Distressed III

Distress III
Jonny and the T-72 had become partners quickly, finally having someone to confide in and having nothing else to pass the time they communicated, at first it was details about what diversion they wanted, then it just turned into conversation. Jonny quickly realized that she was a tank, and asked her many questions about things he was curious about. It took a day or so to make a splint for Jonny’s legs and once that was done really they had no objectives to accomplish, they just talked. They told stories of home, of service, and of jokes. Being in military service they had a common dark humor, very dark and twisted humor. They bitched about faulty new gear, rambled on about how nothing in the military really makes sense, and gripe about any other thing a lower enlisted can possibly gripe about. 72 had warmed up to her new comrade and asked to be given hot food again from the terrorists, as they thought the canned food they were giving her she was eating whole, and when it was received she passed it to Jonny, and he admitted that Achmed was right, the Qaeda did have pretty good food. It was after a month of recovery when 72 explained her origin story to him, how she got there.
“I was once a proud Soviet tank, once I was the most formidable beast on the field in the Red Army, but, like all technology, I was replaced. Eventually the crumbling Union decided to start selling Soviet military grade weaponry to our allies and I’ll admit, I was a little scared then. I wasn’t sold then, instead I was sold by Russia, after the American invasion of Iraq, to the Afghanistan army. The level of respect I was given plummeted to a mere awkwardness, but improved over time. One night, one night the base was raided and I was stolen and brought here. At first I was a willing ally to the Al-Qaeda until I noticed that I was treated even worse here, and the things I was made to do was horrible, inexcusable, and overall repulsive.” She mentioned how in the Quran forbids masturbation, but doesn’t mention anything about animal sex, and then she stated how she had sexual advances on her but when she refused them she started a lot of problems and this led to a fallout between her and her ‘allies’ which eventually led to her being raped twice, an untimely and mysterious death of a high ranking terrorist, and that this led to her being thrown into this pit and do nothing but stare out at a mountain. The rape triggered her mission to get out; she had already dealt blows and accomplished many goals before she fetched Jonny, ans they had many more to achieve. That story made Jonny respect her a little more and wish to help her more, but at the same time she’s still an enemy. And as he explained how he felt to her, he recited a good quote he picked up from his favorite game ever.
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
“What’s that mean, John?” She thought Jonny was his whole name so she nicknamed his nickname.
“It means that you and I aren’t on good terms, but we both hate the terrorists more.”
“So we work together like in the Great Patriotic War?”
“Exactly.”
“I would consider you a friend, one of my closest friends, John.”
“Why’s that?”
“You listen more than anyone has before, we’re funny, mostly I enjoy your company.You appreciate my probably terrible English and deal with it.”
“For being taught during the cold war, and only now using it, it’s pretty good, tankovy.”
“Thank you John, that’s a little uplifting.” Time elapsed as they sat there, doing almost nothing, the boredom was unbearable that day and Jonny asked if he could look out the periscope. She allowed him, and he struggled to contort and move his body to the scope, she helped move his stiff legs. She would relax and move his muscles regularly to keep them healthy and prevent from locking up but even still the lack of use was apparent as he pained to move. But it was all worth it. He spun his little world around, taking in the sunlight, the colors, the ever-familiar smell of shit that is the Middle East-neither knew quite why it ALWAYS smelled like shit-and all the intelligence. So many hidden bombs and weaponry disguised to hide from peering drone eyes! He was breath taken and astonished with how much the goat-fuckers had! Tankovy assured him it wouldn’t be around that long with their plan, but he was still shook, maybe the war wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Well, the last part was known, just that America was trying to ‘leave’ the conflict. While he was looking around he tried to see what tank she was, she said she was a tank, but not the model. He couldn’t get a fix on exactly what she was, but based on her height she’s post T-55.He really wanted to know what she was it was driving him nuts! He could have asked but he refused to let his only mind game end so soon. After all, it was going to be months before he could see much else.
And months it was, about five and a half months elapsed before they broke off the casts and splints. They seriously started planning the attack, she began stirring again, a trend she introduced long ago so nobody would think differently when she’d randomly get up and drive around. Jonny would watch and note the locations of key assets, this affected their plans but they were determined to make this all happen. As the date grew closer Jonny would curl up into a ball to work and stretch his muscles, he’d curl for ten minutes and rest for five, again and again until he could do it effortlessly again. Tankovy had noted that without much to groom himself Jonny’s beard had grown long and full, his hair was a mess and his face dirty. He would blend in well with the right clothes, so she got to fabricating him some garments and robes and a turban for him to wear. It would at least help him blend in more than a destroyed American uniform. She had also began making her own little bombs to use against the Taliban, she had played around with timers and had perfected a time fuse for an hour. It worked every time she tested it, the timer not the bombs. As the sun set on the game day they prepared mentally for the challenge. As the time ticked away until about 2340 local time they reviewed and reviewed and reviewed, practiced and practiced and practiced. There was only one thing left to the wind and that was his strength. They worried that he wouldn’t be able to walk on his weak legs. “You ready John?”
“Show time, I’m ready.” He gathered the bombs and put them in his string bag with the timers set, he really hoped he could trust Tankovy to set them right. She double checked her set ups nearly every day.On her cue he opened the hatch and took a deep breath, and climbed out of the hatch. His body ached, creaked, groaned and stretched. He sat on her hull and readied himself for impact, he jumped off and his legs instantly buckled. He came crashing to the ground in pain and misery, grunting and seething, Tankovy yelped worried and scared. She went to get him and call it off when he struggled up, forcing himself up like a drunk. He staggered to his feet and endured the pain of his shaking legs as he stood there, just happy to be there. He carried on, putting forth his effort to get to his first marker.
First he stopped by a cave entrance covered by a plywood sheet with sand and rocks glued to the wood and that was further camouflaged by brush in front of that. He placed a bomb under the sheet of wood next to a pile of rocks that supported the side. He then shrugged on, hobbling down the way to the I.E.D. pile and put two there, just in case one faulted. Next he moved over to the other side and put one by a few sandbags, that spot had problems with mudslides and they were hoping to trigger one with the bomb. Next was some more explosive equipment set out for quick use, most was tucked away in the caves and she wasn’t going to risk her biggest asset that much. Regardless he went over to the entrance of the cave that they used for ammo and tossed one into the black void, hoping it would reach. That bomb was for the livestock but he untied the gate and their leads. He wasn’t that cruel. Lastly was thier fuel depot, it was a bunch of Jerry cans, oil barrels, and one old septic tank. Even still it was a lot of gas. Tankovy had already grabbed her fuels and clustered all the fuel together for the bomb. He tucked one under a Jerry can and stood up, turned around, and saw a figure off on the other side of the valley. The rest of his body started to quiver. He had no guns, no more bombs, and knew almost no Arabic, hide, stupid!
He panicked and looked around, he wanted to hide under the fuel but how would he get in there? He looked around and thought, cave? He might be going there. Animals? What if he’s going for some goat milk? FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCKITY FUCK! He decided on something but it was too late, he was seen and the figure was approaching. He shook and came up with a ploy, a folly, to try to get the upper hand in a fight. As the figure approached Jonny acted ill and sickly, which he was so it was a rather easy act, and once the man was close enough he acted as if he was falling. The man-who was asking if he was alright-dropped his gun and went to catch Jonny. Jonny raised his fist and threw himself into the man. He landed a punch right in the man’s eye and fell into him, catching himself while the man momentarily held him. Jonny then lashed his head up into the man’s jaw. He gained his footing and stood against the arab. Now the arab was angry and was realizing that this wasn’t an ally, he reeled back and instantly charged in. Jonny’s training kicked in and he stood to throw him down, the terrorist fell right into the setup and almost effortlessly Jonny wrapped him up and twisted him onto his back, straddled him, and chocked him while punching into his temple. The terrorist used a free arm to swipe at Jonny’s arm, dropping Jonny onto him, Jonny came up and tried to choke him again but his hand slipped up and he had his hand over his mouth. The terrorist played dirty, trying to preserve his life, and bit at Jonny’s hand. Jonny growled in anger and pain and kneed the jaw again, this time catching the tongue and severing it. The terrorist screamed and covered his mouth, still screaming and thrashing about. Jonny lunged off, grabbed the gun, and smashed in the terrorist’s head with the butt over and over until he was dead and then some. He stood over the terrorist almost hyperventilating, and looked upon his work. The terrorist’s tongue had indeed been severed as it hung out of what was left of a skull, the eyes popped out and the brains glistened in the moonlight and darkened the blue-lit sand. The blood flowed like wine, and like wine stained all it touch, the sand turned black and shone like oil. Bits of bone and teeth littered like glass and hair was all over the place making it all one sloppy mess. Jonny looked at his hand, it was bleeding vigorously and his thumb was spurting blood like a hose. He instantly grabbed that and held tight, painfully tight, as he very slowly felt everything return to his sense while his adrenaline pumped. He was running with rifle and thumb in hand to Tankovy. He rushed up to her and begged “bandage! Bandage! Please, bandage!” She calmly moved his hand and then rushed to stop the arterial bleeding. She lifted him up into her driver’s hatch and carefully wrapped his palm and fingers. He looked into her eyes, they were a light blue with white impressions. He looked over her turret, it was a low and wide turret with an oblong shape that was tallest on his left, her right, where he would sit. She had a massive lamp on the right side of her gun and a massive machine gun on her roof for the commander. Her turret cheeks had bits and tubes on them for smoke charges he reckoned. He figured out which tank she was. He couldn’t stop himself from saying it. “You have beautiful eyes, Tankovy 72.”
She stopped and thought, then glanced up to his eyes. “Thank you.” She went back to finishing the wrap and Jonny watched her. Once it was wrapped up he climbed into the turret on his own, surprising her. He climbed into the hatch and waited, and she waited, they waited silently. Now it was her half of the plan. At exactly 0040 the bombs detonated. The ground shook and the entire valley illuminated with fire and filled with ash. She kicked her engine to life and it roared to life, amidst the screams, explosions, and rumbling Jonny heard the engine purr and growl, the heavy diesel engine whined and wheezed as it shifted gears, then again hummed as she sped towards the fire and chaos. As her skin grew hotter her adrenaline pumped harder, her hope rose, and her determination strengthened. Jonny watched through the periscopes the damage they caused and it brought delight to him, but it wasn’t enough. He opened the hatch and stood up. Tankovy was shocked. “Wha-What are you doing!?”
“Fuck these bastards!” He grabbed the heavy machine gun and racked the slide. He shifted the gun over to the side and pressed the butterfly trigger, shooting at anything standing at human height. The massive gun tore anything flesh in half, ensuring that it was going to die. All Jonny felt while he cut down the dozens of terrorists down was the rattling in his bones, his arms going numb, and the vibrations of the engine in his legs. He chanted various insults and phases of vengeance as his blood boiled at the thought of letting one of them survive. He gunned all the terrorists that were confused, scared, panicking, and grabbing whatever they could to defend themselves to no avail.
“John! Aim front! Guards!” She automatically turned the gun to the front and pointed at the areas the RPGs usually waited. One instantly stood up to aim at her but a burst from Jonny’s gun hit him in the neck and flung his head into the night sky. The other guard freaked out, panicked, and prematurely launched his rocket into the other side of the mountain. That triggered a rock slide that fell behind them. The man who would give the signal of enemy stood bewildered by the hill, she specifically changed course to hit him, and when she did his body collapsed like a wet noodle against her bow, splitting open his guts and slowly slipped off her bow, being dragged and gutted as he completely fell off her body.
They raced into the dunes and kept going, laughing and celebrating that they got away! Jonny was going home! He was very excited, over joyed and tearing up. Tankovy was free! She could go home! She felt a wall of emotions hit her, she, too, teared up. Once they felt that they were in the clear they stopped and discussed where they were, she pulled out a map and Jonny went back down to her diver’s hatch to help navigate. She could barely pull her gaze off of him, she had no idea how good looking of a man he was until then, she just had the time to think about it. He scanned over and over the map trying to read the Arabic writing, she did steal it from the terrorists. Suddenly he had to piss, he asked to relieve himself.
“Go ahead, John, no more shell case.” He was excited about the freedom she granted him, he climbed out and walked down and a little behind her on the slope and undid his pants, and relieved himself. He moaned out in relaxation, and enjoyed himself. It occured to Tankovy what she really wanted!
“Ah, yeah.” He moaned as the stream eneded.
Jonny?
“Yeah, Tankony?” He asked shaking his dong off.
Don’t bother zipping your fly!” He was about to ask why when he turned to glance at her and knew why.

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Distressed II

Distress II
Jonny Blacked out as soon as he heard a loud crashing noise, his screams of pain and pleas went unnoticed. He didn’t even know what happened, it was all a flash, then a blur, next thing he knew he was on his back, couldn’t move his legs, and was staring at the ceiling of some Afghan house. He tried thrashing about to get unstuck or get up, but all that did was make it hurt more and black out quicker. He passed out just after the black out, and was unconscious. That was when the 72 found him. She scanned over him with her eyes a few times to assess his wounds and determine if he was worth it, and he was. She determined his legs might heal, but weren’t vital to his health. She used manipulators to hold him still while the tendril probes pierced his body as if to transform him to check his bone composition. His right leg was broken in to spots and dislocated, she quickly popped it back into place, and his left leg was troublesome. His left leg was closest to the blast and was broken, shattered, and probably wouldn’t recover. She figured it was really just held together by his skin. While he had many open wounds and was bleeding heavily she cautiously removed his trousers, wrapped his legs in bandages she had collected or stolen, and ensured there was no more bleeding in his lower body. She put his pants back on and moved him carefully onto a bench’s seat, and used it as a stretcher. She searched his body for any tracking equipment, she dropped anything she suspected of tracking him and stole some electronics from his equipment like batteries, plugs, an antenna, anything she thought could be useful as a component. She then placed him on her engine deck and covered him with a blanket after washing off his head to check for wounds-just some scrapes and a massive bruise-and to make sure he didn’t dehydrate or cook to death. She then backed out and went back to camp.
She traveled into the mountains and through a winding path to where there were two men and a herd of goats resting in the shade of the mountain. The two men pulled out a radio and talked into it, she passed the guards. She moved further in and entered the main hub of the camp, caves and tunnels surrounded her, all etched into the mountainside like it were an ant pile. She ventured further, weaving through stocks of I.E.D. material, animals, people, and shit, and reached a pit where she resided, it faced the larger way in, the way laden with mines, I.E.D.s and traps. She was the final obstacle. It was here she moved him to her front and covered him with more blankets, all soaked in collected water to cool him off and clean him up. They were the hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs, ragged, torn, bloody, and patchy, this is how the Al-Qaeda treated their assets’ needs. Nevertheless they did the job and further probing indicated his internal body temperature was leveling out and cooling. She constantly rotated the blankets through the tub to keep him cool, and was further inspecting his wounds, guarding him from anyone curious, and treated him as she saw fit. Once nighttime hit she moved him ever so carefully into her hull through her turret. It was crowded, probably uncomfortable, but this was her best way of protecting him. She had decided that she would splint his legs and let them heal, so that can be used in her favor if she’s tried in a court against her. She wanted him awake badly, so he could eat, but wanted to let him strengthen first, but she figured if he can’t eat he can’t grow, so she lit a match right under his nose.
Jonny suddenly jolted to life, it was loud, echoing, and a dim red from a match about two inches from the tip of his nose. Before he could scream a sturdy hand clasped over his mouth while many more grabbed him and held him down. He resisted and shook trying to escape but it was useless, he was locked down tight. Suddenly a snake-like entity moved out from under a ledge and opened like a banana almost and produced a long needle that glimmered red and black in the light. His eyes darted around and noticed he was in a bubble, a bubble with a monstrously large assembly in the middle and radio-looking gear to his right. The seat he was in was like a bicycle seat and the backrest was bland and pinching his back. He felt unbearably cramped and was nearly freaking out. What have I gotten into!? “You listen American! For your life you listen!” The needle darted closer and stroked his exposed neck. “You do as I say, you do it when I tell you to do it, you say nothing but yes, no, and toilet. Am I understood!?” Once the hand moved away he went full boot on the voice.
“Johnathan Reeves, Private, United States Army, 4-4-6-”
“No!” He was slapped good and firm across the face, he felt indentures and crevices in the hand. “You dumb fuck! Yes, no, or toilet, UNDERSTOOD?”
“TOILET!” She slapped him again trying her best not to giggle but some peeped out.
“Listen here you little worm, I don’t need much effort or thought to kill you, I don’t need you, but if you cooperate you will see your family again, your land again, your freedom again. I guarantee it with my pride, honor, and Russian motherland. ONLY if you cooperate! Am I understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” She went to slap him again but eased off.
“Very well.”
“Why should I help you?” She went to hit him but stopped and thought, if she didn’t give him some purpose he’d refuse to comply, he needed something to strive for.
“We have the same, goals, er, private. We both want to go home.”
“How do I play into this?” She was growing frustrated with him.
“Because I need an American.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t stop asking qusetions I will beat you!”
“I’ll take it until I die, then, fuck you!” She was growing enraged at him, even as a prisonor, her pet, he still had some authority over her and it infurriated her. “Tell me a plan and I’ll do whatever you want.” She vented a heavy breath through her vents.
“Fine.” She barked. “I plan on getting back to Russia by breaking out of here, but in order to do so, I need a diversion. Before you panic you should survive the diversion. You create the diversion, we slip away, and you help navigate me through the area to your base. From we part. That is all you need.”
“Well it sounds nice,” he started, “but one thing, YOU BLEW UP MY LEGS YOU BITCH!” She really hit him hard for that one, drew quite an amount of blood, too.
“YOU don’t think I haven’t noticed your wounds!? You weak, flimsy, bag of worthless flesh, oh! Oh how disgusting your kind is! I’m disgusted with you bags of meat.” The way she referred to him as meat, flesh, really made him fear for his sake, his trust was on the fence but the promise of home, no matter how timid, drove him to agree. “I’ve already tended to most of your wounds wholly, soon I will have a splint and brace for your legs, you will not move them without my assistance otherwise. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am. You have my full compliance.”
“Good, good.” She smiled for once, she smiled for the first time in years. “Very, very good.” There was a long sullen pause before she mentioned something, it was about canned food she had been given by the terrorists, she fed him and suddenly piped something up. “About that toilet request..,”

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Hansel and Marion Ch 51

I’m back! And boy has it been a long time since I’ve done HaM, and here they are, life in America!

Enjoy!

The New World

Ch 51
Marion quickly confronted the Swiss cheese Tiger and learned of how he was related to Adler, and why he looked like Swiss cheese. They talked briefly before Kramia came up with her newborn, Igor, the sweetest little thing as Kramia called him. Igor looked like a Panther hull squashed to the height of a T-34 hull, he had his father’s suspension and his mother’s drive train, Igor had what looked like an elongated Panther turret with a long smooth gun with no muzzle assembly, like his mother’s 85, and he really was the sweetest and friendliest thing with bright blue eyes. Marion didn’t even notice that Kramia had her 85 back on because she was so wrapped up in Igor, but Kramia had changed her guns out, and Mini made a wall mount for the gun which was proudly displayed in the main room of their warehouse. Devestaor and Kramia did their best to update Marion and Hansel on the times missed, none of the couples have broken, which was good to hear, and Kitty was rumored to have a special someone in mind. The Porcshe tanks were heard to be planning a child, Fritz and Jager turned out to be expecting and Edwards had found work at the nearby train station as a engine mechanic. Fritz and Jager had tricked him into a trap and had forcibly changed him to the humorph, he was on the fence about it but leaned away from it because he was thinking of marrying humans, but Fritz and Jager were strongly “recommending” transformation. Kramia also mentioned how Whacker and the IS, Shellproof, had also become a couple. Marion went off to find Cindy and she did, Marion was amazed at how big she had grown, Cindy was almost as big as her parents, so close she had standard Sherman tracks, they were a little loose but they worked. Cindy was very enthralled to see Marion again and flung herself at Marion, embracing Marion like she did her own parents. Hansel and Marion went all around trying to catch up with everyone, and meet all the new little ones like Rosa’s and Joshua’s little bundle. They had a baby boy named Zachery, and that led on to a surprise to all from Chuck and Katelyn were expecting, just out of the blue they came out and said Katelyn has been pregnant for almost three weeks.
It was at this time Hansel counted his blessings, his overabundance of blessings. He survived a direct hit from a tank, survived recovery, met the love of his life and his guardian angel, he’s carried his brothers to safety, he thought of all the things he’s done that would be seen as traitorous: help an enemy vehicle, spare the enemy, cooperate with them, and eventually join them. At the time he didn’t think much of it, more going along with what Marion would want, but if he was ever caught by command of that, he might not be alive today. The eufora swept over him, just how well everything went for him. In the world’s darkest moments he shone bright, and fortune favored him. Dear God, He thought, What have I done to deserve this? How can I repay this?
Soon after that day Hansel started looking for work. He put in many applications but with what little English he could write it was difficult and made even worse with having no references. He had no background in America, his whole time in the army was classified, all of his work were German companies and the only thing he’d be able to prove was being a mechanic; he didn’t trust his crop dusting flight time because of how long ago he did that. He thought about trying to be a salesman but with his German accent, who’d buy from the loser? The ex-nazi? Marion tried to comfort him and keep his spirirts up and after a few weeks she didn’t have to try so hard, he got a job offer.
Roberson was glad to get Hansel into work, it turned out that he’d been going through applications at the store his father had just opened and noticed a Hansel, he only knew one guy named Hansel and went through it. Roberson noticed the obvious German-esque spelling errors and called to make sure it was who he thought it was. Roberson confirmed it was Hansel Walter and pressured his father to override the reject stamp and hire Hansel, so it was done. Roberson personally shook Hansel’s hand and when thanked he replied: “No Walter, thank you! I served in the third army, you and your Tiger personally saved my life, this is the least I could do to repay you. How are you guys? How’s she doing? She’s, she’s still around, right?” Hansel hush-hushed him because it was classified, but assured him she was well, that they all are well.
“Also,” Hansel added, “I’m going to marry her as soon as I can afford the ring.” Roberson was surprised.
“Wow, congradulations! Honestly thought you already did marry her.” Hansel quickly picked up on his new line of work working in a grocery store, the work load wasn’t extreme but it was a heavy load. He stocked shelves and unloaded trucks, Roberson knew Hansel was a leader and was setting him up to be in management at some point, so with Hansel’s hard work and dedication mixed with support from higer ups he made progress at a welcome rate. He made some raises and moved positions in under two years.
Marion, because she’s technically classified, spent her days at home. Of her boredom and desire to do something she asked Hansel to bring home some plant seeds he talked about, and she became quite a gardener, she also kept up with her little hobby of crafting objects out of wood. She had made numerous things like the cooking utensils she used, a coat hanger, a little cabinet, a beautiful sculpture of a fox, and of a little name plaque for Hansel. She’d also try cooking a lot, and spent a lot of her time cooking and trying different concoctions of foods, some she liked, others she didn’t, and as Hansel would find out and quickly agree, she had become very good at cooking. He loved her cooking, he dreamed of it sometimes, he’d compliment her on almost everything, almost. He wasn’t afraid to say that it wasn’t good, and Marion was never upset by that, that’s what groomed her into such a good cook. Every morning they’d greet each other, eat breakfast together and talk about their plans, then Hansel would kiss her goodbye, wish each other a good day, and he’d go to work. Typical family life of the 40’s, except they didn’t have kids to pat off to school, Marion wanted kids, but had gotten a fix from raising and caring for Cindy so her desire wasn’t pressing, just a want. She knew how expensive kids would be, and how insecure Hansel feels at the moment financially, he wasn’t well off but they knew they weren’t suffering. Hansel just wanted to have money saved up for when that time came.
They never fought or really argue, they’d disagree over petty things like what furniture would fit the scene or how the new bushes should look, sometimes they’d never agree but mostly they would be swayed to the other’s view. Mostly for the better but they never were stubborn, if it was a bad decision they fixed it. They were very flexible in other words, and in those first two years they had made the place very homey and they were quite happy and proud of what they’d done together. They were constantly busy with something and never had any sex, they relieved thier stresses in other ways, hobbies and such, and if the desire persisted they’d relieve themselves so the other wasn’t disturbed in thier work. But every evening when Hansel got home he asked her about her day, she’d tell him a quick summary and then she’d ask him about his, he’d run down his schedule, and ask about certain parts of hers, she’d elaborate and ask about some of his which he’d explain. Then they ate dinner together, talking about their plans for tomorrow, and the weekend or the holiday. They’d play some games and listen to the radio, elaborate on something that happened or their plans, and then they’d tidy up, Hansel would wash up-Marion was washed by Hansel about every Saturday, and they’d turn in for the night, wrapped up in their arms and tucked in for the night.
——————————————————————————————————
Hansel set his car into park and turned off the engine. The Florida rain was coming down hard, like it always did in summer, and he didn’t feel like getting out of the car. He was home late, real late, and it was because of a lot, but he’d only say work kept him that late. Truth was that work did go late and was very hard, the electric lift was busted so the whole truck had to be unloaded by hand by just himself and some highschool kid. Next he went over to the jewelry store and got the rings that he’d been looking at, that took a lot longer than he expected, and since the end of the war Florida had started populating more so there was road work to make the roads safer, safer not safe, and that held him up even longer. So his expected plan to be out of the store and home by seven was completely blow out of the water as his watch read 10:22 pm. He nearly hit a deer, too, scared him shitless like he had been shot again. He sluggishly looked to the passenger side and made sure his items were all together, the rings buried on the bottom of the paper bag and stacked on top were some groceries Marion wanted, a handful of watermelon seeds he finally remembered to collect, a whole chicken body, some small art supplies that his store had, and some pens. He sighed deeply and tucked the things under his coat and made a break for the porch through the pouring rain. He got to the porch with only stepping in one mud puddle, usually it’s about three. He kicked and stomped his shoes around to get as much mud off, then bent his aching back over to pick out the mud in the laces. He reached into the bottom of the bag and plucked the rings out and put them into his back pocket of his pants before he entered the house portion of the home. He took off his coat and shook it off and placed it neatly onto the coat rack Marion made, he kicked off his shoes and kicked them into the corner; he’d clean them off later, and walked through the hallway, through the house kitchen and dining room into the main room. The main room they called the living room was where the vast open space was for Marion, and if you walked in like Hansel had and turned around it would look like the whole wall of the house had fallen down and exposed the innards. The two floors reminds them of the “old western” movie bars with the staircase leading up to a balcony leading to the rooms on the second floor. There were three bedrooms on the second floor and one full bathroom, the first floor had a lounge, office, kitchen, dining room, laundry room, and an additional bedroom with a full and half bathroom. The whole hangar had been divided by Marion into five areas, her kitchen, laundry wall, living room, maintenance area, and bedroom. Hansel and her had only erected basic frames for the walls and hadn’t done anything more with it yet, because Marion wanted to adjust the size of the bedroom to make it smaller, more like the barn they first ‘met’ each other. Marion was also thinking about dividing more space for rooms like a guest room, two bedrooms, and maybe some more kitchen room for storage. Hansel supported her ideas, and would like so expand into the house so she could use some of that space, too, but she liked the way it looked. “Oh, Hansel, where were you I’ve been worried sick!” He groaned.
“I’ve been at work, we got an extra shipment and the lift was busted. It was Carter and myself. How’re you doing, dear?”
“Oh that sounds like it was rough, I’m fine, just the little cat-things came by and gave me a headache, they really like our potatoes.”
“I bet, they’ve been digging at them for weeks.” He sat down at a cushion chair against the wall and let out a relaxing sigh. Marion rolled over to him and massaged his shoulder.
“Supper’s cold by now, want me to heat it up for you?” He rubbed his face and looked up to her, meeting her gaze with his, her gaze had never changed. That was the exact same lovely and beautiful gaze she gave him the night he met her.
“Ah, no, no, it’s fine, babe, I’ll eat it cold. Thank you, thanks for supper.” He wretched himself out of the comfy chair and hobbled over to the stove she cooked on. Inside the pot was warm stew of carrots, beef, peas and potateos with a hint of seasoning that she loved making, and Hansel loved eating. “Oh this smells great, Marion! I love you.” He made himself a bowl and grabbed another, “Would you want some, dear?”
“No, I’ll save it for tomorrow. You can take some for lunch if you’d like.”
“Oh yes please,” he scooped up some stew and hurriedly ate some, “I swear you get better and betteer, babe.”
“Oh stop, you just get hungrier I don’t get better.” He sat down at the table and gulped down another spoonful.
“I disagree, you get better.” He quickly devoured the bowl and thanked her again for the meal. She was going through the bag he brought home.
“Oh yes! You remembered the seeds!” She smiled and examined them, little black and tan tear drop seeds in a jar made her so happy, and that made Hansel happy. As she sifted through the seeds with her mechanical hand Hansel felt his back pocket, the rings were there. It made him smile more. Once she’s done, he thought, then it happens. “Hansel, do you know if there is any yellow paint or dye at the store? I want to make a sculpture of the long leg birds that walk the yard.”
“I’ll have to check for it, don’t know off the top of my head.” He watched her go through the bags and sort the items out on the table and once she turned to put something away he proped himself up, pulled the ring box out of his pocket and stepped away from the table. “Marion?”
“Yes, Hansel?” She turned her gaze and saw the little box. Hansel slowly and painfully got down on one knee and opened the box, Marion gasped and droped the jar of seeds.
“Marion would you marry me?” He smiled pleadingly, Marion’s hands clasped her mouth as she teared up, and visibly shook.
“Yes! Yes! Yes Hansel I’ll marry you!” Tears streamed down her face and she pulled him up to kiss her. Her turret was off over her right side so when they kissed Hansel could hold her chin as they locked together for one of thier longest kisses. Her arms wrapped around all of him, through his shirt and in his socks, through his hair and into his hands, it felt like the end of the war but better! Hansel, too, teared up and cried with her. Once they broke apart she laid him out and held him aginst her side where he fought not to fall asleep.
“I love you Marion, with all my-*yawn*-heart, I’ll be by you through good and bad, thick and thin, joy and pain. Just as you have been there for me I’ll be there for you, till death do us part and again when I find you in heaven.” Marion had no idea what to say, ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough, she had no words for this emotion, it vastly outmatched any dialogue she had prepared, she was truly swamped with emotion. Even though he wasn’t going to enjoy it, it’ll be painful, and she didn’t want to do it, they had planned that if he ever married her she’d convert him to a humorph. He knew as well, he knew how much it was going to hurt-indescribable pain and misery, literal life-changing and body fusing torture. But in the end both knew it had to be done and the benefits outweighed any physical feeling they had. So Marion asked him;
“Hansel, are you sure you want to do this?” She opened one of her tendrils to reveal the long and thick probe, the base a series of coils and hoses, and the point fine and pricky. She felt a little sick herself looking at it, she’d never been penetrated by anything-just Hansel- and being armored and mentaly built so nothing would penetrate her, it felt wrong and sickening to think about the whole concept of injection.
“I’m not sure, babe, but this is the plan. I’m going to marry you no matter what, might as well stick around.” He looked into her uncertainty, her eyes beading still from crying. “Do it.” With that she put some cloth between his teeth and lined up the injectors, tears bubbled at her eyes and blurred her vision but it was too late, they were lined up and ready. She clentched her eyes shut and pressed into him.
The actual penetration wasn’t bad for Hansel. Her body was warm and the needles seemed to fade away in his body unlike normal shots, the metal wasn’t icy cold and instead he was left with the aching and pinching feeling at the skin and like there was a knot in his muscles. He thought to himself This isn’t too bad when she hit him with it. Suddenly an intense burning sensation filled the points from the inside out, and rapid and sudden muscle contractions twitched and pulled all around his body, he felt loss of any control and then the real pain hit. He felt like he was dying, like he was being filled like a balloon, the fiery feeling turned into a black and gnawing beast slowly crossing into the mortal realm, hell itself was using Hansel as a portal. Hansel screamed and cried out, all he could somewhat control, but the rest of him was thrashing about, his head slammed against her armor and he felt not pain but relief when that happened. It soon felt like his very flesh was being ripped off his bone, bare bone suddenly had nerves and they cried and bled out in pain and misery. His guts began thrashing as if they were a separate entity, Hansel wasn’t very religious but he swore for the rest of his life that at that moment the very beings of God and Satan were fighting inside of him, immortals were ravaging his body and slowly it felt like he was losing. Marion was trying her best to keep him from hurting himself with restrictions and soothing voices to help but his muffled screams would drown her out for anyone nearby. Hansel felt like murder, felt like his organs were ripping and tearing and popping slowly, oh so slowly! His eyes blacked out but he could still see but it wasn’t the roof or Marion like before, no, now it was him, he saw himself dying. His heart suddenly stopped beating and he felt it but still the bleeding sensation lived on. It came back again with a vengeance and felt like it was exploding out of his chest, his ribcage was cracking and healing all at once, his brain shrinking and expanding at once, his lungs collapsing and breathing like never before. His screams worrying Marion even more. She was crying, full on crying. In her mind she vowed she’d never do this again, never.
By the time it was completed Marion was sobbing, she had drenched Hansel in his sweat and her tears. She pulled the injectors out and pressed him against her turret cheek with his blank face looking at her eye. She kept crying and chanting how sorry she was, pleading for him to come to, to come back. She was praying to the God she never learned to give him back. His hair was full and smooth as she stroked through it, his muscles tight and taught, his body warm and convulsing, his limbs twitched and squirmed. She thought she killed him, she couldn’t get an answer from him, she couldn’t feel a beat through his soaked clothes, and it had been ten minutes since she stopped. She blamed herself, he wasn’t ready or she didn’t do it right, she killed him and it was all her doing. She killed her love, killed him in the most brutal and aganizing death possible. She’d never forgive herseld for it, how she was going to carry on she didn’t know and didn’t expect to. She wanted to die, to join him in death, she couldn’t go on without him. It was unfeasable for her.
No this isn’t no fucking Romeo and Juliet shit calm down.
Hansel puked his guts out and gasped for air. His eyes shot open and he looked around confused, panicking, and frightened. He fixed his gaze on Marion as she sat there breathtaken. She did’t notice his vomit all over her body, she didn’t notice the thunderous storm that had turned into a hurricane, she didn’t notice the time passing. She noticed one thing and one thing only. She noticed Hansel. She admired every detail his body had to offer, from the size of his toes to how many eyelashes he had. They sat and stared in silence. Hansel was sweating profusely and was breathing heavily, he didn’t feel too different and was wondering how he looked. Marion just wouldn’t stop staring at him, he decided to say something. “You alright, Marion?”
“Yes I’m fine. Baby, are you alright?” Hansel self checked himself, he was exhausted and his stomach was empty, but he craved things other than food like a fuel of a sorts, and of course Marion’s cooking always sounded good.
“I-uh, I’m starving honey, I could eat something.” Marion was warned about this by F2, Hansel’s gonna want something only she can make, not by hand but by body. She messed with him a bit.
“Like, like what? Describe it.”
“Uh, something kind of liquid, goes down easy.”
“Yeah? So like a soup or stew?”
“No, no not a stew or soup, not even a chowder. I, I want something creamy, no chunks at all, please.”
“So I could put the stew in the blender, sound good?”
“No. Damn, I must be such a pain right now but I don’t know what it is, it’s fatty and creamy, no chunks, nothing blended that leaves scraps around and I want it.., I want it uniform. I want it warm, too, I think it’s-”
“Milk, you want breast milk.” Hansel blushed red, Marion giggled a little bit. “I know what you want, you want breast milk.” Hansel started denying it. “Hansel you described it almost to the letter, I know what you want because Zwei told me, it’s my tit milk!” Hansel continued to deny it even though his mouth watered and his stomach churned for it. “Hansel, just admit it, you’ll feel better I promise, sweetie.” He swallowed his pride, it didn’t help his hunger as he wished, and he admitted it.
“Milk sounds really good, honey.” She giggled and sat him on the other side of the turret on her deck. Her towing eye opened and out came the feeding hose. It went up her glacsis and into Hansel’s lap. He picked it up with hungry eyes and a salivated mouth and put it to his lips. He sucked gently at first on the nipple and when it fed to him rich, warm, creamy, milk he started to suck on it more. He slipped into a more reclined position and drank and drank and drank. He drank his fill and then when he was done he rolled over to sleep. “Marion,”
“Yes dear? More milk?”
“No, but thank you, tell everyone we’re getting married, and try on the ring, too.”
“Oh Hansel, I told you don’t spoil me, I don’t want these luxeries. This extra glitter, it’s not my style. It’s not me.” She picked up the ring box and looked at the ring, it had a gold band with a diamond in the middle and two littler ones beside it. “The ring is gorgeous, dear, I think it’s amazing, but I don’t think I’d wear it.” She wrapped her arms up around him and stripped him of the wet clothes and wrapped him into a blanket cocoon. That reminded Hansel he threw up on her and he motioned to clean it up. “No, no, it’s already eleven, you have work tomorrow. I’ll clean it, you rest. You need it more than me.”
“I love you, Marion.”
“I love you, Hansel.”
He performed normally at work, told Roberson that he did it, finally proposed to Marion and got a yes. Other than Roberson Hansel was just another guy at work, didn’t talk to another person about personal life. Marion didn’t really want to tell everyone that Hansel proposed because she felt like that’d be bragging about it, she just didn’t feel right doing that so she kept it to herself until the weekend when they made their monthly trip up to the base for check ups and meetings. There she told everyone Hansel proposed and that they were getting married, and she brought the ring along to show it was real. It seemed Marion wasn’t alone in feeling iffy about the ring, nearly all the female tanks didn’t want a ring, Kitty said she’d like a ring but not to wear, she wanted one to call her own in her collection of jewelry and bling she had as a collection. Hetz was the only one who said she’d wear a ring and would want too wear it. But they all did want to show their marriage off, but how? They were all sitting around when they overheard Hansel and Whacker joking around.
“So you can come down and work on the wiring when the time comes, Whacker?’
“Yeah, Sell I can do it. I’ll just give Shell a heads up about it and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She might even come down with me.”
“So she had you on a leash, then, eh?”
“What?”
“No more chasing the ladies around? No more bachelor for you?”
“Oh yeah, she killed this bachelor, gonna put a big old kill mark on her gun for that impressive kill.” They continued on with the idea laughing. Marion didn’t think that was a bad idea. She admired her kill marks that were painted out, the thin stripes were killing allied armor and soft skins and the thick ones were killing axis armor. The SS tank was a really thick black stripe with the white lightning bolts on either side. It was her most proud kill. She imagined that gold ring around her barrel and thought of how nice it would look, like she was an ace tank, fighters painting their noses yellow being an ace and her, her kill stripe was yellow for the ace kill: a husband. “Yeup, a big ole fat guy’s gonna be on her gun when we marry. The very paint itself will reek of beer and sausage.” When Marion and Hansel went home that night she talked to him about it.
“Hansel, honey, would you put another mark on my gun?” He knew what it was.
“You heard Whacker and I joking?”
“I did, but it’s not a bad idea, baby. I’d proudly wear it, I want it, Hansel. I think it fits perfectly.” He wasn’t against it at all.
“Marion, most rings have some sort of phrase or pattern on them, would you want that on your band?” She opened her mouth to say something, looking at her gun, but nothing came out at first.
“Anything on the ring you got?” There wasn’t. “Okay, uh, no then. But it’s paint, we could do something with it later.”
“Alright, when do you want me to put it on.” This was her dilemma, she wanted it then, right there, but they weren’t married yet, she wanted to display it but not lie about it. She described her dilemma to Hansel and he came up with a solution she saw fit He’d paint two very thin and fine gold lines with a gap in between them, they agreed that on their marriage day, maybe at the ceremony, the gap would be filled and they would be properly married.
Not too long after Hansel put the engagement stripes on her they were married at the church on the base. Their only family was there, the tanks and family they made in the war. It wasn’t s typical wedding mainly because there aren’t tanks in attendance, so the level of serious wasn’t as high as other weddings. There was a little joking, Marion wasn’t in a gown but Cindy mad her a little tiara to wear on her cupola and she slipped in the soft dirt a little while driving the aisle, there were no flower girls and no ring bearers, the bride’s maids were ‘lined up’ in a bunch so they could see past each other, the Groom’s men were bunched up in the same fashion as well. There were few tux’s worn, most just wore their dress uniform who had a uniform, few ladies were there that could fit into a dress to begin with but those who could wore fine dresses in the middle of the field and cared little how dirty they got. Hansel chose Whacker as his First man, and had Mini, Chuck, Joshua, Inbred, and Fritz as the Groom’s men, he would have had Banker in the line up as well but he signed up to stay with Betty, his Pershing lover, and they were in some base in at state called Kentucky. Marion’s bride’s maids were Jager, Hetz, F2, Kramia, Rosa, and her sister Porscha. It started out a beautiful Sunday morning and by the time the celebration ended it was pouring down rain. They didn’t mind and had an after party well into the night, at around one in the morning everybody had dispersed. Marion had a good bit to drink but being how big she is it was almost ineffective to her, Hansel had a little to drink, too, but was just as buzzed as Marion. They got home at around three in the morning, Marion was all covered in mud and cake, just a smear of cake streaking down her upper glacsis and Hansel had a champagne stain on his jacket and was certain he lost his bow tie, Marion had grabbed it off his chair so it wasn’t lost. Once the door slammed shut they locked into another kiss, the taste of Red Apple Cider, Marion’s choice, and the bland Champagne, Hansel’s drink because no one fought for the bottle, still lingered on their tongues and aired in their mouths. As they drew away they went for another kiss and mixed the tastes more, and again and again until they had kissed the taste of their drinks away.
“Ready to start the honeymoon, my wife?”
“Let’s start it up, my husband!”
Fin Ch 51

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (he gon get it) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

Also I worked my ass off and finally got Marion on War Tinder (War Thunder but it’s us we’re talking about), and while I haven’t actually made a skin for her this is what I scrounged up to represent her, the gold band on the barrel in the Hansel Hubby Kill. But she calls it either the Hubby Stripe or Hansel Stripe.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , , ,

The Lost Olympian

So it’s been quite a while since I’ve done anything, I’m sorry about it I’ve just been going through a lot, a lot of change in my life. Nonetheless I’ve always kept my stories in mind and I’ve got a big one for y’all! The next insert in Titanic’s story, The Lost Olympian. I hope to get back into this like before, but I’m just real busy right now, and for a good long time, too. But I’ll do what I can, when I can. But without further delay,

Enjoy.

The lost Olympian
Prinz Eugen loaded her eight massive 203 mm naval guns and conversed with Patelo and an explosive excavation specialist about where to plant the shots. Titanic impatiently waited about a kilometer behind watching. Ever since they entered Norwegian waters she’s been watching Eugen blast ice wall after ice wall, blast iceberg after iceberg. The current would push the dislodged ice chunks further north, out of their way in into colder waters, and that would keep the eco-heads happy. Now the machines certainly aren’t eco-heads but they really don’t like all the fuel consumption going on, either. Nonetheless this and Olympic were what was plaguing her mind; keeping a clean Earth and meeting her sister again. Suddenly out of the boredom a large and intimidating roar flooded the air and echoed down the icy chasm as Eugen released the third barrage onto the ice shelf. With the rather spot on accuracy the massive wall crumbled and plummeted down to the ocean. Massive splashes and waves rushed out towards them. Titanic braced and winced as the stinging water smacked her hull and carried her up and over.
“Damn that’s cold!” And she’s still used to being in waters about 3° C. Once the waves settled and the ice moved away they got a sonar report.
“All clear Titanic, we’re moving in.” Titanic found Bradley, stopped him from what he was doing, and gripped him tight and held him firm. Titanic fought to put absolutely everything she had into her engines and propellers but the crew fought back. Even though she had new engines, enough boats for her small crew, a stronger hull with topped off watertight compartments and nearly all veteran crew, the thought of history repeating still cast its shadow over them all. They took their sweet time and careful caution. They watched for outcropping the sonar missed, they checked to make sure that there was no overhang to hit the masts or funnels, and there was none. The walls were suspiciously ridged and even, the path wide and constant, the massive turn they were making was constant. They had the rudders about a fifth over to port and were traveling at 10 knots. It was eerie quiet, scary perfect, and uncomfortably calm. After some time Prinz Eugen entered a fairly large delta-like harbor and was aghast, Titanic eagerly turned the corner and saw her sitting across the bay staring at Titanic with a complete dumbfounded look of bewilderment.
“Olympic!” Bradley got her reaction all on camera.
“Am I dead, then?” Prinz Eugen was still aghast, not because she existed, but because of what she was covered in. Titanic didn’t notice or even know it’s relevance.
“No! No! They raised me! He raised me!” She nudged towards Bradley as he turned to film Olympic’s reaction. Olympic was very, very confused. Titanic began explaining what had happened, like being found, some looting, so much fascination with her and eventually got to her being raised. While she was doing that Bradley turned to Eugen, who looked back, both of them shocked. Titanic blissfully was unaware of any details and it’s no surprise why, nobody ever told her about the Nazis. Bradley brought it up with Titanic, asking her what’s all over Olympic. “Well, I don’t know.” She finally looked at the draped banners and painted emblems. “Olympic, what’s all over you? What is that?” It seemed she had no idea what Titanic was talking about. Then it suddenly hit her.
“Oh these flags? Well after I retired and moved here the Germans showed up in.., 42? Maybe? I think that’s what year they said it was. Anyways they asked if they could use me as a base of operations and in return they’d maintain me and service me. I agreed, I had grown quite lonely by then, and thus they brought up all their flags and draped then from the promenade deck and painted their.., their.., shvashteka on my decks. They built this dry dock for me, they carved out a channel for their boats-they had massive submarines! Nothing like the ones from the Great War! Oh these were much bigger, and they had many officers come aboard, many sailors and soldiers alike, they set up a lab, tested me, they even recommended updating my engines and electricals. But they never did that.”
“What all do you know? What else was going on?”
“Well the radio reception in here is absolutely terrible, so that’s why they built a tower up there on the shelf, and wired in some hard lines to my radio room. They kept a tight guard on it and never told me anything. They told me what they were doing here, of course, but not much else. When they left all they took are their boats, the radios, and weapons. They left everything else, including a bunch of documents but I can’t read German.” Eugen was interested. “Every now and then I’ll get some Norwegian radio but I don’t know Norwegian, but their music is nice.” Bradley was trying to start breaking WW2 to her but Eugen completely took over describing Hitler’s rise to power, the hate, the Jewish prosecution, the invasions, the fact that Britain and Germany warred against each other, and she kept going. She explained what Hitler and his staff did with the Jews, gays, crippled, gypsies, and other inferior beings. She described important details with accuracy and blunt truth, the blood of the nation being slowly ringed out and the horrors that ensued with invading a desperate nation. She mentioned almost every atrocity, all she knew at least, and all the consequences. It didn’t take very long for Olympic to turn pale and regret everything, guilt ensued her and enveloped her. She felt sick not just in her bowels but everywhere. She had been a veteran of the first war, one point evacuate the wounded-the mamed and gassed, the shot and starved, and she saw millions of those wounds all on one body, for everybody, as far as the horizon-and she helped that happen. If she had more human like bodily reflexes she’d throw up. Titanic didn’t even know about that, she begged Bradley to tell her more and he said he’d try his best.
Olympic wasn’t very friendly after that, not for a while anyways. She begged that the flags be ripped off her-her arms couldn’t reach-and her decks cleaned. She was on the brink of crying. They really didn’t have a way of getting to her, the gangways on the dry dock looked rotten and weak and the docks were too high to send the lifeboats, Titanic’s crew could split up and man Titanic as a skeleton crew with the majority of crew going to Olympic, but as of then they had no means of getting them to Olympic. Olympic said that tides rose quite high here, and that there’s some sheltered wood in a house at the back of the dry dock, when asked about provisions she said it probably all went bad decades ago. So they gathered up food, water, tools, rope, anything else they’d need, stocked up the boats, and got them ready to be lowered. After that they waited. In this time they asked Olympic about things all around the harbor.
“Well, there’s an ammo Depot in that big octagon bunker there, and there’s the main office-that small shack there, I was to be the quarters and office for all here and any who sailed here. That was where I was tethered to right there, that pier next to the Hipper class. Let’s see, there was a U-boat frame they had floating out there but they scuttled that little thing when they left. There are some quite nasty aircraft guns on me, and there were some over by the depot but those were taken. I’m pretty sure I still have some ammo on me. Uh, let’s see, there was a crane they used but that fell over in a nasty storm. Oh and they also had special hot suits to clean my belly with-oh that was very nice!”
“Then why was there a dry dock?”
“Oh this wasn’t for me at all. It was for one of their super dreadnoughts, I think her name was for Admiral Tirpitz. They told me the poor thing got stuck further south and couldn’t get here. They also said it was much nicer. I knew I should have gone farther south. I was so stupid.” That only created more questions.
“Olympic, you could go farther south?” Titanic asked.
“Yes, after you sank and after the Great War White Star Line fell apart and was bought out by Cunard. Most of the white stars were broken up because of how old they were. But because of my service and what I am-alive-they offered me retirement. I took it. They let me choose where I could go and at the time I was very very upset with people. So I hastily chose isolation and temperatures hostile to people. I came here. After a long while I hated myself for choosing this, as you surely know I went mad all alone. I guess they, Cunard, wrote me off as being broken up.” It was quiet. “It was that madness and loneliness that made me accept the.., the Nazis.., so fast and open.” It was very obvious she was guilty and remorseful. By this time the tide had risen high enough to reach the piers and the parties were launched. Everyone watched eagerly as they rowed across the bay and came alongside the pier, mooring the comparably tiny boats to the pier and climbing over onto the top.
They explored around and did find usable wood, rope, tools, and other gear. After scrounging through the base they assessed the gangways and brows, some were rotted but there were some metal ones that were perfectly fine. They swiftly made their way aboard bringing most of the wood and tools, checking all the lockers, compartments, valves, electrics, and vital systems of Olympic. The climate, hull integrity, and superb building skills kept everything practically brand new. A true testament to time. Olympic was still a oil-fired steam engine ship, and only having a skeleton crew meant that manning an engine system of that size and complexity was nearly impossible-not including the crew for the bridge. They had a plan for this, however, only one boiler would be fired and the steam would be directed to one engine only. The most senior ad experienced navigators and helmsmen were sent aboard Olympic because of this plan. Once the plan had begun it all went to the trash. As it turned out one of Olympic’s post-Titanic refits included arms that could operate her boilers without a crew, so more effort was focused at the engine and rudder engine level. While the engines were heating up the deck hand party went around tearing down all the Nazi banners and flags. For the first time in nearly 80 years Olympic’s belly felt hot and ready, her engines felt pumped and strong, and her smokestacks bellowed with warm smoke. Her smile stretched from port to starboard and barred all her comforting teeth, that mood lifted up everyone else’s moods, too.
Her lines were cast off, she was tied to Eugen for a tow out, and they were off before sunrise. Bradley stood on Titanic’s forecastle with his camera watching his lover turn overjoyed and it in turn spilled over into him. Titanic watched her sister’s slick, long hull glide through the water. The water and ice gleamed with her hull and the lights on her hull like a mirror, majestically gliding through the dark between the ice illuminating the whole passage as if it were a city. She made the whole ice sheet glow and dance, the water sparkled and jumped around, and Titanic could not contain her excitement. She shook Bradley and wrapped him tightly in her arms. It was at this moment, when they were about to leave the corridor onto open water, he realized that neither had ever seen or been around each other on the open water. Only being together in ports.
The sun’s rays stretched across the sky, piercing through the clouds and casting an orange glow on the trio and turned the deep blue water to an almost purple sea with big orange spots on the waves. The two Olympic class liners steamed side by side, their long black hulls flying over the blue and the proud white superstructures gleaming in the light, the tall masts reached high into the sky and the smokestacks stood mighty and high. They sailed proudly and Eugen couldn’t help but watch in amazement at their elegance, beauty, and majesty. They were meant to be the most luxurious, most majestic, most beautiful queens of the sea-and that they were. All eyes were on these two ladies, the sunrise astern and the gleaming ice sheet providing a powerful and moving backdrop for these two distinguished ships. Titanic instantly started talking to Olympic as soon as the euphoria wore off.
“Olympic?”
“Yes, Titanic?” Olympic shifted her eyes port to look at Titanic, her eyes were a deep brown and her voice very similar to Titanic’s.
“Why did you choose to isolate yourself? What happened with people that pushed you to do that?” Olympic sighed and did the little ‘ship nod’ that constitutes looking down and moving lips convincingly.
“Alright, I guess it goes back to when I ran into the Hawke cruiser, I felt so bad about that. Next it was you, when you sank we heard your cries, your CDQ CDQ SOS SOS, we heard it all. Then the silence hurt me, then the news crushed me. That hurt me for a long time. There was a man, however, he was sweet and kind, and I fell in love with him. He was a steward on my crew roster, and we had made much progress together. He was there when they put in my eyes and mouth, my arms, and all those sorts. He was the first person I searched for, first person I held, first person I loved. Then the war started and we were separated while I was turned into a troop ship. One day as I’m loading troops I see one soldier smiling up at me and it was him. I was so happy, I instantly plucked him and all his stuff and moved him where I wanted him, I certainly abused my power to keep him there where I wanted. I kept him with me and we loved and loved every night all night. But he wanted to serve the king, he fought me to get off and fight, he did win because I was threatened by the Navy, and he went off to war. That worried me a lot. But as news came back of the war going well, when I sank a U-boat, and when I went to retrieve his battalion I was filled with excitement, I felt like nothing could go wrong. I scanned each and every face I saw, I memorized everything on everybody that looked like my dear Harry. But none of them were him. I learned later he died of a trenchfoot amputation complication. He died after weeks of pain, discomfort, and misery. And the last time I saw him I was upset with him, I was furious with him. And I felt very guilty about that. And it took me oh, thirty years to get past that. I clung to that guilt, the guilt of loosing my sisters, my lover, and my family. When Cunard bought out White Star, I meant. That is what drove me that far.” There was a moment when Titanic was going to say something when Olympic continued, “His name was Harris J. Pettleton. He was from Partridge. He made me think and wonder, how many boys did I send to their deaths? How many did I ferry to the grave?” Titanic sensed she was going back down a dark path and instantly ended that train ride.
“On a different note, New York is beautiful! London is awesome! And Britannic is in New York right now. Sh-”
“They raised her, too!?”
“Yes! She came out looking for you before I did, she scraped the Ice but her hull held and she’s being fixed up right now. She’s still a medical ship and has gone do disaster relief rallies to treat survivors. She and I and you are probably going to be museum ships, I am already, Britannic works as one when not a medical ship, sometimes she’s paid by the Navy to be used as a training platform for their ocean doctors, practicing surgeries at sea in rough or normal conditions.”
“You think I’m going to be a museum ship, Titanic?”
“Well, Bradley here is part of the company board, so he knows more, maybe even what you’re going to be for sure. Bradley? What’s Olympic going to be?” He Thought and leaned against the railing.
“Well,” he began looking over Olympic’s hull at the rust and wear and deficient properties, “with this paint scheme you might actually be used as a cruise ship to bridge the gap in profits.”
“I’ll be a liner again? What flag will I fly?”
“You’ll fly under the British flag and the White Star pennant. BUT if it’s decided to repaint you, it may be the dazzle scheme and you’ll be a museum ship for World War One, merchant marines, and the likes.”
“Well,” she started a little worried, “If you needed profits, why doesn’t Titanic carry passengers, she’s only ever carried for one voyage. Don’t you think she’d want to fulfill her first purpose?” That did effect Titanic, she does have phases where she begs to carry passengers but Bradley and others remind her of how few she can carry. It is a very somber time frame.
“I don’t have enough boats to carry passengers.” Titanic stated then looked to her deck almost in defeat.
“Right,” Olympic responded, looking at her deck, “so how is it? Being a museum?”
“Not to bad,” Titanic replied scowling as she thought about it, “it does get repetitive and at times mundane and boring, but most often the groups are interesting themselves and are a fun bunch, and I do get a lot of time with my dear Bradley, so I say it’s not too bad. I’ll take the worst days of this than any day on the bottom.”
“What was it like? What happened?”
“The bottom? Lonely, absence of everything, and cold. But it wasn’t that cold! The only times I was really excited and what set me back on track to sanity was subs coming to visit. Interaction again, light itself can be felt if it’s gone for too long. At the end was Bradley, he talked to me and helped me the most. As it turned out I fell for him and to top it off he made me a mother.” Olympic was stunned.
“Wow, uh, congratulations! How long have you been a mother?”
“Violet is seven years old, Britannic’s little one, Tobey, is five years old. They’re wonderful little things!”
“Harry and I were talking about children, we weren’t even sure if it would work out. If it was possible. Now I know.”
“How long did you serve, Olympic?” Prinz Eugen asked, coming alongside.
“Oh I served twenty four years as a liner. Almost five years in service of the Navy. I had carried around two-hundred-and-one thousand soldiers to the war, and when I was retired in thirty-four I had made two-hundred and fifty-seven round trips to New York and the United Kingdom, with four-hundred-and-thirty thousand passengers on my rosters. I was close to two million miles traveled. They got their uses out of me for sure.”
“Impressive, quite a career.”
“I’ve been plagued with problems, though. I’ve had the problem of hitting ships left and right, I only meant it once and I got the bastard, but every other time it was an accident. I sank a lightship and killed half of the crew. There is a lot about me, a lot wrong, or twisted. I don’t know why, either.” They broke off the conversation for a while, that night Titanic brought up something in secret to Olympic that she had noticed.
“Olympic, I noticed you’re very active, do you need someone?” Olympic was shocked.
“Is it that obvious?”
“No, but we’re sisters, we know each other. Trust me, we feel each other.”
“Yes, I am a little lonely.”
“A little?”
“Okay, I’m really lonely. I haven’t been touched since 1915, that’s over a hundred years ago! I need to get stuffed, I can’t stand it!” Titanic giggled a little bit, she knew the feeling, it’s why she talked dirty with Bradley the whole way up. “Are there any.., bachelors on board? Anyone that might help me out?” Titanic laughed aloud.
“There is one person I know who’d love to help you out. He’s going to be at port, Olympic. All you’re going to have to do is talk to him a little bit, then get sexual.” The potential prospect made Olympic wet and grow very excited. “He’s not that bad looking either.” That made Olympic reached for herself and make sure she’d be.., ready to go when they meet. That stayed on her mind the whole journey there, pricked deep, long, with a rod of steel, she thought on it so long she was leaking onto the forecastle deck. She refused to please herself so he’d be even more fun for her, dirty, naughty, sexy fun!

During the days Prinz Eugen, Titanic, and Olympic would share sea stories and share sea stories of some of their crew members. Olympic certianly had the the most to share so that kept them all busy while they were sailing down to Liverpool. When they arrived at Liverpool there was much that had changed for Olympic, she marveled at how busy it was, how modern it had become. She was marveled at herself, everyone had believed that she, the queen of Liverpool, was broken up long ago, but now she sails through the narrows once more and it seemed that everything stopped. It was the exact same when Titanic sailed in after her refloat, like time stood still for all but them. Olympic felt a blast from her glory days back when she was the ship, the ship everyone adored, the ship everyone wanted to sail on. She saw her old slipway and noticed her tugs and tenders were guiding her there, she became very excited and overjoyed to be home again. She was delicately nudged into the slip and aligned with the chalks under her belly and sealed off. The water was drained and she rested on the chalks set up just for her and her small crew was departed and inspectors were launched aboard.
There was lots of rust under and at her waterline, her stabilizing fins were in danger of falling off and her rudder in danger of failing to traverse. Her propellers made of bronze were clean and functional but the fittings for them looked sketchy. The pump ports were also noteworthy as was her keel-line. The Germans had done a superb job of making Olympic seaworthy again but that was way back in 1942-43, it had done it’s job and wore off. Paint below the waterline was no longer red but a pink-grey. Inspections of her electrical systems were problematic for most areas but the vitals ad most of the officer cabins were fully functional and up to the 1940’s standard. The firemain pumps and dewatering pumps were all stopped up and filled with algae and other water life. If there was a leak in Olympic there would be no way to stop it, and if the fuel pumps and tanks weren’t in good condition and started a fire there would be no saving her. Integrity was outstanding, the cold preserved much of anything aboard but the food spoiled regardless and some added deck fixtures had rotted. Overall she was in remarkable condition, in great shape and if you asked her, healthy and ready for some great sex. Titanic was pulled alongside the slip and moored where Britannic had been a few days ago. She was out for trials making sure the repairs were satisfactory. Olympic really wanted to see her, wanted to meet Violet and Tobey, her niece and nephew, she wanted to meet Harold and shake hands with Bradley. She also wanted to meet Patelo but he was gone in a flash, he said his goodbye over the radio and poof, gone into the city before he could be thanked. “I wanted to thank him for finding me.”
“Well, he didn’t find you.” Titanic said.
“Who did? Bradley?”
“No.”
“Britannic? Harold?”
“Neither of them.”
“Then who?” Titanic assured her that she’ll meet them very soon, but in the meantime she’d be meeting the man Titanic promised her. Olympic tried to clean up as much as she could, she snagged some cleaning gear from her lockers and cleaned her port and made sure a man would love to play with her toys. Titanic’s love ports are all in her superstructure, while Britannic was built with her fantail port, one on her hull, and she also had one on her forecastle deck, just ahead of her cargo shoot, and was upgraded with more in her superstructure. Olympic had her fantail fun port and her forecastle fun port. She wanted to watch herself get drilled, she wanted to see herself getting fucked, so she made sure the forecastle port was clean, soaked, tight and soft. She cleaned to her satisfaction and proceeded to pester Titanic about him. Titanic continuously reasured her that he’d be coming. And sometime that evening Titanic introduced him to her.
“Olympic, I want you to meet a close friend of mine and Bradley’s. This is Perry Johnson, from Hampton.”

Fin

Yeah, yeah, it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything, much longer something naughty, but don’t worry it’s on the way!

April 15th, 1912 +105

“Hey Bradley, it’s that time of the year again.” A crewman mentioned to him while they stood on the dock. It was almost 11:30 pm, April 14th. “How’s she doing?” Bradley sighed and glanced over to her, she was staring out into nothingness, unable to see anything and generally unresponsive.
“She gets like this every so often. I tell her ‘hey you know you can tell me anything sweetie, I’m always here for you’ and it helps her. She just.., she just gets real quiet at times.”
“What’s she doing? Do you know?”
“Yeah, yeah I know. She’s reliving it, she relives it for about four hours. About thirty minute before it happens and until thirty minutes after she comes to rest. Everytime she’s following someone else, and she’ll tell me all about them. Sometimes she walks me around in their footsteps. They-uh, they’re very.., eerie. She usually tells me the ones that she felt die inside her, some men killed by the bulkhead door falling on them, some being electrocuted, freezing inside her, imploding people, but one really strikes me. A man so terrified of drowning rushed back to his cabin and hung himself with his bedsheets from the stairs.”
“So, how many has she told you?”
“About fifty or sixty. Some of them reoccur.”
“Is there a, a pattern to them? Are they regular?”
“Nope just, outta the blue. I’ve been eating dinner with her and I’ve been making love with her and all of a sudden-boom. Like the flip of a switch, she’s back entranced.” It were those moments where he really was helpless for her, he could cradle her arms, pipes, cables, or even her vaginal tendril and she’s still left alone. Desperate and despairing with only his coos to remind her it isn’t real. He hated these moments and wished he, too, was a massive entity; massive enough to cradle her hull and hold her tight against him. So she wouldn’t feel alone.
“Sooo, how’s it work? Where do you do?” Bradley glared back at the guy.
“Use your imagination.” He sternly put, it was his way of saying ‘fuck off’. With that he gazed back upon Titanic’s massive side and wanted to hug it all, wrap her up like box and keep her to him. He went aboard to find something of hers to hold tight.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with ,

Hansel and Marion Ch 50:

Ch 50

“Adler get out of the mud!” Thirty-Four pushed Adler out of the mud and kept him going with the group, he loved playing with mud and ever since they had been offloaded of the train Adler has been stopping in every mud hole to play in. And being in a swamp land that is a lot of mud holes. The Russian tanks were well used to the mud and marsh of swamp so this didn’t faze them as much as it did American tanks and some German, but it was sure getting on Thirty-Four’s nerves. They were the second batch on the train, it was Thirty-Four, Adler, Kramia, Mini-Rommel, Erin, Gretchen, Tiger, Frau and Canine’s remains. There were a lot more tanks lined up back at the port but the train could only haul so much. Thirty-Four was in front with Adler at the head of the tank column, the leading car was Kitty the Puma acting as the navigator. Adler stopped to play with mud and this time Thirty-Four scooped him onto her chest. “Adler you’re going to make me throw out a track. You’re getting too big.”

“I need new belts, mom, they aren’t working.”

“No, you got them changed just before the boat ride, you’re fine. What you need to do is keep going and DON’T play in the mud.”

“Moooom!” He groaned as he shook mud out of his hand. They trekked on and eventually came across tall chain linked fences topped with barbed wire. There was a sign that clearly stated that trespassers would be shot, and that photography was a no-no. “Mama, is this our home?” She looked at the complex, so far it looked more like a prison than a camp.

“I guess so.” She replied, holding him tightly in her arms.

“I zought Amerika vas za home of za free? So much for free.” Gretchen said in her accented English as she gazed upon the gates.

“This is here to keep citizens out, not to keep us in. They don’t want people to learn that life as they knew it was wrong.” The human navigator spoke.

“But vie?”

“They’ll stay calm and quiet not knowing, but if they found out, everyone would go crazy.” The two guards at the gate opened up a path and let them through. There they met with an assistant who led them to certain areas, they passed moderate sized building like warehouses that they figured were for testing and storage. They split off just before the large, circular building that seemed to be the main structure and were split by gender. Adler did stay with Thirty-Four for the time being but Mini and Canine’s remains were split from the mostly female group. As Mini passed one of the open warehouse doors Thirty-Four spotted something that instantly changed her.

In the warehouse was a Tiger tank, first model with the Panzer III turret storage bin on the back of the turret. The whole side was riddled with shot holes and the skirts were all missing, one of the exhaust pipe armored covers was gone, too. Just seeing the tank and its presence moved Thirty-Four. She turned to it and put Adler down, commanding him to stay there. She knew what she was looking at, she knew who she was looking at. Without a doubt. Tears formed at her eyes and her body shook with fear and rage, suddenly she lunged forward blinded by emotion and crashed against his side. Her arms flailed against his side, punching and whacking and clawing and pushing and pulling. The Tiger initially was shocked by this but quickly figured who it was, Thirty-Four’s voice reminded him.

“You son of a bitch! You bastard rat! Coward! How could you do this!? I hate you! Worthless Nazi coward rat bastard! Burn in hell you lousy box! I hate you! I hate you! Why? WHY!?!” She sobbed more with her eyes slammed shut and her entire energy being devoted to throwing herself at him. “TELL ME!”

Devastator silently took it. He let her push and attack at him, it barely did anything to his actual body but he still hurt. He knew he did her wrong, he knows that he’s entirely at fault. He can’t comprehend what pain and suffering she’s gone through. He listens very closely to her, he hears her pain and hate, he feels her anger and emotion, he knows his guilt and his burden. He wants to say sorry so badly but knows it’ll fall on deaf ears. Why should she believe him? She had to provide for herself, she had to survive, she had to give birth, and he hopes that she took care and provided for the child. He knows he can’t ever make it perfect or even right. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to help. He continued listening very attentively as she went on about eating her crew, feeling abandoned by the world, her whole life obliterated, the cold and sleepless winter nights and the melting summers. He listened to her tale of eating her own, being a cannibal, hating her body and wishing death to it all. He was listening the whole time as he looked down to the ground in guilt and shame. He had hoped this day would come; the day he returned to her. Then she started asking questions that hit him hard.

“How many others did you rape!? How many others are there!?! Did you even think of us? Did you even care? Did you gloat and boast about us? Were we just campfire stories, bar talks?! Or did you think back and wonder if it’s still just as tight? Is it still hot and wet? Did you care if we were alive or dead?!? Are we just measly sex toys for you to use at your every whim?!” She backed off and looked at him, staring at the ground. “TELL MEEEEE!!!” She shrieked. She threw herself at him again and gripped him, pulling herself to him with screeching metallic groans and shrieks as metal rubbed metal. Dev let her do and say as she pleased, as she wanted, as she so did. He expected this, tried to prepare for this, but all of his fortitude and preparation was shattered by reality. Thirty-Four whispered to him then, “Thank you.” Dev’s eyes widened and went level.

‘What?’ He mouthed, he never expected that. Never. Not once.

“Thank you, he’s all I have to live for.” Her arms were quivering and she was trying to get closer to him. He cautiously reached out with arms to hold her and braced for a burst of hate and bitterness. As he touched her though her body embraced it, as if this was all it needed. “He’s my joy, my friend, my life, he makes me want to wake up every morning, to live each day. Thank you. I never had that before.” Dev turned his turret to face her against his left and pulled her tightly against his side. She was sobbing and crying against his armor. He remembers that day with bitterness, salt and pain. She looked almost the exact same except her green paint was faded, her treads were much more worn and muddy, her gear boxes were warped and equipment was gone, her long saw was covering her shot mark, and there was chipped paint and rust around areas of high movement. He stroked her roof and slipped a hand into hers. He took in a very long and deep breath of air and exhaled a long sigh.

“Panzer thirty-four, I am sorry.” Thirty-Four expected the apology, but like he feared she didn’t believe it, even though she wanted too. It was what he said after that made her believe it. “Yes, I did think about you. I thought about you very much. I was and still am guilt ridden, I knew I did wrong, I knew I ruined you, I never once thought of that as something to be proud of. I hated myself and I made a promise to find you and apologize. I know you won’t believe my sorrows but I feel like I have to do this. I must help sooth your sorrows. I was very much in the wrong and I deserve every insult and every bit of hate you have against me. When others would boast about what they snagged I remembered how wrong I was, how cruel and how you must be suffering. I felt the growing desire to see my child and to raise it, I don’t want a bastard child as there must be so many of now, and I don’t want my child to struggle through their life without a father. I won’t let you suffer any more. I will try to make it right, I will help any way I can. I promise you, on my life, that I will be there when you need me. When my child needs me. Regardless of anything. I will not let you two suffer. You will be taken care of as much as I can do. I will prove that to you. Whatever your name is, if you have a name, I only ask one thing, that one thing is not forgiveness, but to let me help. Let me help raise my child. Let me ease the burden. Please, that is my one and only request.” Thirty-Four had never thought of this, never thought he would ask that, never thought he would want that. She was breath taken and confused, she hated him there but yet was compassionate, she couldn’t explain what she felt for there is no way. No exact way to describe what went through her mind.

“Mama,” Adler asked concerned, “are you ok, mama?” Adler had crept up behind Thirty-Four and was very concerned for her. But he couldn’t help but look at the Tiger tank she was against, he felt something in that tank like he felt in those two German soldiers-but stronger. He felt like a friend with the soldiers but the Tiger, the Tiger made him feel like he was like him, the same way Adler felt with ma but not as strong. Adler wanted to ask who he was, but knew ma would be upset. Just like every other time he asked.

But deep inside Adler wanted to ask, it was a burning desire more powerful than before, he tried to fight it as much as he could because mama wasn’t doing well right now but it demanded to be answered more and more. The question kept crawling and lodging itself in Adler’s throat, again and again he’d swallow hard but it kept coming. It forced its way back. Adler starred to panic, but when he looked into his mother’s eyes for help he saw she needed it more. He saw she needed a push, she needed help with her own question. He saw the anxiety and desire in her eyes so he let his go, he was strong then for his mama. He tipped the balance. “Mama, is this my dad?”

Dev looked up from Thirty-Four and looked at the smaller T-34. It had his own brown eyes but looked exactly like its mother but without tracks or any equipment at all. Dev smiled at it, he looked over the child with a hint of pride and a lot of compassion and love. Adler was looking at Dev but was more scanning over him, Dev wished he was more presentable for his child. “Mama,” he whispered back to Thirty-Four, “it’s beautiful. It looks exactly like you. I’d say you’ve done a great job so far. Please let me help you do the best job, please?” Thirty-Four was looking back at Adler, watching him study over Dev like it’s a new mountain, or a strange tree, or like he did the ship. She heard Dev whisper to her and deep inside it made her feel good. No one has ever complimented Adler or herself like that, Shellproof was the closest to it.

“Adler, this is your father.” Adler wasn’t moved, he figured that by then but just needed assurance. Instead of rushing to greet his father he sat still, instead of asking a million questions that Thirty-Four expected him to do he was silent. She knew he was a smart kid, that he knew they were different. Adler was trying to figure it out himself. He did know that this family of his was different from all the others. He had seen other Tigers and other T-34s scattered among each other where they fell in combat, he had seen the power of war machines. He always silently gazed upon the remnants of the dead and wondered of their final moments. Bodies scorched on and around tanks, soldiers grouped up together in their squads, bits of AT guns scattered around foxholes, he had seen it all and always would silently wonder.

He was doing the same to this Tiger, he noticed the holes on the aft end of the tank, shots at the engine and fuel, but he also noticed there were some shots at a crew that probably wasn’t there. Those shots were pointing in the crew’s compartment, he saw no blood stains or even scorch marks of where ammunition would have gone off. From the amount of kill marks on the Tiger’s gun he knew that the Tiger was no fool, and was probably responsible for mom’s shot wound. There were scorch marks on the turret storage box and the engine deck, he had been set afire, and he saw marks faintly on the turret sides, so he kept fighting after being set afire. Adler now pieced together what he thought happened to him. And he would finally be able to test his theory. “What happened to you? How did you meet this end?” Dev wasn’t expecting that at all.

“What do you mean?” Adler pointed at the various wounds. “Oh, those,” he looked to Thirty-Four for approval, she whispered he’s seen it all and to tell him, “I lost this fight. It was Seelow Heights, we were dug in and waiting for the attack-like we always were, and we had hopes of stopping your push there. We had never felt so surely of victory before, we had hundreds of Panzers, dozens of Tigers, dozens of Panthers, thousands of guns and bombs! We had thousands of eager and determined soldiers, ready to fight to the death. We vowed to stop you there, to end your assault and push you back, and back, and back, all the way back to Moscow! But as you know, and probably saw, we failed. You rolled over us like every other time, there was nothing we could do but buy borrowed time. I was dug into a hill with two guns on each side, three Pak guns and an 88, we overlooked a shallow in the river where tanks and soldiers could cross. In my front were many machine guns and trenches filled with soldiers, ready to cut down any man who stood against them. But instead of men came bombs, then tanks, and more tanks. Panzer 85s barreled across the field and were heading right for us. One gun crew was just as experienced as me, and together we made every shot count. Each time we fired we hit our mark at any range, but sadly for us the other gun crews were too new, they missed again and again, they tried their hardest but they didn’t know what to do. They would miss to the right, they would fall short, they would shoot long. Every so often they would find a mark and kill their target, but then they had to start over with a new target. We couldn’t stop them. Tanks stormed through the river, ran up the hill, ran over our trenches and smashed our guns underneath them. And there was nothing we could do to stop them. The tanks began firing at me while climbing the hill. They missed because they were moving-never fire on the move, it’s bad discipline and a waste of ammunition-but then I felt a hot sting on my side. One had shot me here on my right, then I was hit on my left, and again on my left, and my right, surely if I was full of ammo I would have exploded but all they could shoot were my empty racks. They tried shooting for my crew, but I have never had one, so-”

“They kept shooting your crew room, but when you kept fighting back they shot your engine.”

“Yes, they were panicking then, they dumped a few shots into the dirt, bounced off my deck here, one tank shot the other, but they hit their marks eventually. They pumped shot after shot into my rear, I caught fire all over my back and burned. But I kept fighting, I kept fighting for my brothers, for my homeland, I fought to stop you I turned to shoot here, and there, and over that way and down yonder, but I ran out of ammo, and I ran out of fuel. My engine is now burnt up, it doesn’t run, and my gears are cranky and deformed. I’m very much unusable. And that’s why I’m here. I was captured by a Russian special interest group and when they assessed my damage they deemed me too far gone. They sold me to America in exchange for a curve on their debt.”

“I thought you ran to America like the others did.”

“What?”

“Other Germans, they ran to the Americans to surrender. I got that wrong.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence then. “I felt it was time I stopped running.”

“So why did you run? Why did you run from mom?” Dev took another long sigh, Thirty-Four was still clenching onto him.

“When I met your mother I still took pride in what I did, I was proud of my work and what my job was. I was proud about how well I did my job. So, when I came across and slaughtered her crew and platoon I felt no remorse. I was doing nothing other than killing Germany’s enemies. Yes, I shot your mother, that hole in her chest is from me. I killed her crew and it was just me and her, I was going to kill her but she begged for her life. She begged for her life and I made her do things I shouldn’t have, I wanted my way and I got it, it was wrong what I did and because of what I did you came along. Now you’re not a bad thing, no, you’re rather very smart, you can and will be better than me, but know that what I did was bad. It was very bad. And when I had my fun I left, I went on my way to do my job again. When really my job was supposed to be helping her, and helping you. If she shuns me away from you after now I want you to know this one thing, I’m going to teach you this one lesson now and don’t ever forget it: Do not leave who you want to have your baby. Take your time finding someone you want to become a parent with and you stay with them. Don’t you leave them, don’t you abandon them, and don’t you EVER force it on them. You love them, you care for them, and you stay with them no matter what! Do that and you’ll be a great dad. Better than me.”

“Adler!” Kramia called, “Adler come find your name here!” Adler slowly backed away to go find whatever Kramia called him for as he thought about what he had just been told. After he was gone Thirty-Four spoke up.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Teaching him the one thing I couldn’t.”

“I know you’ve been trying to escape it, but I’m here to make it right.” He went to let her out of his arms but she stopped him.

“No, I need this.” He didn’t understand what she needed but she did; she needed someone to hold her, to make feel like everything’s alright, to make her feel good. And she didn’t care who from. It took some time before Thirty-Four asked him what he was doing here.

“They want to study my body healing.” Now it was his turn to ask a question. “What is your name, Panzer thirty-four?”

“My name?” She didn’t know her name, she was a T-34 tank, she was just called ‘thirty-four’ by everyone. But was that really her name? “I don’t know, everyone just calls me thirty-four. I don’t have a name.”

“How does Vitaliya sound?” That made Thirty-Four feel nice.

“I like that name.”

“Ask your child first.”

“Adler, his name is Adler.” She broke away to park parallel to him and pull herself close to him. They talked from there on, she asked him many questions like where he went, who he met, if there really were other breathers that he killed. She asked him why he cared so much, why he didn’t desert and find them, and what he wants to do with his ‘family.’ And he answered, he answered every question fully, he explained himself, he told her straight, he had no fluff or elaboration. All he had for her were answers. This was able to last until sundown, when Adler got back to them. He saw them so closely together and it made him wonder about Dev, and he didn’t even know his name.

“Father, what’s your name?”

“My name, they named me Devastator, but everyone called me Dev for short. What’s yours?”

“Mom named home Adler.”

“I like that name. Well it’s nice to meet you at last, Adler.” He beckoned him closer to shake hands, Adler never shook hands before and was very new to it. It was almost difficult. “Adler, do you know your mother’s name?”

“Yeah! It’s-!” He suddenly stopped and a look of bewilderment came over him, he didn’t know her name at all. “I don’t think mama has a name.” He was sad and looking to her for an answer.

“I didn’t, but how does Vitaliya sound?” Adler looked very happy. That made her smile wide and blush, the two Russians smiling with glee made Dev happy, and he, too, smiled. Even though his was under his mantle and near impossible to see it was smiling. Then Vitaliya turned on Dev. “How does moving in sound, Dev?” He was completely taken by surprise again.

“Like, moving into the same warehouse? Together?” She nodded, Adler bounced in anticipation with an abundance of excitement.

“You found our house, right Adler?”

“Yes! I did! Oh please, dad, please!?” He begged and begged for an answer that was already a yes and Dev grabbed ahold of Adler and Vitaliya and tucked them tight and snug in his arms, this was the very best moment of his life.

“I love you two.”

Fin Ch 50

 

****BONUS****

“Mama, can you sleep with me?” Adler wouldn’t stay inside his room. He persisted that she stay in the room with him.

“Adler why? Just go to sleep, please?” Vitaliya groaned, she was very tired, Adler was obviously disturbed.

“I’m scared again!” He cried, Vitaliya knew what he was scared of but Dev did not.

“Of what?”

“Hitler! He stomps around on T-34s and he laughs like a gun! I don’t want him to step on me!” Dev moved closer to him and grabbed Adler on his flanks. Chuckling softly at Adler’s childish nightmare.

“Adler, you don’t have to worry about Hitler again, he’s dead now.” That comforted Adler a little bit, Dev continued to belittle Hitler into nothing. “Besides, Hitler was just a little, fat man. About this tall, as tall as you, and he was fleshy! He was fat, fleshy, and short! He was just a crazy, evil man that made other men, real men, fight for him. Don’t fear him anymore. He’s a dead man, smaller than you at his greatest, and worthless at that compared to you. If you ever feel scared of him again, you come out of your room and find me, I’ll be over there awake, just so I can tell you again: Hitler isn’t big or scary, he’s a dead man.” That made Adler feel much more comfortable. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Adler hugged Dev’s bow and murmured to him, “I love you, dad.”

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Hansel and Marion Ch 49: A New World

Hey guys I’m back to HaM! It’s been a very long while since I actually posted HaM so just as a refresher it’s just after the war ended and nearly all the living machines have been sent into France to be rounded up and kept together-except for Marion and her crew.

Enjoy.

Ch 49

Time seemed to blend together after the war. The German army was under control of Allied leadership and mixed units were patrolling and sorting out the various Wehrmacht heer groups and getting them home or redeploying them to other areas. This included Hansel and Marion. They were used at a checkpoint to check IDs, direct traffic, and make sure there were no problems. Then they were tasked with assisting in demilitarizing areas where there had been military buildup and fortification. Afterwards they had been put more towards Berlin along the line that separated the Soviet army and the American army. Tensions were high at this point; American and Soviet generals had been talking about warring with the other for total control; the Soviets wanted to spread their ideals and so did the Americans. With their experiences, many of the Russian deserters chose America over their motherland because of the welcome embrace they received and the much freer lifestyle. While they were not free the machines did at least have some roaming privileges and social time. They also were told what intent America had for them. They were test subjects and specimens of study and further study was to be conducted within the American shores, where it would be much more difficult for Russia to learn of the breathers. It took six months for the negotiations to be fully completed and then another year for everything to be set up and readied for the departure.

The machines negotiated their human spouses to accompany them and to be treated as a married couple, together wherever, but Marion, being an instrument of the American tank core and not a subject of the science department, did not have these negotiating privileges. At the end of the war Marion’s crew only consisted of herself, Hansel, and Meats. After the war, they stayed together until the following November, where Meats was let go from active service and he was given passport home in Frankfurt. It was a long and seldom goodbye between the three of them. After that it was just Hansel and Marion sitting in their hull down foxhole. They were prepared for a Russian assault along with about two-hundred and fifty other soldiers and ten tanks and bunches of AT guns and mortars. The machine folk were all heartbroken when General Patton died, and especially his old third army. It was an American tragedy that he died; a hero to his country, much like his esteemed German counterpart Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. While Hansel and Marion were still together and grateful that they survived the war they were undecided on the outcome. They were happy the war was over and that their friends were alive but at the same time they lost, their country was in shambles, and the genocide that their leaders started had blackened the image of their proud home.

Hansel couldn’t see himself living in a divided country, where one half wanted to invade the other to ‘liberate and unify’ the other. He loved his home and his family, loved his country, but couldn’t stand to see what a divided future would lead his beloved country to. Hansel grew more narcissistic by the month and this made Marion upset, she couldn’t stand to see him so negative and bleak about the future. She took matters into her own hands and wrote to the command requesting a different deployment in some other country. Perhaps a station in France to help rebuild or a convoy escort in Belgium, she didn’t care. Repeatedly she was denied by the command until one of the commanders griped to her old American Major.

He arranged her and Hansel to get some “R ‘n’ R” in northern France, just south of Juno beach. This helped Hansel’s state and he started to be more lively and optimistic. He had always shown compassion and relief towards Marion but not to others or in a general mood until France. He would frequently think back to the things he did during the war, things he was not too proud of. He took the lives of his enemies with a certain grain of salt when it happened but he didn’t allow it to change him; as he knew they wouldn’t hesitate to end his life. But their lives still seemed to plague him, and only Marion seemed to assuage these demons completely. She forbade him from drinking, and he had long decreed to never smoke, so Marion was his only relief. And he was her only relief.

They spent another whole year in France and again and again they’d wake the other in a fit of nightmares, or cry to the other, or suddenly start spilling their guts about regret and death. Hansel’s father had told him stories of “Shell Shock” and rumors of what causes it, Hansel denied having it for he was physically perfect. But every now and then his mind would linger and he’d swear he had gotten it, he was unlucky and damned enough to have Shell Shock. Marion thought the two of them had guilty conscious and that they only needed to let it out and help each other. They were both correct, they suffered from PTSD but only mildly, their lives were not dictated or wrecked by the war, but it followed them. They quickly found ways to help the other cope, and they stood by each other when the other needed help. Sometime in May, 1947, they applied for passports to America with help from Major Cahrmicheal and obtained them with Hansel’s connection to Joshua. Major Cahrmicheal set them up with a place in central Florida, somewhat near where the other machines had been sent.

The breathers agreed they didn’t want to deal with the ‘winter wrath’ where rapid temperature drop weakened their bodies. But with the desert not being a great place for big engines and complex mechanics, the second option of marsh was picked. While the land of south east America varied, it was sustainable for tracked vehicles. The vehicles were concentrated around a central hub area where tests could be conducted and the lab could be set up. All around it were plots of land with huge garages, the plots varied from 5 acres to 18 acres based on the vehicle’s size and abnormality from most road vehicles. They generally had about a two or three-mile drive to the hub, but Marion’s drive would be about twenty. There was an Army Air Core facility twenty-two miles from the hub that had fenced off twenty plus acres of land with a hard-packed concrete runway and a heavily reinforced hanger floor with sturdy and reenforced walls and ceilings for the hanger. It almost looked more like an armored warehouse. Adjacent and attached to the hanger was a two-story house that the members used. It was properly furnished, plumbed, and accommodated, but it was very bland. Once they had learned of their new home Hansel and Marion gathered addresses from their friends still in Germany and France, and spent some time with them before moving to the port that Peiper was targeting in the Ardennes offensive, the one where Marion changed sides. They were excited, very excited! New people, new life, new opportunities, America! The land of dreams! Because they were not a part of the science department Hansel and Marion had complete freedom, they were moving to America as veterans and as German civilians. Hansel packed Marion full of clothes, tools, knickknacks, memorabilia, books, some house utensils, and anything else they could fit and wanted. Hansel also was given permission to bring his car over, he was absolutely amazed at how pristine and perfect his car was when his old home wasn’t. It had only been in an alley a house down in a backlot the whole war, and now he had the chance to drive it more than across the neighborhood. It was a first model Adler 6 standard with the engine and transmission of the 1934 Adler 6 standard with four gears, he sold the old engine and transmission to a guy that wanted to make his own car and used that money as well as money from selling other useless trinkets to get the engine. He named his car Ava and kept it clean, shiny, and running. The body was a dark oak brown with a yellow-gold trim and white highlights. The interior was a lavish green with leather seats and balsa wood interior painted to look like Cherrywood. The gearshift knob was a bright red with a white band that connected to the long black shaft. As he drove his car back to Marion, it filled with his possessions, he looked back to when he was fixing up the car. He had dreams of taking all the pretty girls to the fields he crop dusted and showing them the land, or taking his lovely honey down to the river in the moonlight to spend the night. He dreamed of driving far off and seeing the world in this car.

And then war broke out.

Hansel eventually got back to Marion and showed her the car he built. A few days later their ship arrived, a merchant ship that made hundreds of voyages to Britain and America during the war, still painted in its blue, grey, and black stripes in a “dazzle” pattern. This is when Marion discovered her greatest fear; a fear more crippling than airplanes, more crippling than artillery: heights. She was lifted using four of her towing eyes and the whole time she was groaning, trembling, shivering, and nearly shrieking in fear. What’s worse is Hansel had to watch it all and could do nothing but try to yell over the machinery to calm her down. No matter how he yelled it was not soothing. One of the merchants said that it was normal for heavy machines that spend their lives latched onto the ground to have a fear of not being latched to the ground. He said every tank that he shipped did it. Marion’s eyes were clenched shut and she was trying to think of happier things, like the fun they had with Cindy, Whacker’s wise cracks, Hansel, a peaceful home. And before she knew it she felt pressure under her treads, she had been lowered into the ship’s belly. She took deep breaths and calmed down as sailors unhitched the cables from her eyes. Next, they loaded on the car and that’s when Hansel boarded the ship. He spent time with Marion and when the ship was towed and sent out to sea he stood on the deck and watched Europe disappear. He wondered if he’d ever see Europe again, if he’d ever have its soil beneath his feet, if he’d ever get to bring Marion with him if he could, it was very emotional for him. He watched the shoreline fade away, the cliffs and tall lighthouses fade away into the fog, shrink into the horizon, and soon all around was nothing but the choppy North Atlantic.

He thought of Rudolph then, he remembered going to Rudolph’s family back in Munich while getting his car. Rudolph was not picked up by the British. Rudolph was M.I.A./K.I.A. with his ship, the Bismarck. Hansel plucked a yellow flower that day from Rudolph’s garden and the family wrote prayers to him on a streamer tied around the stem. Hansel had that flower and tossed it into the waves, watching it slosh around and slowly disappear to the waves to be swallowed and welcomed by the Atlantic; just as his friend was. He started to cry then as he backed away from the rail and slumped against the wall sobbing, he remembered their last day together and just let it repeat in front of him again and again. Then he wondered what Rudolph’s last glimpse of Europe was, if it was as miserable and foggy as his own, or cheery, bright, and prideful. Hansel talked to himself as if he was talking to Rudolph again, he began spitting stories of basic training, then how it was training with the tanks. He spurred on about Russia and being wounded, then officer school and eventually how machines were alive. He talked about Marion, and Cindy, and Anton and Faust, about how his family was and how Munich was, he said the bar was still standing and recommended they go catch up more there. That was when he looked up from his lap out into the grey-blue world wholly believing that Rudolph was right there in front of him. It was a very harsh reality check. He completely let go and bawled his eyes out, cradling his legs against his chest. A senior sailor was passing by when he noticed Hansel’s distress.

“Was wrong, lad? Was got ye so teary?” It took Hansel some time to figure out what the heavy accent asked.

“Loss.” Hansel eventually spit out after much effort.

“Loss o yer home?”

“My friend.” The sailor bent over and sat next to Hansel, gripping Hansel’s shoulder with a rough leathery hand.

“How’d he die, son?”

“His ship,” e spat, “sank, not picked up.”

“Now hear me here, I been on six ships in this war alone, an tree in the last, all sank, ye hear? They all sank but I’m here ain’t I? Lady Luck has a weird way of working her magic, yer friend may be alive out there. He might be on a raft fishin’ right now o’ees tryna get home. What I learn’d is to trust yer gut, so son whatchyer gut say?” Hansel hesitated.

“I don’t know.”

“Keep yer head up son, till they give ye a body he ain’t dead.” That gave Hansel enough strength to pick his head up and say thank you, get back down to Marion, and vent the rest to her.

The voyage was uninteresting, nearly a week long of Hansel staying with Marion, sleeping on her, or in his car, getting chow and sharing some morsels with Marion, daydream about their future lives, and try their best to not get sick. Once their voyage had passed and Marion struggled through another crane lifting her up and on to a train they were good to go. Hansel had to drive his car shadowing the train from a port in Georgia down south to the middle of bumfuck nowhere across the way from the quiet little town of mapless journey. Hansel found out that the train station they arrived at was founded nearly a hundred year ago-and it still looked like absolutely fuck-all lived here. Still, this is where they were going to live and so Hansel led Marion down a dirt road, then another, and another, and another, until the tall barbed wire fence with a sign painted, in German, “Welcome breather!” was in front of them. Waiting for them was a man from the science lab twenty miles away to let them in, show them around, and the next day take them to the lab as requested by both Marion and the test subjects. They had just unpacked Marion when they were led up to the lab, they were very excited to reunite with all their old friends. Marion did see some trouble moving through the marsh but her low foot pressure made sure she didn’t sink deep into the marsh. She eventually pushed her way through the marshes and made the long journey to the lab. The gates were tall and the fences were barbed, with many reasons to keep people out and away from the fact that metal lived, but once they were inside the daunting facade was just that and the complex was very friendly.

Staff members were very friendly and had taken to the machines as people, but just like people they had stereotypes. None of the staff would dare say what they say around the machines or their human spouses in fear but they’d gossip to each other. Of course, the human spouses knew that there’d be a new form of racism, technically specism, but they did not let their loved ones know or let it get to them. The staff would judge the machines for their spouses, stereotype that they breed like rabbits, their only use is sex and murder, they are stupid and gullible. Easily used. Of course, most of it was not true, they were conceived and produced to be superb killing machines of war but they were smart, loved one another like family, and were finding new uses in a world without war. But the staff didn’t know that, or care for that, they did as people do and stereotype. Some of the soldiers that worked and served by them were appointed to the lab as guards and once they got wind of the talk they were furious. They had learned to love the machines, saw them as life savers and heroes, saw them as friends-brothers and sisters more like it, and despised the staff. The guards were the first to tell Hansel about the staff’s stereotypes. That didn’t matter to Hansel as he and Marion saw an unknown Tiger that looked like Swiss cheese.

Fin Ch 49

Feel free to ask any questions in the comments, also many parts of this chapter are purposefully rushed and sort of empty to convey just how blurred and meaningless the time was for the pair.

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Nagato

Alright so the last time I posted was last year in September, damn. The whole time I’ve been writing and reviewing this story and doing a bunch of other shit in my life that has just taken up more time than it needed too. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this probably long awaited story-or at least long awaited post-that confirms I’m still around.

Nagato

Tyler rolled off the side of his boat, hand on his face mask and tether in hand. Once all the bubbles of his splash dissipated he looked around and checked his gear; he made sure nothing was snagging, entwined, or faulty before he began his descent. He swam down to the belly of a goliath beast; one that at one time was the largest and most powerful beings to glide across the sea. He swam to the rusted and barnacle covered belly before he started moving laterally toward four massive propellers, each larger than his boat, and two rudders that absolutely dwarfed him. That was where he passed the tether through the gap of a propeller and its shaft and brought it up and over to tie it. He grabbed the tether and looked up to the shadow above, pulling the tether to ensure a good hold. He looked back down and stroked the seam where the propeller shaft meets the hull and watched the massive beast stir and awaken.

“You know how much I hate that.” A booming voice sounded in Tyler’s head, he watched the propellers ever so slowly turn. “Find some other way to wake me.”

“How about I try the slit again?”

“NO.” She boomed even more fearsomely in his head. “NEVER AGAIN. Once was TOO much.”

“C’mon, what did you think would happen? You know divers come here and you know divers love to touch shiny smooth things at wrecks. It’s was so shiny and polished, so strange, I was gonna touch it.”

“Pervert.”

“How was I supposed to know?” He started his journey towards the bow. “And you never said hi, either.” She groaned.

“Guhhh! Hi, Tyler.”

“Hello, Nagato,” he chuckled a bit in his mask, “it’s always a dumb chore to get you to say hello, I don’t like dumb chores.”

“I don’t like dumb divers.”

“Hey!” He started. “I’m not a dumb diver!”

“I never said you were a dumb diver, Tyler, you’re a great diver, it’s fuck-up that really pissed me off.”

“It’s really not that uncommon for divers to drown in

wrecks.”

“You know where she drowned.”

“I do, and that most certainly was a fuck-up.” By this time he was passing where Nagato’s pagoda style mast would have been, if it weren’t bent over and stabbed into the sand underneath.

“I even tried helping her, but no, she fucked herself too much for even me to help.”

“Don’t dwell on it.”

“I try not to. Anything new in the world?”

“Well, since I helped lift Prinz Eugen there’ve been a lotta others lifted and rebuilt. The most recent one may surprise you.”

“Who? What? Which ship was lifted?”

“I want you to guess.”

“Arizona?”

“The American ship in Pearl? No.”

“Yorktown?”

“Nope. But you were close with the starting letter.”

“Yamashiro?”

“Nope, but she’s a battleship.”

“No.”

“Hmm?”

“No way. Impossible.”

“Ah? That’s what they said about finding Titanic.”

“No way in hell you lifted Yamato.”

“She’s sitting in front of the Yamato museum right now.”

“Bullshit.”

“I got pictures.”

“Show me, fucking show me now!” He took off his glove so that his hand was bare; he pressed it against her exposed metal hard and thought about the video he saw with Yamato in the dry dock, being converted into a museum.

“Oh Hirohito,” she knew he had long ago died but still revered to him, “she sails again!” Her arms that weren’t rusted to the point of immovable tried to reach out and hug him but him being more or less on her hull and not anywhere near her superstructure kept him well out of reach. “Do you think they’ll pick me up!?”

She sounded hopeful, excited, expecting a yes from him. But the problem was that ship salvaging is expensive, very expensive just to raise debris and propellers and rudders. Salvaging the whole ship-intact at that- is multiple times the cost of normal salvaging, that’s money that people dream of in crazy illusions, and that’s only the first stage of the process. Then on top of that there’s the use of the slipway and the cost of restoration and repair, that’s another fortune gone, and that’s all just to get the ship back to being usable. After that there’s the continuous cost of maintenance and repair, fuel and consumables, taxes and tariffs. That’s money that Tyler, Tyler’s kids, and the kids of his kids, could never ever earn in their whole lives combined. But he couldn’t say no to her, he couldn’t ever hurt her. “We’ll see, because I don’t know.”

“Hmmpff.” That was all she responded with. He had worked on the recovery of Prinz Eugen and she knew that. “Could you at least pull some strings, see if I’m in a line up?”

“I’ll at least do that.” There was a quiet moment while he checked his oxygen tank.

“I really want to sail again; it’s all I’ve ever done.” Tyler stopped, she sounded sad and depressed.

“What do you mean?”

“I never did anything spectacular, I never actually fought against a ship in a duel, I never stopped a landing, I didn’t really do as much as an American battleship. I may have had many more jobs than an American, hotel for a prince, rescue ship, I was a troop transport a lot, a floating plane killer, and flagship many times, but all I have are a few plane kills to my twenty-five years of service. Sailing was all I did mostly. We’d sail here, sail there, sail around a bit, sail back over here, Yamato, Fuso, and I, it’s all we’d do.” Tyler patted her side.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it won’t do anything if you are.”

“Why are you such a downer today?”

“Why?”

“You’re not you. You’re sad and depressed and miserable, you’re normally cheery.” She sighed in his head, he’s known and talked to her for about a year and that still freaks him out sometimes.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately, I’ve been having bad dreams, just, I’m feeling like I did after we lost, again. I’m feeling like when I got nuked, as you say. I just wanted to die for so long.”

“Let it out, I’m here.”

“You ever feel like that? You felt so bad you didn’t want to feel anything? You just wanted to lay down and die, to just go away? Leave it all? I did a lot after we surrendered, and even more as the bombs dropped on me. But if I really think about it I feel like I did after they sent off Yamato, when she was sent off for the last time. We were really close friends, she’d always be the one that the flag would go to but I was always around her. That didn’t matter. We did so much together that, that when she sank I died a little bit on the inside. I felt the same when Fuso sank. But Yamato hit me harder; she took more out of me.” She seemed to break down crying. “I can’t believe that she’s afloat again! It means so much to me!” This time Tyler did embrace her body with his arms, rubbing off some dead barnacles and doing his best to comfort her.

He spent the rest of his time with her comforting her and talking about what Japan is doing to Yamato, making her a naval war museum, and what’s happened to all the others that have been raised. He eventually had to leave so he did; he untied his tether and slowly ascended to the surface. He climbed into the boat and stripped off the heavy gear and stowed it all appropriately. He hooked his air tank to a pump that supercooled the gasses it pumped into the tank to their freezing point, so that it could hold many hours of air inside it. While this did make it many times heavier, it makes deep sea diving even more exploratory and diverse. It was this equipment that allowed divers to swim through Britannic’s hallways from bow to stern and back before they even needed to think about ascending. He started the pump and began the engine, sailing over to his camp out island not too far from Nagato. At his camp he wondered about raising her, he decided to give it a go. He called Tobias at around 5 o’clock. Tobias didn’t seem that happy.

“Tyler do you have any idea what time it is in Germany right now?”

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, why’d you call?”

“Y’know that ship I like?”

“Yeah the Japanese one, what about it?”

“Yeah she’s alive.”

“You just found out? You’ve been diving her for over a year, wasn’t that your first wreck dive?”

“Yeah, way, way back. But I’ve known that for a year now..,”

“So? Did you just remember to tell me, or?”

“She wants me to pull some strings.”

“What, kind, of strings?”

“Is she in an order?”

“Hold on,” he heard the phone hit a table and a zipper open, and then he heard a lot of papers rustling as Tobias searched through. “No. No she’s not.”

“Fuck.” Tyler’s head dropped into his free hand, he rubbed his forehead as he thought. “Aw fuck, how am I going to break it to her?” Tobias could sense the sorrow in his friend on the other side of the world.

“You don’t want to hurt her, do you?”

“No, and especially not now.” Tobias didn’t respond, waiting for Tyler to explain. “She’s been really miserable lately, really depressed.”

“How depressed?”

“She wants to die.”

“Fuck.” What they had found on their journey to raise the first living ship is that when machines are rusted and in such deplorable states such as being a very old wreck they have the ability to simply die. They can choose whether or not to live or die, and many of the candidates were once alive but had given up on their lives. Depression doesn’t help that decision for life. “You don’t want her to die, do you?”

“No, I love her!” His fascination goes back to his childhood with Nagato, a relatively overlooked ship of history. But there was something about her that captivated his mind all through his life. “I can’t hurt her, I just can’t!” He was shaking with fear, how does he tell his lifelong obsession something that bad, and in such a teetering position? “What do I do, Tobey? What do I do?!”

“Calm down, calm down, I’ll make a mention of her at the conference later, well today now, okay? I’ll ask around and see if we need any testing done. That sound good?”

“Yes!” He was excited, still shaking but excited. “Yes! That sounds great! Thank you Tobias! Thank you!”

“Bye-bye.” Tobias hung up the phone and went back to sleep. Tyler put down his phone and stirred the soup he was cooking; his mind wandered and thought who would pick her up? America hasn’t actually picked up any ships, Britain has gotten a few, Japan got the Yamato, Prinz Eugen was sort of a dispute between America, who owned her at the time of the sinking, and Germany, that owned her when she was built, and Germany won the dispute but barely. It was a deal that Prinz Eugen would be a part of the U.S. Navy but with a German crew in German waters and would be modernized by Germany under American standards. Needless to say it was very complicated indeed and America is negotiating a tradeoff between the countries as well. He hoped that one country would outright claim her and no one else. As it turned out the next day, no one claimed her.

“What?” Tyler asked in astonishment.

“I’m sorry, but neither Japan nor America was interested in raising her, not to test anything, not to rearm her, not anything.”

“But don’t all those new systems that came up just two months ago need to be tested? I mean, they’re really just releasing it into the industry without testing?”

“They’ve already tested the systems on smaller craft and found that they all failed. If they failed on small craft sunk a week before, what’s it gonna do to a ship seventy years aged?” Tyler collapsed into a chair and dropped his head into his hands; his phone was on speaker mode.

“So,” he said with a sob, “she’s never being raised?” He expected a sorrowful confirm.

“No,” he picked his head up, “not necessarily.” Tyler looked into the phone with awe and scooted his chair forward towards it. “I also put out a general offer, once it was approved by the boss, but there’s a general offer out there.”

“So there’s hope?”

“Lots of it, it was out for about two hours and there were already three or four interested. I remember seeing Indonesia, United African Federation, and Australia-”

“Australia?!”

“Yes you Aussie, Australia.” Tyler was elated.

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He quickly said his goodbye and hung up, racing to get his gear together and get out to Nagato. He had all of his gear together and ready to dive just before sundown, night diving is very dangerous but a veteran diver of ten years like Tyler knows how to do it and how to do it well. He did as he always did by starting at the stern and tying his craft to the propeller. Afterwards he swam to the anchor and jostled the holds. “Wake up Nagato!”

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” She yelled in his head. “What? What is it? You’re excited.”

“You’re in a lineup!”

“I am!?” Her voice elevated in pitch and volume, “I am! When am I being raised? When!?” An arm that hadn’t moved in decades broke free and wrapped around Tyler. His tremendous excitement turned to fear; he’d seen her arms, seen them move and grab, but he’d never been wrapped by one. This arm was very much jagged and crusty, he feared for his cords.

“Uhh, well there’s no date but countries are looking at you.”

“Japan?!”

“No.” She paused and sort of whimpered.

“America?” She said with a depressed draw.

“No.” Nagato was confused.

“Then.., who?”

“Three so far,” he cleared his voice like he was gonna give a speech, “Indonesia,” he paused, “the United African Federation,” he paused again but extra dramatic here, “and Australia.” Tyler saw Nagato with a cartoonish grin as she responded.

“You’re Australian, aren’t you?”

“Bingo.”

“You told me a while ago about that, but why would Africa want me?” Tyler’s mind was completely blank.

“I’ve no clue.”

“Didn’t you mention that they’ve been pumping out new technology? Maybe they want me for something like that?”

“Maybe. But wherever you go I’ll go.”

“Why?”

“I’m all you have right now. Who else is going to be as comforting for you?”

“Yeah that’s true. Once I get my radio back I’ll have Yamato, so you can finally go home-if it’s not Australia that picks me up.”

“Oh I’m hoping for Australia, I’m praying that it’s Australia.”

“I thought you said you weren’t religious.”

“I’m not, that’s the thing.”

“So why do you want me in Australia so bad? You have other friends.”

“Well you have a lot of history with me-”

“I have a lot of history in general.”

“-but you were my first wreck dive.”

“Awe I’m flattered, how long ago? You’ve been diving for a while.”

“Ten years ago, when I was sixteen years old. I’d been snorkeling since I could walk, and so my parents got me diving before driving. My dad actually took me diving to you specifically because you’re not too hard to reach, hard to miss, well documented, and I had a model and a book of you when I was young.”

“Awe, so precious.” Tyler talked more about his first dive to her and then he told her what to expect when she would be raised. After that it was very dark and he had to go, Nagato said she was very excited to hear from him again and that made Tyler get butterflies lodged in his stomach.

He waited two days for more news and his patience paid off, he learned about who bought her. Australia had indeed bought her, to Tyler’s great elation, and they had bought her for two reasons. The first reason was to instill her as a Second World War museum in tribute to the Australians who gave their lives during the war and went into history overlooked, and the second reason was in tandem with the large science community in the UAF and Australia. They intended to conduct tests on her biomass for any radiation poisoning or mutation, basically they want to see the results of a radiation exposed living machine. This news came late in the night for Tyler so he would have to wait for the next day to tell Nagato, and as he tried sleeping he constantly rolled over and over, unable to calm himself. While he did eventually sleep his mind dreamt of raising her and the great elation they would share. Towards the end of the night while he slept he dreamt something different, he dreamt about confessing his love to her. He had never dreamt of loving her, marrying her (which Australia acknowledged and accepted), or having sexual relations with her; he only dreamt of her riding the waves elegantly, sounding her guns off with thunderous booms that echoed across the ocean, simply being with her and generally having a good time together, nothing that deep. So this dream of approaching her and announcing his love and compassion to her was different but wasn’t rejected or feared, he knew that she’d eventually know he loved her but he didn’t want that knowledge to change their relationship. In his dream she acknowledged it but never fell into his arms nor was disgusted by it, she simply accepted it and didn’t let that change their friendship. He wished and hoped it’d be just like that when he did tell her: just another thing he told her, nothing life changing at all.

The next morning he woke up later than usual but was able to get to Nagato sooner than ever before, and she was waiting, waiting excitedly for word on her fate. He didn’t even have to wake her up.

“Nagato! Nagato! They called!”

“They did!? What did they say?! What did they say!?!”

“You’re being raised!” She laughed joyously in his head and her hull creaked and groaned as she forced it to flex again. Tyler felt her awesome power as he had grabbed onto her bilge keel to get their direct emotions across. Tyler had never felt this much joy ever before in his life, her joy and his joy fused together to create a plethora of dopamine in their minds. They were high on happy.

He quickly spit out what it was she would be raised for and what plans were for her. She listened very closely, and tried to see herself there, as a museum ship with a big stick on her tongue as she said “ah” for the doctor. It made her laugh. Seeing how happy she was made Tyler very happy, very anxious to get her up and floating again.

“It’s set up for next month, that’s when the crew will get here! Oh I can’t wait! I can’t wait! I just wanna sleep the days away until they get here!”

“Sleep here, with me!” Tyler got that awkward feeling in his gut and he blushed like a school boy.

“I need air, and food.”

“No, no, we can do what Bismarck did with that deer!” That’s how she remembers the story of Bismarck and Rudolph. He didn’t think she exactly knew how that worked, it made her seem so naive, and she was nearly four times Tyler’s age.

“We can’t, though, you aren’t healthy enough.”

“For what? I just connect to you and that’s it.” He broke it down for her.

“Bismarck first mutated Rudolph into a humorph, after that she hooked up to him and sealed him up. Even though she did that when we pulled him out he was in such a critical condition we had to set up a full medical station there just to keep him alive while we, through Bismarck’s life systems, reestablished his immune system, circulatory system, parts of his nervous system, he was really, really messed up. I honestly never thought we’d bring him back to his body; he was so.., so mangled. Flesh was stripped off his body, silver-white bone was exposed, his clothes were in tatters and strands, and his body was honestly the same way. His skin that was left was yellowish-white and slimy, his eyes oddly enough stayed together well, so did his organs like his digestive system and brain but his lungs had collapsed and filled with water. His hair was really weird, very messy and slimy, too. He looked like he’s been dead for seventy years and thrown through a mincer and frozen. It really is a miracle that he was even alive, that his heart was still beating. It really was bad.”

“I guess it shows how far medicine has come in only a few scores.” She did not feel too good picturing that body, she rejected her previous idea and sent him home. Well, back to his camp. “Wait,” she stopped him, “how am I not healthy enough?”

“To mutate me, you’d get maybe halfway through it and we’d both be fucked. Like deathly ill fucked.”

She let him go that time and off he went. He got back to camp and decided to island hop back to a port to restock on supplies enough to last him until the exposition arrived. That supply run took up a week and he got back two weeks and four days from the expected arrival, so he decided to break out the easel and paints and start painting. It was something he’d acquired recently in his life, boredom aboard a ship can be a good catalyst for talent. He sat on the beach gazing out to where Nagato lays and he tried to picture what it’d look like with her on the waves again just after lifting. He started by painted the shore and the sun, the shore was in the foreground and he put the sun to the east and rising, painting the sky a purple orange for beauty. He then thought long and hard about what she would look like, trying to picture her not in her glory but in her decrepit state was very hard and stomach churning. He eventually thought of her in a way that seemed fit, he started by putting her long and short hull on the water in its rustic green and orange color, then he started building the structure and then superstructure. He put the most astern mast over like the Arizona’s fell and the forward pagoda mast bent forwards as well, the majority of the pagoda was intact with gun and rangefinder platforms barely hanging on, the smokestack was crumpled and fallen over. The gun turrets had their guns lodged up to the sky, like they had given out and gravity drug the barrels down as she was over turned. She was a form of her glory but indeed recognizable. He was happy with how she looked and so he put in the shadows and highlights before moving on to finishing the sky and clouds around her. It took him most of the afternoon to finish it, and once he got it done he carefully moved it into his shack and set it to dry before he recovered his paints, stand, and stool.

He made his dinner and started his mental preparation for raising Nagato, it starts out with combing over her hull looking for entry points that need sealing. Next the superstructure is examined for integrity while the surrounding area is mapped and plotted for objects that Nagato could run into if she gets caught in a current. Once the hull and superstructure is externally concluded as sound either drones or divers are sent into the hull and superstructure to get a entire conclusion on stability. Once that is done measures are taken to compartmentalize and prepare the ship for the stresses of being raised. Generally the compartments are over pumped with gas to make them buoyant and counter the external pressure of the water outside, normally dead metal ships of serious rusting wouldn’t ever survive this process but because living ships are very flexible and tolerant of these stresses they can take it all the way onto the surface. While on approach to the surface gassed are carefully taken out of the ship to reduce the likelihood of the ship exploding from the pressure. There are multiple methods, all used at the same time, to ensure the pressure is equal to the pressure outside and one method is someone is there with the ship asking if anything feels wrong or off. He saw himself navigating the p-ways and bulkheads and compartments, scanning her corners for holes, her welds for tears, her walls for openings. He saw himself giving the ‘a-okay’ and ascending to the surface, regearing, and heading back down to be the ‘hand of God’ as he rode her to the surface not too far away. It’s a good depth but it’s not a deep dive and well within veteran diver range. He did this day after day, night after night, every day and night until they arrived. They arrived with the usual two ships, one for towing and support while the other had the pump equipment and water gear. He tottered his boat out and tied up to the dive ship and readied for the dive. He went out on his own before anyone else because he already knew her, he really hated briefings, and he already knew way more than they knew about her position, condition, and attitude.

“They’re here!”

“I KNOW!” She was extremely excited, she couldn’t contain her excitement, her hull was creaking and groaning and moaning and roaring with her movements. This upset Tyler.

“Nagato you need to calm down! Remember you can’t flex and stretch like that or you could break in half and sink right back to the bottom again!”

“I know! I need to relieve myself somehow!” Tyler began getting a little anxious, nervous, and embarrassed. He wasn’t sure what that meant, he wasn’t sure how long they’d have alone, and he didn’t know if he even could.

“Just breath, don’t think too much about it Nagato. You’ll be calm by the time we raise you.” She kept squirming around, creaking and groaning. He decided for her best interest he would go up to the ship and request that they sedate her. Once the others had dived down they confirmed that they’d need to seriously sedate her because of her instability. Tyler participated in scoping her and the area out, updating her about her state and giving her the good news. “You’re in really good condition Nagato, very good.”

“That’s great, Tyler.” She said slowly, they drugged her good and made her pretty dopey. She still could function intelligently but she tended to react less enthusiastically and with a mellower mood. Basically they turned her into a pot head. He was inside her body where vacuum excavation of sand uncovered lesser rusted areas, some areas with manipulators, and he was in one of those rooms talking to her. He was well aware of her state and that she is still her but diluted, she’ll remember every bit of this and he decided to confess to her there and then. Just so there’s no overreaction about it to either end of the scale.

“Nagato, I’ve been fascinated by you ever since I was a wee boy, just a kid in grade school, and I’ve grown a real fondness of you, a fondness not at all light-hearted. I love you, Nagato, and I really want to see you happy and alive again, and if you don’t love me than I’m alright with that. Please don’t let this change us, please don’t change because of this, but know that I’ll always be ready and willing to help you. With whatever you need.”

“Awwwe.”

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Awe come here!” She pulled him into a hug against a beam. “I love you, too, Tyler. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, either.” The way she talked to him convinced him that she didn’t understand he loved her more than a friend, that he would marry her if she loved him the same, but he didn’t mind this. He didn’t mind it a bit. She loved him like a friend, just like before, and he was happy she didn’t push him away.

When Tyler told Tobias of this later he said that Tyler was in the friend zone, but Tyler didn’t see it that way. He saw being in the friend zone as actively trying to date or marry someone, that’s not what he’s trying to do with Nagato. Tyler’s not wanting to marry or date Nagato, he is willing to propose if she feels the same about him but as far as he’s concerned they’re just close friends with deep concerns and compassion for each other. They aren’t lovers and while he would be her lover he doesn’t want to be her lover that bad, he loves her but will let her be happy with whoever makes her happy, whether that be himself, another man or woman or ship or whomever.

Because of her relative shallowness night operations were viable and high brightness illuminate lamps were shone down upon Nagato and enough light made it to her to give the impression of a clear night with a full moon and no water, but even with this headlamps were issued and only external work on the hull was done. Tyler did try to talk to her as much as possible but what with work taking up most of his time down and sleep and gear prep taking up the rest, he really found it hard to talk to her often. Still the end goal pushed him past this feeling of guilt and he worked hard and diligently. Nagato was constantly sedated by a crew every four hours that would come down and rub in gunk that they affectionately called “whale dope” because of its drug effect on the ship and initial use to drug whales caught in nets to free them. For ships what has to be done is get direct contact to the metal, so no rust, no algae, and no paint. So all up and down opposing sides of Nagato’s keel were bright silver slices about a foot long and three inches wide.the team would come down and expose these again and rub the gunk into her system. This kept her relaxed and stable during the work. In a week everything was ready, the hull had been sealed and compartmentalized, the area cleared, the sub-tugs in place, and the pumps ready to do their thing. The only thing left to do was get a final confirmation from Nagato and get the signal from ‘The Hand of God’ and that’s exactly what Tyler was doing.

“Are you ready, Nagato?” He asked anxiously with his hands on one of her 14 cm hull guns.

“I’m ready to go! Get me home, Tyler!”

“She’s ready! Affirmative action, affirmative action!” The phrase rolled off his tongue and sparked his excitement; he heard the pumps’ vibrations through the hoses and saw the hoses twitch with the changing pressures. He grasped the massive gun in his hands and brought himself close to it, pressing his exposed cheek against the metal for Nagato to feel his excitement, his abundance of excitement. He felt her grow warm and affectionate; it made him grow warmer, too. He realized just how long it’ll take just to dislodge her from the mud, it took Prinz Eugen an hour just to get free from the mud, Nagato was bigger, heavier, and much deeper in the mud than her. So he started sharing childhood stories with her, she would recall specific events and tell him some highlights of her life.

That was more than enough time to get Nagato unstuck and being righted as she went to the surface. He moved from the hull mounted gun to the conning tower, a few feet behind the second gun turret, and held onto the porthole where glass once was. This was where Nagato wrapped her arms around him again, this time they were from under the bridge’s chin and were sealed with mud and so they were nearly brand new. Her arms were exploratory but not too exploratory; they would trace the cables, cords, and wires from gear to gear and trace his limbs and body. He wasn’t upset by any of this; all she wanted was to get to know him more.

“Will I finally be able to see you?”

“Yeah, you’ll get eyes so you can see.” At around that time one of her arms trailed a little too high up the leg and met his groin. At first she was unsure what it was, being such a different feel compared to his calf, but she caught on and he felt her bridge faceplate grow hotter as she blushed. She instantly pulled away from that once she figured out what it was.

“Oh um, I’m sorry-”

“No no, it’s fine. You can touch it I don’t mind. Anywhere you’d like.” She instantly went back for it. At that moment his penis and testicles were cold and shriveled up because of the cold water, but as her relatively warm hand and tendril explored in the region mixed with the warmth from her blushing body they grew to about their normal size. Nagato was actually entwined in how they did that. She tried to push them back into their first form but they would grow back as soon as she let go. Tyler noticed how amused she was by his cock; the more she toyed the more he resisted the urge to let it grow big and bold. He tried his hardest but in the end natural reactions prevailed and his member started to grow. Again at first Nagato was puzzled by what was going on, trying to fight it back but once it became a stronger opponent she blushed even more and let it be.

“I-I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I tried not to let it happen.” They both became embarrassed, but Nagato wanted more, she wanted to feel how big he got and how hard he was but she was too doped out to get in the mood. She was too mellow to get horny enough. Deep down she wanted it but the motivation didn’t reach her arms. Oh well. They talked more about their past on the way up and before long Tyler had to break away and swim off of Nagato before she broke the surface. He tread water and watched her hull break the surface. Compared to her painting, the painting made her look right off the slipway. Her masts were folded over and her smokestack had flattened at the top until it was level with the majority superstructure aft and forward of it, her midsection looked like a mess of steel toothpicks and crumpled paper balled up. Her gun turrets stayed firm and locked her anti air armament was littered everywhere. The impact dislodged the smaller caliber guns and dropped them to the floor along with various crane and aircraft handling equipment. Her spotlights were all shattered and strewn about while the support beams for the mast looked like bendy straws. She was blinded by the nuclear bombs when her delicate eye-glass was shattered, easily curable unlike human blindness, but her mouth was still intact and still shark-toothed. When she felt the crisp air flow past her again it made her smile, and the soulless sockets of shattered glass mixed with the rust and shark grin spooked and creeped many people out-including Tyler. He quickly broke his gaze away and returned to work. Nagato was towed first to an Indonesian island port for fuel transfers from her fuel tanks and to refuel the two supporting ships. Nagato arrived at her new slipway just by Campbelltown shortly after where work began on her restoration. It was more than just restoration work, however.

There was a team of six people with radiation measurement gear and probes and sampling lab kits, they were touring around the whole ship pricking and prodding and scraping and sampling. They seemed impressed with the readings but not surprised. After a few days Nagato’s body functions adjusted to life without being flooded and she could speak again, Tyler anxiously stood on her forecastle deck waiting for her to speak.

“ねぇ、タイラー、やっと緒に話せるね!” Tyler’s huge grin turned into a scowl.

“You don’t know English, do you?” He muttered, she, too, heard the other but understood nothing.

“糞、母国語が違うんだ!”

“I think we should stick to this for now.” Tyler said mentally.

“I guess we have to.” She responded, after a pause she chuckled aloud. “What were we expecting?”

“Like how we knew each other for years and never bothered to actually talk?”

“No,” she laughed louder, “neither of us cared to ask.”

“I guess that’s a little funny.” The next day her window frames were set and the replacement eye-glass was put into place. They had to shock the window to boost its life to align with Nagato’s. She opened her eyes and looked around; they were a deep red, almost a burnt red. Tyler thought that was a strange color, she had to have chosen that color-she said she originally had brown eyes-when she was being interrogated for anything she wanted as far as modifications went. That really seemed to be her big request. She had another, but that one is much more sensitive and will take a longer time to fulfill.

Because the majority of Japanese battleships and battlecruisers are wholly British designs and replicas, much of Nagato’s bodily attributes are copies of British bodily attributes. British living ships-mostly female for tradition and temper-were examined and studied by Japanese engineers in their building and final states. This at first wasn’t a problem with Nagato or Fuso or Kongo, but when they were modernized their original genitals that were on the fantail were moved and enlarged for a more realistic use. This was the problem because when they were enlarged they were not set up to be properly cooled, and Nagato, Fuso, and Kongo especially suffered from very hot and irritating genitals. Their original genitals were fairly small and while they had no ability to cool other than in a very sexually active state-that wasn’t very efficient at that-they were small enough that not enough heat was generated to become displeasurable, when they were enlarged they became displeasurable. They found that occasionally they could open the covers for their slits and swish some sea water around to cool themselves off, and that’s what Nagato was doing when she met Tyler, cooling off. That was her only other serious issue that she demanded be fixed.

The day after her eye-glass was installed was a national holiday in Australia, so no one was working on Nagato. It was just Tyler and Nagato in the slip. Tyler was walking astern of her and on the dry dock floor, and since their ‘bonding’ she was much more open towards Tyler. She knew he was there but took the chance to cool off anyways, she didn’t have any seawater to use and the air wasn’t too useful but she took what she could get. It was at least something to her. Tyler was gawking at how absolutely massive she was, the crews had cleaned all the gunk off and now Tyler could see all of Nagato’s steel plating and vents and pump wells, everything was massive. Then he saw her in all her glory. He didn’t see how big her womanhood was when he was diving but in the light from the reflective water in the slipway he could see it was absolutely massive. It blew his mind with its size; the Japanese must have expected some very big warships to pop out of there.

“Hey Nagato, uh, are you trying something?”

“Trying to cool off. A hosing would be very nice.”

“I don’t think any hose could touch you, they aren’t big enough.”

“Please try? You have no idea how bad this is!” He tried anyway and it didn’t help, the hose didn’t even have enough pressure to reach her belly. She was going to really let her anger go and go on a long and tremendous rant on things that piss her off when she remembered one way that it could be helped-but she could never do it to herself well enough. Tyler did say he would make her comfortable, help her with whatever she needs. “Tyler.., I need something from you..,” her mood has swayed from an irritated desperation to a seductive luring. Tyler was completely thrown off.

“Uh, what?” He stammered, slightly confused.

“I need your compassion, your drive, I need your lust!”

“Nagato, what the fuck? Where the hell did this come from?”

“I need something to help cool off, please? I need some shit to get me going, I can’t push myself far enough to get all nice and cool.”

“But sex? Really?”

“I mean you can of fuck me whenever you want but I really need something now.” That subtly aroused Tyler.

“So.., how does sex help?”

“Just get me wet and that’ll help so much. Pleeaasssse???” She tried pulling her fantail slit apart with her many manipulators and tendrils for grooming/play/protection/etc to entice Tyler but it didn’t really help. Barely anything was showing through the dark slit. Tyler was still excited, his heart was racing and his mind was shooting off thoughts everywhere, should he take it? Should he just do enough or go all the way? Would it hurt their friendship? Would it boost their camaraderie?  She felt his excitement and she played with it, teasing him and luring him, and the closer he got the more excited she got. She had never been touched before but she has touched herself plenty, out of boredom and desperation, and the idea of not being the one to do it made her heart race and her mind shoot out thoughts. His long and time consuming trek to her conning tower boosted both of their teasing and lust, their loins felt like powerful electricity coursing through their genitals! This tension and excitement only made the actual foreplay much more exciting, gentle hands passing over the bodies, fingers trailing around, naughty deeds spoken and threats of violation accounted for. They surely were ready for a good long evening alone together. During the foreplay Nagato had only revealed the sex part at the base of her conning tower, and in the moved armored plate’s recess was a vulva nice and flush with the surrounding ‘skin’ but when they actually went to touch each other the vulva jutted out from the tower.

“What are you? A man or a woman?”

“I’m a woman! You’re looking right at my vagina, aren’t you?”

“Well,” he leaned side to side, examining a short and stubby shaft with a few pipes along side it, probably for cooling her of for other bodily needs but either way, “it looks like a penis, a short, fat, chode penis.” That made her laugh.

“Having some insecurity problems, Tyler?”

“Maybe..,” that made her laugh even more while the thought of her having a cock shut his stiffy down. He wanted to do it with her but he needed some help so he took his hand and touched her vulva. It was warm and soft to the touch, plush and malleable, it restarted his cock. He slid his middle and ring fingers up and down the lips, she quietly whimpered and squirmed, closing her eyes and gasping in air. The more effort Tyler put in the stronger Nagato reacted, as he increased her efforts her vaginal piece gently thrusted up and towards him and his caressing before it’d return to where it started, in revolutions.

This pattern continued for a little while before he started pushing his fingers into her vagina. He first just brushed in a little, testing the water, and when he was met only with a quick moan did he continue. He pushed in quickly and only until his mid-joint before whisking it out again and again. She reached with a hand to his and showed him how she liked it-deep. She pressed his hand against her skin forcing his fingers as deep as possible and he quickly caught on, he soon took over thrusting his fingers deep inside before drawing them back. During this Nagato felt amazing, like never before, better than if she did it herself, she just had to grab something to hold on to, and so she reached out and gripped his shirt while all around her hull she grabbed onto various objects like chains, cable, structures, gun barrels and the like. Her hand on his shirt sporadically would break off and grip his arm, or a leg, or his back, just trying to get a grip of him. Her whimpers, gasps, and whines told Tyler he was doing a good job and to keep it up while the soft metal flesh on his fingers broke way for his entry and didn’t hesitate to shut tight behind him as he left, her metal flesh was tenderly soaked and heated, encouraging his cock for a taste of it. His long member throbbed against his underpants and yearned to be released from its isolation, and so it was.

His free hand quickly undid his belt buckle and wrenched his pants off before he started stroking his throbbing cock to rub out the easy one. That was when he used that hand to grab her hand and wrap it around his cock, nice and firm, and started showing her how to rub his out. She was a fast learner and very soon had him moaning and shuddering as he fought to last forever. She had a full grip on his cock and was enjoying how hard and thick it was when all of a sudden she was hit with a massive orgasm. “Oh shit! Oh fuck!!” She moaned, both in Japanese aloud and in Tyler’s head.

Her grip on him was tight and he took over rubbing one out while she recouped from her orgasm, and she had done a pretty good job up till then; Tyler didn’t take very long to rub out the rest of it. He sprayed his cum onto the deck between his legs and squeezed up all he had, he was ready. Nagato thought that he was done, that she was cool enough and could make it until night to ‘freeze’ as much as possible but she was wrong. Suddenly she felt his cock against her lips stroking up and down collecting her juices. Once his head was nice and wet he found the opening and pushed into her soaking vagina. It felt even better around his cock than his fingers; slick and plush flesh breaking way for his entry and gripping his member as its throbbing made itself well known to Nagato. Every one of his long drawn thrusts made Nagato squirm, made her hot, made her lust for more! Their orgasms had multiplied their sensitivities and heightened the pleasure to extraordinary levels, neither of them had gone this far for pleasure, and neither of them were going to stop here.

Nagato’s arms more intensely grabbed and gripped Tyler and they began tearing his shirt and leaving marks on his arms. She had lashed around his back and kept him pressed against her conning tower while he worked her over. His loving thrusts and penetrations makes her tongue slip and constantly she mutters things under her breath in between moans and yelps. He didn’t know what she was saying because she wasn’t sounding in his head consistently, but even with the language barrier he knew she was loving and enjoying this. He then tried to focus on his enjoyment, he almost transcended to another world when he did so, because his hormones were so lively and enthralling. Not only did it all feel so good and lustrous but also right and belonging, he didn’t feel like this was just a favor, no, but rather something deserved and wanted; like it was something they needed. That seemed to blow every feeling sky high, indescribable and unsurpassable. He felt his ecstasy rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall periodically like he was coming closer to orgasm but never quite reached it while Nagato was almost the opposite.

For her she knew that this was right, it was needed, that sex with Tyler was a must. Ever since being hopped up on drugs and releasing their feelings she knew this was inevitable and that she would be longing for the right moment-and her longing and patience provided her with the sweetest fruit. She was in a state almost identical to Tyler’s but rather she was achieving orgasms, very many orgasms, every time she felt him about to cum she would beat him to it and thus her tightening hold on him would disappear and he’d cool off. Every time she came she did transcend into another world for a while, a world where her whole body was enthralled and saturated with the hormones and the sensual feelings that Tyler was providing, she would have appeared to be stoned above cloud nine to someone watching but to her it was all in good cause. She would return to her relative normal state about three quarters ready for another orgasm and it was only after about twenty times did she realize that he wasn’t getting this high and needed some help. So she tried as hard as she could to keep a very tight hold on him so he could get off and after a few tries that is exactly what happened.

Tyler’s second orgasm hit him like a freight train. He jerked out of Nagato and came like a shotgun onto her vulva while he slumped over her massive tendril and drooled onto her conning tower. For a good seven or eight minutes he seemed drugged out and stoned like Nagato did when she would cum, but unlike Nagato he was down for the count. It was only after he came to did they realize the moon had replaced the sun and that they had been at it for nearly two and a half hours. In the moonlight he looked upon Nagato’s vulva and saw how covered she was in his semen. It was all over the face of the tendril in glops and sone were strung to each other and two thick strands were still on his oozing cock. He then noticed that her whole tendril face was wet with her coolant and that it left a wet and warm imprint on his crotch, while the front of his balls and inner thighs were also covered in it, too. It was very warm and enjoyable. Nagato felt his hot steamy cum all over her crotch and it made her mellow and gleeful, warming her as well. Her tendrils seemed to have minds of their own as they explored Tyler’s hot, naked, and sweaty body. Wrapping around and gripping thighs, biceps, pecs, calfs, forearms, abs, his jaw, his hair, and stroking his ear as she mellowed out and just relaxed. He felt so nice in her arms; his constant and steady breathing with his slowing heartbeat really made her feel homely and loved. She felt tired and she could feel how Tyler’s body was relaxing; he, too, was tired and both were falling asleep.

“That was amazing, Tyler, that was amazing.” Tyler let out a long drawn groan before he responded.

“Did that help? Are you better now?” Her arms wrapped around Tyler and held him tightly.

“Oh I’ve never felt so good before! You’re all I’ve ever wanted!” That made him feel special, made him feel even better than he did. “I knew you loved me, too, sweetie. All I ever wanted to be my man.” That caught him off guard.

“Wait, I’m your man? Like relationship marriage man?” She was confused.

“Did you think we were something else? I thought you knew since I was being raised.” He admitted he didn’t think she saw him like that. “Oh no, Tyler, you are all I want to be mine, you’re kind and caring, helpful and lively, and good at sex. That’s all I wanted, simple, yes, and you exceed in all of them-” a tendril slithered down to his flaccid shaft and held it in a coil, “some more than the others.”

“I can’t be perfect, what’s wrong with me?”

“Well, you could be more assertive. You’re too much of a yes man, tell me no. You are daddy after all.” That got Tyler thinking as he fell asleep in her arms, bundled up and snug against her tower.

Every night they were alone they had sex and every night Tyler became more dominant, yet every so often they would have sex more like the first night. Sex that was long, smooth, relaxing, and seemingly drug-induced. As Tyler became more and more dominant Nagato became more and more clingy during sex, and she began leaving cuts and scrapes on his back and arms. He never feels the pain at the moment it happens but it concerns him how she is cutting him-it isn’t very deep or anything but it’s still cuts. This went on and Tyler began noticing strange differences in his body.

His veins had started turning grey, and his finger and toe nails also began changing color, his stomach and guts would sporadically begin hurting and cramping. He would have fevers and aching limbs at times but it would pass and he would feel great, better than before. As it progressed more and more and his skin began turning grey he worriedly visited the doctor. The doctor had no explanation; he visited others who had no reason for it. It was when he visited the doctor that examined Nagato did he get his answer. “To put it simply, Tyler, you’re mutating.” He was dumbfounded. “We’ve seen this before, but that was in a more controlled environment and with many enzymes accelerating it. At the stable level, the life bearing metal and its alloys are very passive, almost submissive, but when agitated, or in this case radiated, it turns very aggressive and bonds with carbon-based matter. In extreme cases it can break through the stability of other metal alloys, but this is very energy consuming and taxing on the life-metal. Radiated life-metal in particular is weak-aggressive. To put it short your interaction with Nagato and her bodily fluids is seeping into your body and bonding with your flesh. You’re transmutating into a humorph where normally she would have to transform you.”

“So, what’s gonna happen to me?”

“We don’t know for sure, yet. So far nothing life-threatening. Your friend Tobias is going through the same changes with Prinz Eugen. The bomb testings must have destabilized Nagato and Prinz Eugen and caused them to be radiated, and their bodily fluids more aggressive than normal.”

A few more months passed and Nagato had been launched, she had in that time been fixed on what media there was about her and she had been acting very strangely. She had been demanding flesh foods like beef, pork, poultry, and fish, as well as some various metals to consume. It worried Tyler that he might soon be a father but nine months passed and nothing happened. In those months Nagato gained contact with Yamato over the radio and neither of them stopped talking for a week. After a year of pregnancy syndromes, in the night, Nagato wasn’t herself, and this worried Tyler greatly. As he was walking along the deck he spotted a slick figure climbing aboard the fantail. At first Tyler was concerned, who broke into the docks? After a few alternatives going through his head he felt that it was a curious swimmer from across the bay. It’s a lengthy swim but doable, and from the silhouette in the moonlight she certainly looked fit enough. He grew comfortable with the situation and approached the woman on the lower deck. “Hey!” He called as he transcended the ladder, “you’re not supposed to be here on the ship, y’know.” Quickly the figure turned to him and retorted.

“I am the ship.” The voice and eyes peering at him made him slip and fall on his ass.

“What the fuck?” She sounded exactly like Nagato, only without the booming echo her voice had. “Who are you!?”

“Tyler, it’s me, Nagato, can’t you see?”

“No, no not at all!” She approached him and in the moonlight he could see she was entirely naked and in her hair there was the silver fluid Nagato had inside her, Tyler was bewildered and lost. “Stop! Stop right there!” Nagato’s arms from the nearby turret reached down and held him against her barbette.

“Tyler, it’s me. It really is me.” He heard this in his head, but it echoed twice, not the booming echo but like twins were speaking in unison. His head hurt and his body shivered.

“What the fuck?”

“I made me, a little me, a human me.”

“H-How? Why?”

“I don’t know how, but the more we made love the more I felt human, the more I felt like I could be human.”

“How did she happen?”

“I wanted it, I wanted to be human, so I made me like a baby, but I’m full grown.” The way Nagato explained that was between speaking through Tyler’s head and Nagato, the human. Tyler had a panic attack before he passed out. Nagato helped herself carry him inside to where he slept and spread him out on his bed to let him rest easy. Nagato watched him sleep comfortably in the bed, she decided to climb in with him; this is where her new body flailed around trying to work the sheets. She was still learning how to walk and move, as well as most other bodily functions. She eventually found her way under the bed sheets and cuddled against Tyler; she didn’t want to move, she didn’t want to leave his side, and she felt very warm under the covers. This is when she told Tyler why she did this through his subconscious. “You said you thought you’d marry a woman that liked to cook in just an apron and try all sorts of new foods, I want to make that dream real like you’ve made mine.”

Fin

 

Nagato and Prinz Eugen are much like Ratbat’s living machines, their bodily life metal is aggressive, not as aggressive as forced adaption but will naturally take over a flesh body. Ask your questions in the comments! I still check the site daily.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , ,

HaM Ch 48

Ch 48

Major Cahrmicheal looked at the Henschel & Sohn headquarters in Kassel. The war had touched it but not ruined it, and being the headquarters where Germany’s most feared tanks were put on paper he was surprised that it still stood; all other buildings similar to this were flattened to keep German technology from the Americans. The army had already claimed the records and designs in the files and such, but anything incomplete and/or on the desks were free reign. The major watched G.I. after G.I, go by with drafting cases, tubes with drawings inside, and read their names carefully. Until one of them caught his attention; he recognized it from one of the breathers’ conversations.

 

PANTHER II AUSF. F TURM

 

“Hey, you!” He yelled and grabbed the G.I.’s arm. “I want that drawing.” The soldier looked into his eyes a little pissed off.

“No, I found it, it’s mine!” He had a harsh Brooklyn accent.

“I’ll buy it off of you.”

“Really? Sorry but I ain’t selling.” He started past the major.

“Two hundred dollars.” He stopped and went wide eyed. He turned over his shoulder and looked the major in the eye.

“Cash?” The major produced a roll of twenties from his inner jacket pocket.

“Washington mint.” The soldier had never seen that much money in one place before in his life. He spun around and instantly traded the drawing for ten twenty dollar bills. The soldier walked off, gawking at the money in his hand, the Major took the tube to his jeep and opened it; he took the rolled blueprints out and unraveled them. The corporal sitting in the driver’s seat looked on as the major spread the drawings out on the hood. “Corporal Smithers, you can ready the jeep. We can go back, now.”

“So, we came all the way out here for a Nazi drawing?”

“It looks like it,” he started while rolling up the drawings carefully, satisfied with their quality, “but these drawings are going to give us the edge in armor for the future.” The major sat in the jeep as they drove off to France, to the rally point of his unit, while he thought of the future. His family, specifically him, owned an auto factory, and since the start of the war his factory had been making hundreds of Sherman hulls each month. He wanted to see them in action so he wiggled his way in to the Army and at first was very satisfied with the Sherman in Africa, but saw how rapidly they were outclassed in combating armor and from there became fascinated with the complex German engineering. That Panther he bought from Patton was his prize, he’s going to study it back in America, study the drawings, he and his peers are going to adjust the faults for making a truly remarkable tank. They’re going to blend the excellent reliability of American tanks with the capability of the German advanced engineering and quality, emphasize crew survivability and comfort. Designs bounced all around his head already, this grizzled thirty year old man could barely contain his excitement as if he were a child.

 

They reunited with the unit at a French town, where the rest of Patton’s breathers from Bastogne and the front finally were reunited again. Along with them were Adler and Thirty-Four, who snuck over because she didn’t want Adler to grow up all alone with no peers, and as well as Shellproof. She made it seem that she was reluctant to go but really she liked Adam, she wanted to stay with him. Sneaking over really wasn’t hard, the two massive armies had pitched tents all over the place and one couldn’t separate what was American and what was Russian. The main problem was that in order to talk to them about anything Kramia, Mini, or Griffen (whom Thirty-Four was suspicious of until she thoroughly interrogated him) had to be there to translate. If they were stuck together that wouldn’t be a problem, but Shellproof and Thirty-Four tended to separate at random, Thirty-Four to be with Adler and his friends and Shellproof to talk to Adam and Kramia, sometimes the German tanks. When Thirty-Four first saw Tiger she was very very upset but once Thirty-Four found out Tiger was female it completely changed her relationship with Tiger, they were friends right off the bat. When Hansel arrived he met a very excited Joshua and was thus persuaded to follow him.

Hansel followed him through the town that nobody knew how to pronounce, he remembered walking these same streets when he met Marion. He didn’t remember leaving anything, they hurriedly left but they had gathered their things beforehand so all they really left were burning tanks- they weren’t there anymore. Hansel was led by Joshua to an old lady, she seemed familiar and she was, she was the same lady that gave Hansel the directions to the post office. “Oh!” She exclaimed, “is that really little Hansel? Little Hansel Walter?”

“Yes aunt Madalyne!” He nodded; he turned to Hansel then, “Hansel, we’re cousins!”

“What?” Hansel was confused. “How?”

“Hansel, I’m your aunt Madalyne, the last time I saw you it was your third birthday! I’m you mother’s cousin, and sister to Joshua’s mom.” Hansel’s mind was blown. So while they explored the family tree Marion was with Cindy, crushing spent shells for her to eat. As Cindy finished off one of the shells a captain came up and instructed Marion and Cindy to follow him. Marion took Cindy’s hand and followed the captain out into the fields where Marion ambushed the Sherman column; they waited and soon, over the top of the hill where Marion once laid in wait, came two tanks. They had rounded top turrets and rounded top turrets, she couldn’t see well what with the sun in her eyes but Cindy instantly recognized the tanks. She broke contact from Marion’s hands and drove, drove as fast as she could, kicking on her engine and flooring it. The two Shermans at the hill came halfway and turned together as Cindy collided into them, bawling tears of joy. Cindy’s parents were alive. Marion felt something inside her stir, and no it wasn’t jealousy or anything of the like, she felt a warm spot in her ‘heart’ the way she felt around Hansel after he was away for the day or night. She managed without Hansel but still felt alone, lonely, like she wasn’t complete; it made her fear what Cindy felt every day without her parents. A truly remarkable moment in her life.

The captain asked Marion if she could wait for them a take them back to where the breathers were while he went to go file their statements and logs. She agreed and waited, she saw on the parents a few shot holes, and also a few squares, they were all silver-gray like Cindy’s wound earlier. She watched the family rejoice and cheer, hug and kiss, cry and sniffle. Marion watched it all and she couldn’t stop watching, it really was beautiful, Cindy had been without her parents for over a year now and she couldn’t stop herself, nobody would have or could have stopped her. Nobody could stop her blind rush, her constant crying, her constant hold, her constant “I missed you”s, nobody could but nobody would. Marion sat there waiting on them for an eternity and she didn’t mind it at all. After the initial surge of joy passed them, Cindy asked her mom and dad to meet someone who had taken care of her while they were gone, they agreed and Cindy immediately pointed back to Marion, assuring them that she was nice and friendly. Cindy waved to Marion to come over; Marion had a stroke of shyness yet again. She forced herself into a gear while Cindy grabbed her parents’ hands and drug them along. As much as they’d like to meet each other they both were scared of the other.

“Marion! It’s mom and dad!” Cindy didn’t care about the tension; she was too careless and excited to do so. “Say hi! She won’t hurt you!” They four had grouped together, while with the massive size different coupled with Cindy’s persistence did help Marion feel better, she could see that her parents were still terrified of Marion.

“He-llo?” Marion asked before forcing herself to smile.

“She’s a King Tiger! Well, Hansel calls her a Queen Tiger but everyone else calls her a Royal Tiger. Isn’t she big?”

“Yeah,” the father said, “she’s big.” He sounded a little parched.

“Well, I’m Rudy, and this is Ruffles.” The mother said finally. “And you’re Marion?”

“Yes, I’m Marion.”

“There are lots of others, too! Like Fritz, and Jäger! Mini and Kramia! Rosa, Frau, Hetz, Griffin, and Faust! And there’s still Zwei and Tiger, but we also have Katelyn and Chuck! Oh and Skip! She’s cool! We also have Kitty, Tiffany, Anna and Susan and the Hummel twins, Dora, and Ferdi and Porsche! And they’re all alive like us! Isn’t that cool!” Before anyone could talk more Cindy egged them to go to the base. Marion showed them the way home.

Fin Ch 48

 

This is going to be it for a while, and it kinda has been late already but that’s because of German Battleships being added to WoWS and they’re fun and I got the next Japanese ship in my way of the Yamato and she’s fun so yeah. I’ve been busy. And the next little bit I put out will be of one of the new ships I’ve acquired.., go on and guess which one it will be.

Filed under Gingyflame, Stories · Tagged with , ,

HaM Ch 47

Ch 47

“Shellproof, I don’t trust that American.” Thirty-Four had gotten Adler to sleep and was talking to Shellproof about Adam. “I’ve never met an American before but he is not American. He seems off to me.”

“I think you’re just paranoid, Thirty-Four. The radio messages aren’t the best quality, they might all sound like him.”

“It wasn’t just his voice, Shell, he was just awkward. His speech was awkward.”

“He is a little man talking to big tanks.” Thirty-Four didn’t seem to get the point. “I know how terrified you were when it happened, he probably felt as terrified.”

“Oh he looked just fine around you, though, I was never that comfortable.”

“Because I wasn’t staring him down like a wolf! You scared him so much he couldn’t act right. Believe me once he warmed up to me he was a lot better with his speech.”

“I still don’t believe you, Shell.” They continued through the night, neither needing to sleep. Sometime just before dawn Thirty-Four changed the subject. “Shellproof, what do you think the Americans will do with the German prisoners?” Shellproof thought about it.

“I don’t know but I think they’ll be kind to them.” There was a pause between them. “Why do you ask?”

“That ball Adler had, two German soldiers gave it to him before we were found. I scared them off; I feared for Adler and was angry at the Germans anyhow. I found them yesterday; they were badly injured and were prisoners. I went after Adler and watched him play with them, after I sent Adler away I approached them-they were terrified of me-and I gave them the ball back, and I thanked them for it. I left right after that.”

“You seem to have changed your position, you know that?”

“I did, I don’t have that hate, that desire to murder every single one of them, that’s all gone now. I have changed.”

“When did this happen? You didn’t turn soft did you?”

“No, I still wanted to kill the invaders-but, we won. That desire is gone, too. We killed them, we took their land, and now we are in their capital doing whatever we want.” She looked to Adler, fast asleep. “I think he’s rubbing off on me.”

“How so?”

“He never saw why we were invading their land. He didn’t have a problem with the Germans like we did, he thought them as people while I thought them as rats. I think them as people now.”

“Adam told me that his general has a bunch of ‘breathers’ as they call us. He said they have German tanks, too, and that they have families, and kids. They’re about Adler’s age, maybe tomorrow you could take Adler to meet and play with them.” Thirty-Four thought about it.

“I think I will.”

The following morning she got Adler his breakfast and took him to the river while he ate it. She waited there with Adler, washing some filth off of him while he sat in the water mesmerized by it. He mostly picked up the muck at the bottom and brought it to the surface to examine it. Thirty-Four cleaned out grass, twigs, stones, and dirt from between his treads and wheels and cleaned his face and body. After he was finished she decided to clean herself, too. Carefully she measured how deep her treads sank in the river while cleaning herself the same way she cleaned Adler. She tenderly rubbed her shot wound until it shone like polished silver and cleaned out her parts-genitals included-after three years of grime. She had cleaned her body and hoped for a way to clean her and Adler’s engine when she caught two tanks from the corner of her eye. She instantly knew they were kids, one was a Panzer and the other was a Sherman, like the American made tanks that the Russians used, but both were only two-thirds the size. Just like Adler. The Panzer waved, Adler waved back excited. She said he should go over to them and introduce himself, she didn’t expect him to lurch forward through the river. Her instincts kicked in and her terrified body lurched after him, holding him tightly as he wadded across. Thankfully the river wasn’t deep here and Adler made it across, and she was able to back out of the river harmlessly. She sat across the channel watching her son talk to the two child tanks. It looked like the two tanks instantly accepted Adler into their group. She smiled, her son had made friends. She watched them talk and play, they were showing off their engine power by pushing each other, and felt a desire to have had her own childhood.

She watched Adler and the Sherman play, then the Sherman led Adler and the Panzer off away from the riverbank, what she saw next made her jump and her skin crawl. The Sherman went right up to a huge German Tiger 2 tank. Thirty-Four’s heart raced as she threw caution to the wind and hurtled across the river. She powered her way up the bank and raced to Adler but he and the other tanks were already introduced to the Tiger 2 and were now playing a game in the dirt. She listened in to the conversation that the Tiger was having with the circle of Americans. Hansel and Marion were huddled together in a circle of other tanks and tankers, talking about stories and feats they’d had. A rough voiced man in his early forties asked Hansel what he did with the Americans, being a former German army soldier.

“Well, Marion and I at first were just heavy lifters, but eventually they pulled us up front because I speak English and German and because Marion’s, well, a tiger. We’d have a big horn on here and either myself or the loader, Meats, would try to convince the town ahead of us to surrender. We’d try that but it really never worked. And one day we got ourselves a new platoon leader, this guy was a kid. Poor kid still had pimples on his face, smooth face because he probably couldn’t grow face hair. Anyway so Marion’s in the middle, we’re lined up abreast with Shermans here and there, a bunch of infantry squatting behind us, and all the commanders, even me, are hunkered in our hatches except the P-L. We tried getting him down but he didn’t listen. So he’s standing up in his hatch while I’m talking through the speaker and then there’s a flash in a window just before the kid starts screaming following a rifle’s crack. He’d been shot in the left cheek and his whole left jaw had been shattered and broken. He screamed his head off and kicked and squirmed and threw himself all around. We all pumped some shots into the building with the sniper in it while the infantry pulled that kid behind the tank. I’ll never forget what the sergeant said because it’s exactly what my first ever sergeant said in Russia. He said ‘that was short lived,’ and off we went under his command. That town had nothing but riflemen and a machine gun, just a squad or two.” Thirty-Four listened attentively.

“Why are you here, tiger?” She asked in Russian. Marion shifted to look at Thirty-Four, confused and pleasantly surprised. Marion didn’t know Russian so she tried English, Thirty-Four didn’t understand a word. Adler tried to speak for his mother in German but he didn’t have enough vocabulary to translate beyond an introduction. While the two women quite easily recognized the other as females that was all they could discern. Marion called for Kramia because nobody around could translate between English, German, and Russian. Once she had scooted up with Mini’s assistance she first talked to Thirty-Four.

“How are you here?” Thirty-Four asked Kramia in surprise.

“I was absorbed into the Wehrmacht and then into the American army. How was the Red Army?”

“We triumphed! When were you lost? What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean!? You have a tiger gun! You’re pregnant! What did those rats do to you?!” Kramia was confused.

“Rats?”

“The Nazi cowards! Rats! They took you and maimed you! Raped you!” Kramia was now upset.

“What? No! I deserted! How could you work with such heathens?!”

“YOU DESERTED!?!” At this point everyone knew something was up, Marion carefully picked up a round and put it in the loading tray. Hansel ducked into the cupola, the Americans did the same. Marion started pulling Geoff and Cindy around her stern. “I should shoot you!”

“What else would I have done? I just watched my crew rape and kill a Russian girl! I’ve never seen a German rape and kill a German girl! They abused and used me, treated me like shit, so I left! Russia had given me nothing but pain and hate, cruelty and confusion! Of course I left!” At this point Mini inserted himself between his wife and Thirty-Four.

“Who is this? Your rapist? Saving his sex slave!?”

“No,” Mini said, he looked to the child T-34 and figured that maybe it wasn’t legitimate, “I’m sorry, but we’re not all bad.” He looked to both girls, “neither side.” That devotion that Mini showed to Kramia, standing in front of her to keep a fight from breaking out, that little bit of devotion hurt Thirty-Four’s feelings. She felt a wave of depression overcome her while a deep rage grew and festered. She wondered if she wasn’t good enough for the Tiger to stay, what could’ve been if he stayed with her, flocked to her army or took her to his, she wondered if he didn’t rape her but seek a companionship with her. These questions of what life would be if Adler had a loving father shook her. Adler came up to her side and was grabbing her wheels and treads. She looked down to him, his little waist belts connecting his wheels together and his beading eyes made her smile.

“Don’t fight, mama, please don’t fight.” She put a hand on his cupola and rubbed it, a grin coming over her face.

“I won’t, Adler, baby, I won’t fight. Why don’t you ask them for a ball and show your friends how to play catch in the field over there?” He asked Mini and Mini got him a ball from an American. Adler took the kids away and they played catch.

“Are we calm now?” Mini asked, still lodged between them, they nodded. “Good, why don’t we get to know each other before we rip our gears out?” They agreed and traded stories, everybody else had relaxed a little but were still tense. Thirty-Four and Kramia had relaxed and forgiven each other, seeing the other’s reasons. After that Thirty-Four asked why all the German tanks were here, not just about Marion.

“So is she SS?” Thirty asked, Kramia answered no without translating to Marion. “So why does she have that on her gun?” She pointed to the black Tiger 2 tank silhouette painted as a break in the black kill stripe on her barrel, inside the black tiger was the emblem for the SS, two white lightning bolts.

“Marion, she wants to know why that’s there.” Kramia said to Marion, mentioning the special kill stripe.

“I have that for killing an SS tiger.” Kramia told Thirty, she asked if it was a living Tiger I with excitement. “No, it was a dead metal Tiger II.” When Kramia replied to Thirty, she slumped.

“With a bastard like that we probably got him, we probably got him good.” Kramia tried to lift up Thirty-Four’s spirit. Mini nodded in agreement.

“What if Adler asks about him?”

“What do you mean?”

“He asks where does he come from and I try my best to avoid it, but he’s smart, what do I say when he keeps asking? Who do I say his father is when I teach him about children? How do I tell my son that he’s a bastard?” She started to break down crying, Kramia brought her into a hug for comfort. “Kramia,”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re in for a world of hell when you give birth.” That sparked her interest.

“Where will it come out?”

“The same place it went in.” Kramia’s belly and stern turned cold and ached.

Fin Ch 47