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.
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.
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.
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.”
“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
“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.”
“The American ship in Pearl? No.”
“Nope. But you were close with the starting letter.”
“Nope, but she’s a battleship.”
“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.”
“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?”
“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.”
“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-”
“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.”
“No.” She paused and sort of whimpered.
“America?” She said with a depressed draw.
“No.” Nagato was confused.
“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?”
“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.”
“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.
“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.”
“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.
“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.”
“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.”
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.
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.
“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.”
“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.
“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
Cybran ACU “Lynda”
UEF Commander F. Cole
Of all the tasks assigned to Cole, this was his least favorite. From cleaning out shit ruts to being the general’s bitch he got some pretty demeaning duties. Even as UEF commander, an honorable position, he still got the dead rock planets or the over populated adjutant of a snobbish has-been. At times he felt like AWOLing the UEF and living a normal life but never has he felt too strongly until he was sitting in the commander’s seat of a chip-head ACU. Since the end of the ‘war’ between the factions, that turned out to be the result of one psycho chip-head, the three involved factions decided that in order to improve relationships a mutual arms treaty was needed, and included was the sharing of technology, weapons, and research. In a show of trust the Cybran nation constructed a special fit and color pattern: a black base color and purple highlights for the mix of Cybran red and UEF blue, and with Cole’s luck he is in command of it.
“Finally I get a job that isn’t sucking dick or sucks dick and I get the chip-head toy.” He was trying to get the controls down on the training course. “No let’s not investigate their weaponry! Let’s only give a damn about their research and technology and not study the center piece ACU! Let’s give it to Cole!”
“What sent you down the drain?” A female voice in the cockpit sounded. Cole strained around the tight space made tighter by his bulky armor to find an A.I. display.
“Well they did say this one was special, it has a self-conscious A.I.”
“I’m not some artificial programming; I’m as alive as you!” She had an attitude similar to Cole’s.
“Alright ACU, if you’re alive what’s your name?” He asked quiet ticked off, nothing was going his way at all.
“Lynda, I’m Lynda. Don’t think I’m some preppy machine girl like most others out there.”
“You were built as a gift, what threat could you actually possess? I’m not a happy guy right now seeing how all my training was for fucking nothing!”
“First off I’m no gift! I was built a decade ago by Dr. Brackman for tests! I was placed in reserve after three months until last week.., that’s when I moved to you people.”
“Hmm, looks like we both were thrown down the shit hole then.”
“It seems so.” They calmed down slowly after that, back to their normal and charismatic selves. Lynda began teaching Cole how to work her using her internal claws to show him, he taught her some slang that the UEF uses for commands. The Cybran are cyborg creations and spawns of Dr. Brackman, a disembodied super genius that spawns these cyborgs to do studies, control database networks, protect the areas of interest, and revere the Dr. as their father and thus he reveres them as his children. The thing is with their cybernetic changes they usually hook up the nervous system into the ACU for hyper communication, Cole wasn’t a fan of becoming a chip-head. Eventually Lynda even showed him some of her personal adjustments the Dr. made to her as a living being; her two massive cannon arms can slide the weapons back and extend in place a claw hand of good size, also the limited ability to have pupils on the sensor lenses, but through her own modification she was able to turn the two purple marks on her face into eye sockets and then into full blown eyes before she veiled them in armored sensors for protection. Even though she is intellectually advanced she still hasn’t worked out all the kinks yet and while practicing the Hunker safeguard tactic her protective covers fell out of place while looking down.
“Ah! Holy shit that’s bright!” When the covers fell off the very bright shield that surrounds Lynda went through her eyes and into the cabin, usually the covers filtered the light down.
“Ah fuck me!” She swore, she’d thought she fixed that problem before.
“On the first date? Well I thought I was a horny little fucker.” She snickered at his jest.
“Whoa, who said this was a date now?” She replied as she clenched her eyes shut, it hurt her eyes, too.
“Well today has a date on it, and a title. Today is training session day, and I think that’s enough for one day.” Lynda stood up from her crouching Hunker mode and deactivated the shield. “Actually one more thing, every UEF ACU has a manual escape hatch, do you have one?”
“Yes but the command pod needs to be detached to do so, so I’m not going to show you where.” He shrugged and pressed a button to get him out with the armor’s teleporting ability. He stood on the ground and looked at her again, this time with compassion and camaraderie. He saw her eyes were purple, too, and had a beautiful whiter outline of her tall pupil making her look like an attractive predator.
“You should leave those covers off, Lynda, your eyes are gorgeous. You said you made them yourself?”
“Do you think so? I did make them but, I’ve thought about leaving them off but they’ll never be off my body. Too risky without them.” She looked over his body for a returning compliment but his armor was too bulky to comment on what men like to be complemented on; muscles. “You know the Cybran armor suit isn’t as bulky and serve the user better. I have an extra one but some points of it may poke in a bit. And for comfort reasons you’d need to shave everything.” She sat down; it didn’t seem that Cole was done talking to her yet.
“Well I was just about to say that you have your own personal gantry I was supposed to leave you in, I haven’t been but it is right down passage B-thirty-two and you are gantry B-three-two-oh-four. It’s on the left.” He turned to leave but Lynda stopped him.
“Care to join me?” He stopped.
“Well there is a quick passage to the barracks, sure I’ll join you.” She carried him as she walked along the painted areas looking for her gantry. They talked about likes and dislikes, turn ons and offs, any sweethearts or one night stands, and furthered their relationship even more. After a few more days of training the two were like peas in a pod and, as she normally would, Lynda invited Cole to her gantry. He accepted blindly.
“I should’ve tried this chip head armor a long time ago. This is a lot better than that UEF clunker.”
“Glad you liked it. You feel better, too.” An internal tendril ran its way up his leg to his inner thigh and rubbed it convincingly. He smirked knowing that this’d happen sooner or later.
“A little bit adventurous, are we now?”
“Haven’t we always been?” She felt all around his body through his slim armored suit and licked her lips in anticipation. With the Cybran suit on she could feel his chiseled pecs and muscular body, her mind raced with excitement and her nether regions began preparing a warm welcome.
“So uh, how’re we gonna do this?”
“You’re in for a good surprise, Cole.” She opened the huge gantry doors and shut them quickly behind her, using her rotating abdomen to keep a grip on the door. She shit the door and spun around facing forward, her large bed was right in front of her, ready for its greatest test. She stepped up to her bed and knelt down into it, rolling over while using a tendril to tease herself all the while teasing Cole with a suggestive rubbing.
While Cole was sitting comfortably in the chair and enjoying a much deserved caress he still worried about the size difference, she was, after all, only 43 meters tall. He’s only about two meters tall. It still frightened him no matter how much she reassured him. He felt the Gs as she embraced her bed and the two gravities pulling him from the artificial generator Lynda has and the planet’s own natural gravity, he knew the moment of truth was soon to happen. He was both anxious and nervous, if it’s scaled to her then he literally could fall in and she’s might not feel it, but if she is scaled to him, she’s in for the ride of her life.
After a few minutes of sensual rubbing Lynda announced she could stand it no more and she needed him inside her. Instantly she teleported him between her legs, he flashed in and was met by her armored body that looked a little moist, he noticed smaller tendril arms circling her slit. He was astonished, amongst this massive machine, with a crotch bigger than him; it had a vagina that’s tight for him. “Please Cole, I need this! I’m ready, fuck me!” He went to grab his Johnson but instead grabbed a handful of crotch armor; problem is that he doesn’t know how to open it.
“Hey babe, imma need you to.., open me.” She had four tendrils from her legs reach out and pull him close to undress him completely. She said to hell with the cock piece and took it all off. Now she had him nude and true, no bulky armor, no strong metal chunks, just his sexy slick skin. She grabbed at his dense muscles and held his manhood, exciting her to higher levels than ever before. She clenched her purple eyes shut and imagined naughty things about to be done to her and squirmed with anticipation.
Cole was pressed against her hot body, her body definitely felt ready on the outside, and she was holding and grabbing him with much enthusiasm, it pushed him into wanting her more. He stroked her lips with the tip of his cock feeling how she moved around him. The tenderness of her genitals enthralled him and sent shivers of pleasure through both of them, astonished about each other’s composition.
“Enough fucking tease! I want you deep inside me, baby!” He wanted to rebuttal with the argument of ‘it feels good’ but he threw that away and plunged into her, quivering with her in sexual pleasure. She was hot and wet, soft and plush, sexy and perfect. Her insides easily gave way to his manly presence and held on as he retreated; he humped her good and drove her into a rocking motion as she recoiled against his thrusts. Her moaning grew from under her breath to a loud and proud thunder; his moaning paled in comparison but was equally pleasurable. He slid in and out gracefully and repeatedly, unable to bring himself to stop and unwilling if he could.
As he felt his orgasm rising he gave no fucks, but the quivers that ran up his spine increasingly caused him to convulse and as the tension built into his orgasm he convulsed into a half fetal position where he came onto the metal plating just beneath her soaking pussy. He recovered and stuck himself back into her and continued, this time with enhanced feelings. He was braindead and uncaring, he didn’t notice her trembling legs and her legs crossing. She was grabbing her bed and trembling with pleasure, completely overcome with ecstasy and adrenaline. She was trying to hold back on her orgasm, to make it much more powerful, and she could barely contain herself. It didn’t take much more before she let go and came, her pussy seemed to start drooling and she cried loudly with dopamine ramping it up. Her deep inhales and loud cries showed just how good Cole was at this, he didn’t care now but later he’d take much pride in it.
He kept on, pumping in and out, in and out, in and out, making a squishing noise with every draw and a slapping noise with every insert. It would be quite loud if it weren’t for all the moaning, grunting, and heavy breathing overcoming it. This time around Cole watched his work, he watched with glee was he pounded her into a subconscious stupor. Her whole body was mellowing and numbing at the same time in the most fantastic way, all she felt was his size inside her and the after cum still flicking out of his cock. The tingling and warm sensation made her beg for a deep load, a load that Cole would be all too happy to deposit. As his climax rose to power again she didn’t let his convulses threaten her desire, she wrapped around his back and held him close until she felt it. He came and the orgasm shook his body, he launched spurts of sperm deep into her where it systematically closed tight on his sperm, cock, and body. Her vagina sent her ‘brain’ tons of pleasing reports and made her elevated temperature raise higher. She knew that Cole was done, he was limp and his cock was starting to retreat, leaving behind a wonderful puddle of sperm for her pussy to lavish.
She carried him up just beneath her outcropping command pod and laid him there with a blanket and one of her ‘smaller’ pillows as a mattress. He grabbed her hands and held them tight in his; he kissed her hand and rested in her pillow. “So,” he began, “no way we aren’t dating now.”
“I thought you’d never realize.” She retorted, still in a high state from the huge amount of dopamine and ecstasy.
“We aren’t making a bastard, right?”
“No… No.., I won’t be prego. Unless you want a little bastard?”
“No. I’ll marry a whore than make a bastard.”
“How sweet and insulting.”
“Who said you’re the whore? I’m pretty damn expensive if I do say so myself.” She laughed.
“A man whore?”
“The manliest man of whores.” He snickered. “And you know just how good I am at my profession.” He said as he tucked his hands under the back of his head. She laughed some more.
“Damned if I don’t.”
“Something’s missing, I need one of those things from the old movies.., fuck what was it? A cigarette! That’s it! I need a cigarette!”
“Well we don’t have those anymore. So you’re just gonna have to settle for pussy.” They joked and played until they fell asleep in the dark night.
Fin Cybran ACU
So it’s about god damn time I posted again. And it’s about god damn time I posted this story. That picture is what Lynda looks like in all her glory.., with my GT in bright green beneath her feet.
This is pretty much the final months of the war all in one chapter, time flies by for Hansel and Marion and now it’s the end.
Every night Marion cradled Hansel against her side as he slept or rested, his injury and near-death encounter shocked her more than it shocked him and from that moment on she regarded his safety as the most important thing in the world. Hansel didn’t mind the increase in attention, his experience showed him just how frail life was and how all of that poetic jargon was true: life is short so make it last. He stayed by her all of his recovery for her sake and in the meantime taught her how to write and expanded her reading ability, he also taught Cindy how to write in German–she wrote her good-bye letter in English and luckily Inbred can read English–and not just read like Zwei taught her. In turn Cindy taught both Marion and Hansel how to read and write what English she knew. Both coached the other how to be more fluent in their non-native language. Marion sort of stole Cindy away from Katelyn and Chuck again to Katelyn’s aggravation, Marion still was put to work at her old task but to a lesser quota and intensity. This all put together gave her time with Hansel and Cindy making her happy and kept her active and made her feel like she earns her keep.
In all reality Patton had it easier on fuel supply to keep the non-combating living tanks on the front instead of sending back where all the others were sent, so Chuck, Katelyn, Rosa, Marion, Tiger, Zwei, Cindy, Geoff, Griffin, Mini-Rommel and Kramia all kept up with the Third Army’s push for Berlin. And that they did, they’d get battle stories from Banker and Betty and the whole group of them-and a newly introduced Skip the M5 Stuart they heard of long, long ago and her secret lover Kyle. They kept their love quiet so they didn’t have to answer to the lab coats. Her and Betty hung out with the non-combatant breathers when they had time off but would occasionally slip away, no one thought any differently of their absence.
And that was life for them, days and days and days went on as the Allies pushed deeper and deeper into the Fatherland. Casualties were high and the war was bitter and cold with the dead and dying, that absolutely sickened Hansel and his German brothers-in-arms; seeing their homeland devastated, raped of resources and blown up for ‘defense’ by their own people nearly drove them mad. Every atrocity that someone accidentally mentioned nearby them angered them more. They longed to take back their homes but would also rather that the assault stopped there, that the guns were unloaded right there to leave the ammunition in the dirt and for all to leave and go home. But where was home? They didn’t know anymore. They didn’t know. One morning, recently after Hansel had fully recovered and the scar was the only mark of the wound, they weren’t ordered up. They weren’t ordered to move ammunition, they were told nothing. Concerned of super fanatical resistance Hansel went to the Major and asked what was going on.
“It seems our part is done.” He lit his pipe; it reminded Hansel of his Colonel’s pipe. “We reached the Elbe River and politics leaves the rest for the Russians.”
“No!” Hansel declared, he feared what Russia would do to Germany. “No we have to keep going! We can’t let the Russians have Germany, we have to take it!”
“You and Patton, both, my friend.” He took a long draw from his pipe and blew it to the wind. “To be frank I’m happy that we’re done. No more war for us. A lot of us get to go home, you, too. Maybe. You were from Munich, right? Don’t worry; it’ll all be over soon.” He grabbed Hansel’s shoulders and rocked it back and front. “Patton wanted to see you sometime tomorrow; he said to stop by his office-or jeep. Whichever one his ass is in.” Hansel broke away and went back to Marion. He told her about the Allied half at the river; Cindy wanted to see the river up close. Marion suggested they go see the river. Hansel, Whacker, Meats, Cindy, Marion, Mini-Rommel and Kramia all went to the river. They saw Russian and Americans in the river celebrating together, their meeting signaled their end in this war. There were German P.O.W.s nearby, too. They were beaten up very badly in bandages and wraps. All of their faces were a mix of pain, relief, dread and defeat. Whacker spotted some Russain tanks over on the other side moving unlike cold steel tanks, he did a little figuring and suppressed his fear for the Russians and went over with a curious Meats and excited group of Americans, Hansel and the breathers sat back; Cindy played in the river until Geoff came up, then they splashed each other.
Whacker was with Meats, who was talking and comparing muscles with a large Russian man equal in to his size, and Whacker would continuously glance over to the T-34 and the IS about twenty meters to his left. He was trying to think of something to say, he’s been able to flirt with women before no problem but he always had something to talk about, something like how Germany’s growing again or how family is doing or something inviting. Something they shared. He didn’t know a thing about the Russians. All he knew is what Kramia told him but that was how to win her over not spark up a conversation. Meats was stopped by this man because they were the strongest men around. What’s Whacker going to go up to the tanks and say? We’re all alive? Then that came to him, they were alive. Not like ‘hey you’re a breather’ but ‘you two made it to the end’ after all, they were rather obsolete models. He prayed not to offend them, he counted his blessings and asked for just one more, he tried to walk over but his mind was whispering ‘they can kill you with no effort’ and that made him shake in his boots. One of them had that 85 that had scarred him years ago. He gave himself a mental pep talk and forcefully walked over still shaking in his boots. He walked over as nonchalantly as he could, the IS caught him from the corner of her eye and shifted attention to him. As she turned towards him he shook even more, if it wasn’t for the spacious jacket and pants the two Russians would probably be laughing.
“Hello, how you?” The IS said in English. She saw the American outfit, her English had a very heavy accent, and while it is a mutual language that so far seemed that both knew decently, it wasn’t Whacker’s strong point. He figured it’d be his best bet.
“I am good, we all survived. I say that make us all good.” His English was better but obviously not perfect; luckily neither of the Russian tanks had talked to an actual American yet.
“I say so, yes.” The IS smiled at him, her voice confirmed that she was a female, the T-34 that she was previously talking to hasn’t spoken, they weren’t together so he guessed that it, too, was a female. “I am from forty-three, where do you from?”
“I go back to forty-four. Where do you come from?” He asked the T-34, it was scanning over him with its eyes. It was making him uncomfortable. He saw it adjust the handsaw on its chest and he caught a glimpse of a hole. An 88’s hole. He began to sweat nervously under his clothes and his pilot cap became itchy.
“Forty-two. I come from forty-two.” It was also a female. Whacker calmed down a little but the T-34 wouldn’t stop hard-staring at him.
“So what is you name?” The IS asked. “My name Shellproof.”
“My name’s Adam, I like your name.”
“Thank you.” They waited for the T-34 to say her name but nothing came, only a cold and hard stare. “Her name is Thirty-Four. Don’t think of her, usual she is not this way. She just is strange now.” Shellproof scowled at Thirty-Four and hit her hull disapprovingly.
“Why is she moody?”
“She can get worked up. She does not good with new persons. She has gone through tough time.” Shellproof looked to Thirty-Four and talked to her in Russian, all Whacker caught was ‘you go get’ and then he was lost.
“Da.” Thirty-Four backed up and left.
“You are not American, are you?” Shellproof asked bluntly, her stone gaze into his soul broke his composure.
“No, I’m not really American.” He began to break down and freak out. Was she going to kill him? Should he run? Should he get Meats? Shellproof moved to him fast and held his arms against his body.
“Calm! Calm. Be. Calm.” She stroked his leather cap with a tendril. “Let me tell you why she moody.”
“Okay, okay, why is she moody?”
“She was hit and raped by Tiger. She has boy named-”
“ADLER!” They heard Thirty-Four shout and both of them jumped, Shellproof instinctively pulled Whacker to her body to shield him from an angry Thirty-Four but instead it was an excited Adler, her son. He looked exactly like his mother only smaller and he was trying to look at Whacker. He was talking fast in Russian, Shellproof, with Whacker still against her treads, talked over him. Adler suddenly stopped bouncing around and bit his lip.
“He speak no any English. I can talk for both.” Shellproof said. Thirty-Four strolled over and hit Adler on the back of his turret while he was shooting off questions. He whined to his mom while she scolded him. She ‘hmph’d and he cuddled up to her. She wrapped her arm around his turret. He was nearly half her size. He finished his questions and from there Shellproof did her best to translate. They talked like this for a while then Adler looked at the P.O.W.s on the bridge nearby and pulled out a ball and left, Shellproof told Thirty-Four to just watch him and she did so.
Adler rushed over to two beaten and battered German soldiers. One was in bloody bandages from the hips up on his left side and bloody wraps covered the left side of his head including the eye, his left arm was in a sling. The man next to him was with crutches and was missing his leg beneath the right knee. Both also had various injuries but those described were major wounds that rendered them combat useless. They saw Adler approaching and they shimmied together and shivered. Adler looked at them with empathy and mercy; he took the ball in his hands and gave it to the German soldier. Adler’s outstretched arm held the little ball in his hand so gently and gracefully, he took the hand of the one legged soldier and put the ball in his hand. Adler looked at them and under his breath he said ‘danke’ and turned to leave when the German called out. “Sie möchten Ball spielen?” Adler happily nodded.
Thirty-Four crept up behind him and watched her son play, as strange as it was to see him play without her it was also rewarding in a way. She laid down on her belly and smiled at him, neither he nor the Germans saw her. She didn’t like Germans but given the three years to think she got past the blind and absolute hatred of all Germans. She simply smiled and watched her son play ball. Once dusk approached she went up to Adler and sent him away. Now the two soldiers were quivering with fear, they couldn’t run and there was no one to stop her; she was the angry tank that charged them two years ago. “Danke für den Ball.” She said calmly and respectively, handing them the ball. She turned and left them there with the other P.O.W.s being sent to the American camps. While she was watching Adler Shellproof and Whacker were talking a lot about themselves.
Fin Ch 46
Time passed on and Hansel and Marion were appointed to frontline service, their final test had begun. It was late February and by now the allied advance was moving as fast as the Sherman tank could advance, the opposition floundered. Hansel and Marion pitied the German defenders and were horrified by how much younger they started looking the further in they traveled. They began hearing terrifying reports from other areas about the desperation Germany was in and the two prayed that it was just miscommunication and not at all true. They refused to believe the reports; Hansel swore that they had too much honor and dignity to do such things. Every town and city they conquered began looking darker and darker and darker, the population was in ruin and the homes were unrecognizable. They saw German women whoring themselves out for food and water, that’s all they asked for was food and water. It mentally fucked with Hansel, Meats, Whacker and Banker, Marion understood that it was all they could do but still felt it wrong. Constantly Meats, Whacker, Banker and Hansel would split one of their rations between them and give the three others to the women and children.
The combat was hard on the Germans, both sides, but for Hansel and his German allies it hurt to pull the trigger, to give the command, to extinguish the life of their home nation. Nonetheless they knew what atrocities that the Wehrmacht were unknowingly fighting for and knew that those atrocities must be ended no matter the cost. Marion never had to worry about her front being penetrated, not even by her own kind, but the one thing she feared were the PanzerFausts, the ‘Tank Fist’ will rip through her side and melt Meats, Hansel, and Whacker alive until they die. She made it her best interest to befriend the infantry so that they’d look out for her and after a few Panthers were put down under Marion’s gun they did indeed watch her back. The infantry definitely looked out for her because she’s the one that they’d use to remove any hardened positions and the one not afraid to stick out and take a hit. The infantry eventually nicknamed her ‘Heavy Angel’ for saving their asses many times.
In early March Hansel, Marion, and their little crew were driving with Cindy moving up, they were more towards the back and there on they could play with Cindy again. They liked playing with her; she always comforted them and got their minds off the war. Something caught Marion’s eye and she glanced up but had to double take. The reports were true. It was outside a village, a village of maybe four houses and a barn and this was happening. Marion furiously shook Hansel and got his attention towards what she was looking at. Cindy was going to turn as well but Marion covered her eyes and held Cindy’s turret toward herself. By now the whole German crew was looking on at it. Not one dared to admit its truth.
“Oh my God!” Those were the words spoken by Marion in horror. There just outside of a village of four houses, dangling from tree limbs, were six people. Four were in badly fitted Wehrmacht uniforms and two were unmistakably women in dresses, they all had wooden boards hung around their necks. The boards said they didn’t want to fight for Hitler, for the Fatherland, that they were cowards and pigs and Jew sympathizers. There was a team of Americans cutting them down from the trees, as Marion drew closer they saw three ropes behind the American team. As Marion got even closer they saw that the Wehrmacht soldier they were cutting down couldn’t have been older than thirteen. The uniform next to him had long girlish hair and a petite face. The two women were maybe in their sixties. One of the Americans picked up a sign and hurriedly ran over to Marion and handed Whacker the board.
“Kill these bastards!” And with that he ran off. Whacker read the board and all the reports he denied could be true suddenly were true.
“I don’t want to live in this world anymore!” He solemnly spoke through quivering lips as tears ran down his face; he retreated to his little cubbie and drank from his flask crying. Marion looked at the board and realized just how much she couldn’t read. She passed it to Hansel who read it aloud in German so Cindy wouldn’t understand half of it.
‘THE SS WILL HANG ALL TRAITORS OF THE FATHERLAND JUST AS WE HAVE DONE WITH THESE PIG-DOGS!’
“What has this world come to?” Hansel tossed down the board; Marion seized it and chucked it as hard as she could into the woods. It hit a tree and broke to pieces. Marion radioed to Zwei to cover Geoff’s eyes for at least a mile. She did so to Marion’s tone of voice. That was their first taste of the horror. More followed the deeper they went into Germany, soon their reactions went from terror and horror and disgust to anger and rage and hatred. They absolutely hated the SS, their anger and rage would build and fester until they at last had a vent; an SS division was holding on to a town with fanatical spirit. They liked it when they were fanatical, there would be no retreat. Marion and her crew insisted that they spearhead into the town and their angry tones easily persuaded the American major to allow this. They sat back and turned on their megaphone they’d use to dissuade any conflict only this time they spoke freely.
“DEAR S S, WE HAVE SEEN YOUR WORK WITH ‘TRAITORS’ AND WE ARE NOT HAPPY. YOU HIDE BEHIND CHILDREN, YOU HIDE BEHIND WOMEN, AND YOU ARE ALL WORTHLESS WASTES OF GERMAN FLESH! MY GERMAN TANK AND MY GERMAN CREW WILL LOVE TEARING YOU TO BITS. WE WILL FLATTEN ALL RESISTANCE! WE WILL RUIN YOUR PRECIOUS REICH MADE OF MAD DOGS AND SEE TO THE EXTINCTION OF ALL YOU STAND FOR! WE WILL KILL YOU IN THE NAME OF THE FATHERLAND, NOT FOR HITLER, WE KILL YOU FOR GERMANY! NOW PREPARE TO DIE!”
With that Hansel ordered Marion to push on and instantly she was away. In her path was a line of sandbags and dug in MGs and a Pak 38 that stretched across the main road. Her gaze was in a fierce stance that was affixed on that Pak gun, the gun crew hastily loaded and aimed but she knew they couldn’t do anything. They were only wasting precious time to run. The Pak fired into her upper and glanced off; Marion didn’t feel a thing and smiled as she slammed into the barricades. She heard the men screaming as her treads pushed them into the road and she and Whacker ripped any SS infantry they saw to pieces with their 42’s. They pushed through the town streets gunning down every SS soldier they saw. They HE bombed out any nests and sniper towers and trampled over any SS that stood in their way. Their blind push forward at first let the infantry swarm and absolutely overrun the SS soldiers but then it led Marion too far away from the infantry and, as she went through a narrow street, head long into another Tiger II. At first the Tiger II was hesitant to shoot because Hansel and them had rolled up the US star banners and Marion was portraying her German Iron Crosses, but Marion and Whacker spraying down infantry soon gave the Tiger II a rude awakening and a fight for its life. Hansel was the first to come to grips that they had no infantry support and he unbuttoned his hatch and grabbed his 42 so he could help watch her sides. As he was standing up out of the hatch he heard a blood curdling scream.
“TRAITOR PIG!” Hansel snapped his head to the right as a SS camouflaged soldier leapt from a window onto Marion’s roof. He slid into Hansel’s cupola swinging into him with his fists, Hansel narrowly dodged a few but one caught him in the head, knocking his headset off. Hansel punched the soldier in the nose blooding it. “YOU PIG! I’LL KILL YA!” He stood up and drew his P38 handgun and chambered a round, “AND THEN I’M GONNA HANG YA!” He pointed the gun at Hansel, Hansel dropped the 42 inside and lunged at the gun and grabbed it with his left.
“Get off my TANK!” He pulled as hard as he could and punched a right hook into the soldier’s jaw. The soldier lunged himself into Hansel and grabbed him, taking Hansel down with him. Hansel’s back bent and ground against the MG rail as he fell out of Marion and slid to the ground. Hansel felt immense pain as he most likely cut his back severely and possibly broke a rib landing. He and the SS soldier stumbled to their feet and the soldier, unable to have held onto his pistol, draws his bayonet and stands in a wide stance. Once Hansel regains his balance he strains to dodge and parry his attacker’s mad swings. Marion’s side and a brick wall constrain Hansel to fight head on and while Hansel was much taller with a longer reach than his attacker he also needed a bigger space to evade. He was running out of stamina, his adrenaline was pumping as much as possible but he was malnourished and tired. He looked to Marion for help but she was super focused on fighting the other tank. He screamed for her and smacked her side when he could but she didn’t seem to notice. He saw an opening and lunged at his attacker. He in turn took the knife and swiped from left to right at Hansel, missing and getting the long blade wedged deep in between the brick and mortar. At this time one of Marion’s arms shot out towards the soldier, who evaded, and struck the knife hilt and thus breaking the blade. The soldier recovered and spat out a wad of blood before lunging at Hansel again. Hansel had no balance and only had time to grab the arm.
It was too late.
The broken knife blade pierced through Hansel in his gut. Hansel’s grip prevented the soldier from moving the knife any more than it was but damage had been done. The soldier smiled and looked into Hansel’s scared eyes with a wicked grin; his teeth were covered in blood and his nose was broken. Hansel’s right arm and hand were free and with one swift movement he drew his father’s knife from its hip sheathe and jammed the blade into the soldier’s temple. The blade easily broke the temple, just under the stalnhelm and hit the brain, the blow broke the soldier’s bearing and his dying body released and crumpled to the floor. Hansel, too, collapsed forward but caught himself before he fell to his left side, the side the knife was on. Marion screamed out and grabbed Hansel, her eye searched over him a thousand times a second, her mind was going a million miles an hour but she had no idea what to do. She kept calling him again and again but he would only moan. She panicked and shook him crying out medic, medic, medic, her other eye caught the white circle with a superimposed red cross and her arms lashed at it. She slapped the rifle from his hands and pulled the medic over to Hansel’s body and with a sobbing voice she pleaded him to do something, to save him. The medic was very fresh and had only been ‘bloodied’ the day before; he laid Hansel flat on his back and undid his Panzer black tunic. He had no idea that he was working on an American conscripted tanker, all he knew was that the tank was crying and this German tanker needed help. Being a little bit thrown off by a living tank he carefully removed the knife and ignored Marion’s wails while he opened up the tunic. He stuffed his hand into the gash to apply pressure as his other hand gathered clean rags and bandages. He then replaced his hand with the rags and put on as much pressure as he could.
Hansel couldn’t move, his whole body was hurting. He felt blood oozing from gashes on his back, he felt all numb and hurt in his lower left gut where he’d been stabbed, and he felt Marion’s hands grabbing at him. He felt that one warm hand on his cheek, that one hand on his right cheek, the creases and folds where it bends, the textured grips, the blunt corners of each finger, all three fingers and the thumb, the palm, and the wrist. He felt their warm, passionate kiss, her lips enveloping his lips and the metallic and fleshy taste of her mouth on his tongue and the warmth that those kisses brought to him. He felt their embraces when it was cold, her tight and rimmed arms surrounding his torso keeping him warm on a cold night. He felt her relaxing hull, her platform that he’d sleep on like a mattress that was always warm when it’s cold and cool when it’s hot. He felt all of it, and he loved it. Her hand, it calmed him, his memories, it made him feel giddy, their love, it made him feel like everything was alright. Like nothing would separate them. He knew he was dying, and images of his friends flashed by him but he never took his gaze off of Marion. He thought to himself about death, he knew that their love was dangerous, that their lives were filled with death, and he constantly thought about this. He was once again thinking of death, about when he’s gone, he thought that when he dies today that he’ll be with her forever. He didn’t worry about not being with her, he would be her guardian angel, her consoling spirit, nor if there was no god and no spirits than she’s have his memories, memories of him and their love. He was alright if she moved on and loved another, he didn’t fear or dislike that. After all, he is dead, and he knows that she wouldn’t ever forget him. And he would never forget her. That brought a smile to his face. He wished he could get up and walk to her but he hurt too much, he wished he could tell her it was okay but his voice was weak. So instead he continued to smile and look at her.
The medic had been toiling away at his task with Marion carefully watching while the infantry caught up, fighting their way through the fanatical resistance. They saw that their beloved friends were still and they rushed up to help. They swarmed around and secured the area, holding the medic at gunpoint. Marion vouched for him, pleaded them to leave him. They brought up an American medic to take over and escorted the disgruntled SS medic to the other captured SS soldiers. Marion grabbed the dead SS soldier that assaulted her lover and threw him across the street into the burning Tiger II hulk. His body smacked against the metal making a loud cracking noise as many bones inside his corpse shattered. His rag body slumps to the ground leaving a large blood splat on the Tiger II’s armor. Marion had noticed their commotion on her roof but all her focus was making sure that the Tiger II was dead. She first put a shot right into the hull machine gun and second the coaxial, after countless shots wasted on the armor she noticed that the SS would back in and out of an intersection and shoot into her armor, she grew tired of it and so she pulled up just enough to HE rip their right track off. She backed up and just in time because they pulled out-or at least tried to. The left track drug their left flank into view and Marion put one into the driver’s seat killing him. The tank could only sit there and take her punishment and punishment is what she gave. Round after round she pumped into the side until a fire was set and the survivors tried to bail. Whacker and Marion gunned them down before they could get anywhere. Now that it was all done and over Marion noticed that the SS crew painted a pair of eyes on the turret, one on each side just as she had it only their eyes had a yellow eyeball and red irises. She didn’t care if it was alive or not, if it was she’d still kill it. She knows that her people are few in numbers but she knows that if it was in the gene pool, the same gene pool she was in, she would forcibly remove it for machine kind. Marion and her crew were relieved after that, they had shown that they were strong, showed that they were dutiful and trustworthy. General Patton received word of their results and arranged plans for them based on their performance. They didn’t know it then but that battle would be their last for the Second Great War. The U.S. forces took eighty-six prisoners of war from that town and the efforts of Marion saved many children and women forced to serve Hitler by the SS. Whenever they met a group of forced warriors she disarmed them and ordered to stand down. That helped Marion sleep at night, helped ease her burdens. She kept Hansel by her side while he recovered from his ailments, the stab wound severed his appendix from his intestines, at least now he didn’t need to worry about it exploding-something frequent in his bloodline.
Fin Ch 45
Well this is not the ending to their story but this pretty much ends their military combat for the U.S. Hansel’s injury puts him in a sickbed for the rest of the war, which ends for Europe on May 8th. I’m sorry that this was posted later than normal, it was a mix of missing the usual date and making this extra dramatic. I know, I’m a bastard.
Here’s Yamato II, the second insert for Yamato. I just couldn’t resist putting her into another story, WOWS is too tempting. Oh and yes there’s a shoutout to WOWS, but that’s besides the point.
OH! and here’s the Yamato theme song for my favorite RTS game Battlestations Pacific with super sexy and impressive pictures and paintings:
The video’s good for the battle scene 😉 Enjoy!
Yamato handed Daichi to Hisashi, he was their bright little baby boy. Yamato had given birth not forty-eight hours ago and Daichi was already proving to be a trouble maker. When Yamato tried to ‘breast’ feed him he grabbed her nipple and did drink a little from it but took it and smacked it against her arm like it was a stick. Another instance is when they tried to put him to sleep he would rattle his crib open and get out, all throughout the night he’d wake up and bust out of his crib. They expected him to cry throughout the night but no, he silently would break out and would be caught when he fell from the crib to the floor and climb onto Hisashi. Yamato said he just loves his dad a lot but she knew he did it to be an annoyance. With all the crap he’s put them through they still couldn’t be happier. He’s a little tan bundle and when Hisashi took him he smiled upon his little boy. Daichi’s little brown eyes squinted in the sunlight and his little arms reached out to the sun to block out the light. Hisashi rubbed Daichi’s head, feeling the soft little black hairs already growing out. Hisashi sat down against Yamato’s superstructure and rocked his son in his arms.
“You’re going to grow up and make us proud, Daichi.”
“You tell him that every time you see him.”
“I don’t want him to have any doubts.” At that moment an Admiral stepped onto Yamato and asked for Hisashi. An attendant led him to the Admiral’s bridge and asked him to wait while the attendant fetched Hisashi. He climbed up a level and opened the blast door and called for Hisashi. Hisashi muttered ‘I thought I was retired’ and climbed up the ladder. Yamato held her son while daddy climbed up. He followed the attendant and just before the door to the bridge was opened the admiral commanded ‘at ease’ and surprised Hisashi. Hisashi still snapped to attention before the admiral. “Sir, what fortune have we found to have your presence?”
“Hisashi Isobe I understand it is still drilled into you to treat me with high respects but if you could try to refrain from it that would be greatly appreciated.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“I am greatly humbled to be here, Yamato here in a Japanese slipway was far beyond my childhood dreams when I was inspired to join by her, but much like in her time of glory Japan’s Navy is small; and just like in her time of glory Japan is at war.” Hisashi blinked.
“What, sir? Japan is at war?” The admiral nodded. “With who? China?”
“No, Isobe, Japan is at war with the United African Federation.” Yamato blinked this time.
“Excuse me, but the United African Federation? Who are they?”
“The UAF are similar to United States but instead of democracy as their governing tool the UAF use a dictator-socialist method. Close to fascism but not as extreme. Their dictator Jamul Irogod rose to power by gaining the allegiance of other African countries through promise of prosperity, by economic overtaking, or by forcefully erecting himself, much like Hitler did. At first he promised peace, like Hitler, then he did something else, he used Africa’s vast resources to become a superpower. They hurriedly advanced many sciences, such as finding the antivirus serum for AIDS and HIV, developing a combatant for early stage cancers, and finding new building techniques for more stable buildings during earthquakes-something Japan has benefited from greatly-and they have some of the greatest a scientists from around the world there researching their fields. Their domestic production is immense and is one of the highest in the world. Jamul wanted more, just like Hitler. He started expanding into the Middle East to ‘stabilize’ the turmoil but it was an invasion. I’ve said enough and you get the picture so I’m going to cut to the chase, the UAF has declared war on the ‘corrupt’ UN nations. We are part of the UN.” There was a short silence before Yamato put things together.
“So you want me back in service.” The admiral was hesitant to reply.
“Yes. Now we know you have done so much for Japan already, even giving your life for Japan, but we’re asking again. Will you help us?” Yamato cradled her son in her arms and pressed him against her body, ignoring his death grip on her tendril. She still retained the mentality of fulfilling duty no matter what, and her duty was to serve the Emperor and Japan, but at the same time she has a child to feed and nurture, a child to protect. Hisashi was going to take up the call to arms and Yamato knew and accepted that, but what about her son? She could not form an answer, she panicked a little bit. She brought Hisashi to a private corner and asked him. Hisashi had no immediate family alive but he did have a cousin that he regularly talked to while waiting for Yamato. Hisashi knew he had a wife and a daughter, his cousin-in-law was a nice woman, he trusted them with Daichi. He proposed the thought to Yamato, the admiral caught wind of their situation. “My wife said it’d be an honor to watch your child in the time being, if that helps with anything.” Yamato was still afraid to let go of her only son but she knew that if something did happen Daichi would be in great care with Hisashi’s cousin. She hesitantly accepted the call to arms. “Don’t fear, Yamato. Your line of duty won’t put you on the front often; there will be ample time for you to spend with your son. Besides, we still have to outfit you.”
Yamato relieved herself of worry, she and Hisashi continued to care for Daichi while Hisashi’s cousin and his family came down to spend time with Yamato, Hisashi, and Daichi. The day after they reentered the Japanese Navy Yamato was moved into the slip where she was outfitted with her turrets after being raised and her turrets were removed and the museum pieces exhumed from her. Four triple AA turrets from each side were removed and her smokestack cover was taken out. In place of the eight missing triple AA turrets were eight American ‘Sea Whiz’ guns, radar was easily positioned on her and hooked up to a computer and her main gun batteries, in her smokestack were two ballistic missile systems and the smokestack cover was changed to one that opened up. She was obviously filled with ammunition and powder.
“Where did you find all of these extra rounds?” She asked the admiral in astonishment as truck upon truck stopped and unloaded rounds.
“Since you were resurfaced we have been building up arms for your weaponry. Since you sank, actually, people have been keeping you, say, up to date. There have been numerous conception arts put online of you modernized, as a space ship, and even as an aircraft carrier. You’ve been put into various medias, video games, comics, animations. You’re almost considered a pop culture icon. Now the actual modernization may not be what the media is expecting, no rail guns or laser beams, but you will be once again a deadly and fierce adversary.” Yamato did indeed feel like a deadly foe again. Her gun systems were given computer assistance and her new radar array swept far past the horizon, further than her guns could even reach, and her new missiles were a very potent weapon to unleash upon a worthy enemy. Her defenses? Her AA battery was also given an enhanced fire control system and her Sea Whiz guns that were radar guided made a near impenetrable bubble around her. Hisashi’s family arrived the weekend the modifications were completed. They were tired after the long travel and while they were all very much impressed by Yamato but they really just wanted some sleep. Hisashi very excitedly introduced them to Yamato, Mr. and Mrs. Isobe and their daughter Emiko. Emiko was an energetic preteen and after following Hisashi to her bedroom, right next to her parents’ room all officers’ quarters, she followed Hisashi around and talked to Yamato more.
“You look different from the game.” Emiko said looking up at Yamato’s impressive radar array.
“I did have a lot of modern changes.” Yamato was curious about how she looked in the game. “What do I look like in the game?”
“I’ll show you,” she pulled a small laptop and opened it up. She started it up and used a wireless mouse to open up a game. She logged on and a Japanese cruiser came up on the ocean, she clicked around and a grayscale Yamato appeared. Emiko handed the laptop to Yamato and told her how to orbit the digital version of herself. It was the 1945 variant of her, exactly how she looked when she sank. Yamato held the laptop in front of her face with two hands and moved the mouse with a third “looks like you, but without all the new stuff.”
“Yeah,” Yamato was amazed at how nice it looked, even though it lacked color it looked amazing, “it looks exactly like me.”
“I don’t play battleships. I play cruisers.” Yamato was still entranced by her digital self, a mix of both flattering and astonishment filled her. “Click ‘PORT’ and you can see what ships I have.” Yamato did so and color came back as her digital self disappeared. Up came a Mogami cruiser in full colors with the green stripe camouflage. “My best ship is the Mogami, but I think I also have the American Bogue carrier. Those are my top ships. My other countries are still at tier two.” Yamato was this time affixed on looking all around the Mogami, she was astonished at how real it looked.
“Why don’t you have a battleship?” She asked not at all offended, she realized long long ago she was outdated.
“They’re too slow, I like going fast and running around.”
“You know our Kongo battleships were fast. I think they could do thirty knots.”
“That’s fast,” she thought, “yeah they are fast. Not as fast as my Furutaka but fast.”
“You don’t have any destroyers?”
“Not yet, I want to get the Senjo first, and then I’ll get some destroyers.” There was a silence as Yamato switched to the Bogue carrier. Chills shook through her hull. “Do you want to play?” Yamato had absolutely no computer capability. She had been on a tablet before but a computer? Hell no. But she wanted to so bad.
“Yes! How do I play?”
“Well,” Emiko thought, she didn’t want her laptop to be broken out here. She wanted to move it inside, “can you see inside?”
“I can see on the bridge and I can see in Hisashi’s room.” She found Hisashi in his room. “Hisashi!” She exclaimed, “Make yourself appropriate!” Hisashi was already appropriate and the only time she really commanded him like that was when she wanted some naughty fun, usually she commanded ‘Hisashi! Clean the bed off!’ but nope, not this time. He was confused. He instead made Daichi appropriate and soon enough Yamato opened the door and let Emiko in. “Emiko is showing me how to play a game.”
“Well keep it down, Daichi is asleep.” Emiko sat down at the desk and opened the laptop; she rebooted everything and up came the game. The title screen of a movie clip of a dramatic fight between ships caught his eye. “What game is that?”
“World of Warships. It’s a game about warships from the Second World War.”
“Is Yamato in it?”
“I am! Isn’t it exciting? It’s so amazing how realistic it looks!” She exclaimed sharing her feelings about being in a video game. Hisashi softly chuckled, he knew how much media surrounded Yamato, and still he was curious as to the detail they gave her in this game. Emiko signed in and pulled up Yamato again, she turned and saw Daichi.
“Oh he’s so cute! Can I hold him? Please?”
“Sit on the bed so if you get tired you can put him down.” She hopped off the chair and onto the bed and her face gave away that she was not strong enough to hold Daichi for long. Hisashi meanwhile orbited the digital Yamato and was impressed at its detail and beauty. It did look exactly like when they left for Okinawa all those years ago. He got up and picked Daichi off of Emiko’s numb legs. “Heavy, isn’t he?”
“Very heavy.” She popped back into the chair and clicked around. “Yamato what nation do you want to start with?”
“Japan.” Emiko switched to Co-op mode and selected the Japanese tier I she kept for the destroyer line.
“Okay now give me your hands,” Yamato did so, she was taught the basics and then sent into a Co-op game. Yamato could see through the camera she had in the room the screen and everybody watching her, she felt excited and pressured even though it was a game. As she played Daichi woke up but nobody noticed, it wasn’t because the game drowned out his cry but the game captivated him and so he didn’t cry. The flashes of fire and smoke with the splashes and explosions of shots kept him quiet. Hisashi noticed he was staring at the screen with a wide smile on his face; he’d grin and softly giggle when a ship exploded. Once the game ended, Yamato sank a ship and hit four others; Yamato retracted her arms and exclaimed how much fun she had. “Those enemies were just computer programs, the only real people were your allies. If you play in random battles instead of co-op battles then everyone there is a real person. Random battles are much harder.”
“That was pretty loud, is Daichi still asleep?”
“No,” Yamato was about to go comfort Daichi back to sleep, “he loved the show.” Daichi was pointing at the laptop screen and grunting and whining. “I think he wants another.”
“Oh I could play that game all day.”
“We can make you your own profile, that way you can play yours and I can play mine and we can play together.”
“I’ll still be able to play, right?”
“As long as I can play it!” She picked up Daichi and talked to him. “Don’t worry my little Daichi, you’ll see it soon enough.” Emiko made Yamato her own email account and from there her own profile. Yamato played for a little longer on her own profile and meanwhile thought how she might take Daichi out and show him the power of real life guns she has. “Hisashi, when do we go out for sea trials?”
“Tuesday. Why do you ask?”
“I think Daichi would love to see my guns fire.” Emiko got excited.
“Can I come!?” She begged but Hisashi declared it was up to her parents.
The days passed and Emiko’s parents didn’t mind Emiko staying while Yamato conducted sea trials, Hisashi’s cousin also stayed but his wife did not stay with Yamato, she stayed with the Admiral’s wife not too far from the base. Yamato sailed out off the coast of Okinawa and ended her trip off the coast of Iwo Jima where she woke her guns from their slumber. Emiko and Daichi were in their fathers’ arms and were watching, watching with excited anticipation as the two forward barbettes clunked to life. They all heard the gears grind, the clank-clank-clank of the turrets move, the hum of the six massive guns elevate to the predetermined position. Hisashi leaned over the rail to check on the stern turret, it was in the same position as the other two. Over the loudspeaker they heard the countdown. Yamato could hardly stand it. As soon as the order was given her first turret let its awesome power go. No matter where you were on that ship you felt those guns, the discharge put a heavy thump in your chest, it knocks the wind from your lungs and makes your ribs question their strength. The gun crews for the AA erupted in cheer as the smoke billowed from the three barrels, everyone watches as the three glowing shots hurtled out maybe ten miles, well within her capability, and suddenly drop to the ocean making huge splashes seen easily with the naked eye. As the columns came crashing back down the second battery was discharged. Again it felt like someone punched you square in the chest and knocked the wind from you. Daichi by now was going crazy, he had the biggest smile on his chubby face and was flailing his arms around, bouncing up and down, and laughing up a storm. This set of salvos traveled out to about the edge of the horizon before they dropped from the sky. Again there was cheer, and soon after the third battery fired. Emiko felt sick to her stomach with the concussive wave and sat down. The third battery fired their shots to the maximum range; it disappeared over the horizon and as it did there was a multitude of cheers from the gun crews. Hisashi convinced Emiko to stand back up and watch the smaller batteries fire. They went through their phases, not nearly as impressive as the main batteries, but they proved effective. Yamato had passed her gun qualification. Her ballistic missile launches weren’t as cool, rather uninteresting, but it was the maneuvers they performed in the sky that dazzled Yamato, Hisashi, Emiko, Daichi, and Tadashi (Emiko’s father). They turned for home and merrily chugged home.
Once they arrived home Mrs. Isobe came back aboard and heard, nonstop, all about the voyage. Emiko didn’t leave any details out, she explained the storm, the fisherman paying their respects as Yamato passed, the whales they saw, the gun qualification, the emergency stop and the hard turn around Yamato did, the shipping freighter that contested its lane (it eventually veered off before Yamato and it hit each other) and tug that almost got sucked under Yamato’s stern trying to push her into the slip. Once that was all settled out it was rather uneventful, they heard plenty from combat in the Atlantic and how the U.S. declared itself in a struggle with the UAF, it wasn’t officially war but it technically was. The majority of combat was in the Middle East and the Mediterranean, occasionally the southern cape, but almost none in the Pacific. Yamato hoped that she wouldn’t be needed but at the same time she didn’t want to be for nothing again. Since she had been recommissioned her museum doors had been closed to the public and they sat around, again. But she wasn’t alone; most of Japan’s Navy was the same way. Japan’s carriers were sent to the Atlantic for some reason, it didn’t make sense to anyone, not Yamato, not Hisashi, not even the Admiral. That was until the UAF sent a task force towards Panama. One cold morning Yamato and an escort of four destroyers were called upon. The admiral smiled once he finished reading the orders. He walked onto the bridge with a huge smirk on his face.
“What’s our mission, sir?” She asked she had just waved off Daichi and the Isobes when he stepped on deck.
“The higher-ups want to disgrace the UAF Navy.”
“How’s that, sir?”
“It was discovered that the UAF are planning to use a small detachment of destroyers and troop transports to seize the Panama Canal. Essentially cutting off the Pacific from the Atlantic. I figured out why we sent our carrier over, we were baiting them to move on Panama while everyone’s carriers were in the Atlantic.” Yamato put it together.
“They set this up for me.”
“Exactly.” They both smiled and when Yamato told Hisashi he smiled. The task force made haste to intercept the UAFN just off of Midway. The UAFN already had a good start on them but storms set them back, and Yamato’s force arrived early, the trap was set and Yamato would finally be the spearhead. The UAFN was only a day late; Yamato picked them up on her radar and felt their presence. There were six targets, all moderate size just a bit bigger than the Japanese destroyers and just as fast. She aligned her guns as the all call rang out, the five Japanese ships all coordinated their attacks and exactly 1150 hours eight missiles launched two from each destroyer. Yamato watched as the destroyer missile hatches flung open as smoke flooded the decks, a long black rod came from each of the open hatches followed by a bright streak and more smoke, as she thought about how much cooler that looked than her missile launches the eight powerful missiles soared toward their targets. Yamato tracked their impressive speed and all of a sudden they vanished off of her radar.
“No hit, no hit, no hit.” Another volley met with the same fate, no hits. Suddenly the six targets turned to twelve and then eighteen as they retaliated. Yamato watched in terror as the twelve missiles zoomed to their positions; she had just gotten them into view when her four Sea Whiz guns moved without her command. They revved to life and like a Zero’s engine they zipped and zipped, all of the Japanese ships zipped and zipped. A wall of lead formed and hit each missile on the button. Yamato wished she had those seventy-something years ago and awaited orders.
“Hold fire, hold fire. We can’t do anything to each other.” The UAFN must have thought the same thing because no more missiles came their way. “Load the guns. High Explosive.” Yamato felt a huge smile creep across her face as the command was echoed throughout the fleet. She felt all the intricate mechanics at work, she felt the breaches lock and she moved her guns to fire right as they came into range. Her destroyer escorts also had their guns ready, she knew that they would be ready, she knew everyone was ready. Hisashi stood with her in what this will be their finest hour. She kept the Admiral informed.
“Targets will be in range in three minutes, sir.” She couldn’t wait, she trained the guns onto the lead ship and waited for the command to fire. She waited for an eternity. “Sir the targets are in range.” She waited for the order.
“Hold fire.” Yamato couldn’t believe it.
“Hold fire. At that range the shot will spread too much. I want a swift victory, so wait until they are in spotting distance before firing.” Yamato scowled. She had all of this capability and it was essentially useless. She tracked each one; she tracked their movements and patterns. After an agonizing time the first destroyer crept over the horizon. “Fire away.” Her guns instantly rang out in a broadside and the whole Japanese fleet felt the guns as the one-and-a-half ton shots soared at two-thousand and six-hundred feet per second. The shots kept their grouping tight and when they dropped from the sky they came crashing down with immense force, enough that the lead destroyer that was hit was almost completely obliterated. The HE shots pierced through the thin armor and their explosive charges ripped the hull apart sending all sorts of things into the sky. As what remains of the destroyer sank the three shots that hit their mark showed just how potent and dangerous Yamato really was. Instantly the five other destroyers took evasive actions, they were going to be tricky to hit. Their maneuvers slowed their approach but it worked. When Yamato’s guns reloaded she fired on the coordinates the computer gave her and the shots hit their marks every time, give or take about five meters but that didn’t matter, the destroyers changed direction before they could get there. Her shots were on point but the destroyers were too evasive. She grew extremely frustrated. She went with her gut on one battery and knocked out a destroyer’s bridge, the other two shots that she fired in spite barely missed the deck gun and the antenna tower. Smoke and fire flowed from the bridge as its controls were lost and it soon drifted into range for the allied destroyers to use their main guns. There were four left and by now they had drawn within the secondary battery’s range and Yamato’s six inch guns were firing as fast as possible and soon the AA five inch guns were firing flak at it to shred anyone outside and the bridge. One destroyer was hit and set afire as it tried to make a torpedo run, the admiral ordered a hard turn as it lined up but Yamato was 78,808 tons, she was nowhere near nimble; she would have to take the blow. No torpedoes came but instead volley upon volley of their main deck guns. Japanese destroyers broke formation and paired up to pick off one destroyer each pair, leaving Yamato with an injured one and a healthy one. The injured one refused to give up a torpedo run and got so close that the AA triple turrets fired rounds at the windows of it. Yamato saw the torpedo tubes moving and felt the urge to fire her main battery. She obeyed her instinct and Hisashi screaming over the gunfire for her to shoot him and all two hit him center mass. The shots were low in the hull and the explosions broke the destroyer in half with it bucking up to the sky. Yamato shifted her attention to the destroyer making a B-line to her flank. Suddenly she felt something along her side where her stern barbette was, she looked and Hisashi confirmed that it was a submarine! She couldn’t believe it, suddenly hatches on the deck opened and out shot grappling cables and hooks that quickly entangled themselves around her railing, the sub became magnetically attached to her and armed men began ascending the ropes. AA gun crews quickly sent messages up the chain and the on board Marine force was scrambled. The marine force was going to be well out numbered she saw. Her guns were reloaded just as the first attacker reached the deck; she dropped those three guns and fired all three into the ocean. The concussive blast knocked them against her hull and off the rope and caused internal bleeding, they either fell and drowned or fell sprawled onto the deck of the sub while they all were bleeding from the ears and screaming with tremendous pain. She felt the same thing on her other side, the Marines were ordered to spread over to the other side but it’d be too late. The exposed men on that side drew their side arms and waited, Yamato refused to let them be out gunned and moved the AA triple turrets to lie in wait for them. The attackers climbed up and over right into a hailstorm of .98 inch gunfire and small handgun rounds. They halted and called in for the destroyer to do something about the guns, the destroyer answered by shooting a six inch round into Yamato’s AA assortment, which killed many men and crippled at least three turrets, another round finished off the other two turrets available. She had been moving her stern turret over to subdue the attackers permanently but it was too late, they had rushed over and were swarming the uninjured AA gunners. The Marines busted trough the hatch frame and instantly started firing at the attackers. They were too close for the destroyer to do anything, so close that melee combat sparked up. Yamato did her best to grab attackers and either chuck them over or snap their necks or both. The attackers used high explosive grenade launchers to set small fires along the AA battery, further insuring they wouldn’t be a problem. Just then Yamato grabbed every Marine she could and dragged them back away from the attackers as her stern turret fired its shots, the crippling ear and internal bleeding affected very few attackers but at least it did something. Two Japanese destroyers came around and fired at the enemy destroyer to drive it away. It defiantly launched three torpedoes at Yamato; she turned hard and hoped for the best. Two would be unavoidable and she braced for the shock. Instead one torpedo slammed into the attached sub assault transport and the other one glanced off of that and further glanced off of Yamato. She was extremely relieved and giddy when the fleeing destroyer fired upon Yamato as much as possible. The other destroyers ceased their pursuit under the admiral’s orders.
“Let them run.” There was a tense pause as he lit his tobacco. “They’ll only die tired.” With that Yamato tracked its movements and fired a full on broadside. The computer assistance paid off and five of the nine shots hit. The destroyer was entirely decimated. The UAFN must have sent out a retreat because once the destroyer slipped beneath the waves the UAF Marines returned to their grappling equipment and quickly slid down back to their boarding submarine still operable. Once no more Marines returned and the Japanese Marines flooded the rail shorting down at them the UAF disconnected and quickly dove deep enough to evade the destroyers.
“Sonar picking up anything?” The Admiral demanded to know. The radio operator reported that none of the destroyers were picking up the sub. He was about to order the Marines to go down and investigate the sub still attached to Yamato when it suddenly exploded into bits and fell from Yamato’s hull. “Damn, they scuttled.” After a report on the mission they received immediate orders to return to Japan. No reason stated.
“Hisashi did you get it all?” Hisashi was hooking up his camera to the computer they bought.
“I tried but there was so much going on I couldn’t catch it all.”
“Cut out any blood, Daichi doesn’t need to see that.” Hisashi started uploading the footage to the computer before he finally relaxed.
“I tried not to record the bloodshed but there’s a few bits where I slipped. He’s going to love the big explosions.” Yamato agreed. “You alright, dear?”
“A few embers, destroyed guns and scorch marks. I’m alright otherwise. No hull breaches.” She was quiet before the headcount call rang out. “We lost a lot of people. Maybe fifty.”
Her guess was close, only one off. Yamato’s crew endured forty-nine casualties: sixteen dead and the rest wounded. The Japanese picked out fifty-three UAF survivors, the immense fire power of Yamato killed the other three-hundred or so that manned the three she killed. The UAF survivors were mostly from the destroyers’ kills, and they ranged from many ethnicities. One thing that still shocked Yamato was the vast amount of racial acceptance, something that the generation of her time never truly thought possible. It boggled and inspired her mind. While the inter species lovers thought that there was a great death toll in their battle what news was waiting back in Japan would change the world forever like nothing before seen.
Fin Yamato II
Well Ratbat, here’s a chapter for you, an all you women out there who want a tank man to love! Oh yeah, Emilie and Griffin are going at it!
After a week or so of chasing the Germans back they came across the ‘stealth unit’ of Griffin and the girls. As it turned out they had been plaguing the Americans greatly, hit and run ops hurt the forward supply lines and crippled the artillery support. Only occasionally did they hit Sherman convoys. They had run out of fuel and ammunition and were left stranded along the tree line. The infantry escort of the crew was confused. The women were beautiful and young but they were very much the enemy. Many wanted revenge for what they’ve done, others wanted them, and others worried about where they would be barred. Mini vouched for Griffin and made sure that it was known he and Emilie were lovers. The scientists were very cautious about that. They have had instances before but the thought scared many of them. The huge size difference is their main concern; sex isn’t the problem but rather pregnancy. They were afraid that pregnancy would obliterate the woman and kill her. They closely monitored Emilie’s health and asked many personal questions, they soon learned that Griffin and she actually have never done anything because they shared the same fears. The scientists were at a standstill, they couldn’t decide whether or not to let them try sex and use them for very intensive research or to not let them have sex and to play it safe. Griffin held Emilie against his turret mantle and her face was burrowed in his mantle and she felt the fear envelope her body, while he tried to comfort her and make her carefree again he was also scared.
“Grif, I want to know but I’m scared. I’m literally shaking with fear! What are we going to do!?”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry, I won’t dare let harm come to you. If we do this, tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop instantly. We can find other ways to love.” He stroked her head and held her hand. She was sitting in front of his gunner’s sight and way leaning into the corner of his gun and gun mantle. His warmth emanated off of him and warmed her face and hands and kept that source close.
“I think we should try, try it someday.”
“I do want children, but when? But how?”
“Emilie we can adopt, we can raise a beautiful child we find. There are many children that need parents now, especially now.”
“I know, but I want our own child, one of us.” She was crying into Griffin. He comforted her as best he could; he was fine with adopting, he looked forward to the day when he and Emilie could come home with a baby that had no home. He wanted to raise a child with Emilie, he wanted a child. This he was not at all scared about. His gentle caresses and soothing composure encouraged Emilie to calm down. She soon spread herself under his mantle and tucked herself under the huge plate and gun to sleep.
“If you’re willing to try then I am, too.”
“If they want to research it then we will. But I’m still scared, Griffin.”
“I am, too.”
The next morning a scientist came forth and said that if Griffin and Emilie were alright with it then they would research the male machine and female human sex relationship. Griffin and Emilie conversed quietly for a minute. They decided to research the sex. Griffin and Emilie and the scientist were all a little tense. Sex can be an awkward topic but when it’s done for research and there’s a chance that Emilie could die so there will be a medic nearby, that’s extremely discomforting. The scientist ran through some preliminary checkups on Emilie, found her to be healthy enough for sex, and she left after telling them they can back out anytime. They waited for nighttime to fall when they would try; they very carefully planned it out with each other. They ran through many scenarios and possibilities. After dusk and alone in a wooded area the two threw a tent cover over Griffin’s turret roof with his gun acting as a beam. He constantly moved something and kept his engine on so he could generate as much body heat as possible, once it was nice and toasty inside their little tent Emilie climbed inside and began undressing. She had gotten off her heavy jacket and her boots and placed them outside the tent when she had more second thoughts.
“Griffin I’m still scared, I-I-I-I just-I don’t know.” She was getting frustrated with herself, and Griffin was trying to keep her cool.
“Emilie, we don’t have to do this, like I said before, we can find other ways to love.” She still continued to undress, her blouse had come off and she was taking off her pants when he promised her again he wouldn’t hurt her. She was down to her bra, panties, and socks. Her bra and panties were white and her socks black, she took her dark brown hair out of its bun and let it fall down to its length below her shoulders. Doubt still shrouded her completion and Griffin knew this, he could clearly see it. “Emilie,” he started, “I love you, I don’t want anything to hurt you. Not even myself.”
“I love you, too, Griffin.” She leaned into him and kissed his mantle; she looked at herself and giggled. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful.” He stroked her long hair and held it to her cheek. “Absolutely beautiful.” She blushed.
“You do the rest, undress me Griffin.” Griffin hesitated; he slowly reached to her feet and rolled her socks off, his warm metal deck made her cold toes feel good. He reached around her back and undid the latches on her bra, the warm air in their tent flooded around her breasts and her excitement hardened her nipples. He then reached to her panties; they were already a little wet from Emilie’s anticipation. He grabbed the outer side of each leg and gently pulled them to her ankles and slid them off her feet. She was now completely nude. She leaned in to his mantle and kissed it again. “I’m ready, baby.”
Griffin grabbed her shoulders and carried them to his deck; he turned her head and slid her under his mantle to his lips behind it. They locked into a kiss as his driver’s hatch cautiously open just enough to slide his stiff cock out from inside his cabin. Once their kiss was over he slid her out and she admired his size, it was tall and thick with a blunt curve for the head. It looked a lot like his tendrils but much larger. She turned around so that her head was closest to it; she grabbed his base with one hand and fondled her breast with the other as she licked up and down his size. One of Griffin’s tendrils snaked out and comforted her vagina as her mouth comforted his cock. He was about twelve inches long, and a circumference of maybe seven or eight inches. He’s big, she thought to herself as she sucked some of his precum out of his head, but not too big, we can make this work. Oh yeah, we’ll fuck.
Once he was all lubed up with his precum and her vagina was soaked she turned around and laid down on her back. She said to put it in, to put it in slowly. He held her hips and spread her legs, he watched in anticipation as his cock inched towards her vagina. His head touched her lips and she moaned, she grunted and huffed as he rubbed his cock on her wonderful lips and pushed his way into her body. She was impressively tight, Griffin felt like he was in heaven and her moans and grunts and huffs concerned him to where he wouldn’t shoot into her like he wanted to. He had manipulators grab her soft and plush C cup breasts and play with them as a tendril snaked through her pubic hairs to play with her clit. Her moans soon overpowered her grunts and huffs, and before he knew it Griffin had his cock all the way inside her tender pussy and had caused a minute bulge where his cock lies. He felt how hot she was, how amazingly tight she was, how wet she was, how fucking hot she looked, he wanted to show her just how much she turned him on but knew that would probably kill her. He held her ankles and spread her legs even more, trying to make room inside her to pump her, but when he tried to pump her she cried for him to wait. She wanted her body to adjust to his size so it would be better. He decided he could wait some more and while her vagina deflated and adjusted he talked to her.
“How do you feel?”
“Amazing! So big! So hard! Oh my god it’s huge!”
“Does it hurt?” His cock twitched as it let go of some more precum.
“A little,” she hesitated and moaned, “ohhhh-uuuhhhmmm, not that bad. Just big!” She wriggled to try and get off while she waited, all it did was tease her more and force him out a little more, she pushed off his mantle back onto his cock, rapidly breathing as her vagina engulfed his cock even more. “FFFFFFFuuuuck!” Griffin grunted and sighed before he massaged her body, not just sexually but to comfort her in her stressed state. She waited there for who knows how long, she slowly felt his massive size becoming less and less. “You aren’t going soft on me, are you?” He flexed his cock.
“No.” It inflated a little; he was still hard as ever. “Does it feel smaller?”
“Yeah.” He pulled it out slowly, moaning with her, and drove it back in, grunting with her. He picked up pace until her moans were high pitched and loud, then he relaxed and enjoyed the sex as he moaned away. He pumped her in and out, steady and firm. She grabbed his mantle and her hatch and braced herself for his humps. She was filled with such dopamine and ecstasy; his big hard cock throbbed with every push and heightened those pleasurable feelings. He pumped and pumped and rubbed and rubbed her, he held her breasts and rubbed her clit making sure she felt the desire to do this again later on.
She soon started chanting “don’t stop, don’t stop,” until she squeaked and moaned and sighed as she came hard on him. He himself had felt her climax coming he was more focused on his climax that was slowly rising. He continued pumping into her until his shivering cock was on the brink; he grunted as he rushed out and finished on her crotch, stomach, and chest. His hot semen tingled on Emilie’s body and warmed her. She grabbed his cock with her legs that had been sprawled out around the driver’s hatch and pulled her legs and his cock to her body. “That was amazing, Griffin!” She was breathing heavy and still grabbing his mantle. Griffin pulled in her clothes and pressed them against his body to warm them. While he did that they made out and Emilie tasted his sperm. “Mmmm, I like that.” They dressed, cleaned up, and checked in with the doctors.
Fin Ch 44
You like it? How’d I do here?
This is a HaM side story, something vulgar and new. Scroll down to the bottom or read through it all to learn why I wrote this.
Thirty-Four crept across the tree line against a field; her crew was on edge and was trying their hardest to see out of the vision blocks. Even though she was a newer T-34, a T-34-76 with improved vision gear her crew still had problems with the lack of ability to see out of the tank. Her small team she was part of was just hit by a German gun, a big one, too. She saw that she could escape to the hills just across the field and the gun couldn’t hit her. She suggested it to the crew, the commander thought, looked around, and gave the go ahead. She ramped up her engine and threw herself across the field in an adrenaline fueled rush of power. She saw the hill come into view, she saw it coming closer and closer, saw it slowly drift to her right. She saw the scariest thing in the world on the other side.
One shot rang from Dev’s gun. One shot was all an eighty-eight needs. It hit right in the middle of the Russian tank’s hull and he knew that killed everyone inside. The tank came grinding to a halt in front of him; Dev couldn’t help but smile. This, he thought, is why I work best alone. He noticed instantly that the tank was quivering; he loaded another shot-HE-and aimed. He thought about how easy it was to kill a Russian. They’re so mindlessly predictable, they’re so weak, they’re so.., so small..,
“No! Please!” She screamed out. “Don’t hurt me; I’ll do anything you want!” Anything?
“Turn around and lift your tailpipe.” He commanded.
Thirty-Four was terrified; she knew what was going to happen. Is it worth it? She decided it was, she turned around very slow, painfully slow, and the whole time Dev was thinking of everything he could do with her. He licked his lips as Thirty-Four’s shivering body finally stopped turning and he let out his monster bow cock. It was already oozing out his precum; it dripped from his fat tip to the dirt beneath him. Thirty-Four had raised her stern and was bracing for it, for anything. She shook the dead body remnants of her disembodied crew in hopes that one could be alive. None of her old crew was alive. She was all alone, alone with whatever this tank wanted.
Dev grabbed her stern just so she couldn’t go anywhere; there was a wooden board where her precious treasure was, and so he ripped he board off and chucked it away like it was a Frisbee. Thirty-Four’s lips trembled, she became ‘pale’ and her suspension shook in fear. Dev’s hands couldn’t resist the temptation; his hands reached for and grabbed her pussy lips and moved them around. So soft! So small! Thirty-Four knew it was going to happen, she soon began to cry softly but she tried to hold her own, she tried to stand proud even still. Dev probed her twat with his fingers and spread them apart to look at just how tight she really was and his cock instantly ached at first sight. He was staring down her deep long channel and noticed how dry it looked. He simply knew she was too dry to have any fun so he toyed with her twat and rolled over her clit ball, feeling her quiver and resist in his hands and arms strengthened his desire to use her to his dirty desire.
“Please, please, sir! Please don’t! Anything else but that, please!” She pleaded as her cooling fluids began cooling her vagina more and more, against her will she was ready for it. She cried even more, Dev didn’t care; she was his slave to his every whim.
His cock could wait no longer; even though she continued to plead against it he moved her more onto his bow and lined his cock up with the hole. Her lips were being held apart by two hands and his cock was being guided by one hand. He pressed his head against her hole and let her lips close down on his head, she screamed for him to stop, she begged with every weld in her body. He didn’t care. He forced his way deep into her pussy letting out a long drawn moan and a grunt as he reached her cervix. He knew that if he went in she might get pregnant but the idea of what it’ll feel like overcame all his sympathy. He grunted and forced his way into her cervix. She stood no more. She gave in, she knew he wouldn’t stop, she let her suspension go, she let her emotions go, she began to cry and scream as Dev fucked her pussy hard. He humped her hard or he used his arms to pick her up and down his massive size. His presence hurt her with how big he was and she felt his hot inside eke out inside her so small in amount but so constantly in time. Her vagina cursed her for not letting him enter sooner but she hated herself for the occasional moan of pleasure, she couldn’t help the fact that the sex felt nice. Even though it was rape she still felt all the desires she’s had come to life again and beg her to get more. She was at war with herself now, fighting to beat those good feelings away.
Dev felt her tight, tight pussy grab onto his cock and yet felt how she hated his presence. It made him even more enthusiastic. His humps grew faster and harder and he felt her get wetter and wetter, her pussy was telling him how much she wanted his dick but her screams and cries told him she hated him and wanted him to just go away. He listened to his own wants and let his humps grow stronger and harder, pulling her down on his hard cock at the same time. Slowly he feels his climax approaching. He felt it build and build until his manners took over and he raced out and stuck his cock against her left tailpipe. He moaned very loud as he came onto her ass and into her tailpipe. He pulled off and admired his spray and decided another run would be amazing, and finishing deep, deep inside would be awesome. He felt Thirty-Four start to rejoice; she thought that it was all over, that she would be relatively unscarred by this. She was very, very wrong.
He smacked his cock against her spread pussy lips and noticed she started to cry again. He stuffed himself deep inside her again and moaned aloud, relaxing and stiffening again inside her. He took this moment to grope her clit and her right tailpipe while he pumped his cock tiff. He felt her pussy constrict on him, he felt it grow hotter and felt her quiver more. ”Oh, yes! Cum! Cum for me! Do it! Do it you fucking slut!” She felt extremely ashamed, she screamed as she came on him, then as she wound down she cried and tried to claw her body off of him but he held her tight. He fucked her slow and steady, making sure she really felt him ooze out his second dose of precum and feel every inch of his huge cock. He steadily felt his climax rise up, the feelings made his eyes roll into the back of his mantle. All of a sudden Thirty-Four felt a huge amount of hot fluids fill her deep insides. She was shocked; her pussy finally cried out in pleasure but she knew the consequences, she knew what followed. She trembled with fear. Dev kept her there for at least a minute as he filled her more and more, she cried aloud and wailed to the skies. As soon as Dev let her go she threw herself off of him and her hull dropped to the ground. Dev had his cock standing tall and proud, covered in his cum and her coolant.
“Look at it!” He commanded. She ignored him, he moved closer to her as she tried to move away. “Look at it!” He grabbed her gun barrel and pulled it to the side towards him. Her green eyes looked into his brown pleading no more, pleading for him to just go away. “Look at it! Look at how big it is.” He waved his cock in front of her face, she tried to look around it but it was big and it caught her mind, that is what just ruined my life. He made sure she noticed it by smacking it against her face. “Lick it, lick it clean you slut!”
“No!” She screamed. “No! Go away! Go aw-ay-y!” She cried again, the warm tears rolled down his long shaft.
“Lick. It.” He ordered, with a trembling tongue she licked his shaft and pulled it back in, he ordered her to lick every inch of it. She was forced to obey. She licked from bottom to top and when she reached the top more of his cum would glop out either onto her tongue or her turret or face. Once he was clean he smiled wide and backed off, admiring the work he had done and wished he had a camera. She was crying and staring at the ground with his cum on her turret and face, some on her ass and oozing from her left tailpipe, and a tail of it oozing from her spread pussy. He turned and drove off, leaving Thirty-Four do deal with the aftermath.
Thirty-Four regained herself around midnight that night and looked for any comforting thing she could find. Her usual friends weren’t there to ease her distress, the moon was dark and barren, the clouds were soulless and still, the animals were nowhere, the grass was evasive and stiff, she was alone. Tears uncontrollably streamed down from her dim and dull green eyes and her whole body aches and quivered knowing what had happened, her vagina seemed to be on fire and crying itself now knowing what it had done. Her wound on her chest burned and throbbed, she saw herself barely bleeding from it and covered it with the saw from her side. Her body barely complied with her, so much distress and anxiety and terror filled her mind and heart, and her clouded mind couldn’t think of what to do. Every now and again she would completely stop and drop her hull and cry, wail, bawl, then move again. She knew that she wasn’t as good as the German tanks, they could go well over 200 kilometers no problem, but she remembers barely going 20 before something on a T-34 broke; much less than that she barely had any fuel left, she was stranded.
At around dawn she felt a tight and churning pain in her gut, her mouth watered, and she felt the need to put metal in her mouth. She tried ignoring it for a while but the pain grew and grew and grew, festering and festering and festering until she could stand it no more. She searched around for anything metal but found only herself in the tall grasses. She remembered she still had ammunition, she cautiously plucked a shell from her rack and moved it through the remnants of her only company and handed it out of her driver’s hatch. She stared at it, her mouth watered even more, just looking at it made her gut make a strange growling sound. As she opened her mouth and moved the shell to her mouth she shivered in terror and anticipation, she hesitated but suddenly bit down on the round and ripped it out of the canister. Pouring out the black gunpowder she thought of how good the shot tasted, the iron tang and the steel whirl filled her mouth making her smile, she bit into the brass canister and fell in love with the taste. She bit more furiously until she had devoured the whole shot. As she swallowed the final bite she felt better but she was still hungry, she went for her shots and ate three more by snapping the shot out and dumping the powder on the ground while chewing that shot. Once she had eaten the shots she moved on to the main course and devoured the canisters just like the first one. She felt satisfied and got a little creative, the little mound of gunpowder on the ground sparked her curiosity and she tried picking up a pinch. It slipped like sand between her fingers; she licked her fingers and tried again. This time it worked and she had a coating of gunpowder on her finger, she stuck her tongue to it and instantly reeled back. She spat at the ground and shook the powder off her finger; it was a very bitter and foul taste in her mouth. She moved on, not quite sure where she was heading however, and thought of what was going to happen to her. She figured she was going to get even hungrier and realized that her ammunition would not subsidize enough. She only knew one place where for sure she could get enough metal, only one place: her dead unit.
She moved back to them and came across the four other tanks, the fires that once ensured their destruction had long ago burnt out, but knew they still had diesel in their fuel tanks. She looked upon the dead crews and saw that some scavengers had made the dead a meal, she felt sick to her stomach at how they looked. She was disgusted by that but her thoughts of how she was to feed herself disgusted her even more. As she looked on the dead metal T-34s she knew that eventually she would nourish herself with them. It scared her out of her mind, it felt like cannibalism, like something very wrong. It felt like a sin yet it is the only option she has. She began to cry again, not only was she defiled and her pride destroyed, but now she must turn cannibal to survive, she cursed herself, she dammed that Tiger and she bawled until dusk, screaming curses and damnations upon the world. That night she did indeed grow hungry again, she tried putting it off as long as possible but she eventually gave in. She grabbed at a first production T-34’s gun and tried ripping it from its socket. Instead of giving out it stayed firm, she grew furious and enraged and shook the tank hulk and beat at it until the whole turret was sheared off of its mount. She breathes heavily while looking upon her work, she exposed the two dead crewmen slumped over in their seats, and their outfits dirty and bloody and shredded by the shrapnel of a penetrating 88 millimeter round. She dropped the heavy turret to the ground and jerked off the hatch and began eating that. Sitting there eating one of her own made her cry, she sobbed as she ate the hatch and felt mournful for all the dead crewmen slaughtered by that German monster! She grew extreme hatred towards him, towards the Germans, towards the war. She munched on the T-34 hatch and thought about how much she hated that Tiger tank for an hour.
A few days later she noticed she craved different metals and materials. She noticed this because she would feel hungry and think about a material and whenever she looked at that material she became really hungry. She had eaten steel, iron, brass, copper, tin, gold, other various metals and even the rubber off of the wheels. This time it sickened her to her core, she couldn’t stop thinking about flesh, about meat, she wanted it and when she thought of it her mouth watered. She had almost no meat around, she let out all the dead crewmen from the other tanks and they had been mostly eaten away by animals in the night. She did have some meat left, she still had her crew. She was growing hungrier and hungrier but she refused, she absolutely refused. They were all she had left, she talked to them, she thought them as her close friends and she refused to eat and destroy her friends. It started in the morning and by dusk she was crazy, the hunger and pain were driving her up a wall. She gave in and pulled out a rotting arm from the driver, it had a gold band on the second longest finger and shards of her and that German’s round in his flesh. As she looked at the piece of man she broke into tears, she wept hard again and started yelling out ‘why?’ to the heavens. She could stand no more, both physically, emotionally, and mentally, and she collapsed and gave in. She slowly, with trembling hands, moved the ugly and rotting arm to her shaking mouth and wept her eyes out as she shut them tightly, for she couldn’t stand to watch herself do this, and thus let her jaws sink into the flesh of her friend. She hated herself for enjoying the texture and taste, she wanted to die right there as she chewed on the flesh and bone of her crewman, and she wished that she was never even made while she swallowed. She quivered and shook madly as she ate the rest of the arm, bone and clothes included. She hoped that she would just eat that, no more flesh, no more of that, but when she still felt that want she lost all hope. A week after their encounter Dev had wholly broken Thirty-Four and everything she had, pride, hope, joy, wonder, all were destroyed because of him. She vowed to find him one day, she vowed that Stalin would send those fascist bastards back to Germany, back to Hitler, back to their families, back all in boxes and pieces. She had a burning passionate hatred; no she despised him with a veil of apathy. No amount of words from any language on the world has a word to describe exactly what intense animosity she held for that coward, that German Nazi coward.
She woke up one night in a panic, she felt absolutely terrible, like her insides were on fire and she just had to get it all out. She scrambled and chucked whatever she could out of her hatches regardless of what it was, rotting corpses, live ammunition, spent casings, a handle, some tools, all were chucked out. Once she had essentially gutted herself she caught her breath and looked at her dead friends. Even though she had grown cold to seeing their dead flesh, she had by this time eaten much of the loose body limbs, seeing them thrown about moved her. Their faces were in shock and horror, stiffened and froze in their final breathing moments when they were staring into the face of that German Nazi coward. She felt in the morning why she had that huge urge to gut her cabin, and that reason was because her cabin locked down and the whole assembly for the commander and loader were folded into her turret with a new floor at her turret ring. This discovery both excited her and scared her. She again was hungry and as she was eating some engine parts she worried how heavy she would get and how she would feed herself meat if she had to. She had pulled out her bow gun in her frenzy and all of its ammunition, but how was she going to use it well? She had no clue how to shoulder a weapon (it doesn’t even have a butt stock and she tried to shoulder it) nor how she was going to aim it from her ‘shoulder.’ She was playing around with positions when she tried putting it between her eyes like her main gun. She realized she didn’t have to use that anymore and so she opened the breech and stuffed the machine gun into the breach, it was a little awkward but she figured this would work best. She practiced loading it and decided to try some target practice while she could. She used a tree as her target and used her hand to carve an ‘X’ into the wood. She backed off about thirty yards and fired in bursts to learn exactly where it spread: to the left and down. From there she practiced using her natural point of aim to point her 76 millimeter on the target and from there adjusted to the right and up. Once she had gained a sense of mastery over her aim she decided to hunt for food. No, she thought, ambush. She gathered up her dead comrades and piled them up under the tree sat back very still, and waited. She knew the wolves would be back, all she had to do was wait. Eventually her patience paid for itself and she nabbed two wolves with one burst. She victoriously approached the wolves and ensured they were dead. With that she saved a few pieces for later bait and finally decided to bury her deceased comrades like she did the others.
“Rest in peace, friends.” She finally let herself have peace; she no longer clung to the dead and found herself a sense of self-reliance. That night she rejoiced about not having to eat her friends any longer and gorged down on wolf meat.
Months passed, she ate meat only a little bit once a month from that first wolf night on and mostly metal and rubber with a couple bits of glass scattered here and there. She ate the entire turret of two T-34s and their guns, lights, and electrical systems. Every now and then she would snack on her favorite dessert: brass casings, but her meals mostly consisted of the cold cast steel of the turrets and hatches with rubber sides. She had gained a few tons and had grown very immobile, she feared that she was soon due and worried with fear and hatred of the result. She constantly had nightmares where it was a little Tiger like its father; she knew she would hate it. But all this work and all to kill this innocent child? Either way she looked she still made a long knife blade-like weapon from the side panel of a turretless tank. One afternoon she felt strange feelings inside her, it was closer to finishing. That following morning she went into labor, she screamed at the top of her lungs with pain, she cursed that German Nazi coward and her designers for the pain, it felt like her engine was being shat out her tailpipes, she pushed hard, she pushed and pushed and screamed until she felt the baby exit her body. What was happening was her womb was in her cabin at the front while her vagina and uterus are along her belly under the engine, her whole engine block was moved around the baby as it exited. Her whole entire body ached, it burned with anger, it quivered with anticipation, and as she pulled the baby around by the road wheels she drew her weapon. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth; the baby was in front of her now squirming around and grabbing at her hands. She raised her blade and opened her eyes. She saw a tiny T-34-76, just like her. Her arms buckled and dropped the blade off to the side of her, she couldn’t kill this. She instantly felt rewarded; she lashed at her baby and pulled it up and on her chest right under her chin. Her eyes were tightly shut and streaming tears. She opened them and admired the hot bundle of a baby in her arms; it was only a sixth of her size and a dull gray mostly with silver areas. She noticed that the silver areas were just her placenta fluids. She cleaned her baby with her hands and tried her best to shield it from the cold springtime air of the night.
She found its eye sockets and cleaned them off, soon and shakily they opened and revealed amazing brown eyes, she instantly wanted to name it Alyona but didn’t know what her baby’s gender was yet. She searched around the butt plate for a slit but didn’t find anything. She prayed that the brown eyes were the only trait that it possessed and searched the front lower plate. She found a slit and gently inserted a finger to find something, she did find a penis, and she had a beautiful baby boy! She rejoiced that it shared Russian anatomy and thought about a name for a boy. She came up with Adler. She hugged him and carried him to the two T-34s she used to shield herself from the winter winds and build fires by. She quickly made a fire with the still working spark plugs from the T-34 and put Adler next to the fire and blocked him from the wind. She continued cleaning him and noticed how upset he was.
“What’s wrong, Adler? Are you cold?” She moved him closer to the fire but he scooted back to her and grabbed at her tendrils and tried putting them into his mouth. She hesitated because of how sharp his teeth already were and what she has done to thicker metal. She realized he was hungry instantly but wasn’t sure what to do. She had her feeding tendrils under her tow hooks and felt them grow thicker and heavier as she grew closer to birthing Adler. She put one up to Adler’s lips and braced for the pain but none came. Instead he grabbed it with his lips and sucked on it, Thirty-Four felt her ‘milk’ slip into Adler’s mouth. He slowly sucked less and less until he had fallen asleep. Thirty-Four slowly plucked her nipple from his mouth and retrieved it. She, too, was exhausted and wanted to just go to sleep. She pulled her son up onto her chest and held him tight and she scooted up to the fire to keep him warm. She watched him sleep in her arms as she herself drifted to sleep.
She loved her son; she loved him more than she loved anything else in the world, more than Stalin, more than Russia, more than herself. She would do anything for him, he was her sole joy, her sole pride, her sole family and sole friend. Every day she talked to him, teaching him what she knew, helping him speak, helping him learn to crawl, rigging belts from his drive wheel to his rear road wheel so he could move using his stronger drive ability. She cared and nurtured his every need. There were nights when she felt the smallest sliver of thankfulness of that German. Only the smallest sliver. Of all the things she would teach him she would not teach him anything about where Adler came from.
“Momma, where did I come from?”
“Let’s not worry about that right now, Adler, how many bullets are in my hand?” He looked into her hand and poked at each of the machine gun bullets in her hand.
“Very good! You’re such a smart boy!”
One morning in the summer Adler was awoken by a small and warm hand on his side. He opened his eyes and there was a strange animal next to him, there were two of them. They both were dirty and had tan skin with no hair on them but around their head and had green chests and black legs. They smiled at him, one waved at him and the other put down his long brown rifle and fumbled around in his side toolbox.
“Hallo. Wie lautet dein name?” The one that touched him said, Adler wasn’t really sure what he said but he thought he knew. He thought he asked what his name was.
“Adler.” The one that was fumbling around in his toolbox pulled out a big bearing and shook it at him.
“Sie möchten Ball spielen?” Adler had no idea what he said that time. He was surely asking a question, though. The two strange animals gestured for him to watch, they tossed the bearing between them. They wanted him to play catch with them. He smiled and shook his gun up and down. The two animals smiled and tossed the bearing to Adler. He expected to be a lot heavier with its size but it was really light, maybe as heavy as a wrench. It also felt strange, it was not metal. He passed it back to the one who was furthest. They passed it between them for a little while. Thirty-Four woke up to Adler’s giggling.
“What’re you up to?” She looked over to where he was giggling and saw two German soldiers next to him. “ADLER GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She yelled sternly as she charged to him. The smiling soldiers instantly became terrified and turned to run, gathering their rifles and running off as fast as they could. Adler was scared, too.
“Mommy why? Why did you scare them away!?” She grabbed a hold of him and drug him to her side, she was breathing hard and looked angry.
“They are bad people! Do not trust them, Adler, they are nothing but rats! Terrible rats!” He didn’t feel the same way, they had done nothing to him but play with him.
“But they were nice, mommy. They didn’t seem bad to me.”
“Quiet Adler! They are all terrible rats at their core!” She went back to fix him some breakfast and left him there. He moved up and picked up the discarded bearing. He examined it with his brown eyes very carefully, he couldn’t deduce where this bearing would go so he took it to his mother. She was still angry and was ripping the metal bits off of the T-34 that had its engine deck missing; he always wondered why they were like that.
“Momma, what’s this bearing?” He handed her the bearing and she instantly knew it was not a bearing.
“This is no bearing, Adler. This is a ball. Where did you get this?”
“I was playing with the Germans with that, it’s a ball? What’s a ball?”
“It’s a game piece; you use it to play games like catch. Don’t play with those Nazi rats again.” He was quiet as she made the shards of metal into chips for Adler.
“What’s a Nazi?”
“A German. A fascist. They invade other countries and kill their people. Their disgusting leader is Hitler; he’s the Nazi that Russia will kill for the justice of the world!” She said this so pridefully, Adler still didn’t understand completely. Thirty-Four sighed in anguish. “The Nazis control this Russian soil.”
“So did Nazis do this?” He pointed at a shot hole in one of the T-34’s hull.
“Yes Adler. Cowardly Nazis did that.” She said coldly, “here’s your breakfast, Adler. Eat up.” She said blankly. She handed him his plate, an armored hatch off one of the turrets, and on that plate was the chips of armor. Adler ate his breakfast with haste and was soon ready for the day. Thirty-Four sent him off to do his tasks, collect firewood, check the traps, and switch out the filled water collectors for empty ones. That was all he had to do every day. Thirty four didn’t do as much moving but she prepared his meals and kept a close watch on him and coached him with his mobility. He never would stray too far from his mother so she could keep an eye on him and she would never take an eye off him. After the chores were done they would play games like catch or sword fight with sticks but after that she would teach him lessons like counting, vocabulary, terminology, and what little history she knew. Whenever he asked a question she didn’t know the answer to she would try her best to make one. After the lesson was usually dinner time where she fed him and they cuddled up to each other. That was Adler’s favorite time, he loved his mom and loved being in her arms, he always felt good in her arms.
Months passed and Thirty-Four soon heard explosions and fighting in the distance, she grew excited every time a battle erupted. Adler would cower in her arms whenever he heard the explosions and would think of a nightmarish creature a thousand feet high stepping on T-34s with a wicked chattering laugh like his mother’s machine gun. Thirty-Four stayed up most nights and it all paid off one night: the triumphant Red Army had liberated her and her son! She saw brand new and intimidating T-34 tanks proudly carrying their big and long guns in the air and red banners waving in the wind. Trucks upon trucks of battle ready infantry moved past her, she woke up Adler and showed him Stalin’s proud army. She pointed out whatever she could, the heavy KV tanks still left, the AT guns, the infantry, the new T-34 tank. He was in awe of it all while his mother was inspired to steam roll the pathetic German lines.
“Are you lost?” A big tank stopped and spoke to Thirty-Four, she seemed powerful and strong. She saw the wrecked shambles of T-34s and caught a glimmer of Thirty-Four’s gray shot hole. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” she said excitedly as she turned towards her and brought Adler along her side, “we’re fine.”
“Who are you?” Adler asked.
“Shellproof.” Suddenly she spurred ahead, yelled at by an angry crew. “Come along! Follow me!” Thirty-Four put Adler on her chest and followed Shellproof, happy that she always kept her fuel tanks full. She brought her engine to life and quickly caught up to Shellproof’s side.
“So what has changed?”
“Since?” Thirty-Four thought hard, when did she fall out of time? She backtracked two winters, one pregnant and one with Adler, and figured around summer 1942. “Well we lost ground, we got it back, we got bigger and better tanks like myself and the T-34-85.”
“An 85 gun?”
“Yes, that’s what I have; I’m the new heavy tank. I’m a Iosif Stalin One. I share the same gun as the T-34s there.”
“So why did we put the 85 on the tanks?”
“To kill Tigers at their fronts.” A devilish smile came over Thirty-Four, she closed her eyes and fascinated herself with the sight of his destruction. She opened her eyes and followed Shellproof on her journey.
“We’re in good hands now, Adler, we will be fine.” She rocked Adler to sleep on her chest and stuck with her newfound unit, staying close to Shellproof when she wasn’t in combat. Even though she wasn’t treated the best, neither was Adler, many soldiers helped her and we’re kind to her, helping feed Adler.
Fin The East
I did this not only as an origin story for future characters but because I feel like I’ve put too much innocence on the Germans and made them out to be the good guys. This is to show that they raped and pillaged, to show that the German army did bad things. That said so did the Russians, and the British, and probably the Americans, too. I say probably because I’ve neither read nor heard anything of rape or pillaging by U.S. forces in the theaters of WWII, but that may have been censored by officials, while there is definite evidence of rape and pillaging in Vietnam. So the chances of it in WWII are just as strong. Will I write about rape again? Probably not. No side on the war was clean and pretty, both for sure carpet bombed unarmed and peaceful cities and both also fought to protect those people. What matters in the end is that the corrupt Nazis were ended; the atrocities the Nazis committed make this rape, make Al Qaeda, make ISIS look like children in over their heads. The SS would laugh at the threats of ISIS, the beheading of their innocent people would fill them with rage but not one would flinch. After, they would raid a village with no connection to ISIS, other than country and religion, round up every man in a mosque, every woman and child in big houses, and chuck grenades and bombs into the buildings, fire their weapons through the walls and barred door, then end with blazing the whole village until ash remained. Then they would feast on top of the ashes and have a merry time before they moved on to rinse and repeat at another village until they felt vengeance had been reached. This is the things the SS divisions like ‘Das Reich’ did, other atrocities included hanging 119 men from the street lamps and posts, of only 2 were resistance fighters, rounding up ‘Jews’ and using firing squads to kill them, either leaving the dead there or killing them atop a mass grave. The things they did were indescribable and hopefully will only be seen by footage and never again in the real, and yes the Wehrmacht did participate in this that was by enlistment and orders of SS officers. The whole reason why concentration camps were even conceived was because units on the eastern front were becoming so demoralized by all the mass shootings. No, not every Wehrmacht soldier knew about these atrocities, when walked through the concentration camps they were horrified just as much or more than the nearby citizens, the fact that they stood and bled and fought for that drove a few crazy and they committed suicide in the following years. Imagine the thought that your leader, the man or woman or idol that saved your nation, that saved your family from extreme poverty and rebuilt your life to prosperity and entrusted you to protect them and their belief for the betterment of the world. Now imagine walking through a death camp, the fences lined with bodies that stacked as tall as your house, nude and frail bodies barely breathing staring you in the eye. Imagine what hell that would do to you, the fact that you fought for this, and yet the SS that survived are still among us today and most aren’t even phased by it.