Full awareness was required.
Davis blinked and inhaled sharply; he must have dozed off! Instead of the Quarter-sized disc of the moon, his full field of vision was filled with a ghostly blue-white glow emanating from a potato shaped asteroid.
"VT-012.., Cocksucker respond. Over" he thought.
"Wha? Ho-Ly crap! I'm here Tightass. I must have dozed off there! Damn we are close! Over"
Davis accessed his GPS function and navigation software. He found that he 'knew' exactly where he was in relation to Achilles, Cocksucker and the target crater; Like a homing pigeon only larger.
"We're ok, exactly on course and speed for a soft landing. Over" he thought, trying to reassure Cocksucker.
"I guess our interfaces decided it was nap time. Over"
"I'm definitely going to ask the Flight Captain about that. Bad enough these things making us hornier than a breeder in heat, but dropping us into standby mode without our consent seems a tad dangerous. Over"
"Ah well, I'm sure it was only doing what it thought best. Over" replied Cocksucker, sounding totally unconcerned.
Shaking his head Davis, decided to concentrate on landing. It wouldn't matter who was controlling who if they you were spread across the surface like peanut butter.
With a few spurts of gas from his verniers he aligned his tail with the ground and folded his wings, using his main thrusters to decelerate until he was in freefall, neither descending or ascending.
The sensation of transformation started, his wings becoming numb, his legs unlocking. It felt great! He couldn't resist running his newly restored hands over his body, feeling every plate and securing clip. Deciding whether Fighter mode was 'better' than Battloid mode was going to be an internal debate that would take years.
Aiming for the centre of the crater he raised his right arm and launched a harpoon with a tow-line attached, once it was secure he simply reeled himself in.
VT-012 did the same, landing next to him in the crater.
Carefully Davis bent down and picked up a handful of the asteroid material. It was cold and slippery like slightly melted ice cubes, but at the same time having a granular texture like sand from a beach running through his metallic fingers.
He sat down and turned his sensor-encrusted face toward the sun, which had just broached the horizon, feeling luxuriantly warm against his hull.
"What are you doing Tightass? Over"
"We've got 20 minutes before the target array comes into view, I figured to catch some rays. Over." replied Davis leaning back and stretching luxuriantly on the deep space beach.
"Sounds like a plan. Over" replied Cocksucker lying down next to him.
A minute later Davis felt something gently brush against his left missile launcher, stroking. It didn't take interference from his interface to realize that Cocksucker wanted something a little sexier than just being at peace in the beautifully bright airless paradise.
For someone who'd been vehemently claiming to be Straight Hetro Boy, Andy was turning out to be wonderfully gay, reveling in his newly implanted love of cock. Davis supposed he ought to be alarmed by the changes in his lover's character, but couldn't work up the energy... Not when he was doing 'that' to his left thigh actuator housing.
Of course once his Interface registered the type 44 caress, it wanted in on the action, feeding some interesting foreplay maneuvers into Davis' brain.
Davis obediently complied, rolling onto his side and drifting his hand across Cocksucker's cockpit tracing the metal inlays with a finger.
Instinctively, he looked Cocksucker in the eye, laser beams connecting, synchronizing. Thoughts of the EDF, the targeting array and the mission vanished instantly. Instead they would lie here on the sunlit asteroid and engage in mutual foreplay bringing each other to mutual orgasm in precisely 54.148 minutes ....32.412 minutes after the target array traversed overhead.
Cocksucker moved his knee up between Davis's legs rubbing against the snub nosed tip of his cockpit. had VT-011 had a cock assembly this would have been where it would have been rooted. Davis missed having a cock, but was reassured that if nothing else, the alien interface knew how to provide orgasms as good if not better than he'd have managed unassisted.
Trusting my Interface is a correct response. I should rely on my Interface for all my sexual functions
The thought was obviously generated by his Interface. But that didn't matter as he relied on his Interface during his sexual functions.
Cocksucker's questing fingers did something wonderful to his blackbox access hatch and he arched his back in the first of the twenty orgasms that they had scheduled.
At some point Davis found that he was no longer measuring time in minutes but in orgasms instead. Just before his 17th orgasm he felt the asteroid move beneath him like experiencing a a mini earthquake, for a second he thought he was experiencing that rare 'the Earth moved for me' orgasm, but then he saw IT, filling the sky over Cocksucker's shoulder.
Davis pushed Cocksucker off, aborting the rest of the orgasm sequence and clamping down hard on the Interface's access to his mind.
Overhead, the starry sky was filled with a heart-stoppingly familiar alien craft, miles long and covered in spine like towers. It was The Great Abductor, the alien craft that had ruined his country and turned his beloved brother into a nearly mindless herd beast. Davis concentrated on his rage, drowning out the love for the Abductor and sense of 'home' leaking from his Interface.
The Enemy had returned.