" Macintire waddles out of the room, groaning and mumbling the entire time, leaving a trail of putrid odor behind her. The men all step back and hide their noses in their sleeves.
Woods raises her hand to speak. "I can try, sir." "Very well, Woods. Go ahead." She doesn't even bothering turning around or putting her helmet on, she assumes a squat position and rests her arms on her knees. "I volunteer!" Sanchez hums. She bends forward in the same way that Macintire did and winks at the men. "Nngh!" Sanchez gives them all an exagerrated grunt, pushing a load into her plate. Two lights come on. Meanwhile, Woods is still completely silent, but two lights come on on her plate. "Nngh...big one." Sanchez giggles again and grunts. The lights blink once and Sanchez sighs. "All good so far!" Sanchez grunts again before...
Sanchez's plate pops off and lands on the floor, along with the log it was holding. "Crap!" She squats down and drops another lump onto the broken plate, then urinates all over the front and the floor. The men all groan in disgust and start crowding the rep, who's looking very nervous by now. Meanwhile, Woods is still concentrating, her eyes now closed. Two lights blink as she feels a soft load coming out and entering the container. A crackling noise comes from her bottom. *Crrklk* She sighs quietly and begins to stand up, waiting to see if she's finished. The lights go off and she stands up, standing perfectly still again. "It works fine." However, Guff begins to step away from her. "I don't think so, Woods." "What do yo...oh. I see." Her plate didn't fall off, nor did the suit seal up, but the smell is proof enough that it didn't work. Guff cups both hands to her nose. "Nasty, Woods. Really nasty!"
Sanchez is now holding her head in her hands, thoroughly embarassed. Woods is removing her plate, examining it for defects, and Guff...
*Prrt* Guff lets out a small fart. "Aw hell, I'm gettin' out of this thing before it screws up on me too!" She scrambles to get her plate off, heading towards the door, and...*Pllbbrrt!!* A loud fart and a huge load of diarrhea comes streaming out of her, filling the container and overflowing the unit, seeping out the sides. "Oh dammit!" She squats down and lets out another fart. *PblblttFFRRT* Another explosion of mud, and the the cracks in the panel are now flowing with feces. The smell is intolerable, and a few of the men gag. Sanchez almost starts to cry, but when she looks around, starts to laugh. "So...good demonstration?" She snickers.
Woods is sniffing her own load, but immediately pulls back. "...Ew." Sanchez is now finished, but has nothing to obscure her private bits and is thus squating down over the plate, humiliated. Guff has retreated to the corner and is still having explosive diarrhea in her suit, moaning and clutching her stomach. "Oh god make it end, I wanna get this thing off..."
The men all turn to the rep, who is slowly edging for the door. "So...what should the opening bid on the project be?" The men all walk out at once, leaving the rep alone in a room full of smelly, ashamed women. "Uh...sorry girls. Off to the showers I guess, huh?" Everyone, even Woods, stares daggers at him.
"Fuck, I'm gonna go get a drink. I need to have a talk with the engineers, and I'm not doing it sober. Or politely."
Elsewhere...
"FUCK! This thing has to come off. C'moon, I need a fucking shower...ergh...AAHH!" Macintire gives up and curls up on the locker room bench and begins to cry.
One Soldier at a Time: Part 1 - Video Demonstration
A man in a very expensive suit leads a small group of equally expensively dressed gentlemen down a brightly lit hallway, walking backwards and talking at the same time. "So you see, this new suit will usher in a whole new era of warefare. Environments which were once untraversable will now be trivial to pass through. The casualty rate will drop significantly and soldiers will feel far more secure in a firefight. We will have an immeasurable advantage over the competition." A murmur runs through the crowd as the men chatter excitedly. "If you'll step into this room, we'll watch a very brief video presentation. It also includes a taped demonstration of the suit in action. After this, you'll be able to see several soldiers using the suit in a live demo." The men chatter even more loudly this time. Excitement exudes from the group as they cross the threshhold into a small presentation room with a projector already set up.
The man leading the group waits for them all to sit down and flicks off the lights, hitting a button on the remote he pulls from his pocket. A video starts playing on the opposite wall, and the men watch with their full attention.
"This is the new PX-1000 powered combat suit." A buff female soldier holding an assault rifle stands in the middle of a field, obviously a proving ground. She's wearing a form fitting suit, with special plates built into the wrists, chest, part of the stomach and most of her legs, as well as a strange-looking piece built around her hips and across her crotch. "This suit is just the beginning in a line of powered combat suits being developed by the New Heaven Arms Corporation. Our hope is that the PX line will become a regular, permanent fixture of the United States military." One of the men in the room speaks up "Lofty goals, eh?" A few of the men snicker before the man giving the presentation silences them.
The woman on screen places a helmet on her head and hits a button on the side, closing the visor. "The PX-1000's helmet has built in communication devices as well as a UV-resistant visor. The entire thing is highly bullet and impact resistant." The woman readies her weapon and fires at some distant targets. The camera zooms in to reveal the targets, and all the shots are placed almost perfectly. The men in the room all look impressed already. "The PX-1000's Virtual Muscle system is designed to stablize the wearer's aim, and the helmet's visor is installed with the latest in augmented reality technology, allowing for advanced target identification systems." The man with the remote chimes in. "The software for the AR system still has a few bugs, but the suit is fully functional without it, and it can't be turned off within the suit itself. Also, the helmet has a filtration system, so it can function as a gas mask."
"The PX-1000 is resitant to bullets, heavy impacts and indirect explosions. It is built from special space-age metals and nano-fibers for maximum protection." The woman removes her helmet and wipes her forehead. "Hot? The PX-1000 has a cooling system built right into the suit for high-temperature environments, as well as a heating system for low-temperature environments. Sweat is collected in a resevior, filtered and recycled into the in-suit hydration tank." The woman then screws up her face and rubs her inner thigh. "But what about other bodily wastes, you might ask?" Some of the men in the room looked interested.
The woman squats down slightly and a look of relief comes across her face. "As you may notice, first of all, the suit is built for a wide range of movement. Now, what's happening here is..." A small animation plays in the corner as the woman continues urinating, of both male and female genitalia urinating into the small compartment, with the urine being stored in a small pouch in the hip piece. The woman sighs and stands up. Then she frowns and squats down even lower, grabbing her stomach and screwing up her face. A less graphic animation of feces being stored in a compartment on the hip plate is show in the corner. She stands up again and looks even more relieved; she's actually smiling.
Some of the men look disgusted (if highly interested), others highly intrigued, and one of them looks very excited at the whole idea. The man with the remote grins.
"The PX-1000's waste disposal features include scent eradicating technology, as well as a system to compact larger movements." The hip plate whirs for a moment as the woman looks surprised, then comes to a halt. She blushes and shuffles around uncomfortably, giggling.
"And one more important feature of the PX-1000 is related to it's waste management feature. Watch." The woman clicks a button on the hip plate and it begins whirring, popping off into her hand. The crotch area of the suit quickly closes up to protect her modesty. She places it on the ground and hits another button, causing it to move foward across the ground. After a few minutes, once it's far out of range, it explodes. The men in the room are taken aback. Urine and feces are spread across the ground, smoking. "The PX-1000 employs basic psychological and biological warfare within it's waste management system, for use in emergencies or possibly ambushes." The camera refocuses on the woman, who holds her gun at her side and winks, giving a thumbs up to the camera. "New Heaven Arms: Building a better war, one soldier at a time."
The projector automatically clicks off and the man with the remote flicks the lights back on. "Now, gentlemen, you've had a taste. Is anyone excited about a live demonstration?" The men all leap up at once and follow the man out of the room.
TO BE CONTINUED
The man leading the group waits for them all to sit down and flicks off the lights, hitting a button on the remote he pulls from his pocket. A video starts playing on the opposite wall, and the men watch with their full attention.
"This is the new PX-1000 powered combat suit." A buff female soldier holding an assault rifle stands in the middle of a field, obviously a proving ground. She's wearing a form fitting suit, with special plates built into the wrists, chest, part of the stomach and most of her legs, as well as a strange-looking piece built around her hips and across her crotch. "This suit is just the beginning in a line of powered combat suits being developed by the New Heaven Arms Corporation. Our hope is that the PX line will become a regular, permanent fixture of the United States military." One of the men in the room speaks up "Lofty goals, eh?" A few of the men snicker before the man giving the presentation silences them.
The woman on screen places a helmet on her head and hits a button on the side, closing the visor. "The PX-1000's helmet has built in communication devices as well as a UV-resistant visor. The entire thing is highly bullet and impact resistant." The woman readies her weapon and fires at some distant targets. The camera zooms in to reveal the targets, and all the shots are placed almost perfectly. The men in the room all look impressed already. "The PX-1000's Virtual Muscle system is designed to stablize the wearer's aim, and the helmet's visor is installed with the latest in augmented reality technology, allowing for advanced target identification systems." The man with the remote chimes in. "The software for the AR system still has a few bugs, but the suit is fully functional without it, and it can't be turned off within the suit itself. Also, the helmet has a filtration system, so it can function as a gas mask."
"The PX-1000 is resitant to bullets, heavy impacts and indirect explosions. It is built from special space-age metals and nano-fibers for maximum protection." The woman removes her helmet and wipes her forehead. "Hot? The PX-1000 has a cooling system built right into the suit for high-temperature environments, as well as a heating system for low-temperature environments. Sweat is collected in a resevior, filtered and recycled into the in-suit hydration tank." The woman then screws up her face and rubs her inner thigh. "But what about other bodily wastes, you might ask?" Some of the men in the room looked interested.
The woman squats down slightly and a look of relief comes across her face. "As you may notice, first of all, the suit is built for a wide range of movement. Now, what's happening here is..." A small animation plays in the corner as the woman continues urinating, of both male and female genitalia urinating into the small compartment, with the urine being stored in a small pouch in the hip piece. The woman sighs and stands up. Then she frowns and squats down even lower, grabbing her stomach and screwing up her face. A less graphic animation of feces being stored in a compartment on the hip plate is show in the corner. She stands up again and looks even more relieved; she's actually smiling.
Some of the men look disgusted (if highly interested), others highly intrigued, and one of them looks very excited at the whole idea. The man with the remote grins.
"The PX-1000's waste disposal features include scent eradicating technology, as well as a system to compact larger movements." The hip plate whirs for a moment as the woman looks surprised, then comes to a halt. She blushes and shuffles around uncomfortably, giggling.
"And one more important feature of the PX-1000 is related to it's waste management feature. Watch." The woman clicks a button on the hip plate and it begins whirring, popping off into her hand. The crotch area of the suit quickly closes up to protect her modesty. She places it on the ground and hits another button, causing it to move foward across the ground. After a few minutes, once it's far out of range, it explodes. The men in the room are taken aback. Urine and feces are spread across the ground, smoking. "The PX-1000 employs basic psychological and biological warfare within it's waste management system, for use in emergencies or possibly ambushes." The camera refocuses on the woman, who holds her gun at her side and winks, giving a thumbs up to the camera. "New Heaven Arms: Building a better war, one soldier at a time."
The projector automatically clicks off and the man with the remote flicks the lights back on. "Now, gentlemen, you've had a taste. Is anyone excited about a live demonstration?" The men all leap up at once and follow the man out of the room.
TO BE CONTINUED
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)