Tbh I am not the best colorist. This feels kinda like a Calvin and Hobbes Comic panel. Bet you didn’t know Brazil had tanks did you?
The theme of this is Motion. Basically inspired by Russian tank Athlon trick shots and high speed jumps.
https://id3486.securedata.net/fprado/armorsite/EE-T1-Osorio.htm
(also the train picture I did last year got misplaced so I re-posted it here. )
For an R/NCDer’ who was kind, and got my vibe. Here is your British lady. (A gender swap of the old black and white picture I made years ago) Scottish farm boy vs. Mecha Chariot GO!
When you look at this picture, Open this link and listen for the sound: https://youtu.be/ulK0qxn-ubM?t=15
Fun Notes about Havey B and his GOE girl, Swede x bandkanon1 gift, and “how to dragon your train” twitter meme.
which one is best? more humanoid? or more turret head hybrid synth bot?
Hello! It’s been quite a while… again, and I don’t have too much to show for it. I wish I had more, but a mix of writers block, poor motivation, and life’s gotten in the way of things. I hope I can start producing content more faithfully, but sadly I can’t promise anything. Excuses aside, here’s the next installment of Johnny and Tankovy’s story!
Enjoy!
Distressed VIII
Johnny had trouble getting up the next morning, his body was demanding more rest but he pushed through the aching and griping body. He had to go talk to Tankovy about his plan, and he had to build a good reputation for her with anyone he could. The first thing he did after leaving his tent was go see doc, as he was instructed. There he was given paperwork that exempted him from duties and physical training while he was recovering from his ailments. The doctor mentioned that his leg isn’t properly healed, but is healed enough to where it has to be broken again and reset, something that cannot be performed here. Then doc mentioned scarring around the legs and on his arm that looked like shrapnel damage. Johnny never noticed, it never really bothered him, he couldn’t really see it in her dark cabin and when he was outside he had no reason to look for it. Doc said the X-rays didn’t find any shrapnel, and since Johnny had no idea about it, Tankovy must have also removed all his shrapnel. The principle doctor was supposed to interview her to learn what she did to treat Johnny, and how she did it, and now he’s going to inquire about all the damages she found on Johnny. He asked the doctor if it all would be going on record, which it was, and asked how it would affect the command’s views on the Tank. The doctor asked why he was so interested in the tank, his kidnapper.
“Well, in the end I guess you could say the goal was worth it. We blew up a whole terrorist compound, she kinda got her freedom, and I saw more action than almost anyone here, technically. So I’d say it’s a win all around, a fucked up win, but a win.”
“Maybe, but do the ends justify the means? Reeves, that tank blew you up first, kidnapped you and held you hostage for damn near a year, then it forced you to comply in it’s schemes, whatever that may have been. Reeves, that’s fucked.”
“Maybe, but the tank’s been through a lot, too, and is Russian, besides, being blown up is just a fact of life in Russia-“ he put on his best Russian accent for his justification, it got the doctor to grin a little bit, “but really, she’s been through some shit, betrayal, abandoned, stolen, lied to, assaulted, exiled, she’s pretty rough around the edges. Things just don’t work up here” he pointed at his head, “for her the way it does for you and me.”
“So are you saying she’s crazy?” Johnny shook his head.
“Nah, I’d say, desperate. I’d say she’s distressed. Not thinking right. To pass time she’d tell me stories from her life, and it’s been a long thirty years for her. Y’know?” The doctor nodded slowly, pondering it.
“When you put it that way, thirty years in the service, with how crazy the Russians are, I guess any line of irrational thinking is expected. So other than the shrapnel and the mind fuck, any other concerns you want to talk about?”
“Yeah I would keep breaking out in rashes but they’d go away after a few weeks, but come back a few weeks later. They’re all gone now.”
“That’s probably from not bathing. How would you clean yourself?”
“Poorly.” He simply put. “Like a wet rag every week. Very unpleasant.”
“Clean water, I hope?”
“I don’t know. She said it didn’t come from the drinking water, that’s all she told me.” The doctor wrote down the fact and dismissed Reeves. He went straight over to Tankovy. He asked the Abrams guarding her if he could talk to Tankovy, the Abrams stared him down and warned him of no funny business.
There was two tankers going over Tankovy, poking at random bits and scrubbing corossion away, cleaning and preparing it nicely. What Johnny assumed was the new guy complained about having to essentially clean the prisoner’s feet, and what was assumed to be his senior supervisor reminded him to stop bitching and work. Johnny ignored them and asked Tankovy how she was doing. She was fine, enjoyed talking to the guards if they entertained it. Many good stories were shared. Johnny let her know about the doctor’s interview later and to think of good things to say. In a semi defeated tone she said she has nothing to hide. Johnny grew worried, she was not this deferated yesterday. He asked her what’s wrong, what broke her spirit? She asnwered him in a low tone, almost under her breath.
“Last night I asked if I could become American, and the Abrams did not think so, nor did anyone else I asked.”
“Why?” Johnny demanded.
“I think the Abrams said it best, he said that I’m still a property in America, and property has to be owned, property has to be bought.”
“What? What are you getting at?”
“Sure, I may be Russian, and old, and plentiful, but I’m still valuable, I have quite a big price tag on me. I asked what kind, he said a millionaire’s price. From there I figured out that while you’re paid better than my soldiers, you aren’t paid like millionaires.”
“So what? How does that affect you then?”
“So what? Johnny you can’t buy me out. I’m stuck with whatever the Army wants with me. If they don’t outright scrap me they’ll just use me as target practice, test new guns, new bombs, then dispose of me like trash.” Johnny’s heart turned black. “I should have just ditched you by the town and run.” Johnny had never felt guilty like this before, he, too, was crushed.
Six-Shooter patiently waited for the Major outside his office, the morning brief was just about to end and he had quite a lot to tell him about their new friend. The command staff dispersed to brief the companies and from there the platoons, and if by some miraculous virtue they’re still paying attention, the squads, for the next patrol. The major smiled at the Abrams and greeted him before getting down to business. Six began his debrief with the Major, going over everything he learned about Tankovy, her history, her motives, her views on current events, overall who she revealed to Six. The Major was stoic, unmoved by anything. His steel-trap memory recorded all the details of the interview and began forming an image of who he thought Tankovy was. Six concluded that Tankovy is scared, depressed, and poorly motivated anymore. With all her ordnance removed from her possession she is no serious risk to the base or the soldiers.
“So, she did all that to go home?” The major asked, just to clarify.
“Yes, sir. That was her original intention. However, Private Reeves told her she could become an American, swayed her to not go back to Russia. She liked that a lot, and even asked if that was a possibility.” The major shrugged.
“The articles forbid keeping war trophies anymore but nothing I’ve ever seen talks about talking tanks you dig up in the desert. I think it’s above me on that.”
“Sir if you mind, what are we looking to gain with a court marshall?”
“We’re just trying to get all the facts, from there we’ll see what happens. We know anything about Reeves? How’s he taking to this?”
“He doesn’t like the court marshall. He’s very defensive of the tank.” The major scoffed.
“Right now I’m going to chock that one up to Stockholm Syndrome. We’ll get to the bottom of it.” Six was still hooked on the idea that Johnny Reeves and Tankovy fucked, and he assumes it to have been a lot seeing how dedicated Johnny is to her, but he didn’t dare mention it to the major. “So,” the major began with a grin, “what do you think of her? Tickle your fancy?” Six laughed.
“Oh no, sir, she’s not my type.”
“Oh sure, you spend as long a time in this wasteland as you have I’d bet damn near anything with a pulse will get you going. You sure you aren’t gay?”
“Hey now, don’t get me confused with Rummi, he’s the gay one, not me.”
“Yeah, I know. I was just heckling you’s all.”
“If you’re curious, sir, I’m into those civilian sedans, the smaller the better. Get me a nice Miata and have lots of fun with her, just pick her up and do all sorts of fun things, my god, that’s wonderful!.”
“Alright I didn’t need to think about that, bit too much for me.” Six was dismissed and he went back to his little corner to get inspected and worked on, but he had to wait for the new guy to finish up with Tankovy before he could be worked on. He took a nap to pass time and dreampt about being serviced by three very dedicated and thurough Miata chicks.
Rummi dutifully stood post over Tankovy. He wasn’t as talkative as Six, but also wasn’t tasked with digging into who she was. He watched Johnny and her talk for at least and hour, all while that poor dumb sonuvabitch Morales worked on Tankovy, cleaning her up all nice and pretty. Jervis, his supervisor, called for Morales to wrap up what he was doing and head over to Six’s bay, they had shit to do on him and he was more important than Tankovy. Before he left, Tankovy called to Morales and thanked him with genuine gratitude. Morales, being the new guy and thus the crew’s bitch, was genuinely surprised and responded in kind, before trotting off grumbling about how only the prisoner’s thank him for anything. Jervis heckled him for being a bitch and the day went on as usual. Shortly after Johnny also walked away to handle his business. Then it was just silence. Tankovy, Rummi, and about five other partly conscious soldiers sweating their balls off in full kit wishing they were doing literally anything else.
“You don’t talk much.” Tankovy said to break the silence.
“Nope.” Rummi said bluntly. Tankovy sighed and thought of literally anything to say. She could talk to one of the soldiers but she found that the guy in front of her had mastered the art of sleeping standing up.
“What do you do for fun out here?”
“I play cards. And masturbate. That’s it.” Flattering. She thought.
“What’s your favorite game?” She asked to keep something going.
“Rummi.” He said.
“He loves it so much that’s also his name.” One of the more awake soldiers said.
“I’ve never heard of it. How do you play?”
“I don’t have cards. I can’t show you.” Rummi blurted.
“Hey man, you don’t gotta be such a dick, dude.” The soldier said again.
“What’s your name?” Tankovy asked him.
“I’m Xavier Brown, from Los Angeles, California. Who are you?”
“They just called me Tankovy, or Tank. I never really got a name. I’m from factory 183, in the Ural mountains, special projects division. If you ever meet another living T-72, we come from that plant.” Rummi couldn’t help but feel like a prick after that moment.
“Yeah, I’m from Kansas, there’s a factory out there that just churns out live tanks. They named me Oscar, if I remember correctly, but in the army there’s a tradition we got where the first crew names you, like for the deadmetal tanks, and they named me Rummi. They never knew my birth given name, I never told anyone.” Tankovy was shocked, the concept of being gifted a name at birth was something she didn’t think happened to anyone except people, and cats, and dogs. Xavier was also bemused.
“Oscar? What about you says you look like an Oscar?”
“Nothing, that’s just what they called me.”
“I’m sticking to Rummi.” Xavier said, another soldier who was mildly paying attention nodded, then grinned.
“Oscar the grouch. That’s where they got Oscar from!” Xavier laughed.
“Oscar the grouch! Even lives in a big can!” Rummi was tilted by that, he growled at Xavier, who didn’t stop laughing.
“Why did you not take your name?” Tankovy asked.
“Tradition. The deadmetals aren’t named until they get here, why should I be different?”
“Well, because you are different. You’re not dead, you live!” Tankovy exclaimed.
“Look, you have your traditions, I have mine.”
“Yeah he takes being an asshole as some sort of religious rite of passage. Fuckin dickhead.” The unnamed soldier said.
“Aren’t you the guy that owes me twenty bucks?” Rummi asked him sternly.
“I don’t owe you shit, Oscar.” Rummi began arguing with the soldier, Tankovy watched on with glee, excited that something was happening! Entertainment! At last! Soon she would be officially interrogated by some of the investigation team members, Johnny warned her, but for now, she was soaking up the show.
Fin Distressed VIII
I couldn’t fit everything in the last page. So i did this. Now everyone cums! Even Stryker Dragoon who synchronizes thrusts to the porn his Girl(Punk girl/Augustine) Is watching!
Hey y’all! I have finally completed another distressed chapter! Hooray! I know I’m somewhat neglecting The New Generation, I know, but the storyline I have for it doesn’t seem like a good thing to pursue right now with what the world’s doing, everything being kind of sensitive at the moment. I will write it eventually, but for now I have a less touchy subject, and I’m happy to write and share that! So here you are, Distressed VII!
Enjoy.
Distressed VII
Both of them were terrified. Almost instantly they were separated from each other. Johnathan was restrained and a bag put over his head while they took him into a small office room on base and Tankovy was forced into the courtyard area on base. There was a much larger security force on Tankovy for pretty obvious reasons, all her infantry guards had anti-tank weaponry, and an Abrams was on watch around the clock. Explosive ordnance disposal teams supervised her careful removal of all her ordnance. She only had six anti-armor type rounds and eleven high explosive rounds, strangely, she only had fourteen propellant charges. Well, strangely to them. It was the three other propellant bags she cannibalized for the bombs they used to escape. She had a staggering eight full belts of HMG ammo plus what was left over in the bin, and she had seven belts of ammunition for her coaxial machine gun, that turned out to have a broken recoil spring and thus was useless. She was stripped of her roof machine gun against her pleas and bargaining to just hand over the bolt and firing pin, her vast collection of parts and electronics were confiscated, her stowage bins were emptied out and her main gun was chained down to her bow.
She was especially petrified, she didn’t have Johnny with her to comfort her or speak on her behalf, she was locked up and in chains by the Americans, she has been told nothing of her fate, they’ve asked her nothing, they took everything from her and they won’t tell her what’s going to happen to Johnny. She started to cry. It seemed she was being abandoned, she’s not going to see Johnny again, there’s not going to be a pleasant trip to America, no citizenship, no family.
No home.
Johnny wasn’t as terrified as Tankovy, in fact, he wasn’t scared about his well being, but he was scared to death for Tankovy. He demanded that they get on and identify him already, he was repeatedly telling the other soldiers everything about him, who he is, his rank, what squad he was in, his social number, military ID number, his parents name, his home address, even his favorite meal to eat at his favorite restaurant, he just wanted them to let him go. It had been a long time since he had been back, long enough to where most of his friends rotated home. Some guys did know him and they barged in to see him, he recognized them and they would embrace and vouch for him. Eventually a Major showed up with a Captain and two Master Sergeants. They had a voice recorder, and a camera, why both is still unknown, and pads of paper and pens for recording. There were three gaurds, one being an MP, and a jug of water and a plate of crackers, that Johnny was nonstop munching on as food and a nervous tick. The entourage of men sat at the table across from Johnny. Then a Master Sergeant spoke, opening a folder and clicking a pen. The captain started the voice recorder.
“Private Reeves,” he began, putting his glasses on, Johnny nodded, “It says here you were received by your unit in August of two-thousand and twelve, and you were reported missing in action in June of thirteen. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Master Sergeant, it was June tenth.”
“Indeed,” he says before continuing, “the report from your squad accounts you as the only loss, aside from a humvee and a flat bed. Did you know that?”
“No Master Sergeant, I was instantly knocked out by a blast.”
“Yes, in the report it says a T-72 tank with eyes shot your convoy. Do you remember that detail?” Johnny pondered.
“Uh, no, Master Sergeant, it happened too fast.” He gulped. “But, there was a tank. Yes.” The officers looked at each other. The silent Master Sergeant nodded.
“Thank you Private, you said you were knocked out instantly?” Johnny nodded. “Alright, so can you recount for us the events that transpired ever since then?”
“Certainly, Master Sergeant…”
Johnny recounted his story, he was very calculating in his retelling of the tale, he left out the physical abuse that Tankovy would hit him in the beginning, he would emphasize how she treated his wounds, sheltered him from the terrorists, procured him food, water, attended to his waste for him and would perform physical therapy to keep his body as fit as she could. Then he went into detail on her escape plan and her motivations for capturing him at all, he emphasized that at no point did she place him in excessive danger or in way of certain death, that he himself took extra risks to sabotage insurgent materials, and that when the plan was executed she escorted him out of the hot zone and ferried him to the base. He mentioned that he was fed at least twice every day, which was all that she could procure, and that en route to base she exercised him to rebuild his physical strength. He left out absolutely every detail or hint at their romance and sexual activity. At various points the investigation team would stop him and ask many questions, be they strategic ones on enemy strength and resource procurement, tactics of evasion and camouflage for the assets, how he was feeling or even if wanted some coffee or a hot plate. At the end of the interrogation the staff welcomed him back and shook his hand, congratulating him on getting home safely, also for destroying a terrorist stronghold.
“Very good, son, very good. Now, let’s get you to the latrine so you can clean up. We could smell your stank ass from three clicks out! You look like one of them motherfuckers, too! We saw you ride up and we were like ‘ah these poor bastards have some big fuckin balls!” He laughed and stood up.
“Is there anything else, Private?” The Major asked as he stood up.
“Yes, sir,” Johnny started, “that tank I came here with, what’s going to happen to her?” The Major scowelled and looked to the captain.
“Captain?” The captain nodded.
“Private, we have reason to believe, and now evidence to support, that this tank was the one that fired on our convoy and abducted you. So we are building a case against the tank to hold a court marshall against it.”
“What?” Johnny asked.
“We’re taking it to trial.”
“But sir, I- I just told you everything we did.”
“And proved that it abducted you. You’ll be held as a witness to prosecute the tank. Don’t worry son, we’ll get it right.” Johnny was in complete disbelief. The staff departed, taking their things with them and leaving Johnny sitting there feeling terrible. His gut churned and he felt like he was going to vomit. One if the gaurds grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.
“Come on, Reeves, let’s go hose you down.”
Johnny was escorted out of the building and around to the latrines, a shack with shower stalls in it. He was helped to get naked and given soaps to wash. He enthusiastically washed himself, months of filth came off of him, the water was black with gunk. While he took his shower some fellow privates cobbled together an extra uniform for him. All his stuff had been sent home months ago. The boots were too big, and he didn’t quite fit the uniform since he was so frail now, but he could grow into it. Then he was sat down outside his old tent and everyone gathered around and recorded him getting all his hair cut off. Huge locks of hair fell in massive clumps to the sand. His magnificent, scraggly beard was cut away until it was short enough for a razor, his long head of hair chopped and dropped down to an even buzz cut, he brushed his teeth for the first time in months and realized he probably should get a medical check up, which is why he washed so enthusiastically, to wash off any signs of the two of them fucking. He was given food, which he consumed like a dog, then taken to the medical tent for a check up.
The medical team x-rayed his legs and performed a full body health checkup. He was underweight but fit, his teeth were terribly dirty but only one cavity had started forming, thanks to the Arabic diet being low sugar, and his legs were actually not completely healed. One leg was going to have to be broken again and realigned correctly. They admitted that while crude, Tankovy did a remarkably good job of nursing him. When Johnny heard that he begged the medical staff to put it on record wherever they can. He asked for a copy of the report for himself, if possible. Once this was over, about six hours after he was separated from Tankovy, he went after her. He found her locked down in the courtyard, and absolute miserable wreck. Her eyes were dim and dead, she was quietly sobbing, and she was radiating the feeling of depression. He started running towards her, ignoring the gaurds with the rocket launchers because he knew they didn’t care, and ran right up to her. He called out to her as he got close and she perked up, she grabbed him and hauled him right up to her side, smacked him good across the face, then held his head close to her. She cried harder.
“Johnny, I’m scared.” He tried to comfort her as much as possible, he told her that the two of them will never be too far apart, that the army isn’t going to kill her, and that the army still has a bed for the two of them. “How? Why? What are they doing? What’s going to happen to us?” Johnny looked her in the eyes and tried to tell her about the court case coming up, he had a huge lump in his throat. Its absolutely not what she needs to hear right now but she has a right to know. “Tell me! Please Johnny!”
“Tankovy…” he croaked “they want to court martial you…” she was horrified.
“What!?”
“They want to put you on trial for stealing me.” She was crying more. A main battle tank was crying in the arms of a foreign soldier. How low she felt she had fallen. “And that’s not the worst of it. They want me to stand against you.” She started bawling. She started smacking him more.
“You said we’d be okay! You said you’d stay with me! You liar! You said they wouldn’t lock me up! You said that they would help me! Fuck you! After everything we did!?”
She continued yelling at him, the soldiers around were very unsure of what to do. None of them had been to couples therapy-yet, and just stood there letting it happen, staring at each other. Tankovy wasn’t beating Johnny down yet, she easily could, but she still loved him, she hit him more so to emphasize her anger. Johnny was trying to calm her down saying how he’s putting her in a good light and that he’s going to do everything he can to save her. Tankovy was so upset she slurred her words and scolded him in Russian. Johnny didn’t even notice the two Abrams tanks behind him pointing their guns at Tankovy’s flank. The two Abrams sat there awkwardly as Tankovy and Johnny argued, they were rotating on and off the watch at that moment. The one oncoming turned to the other and asked “Are they a thing or something?”
“I-I think so,” the off-going Abrams said, “so from what I could tell he hooked up with his captor and now she’s angry that he abandoned her?”
“Bro she went out and kidnapped a husband.” He chuckled, putting on a Russian accent, “In Soviet Russia, mail bride order you!” That got the two of them to laugh. They sat there awkwardly again just watching the drama. It was the most entertaining thing to do on the whole fucking base. Sit there and watch a relationship crash. “I think she loves him.” Oncoming watch said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he’s not dead.”
“Uh-huh.”
“She’s still holding him! If she didn’t love him and she was this upset he probably would have been popped like a bag of chips or hit so hard his head spins off like a top.”
“I can see that.” He smirked and looked to the other tank. “You think they fucked?” The other guy whistled and rocked forward and back.
“I dunno, bro. He could be into that, or she’s into it and trying to make it happen.”
“I bet you they fucked.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup.”
“Whatcha bet?”
“I bet a whole case of monster.”
“I’ll shake on that. I bet a case of monster they haven’t fucked.” The tanks reached to each other and firmly shook hands as Tankovy pinned Johnny to her glacis plate and sobbed. He stroked her hand passionately to comfort her. “Russian tanks are really small, dude.”
“I told you, I told you a dozen times.”
“Okay mister desert storm veteran. Old ass fart.”
“I’ll still kick your ass.”
“Pshh, okay, gramps. Don’t get senile on me yet.”
While she was still sobbing Tankovy released her hold on Johnny and told him he should go to avoid trouble. He agreed, reassuring her that he will do everything in his part to save her. Her eyes were glossed over with tears and as they stared into each other he could see her desperation, and she could see his dedication. They parted after a moment and he walked away. One of the guards stopped him and asked him what happened out of genuine curiosity. Johnny wanted to get to bed so he briefly skimmed over the events, getting captured, being entombed inside her, recovery, they blew up a terrorist base and ran here. The soldier had respect and admiration for Johnny and sent him off to get some well deserved sleep. Being a nineteen year old kid the soldier told all the other guys the story.
Johnny laid down in his cot, the first bed shaped thing he’s had for almost a year. It was strange to him at first, and his mind raced with cunning strategies and tactics to prop Tankovy up in the best light from a legal perspective. After twenty minutes he was out like a light, in the deepest sleep he’s had since being knocked unconscious. Meanwhile the Abrams guarding Tankovy heard Johnny’s story and also shared some admiration for the couple. He looked over her carefully, noting how poorly kept she was, bolts were rusty, her extremities were all beat up and rusty, too, she was filthy, covered in sand and muck, and her paint was faded and chipping. Now that he knew what company she shared he felt bad for her.
“Hey, ruskie, you speak English?”
“Yes.” She replied quietly, afraid of what the male Abrams would demand of her.
“You need anything?” She was quiet, wary of a trap. “You’re pretty fucked up, we’ve got wire brushes, we’ve got lube oils, we’ve got water, we could bathe you.” She smiled a little, fond memories of her old crews pampering her flooded her, when they would take pride in her appearance. They used to comb over her, addressing the most minor of faults, rust, fucked up paint, dirt and mud. If she wasn’t out on the field for exercises her crews usually kept her clean and good looking. Even her Iraqi crews kept her decently well cleaned. It all fell apart when Al Qaeda took her in, offering her a better life. She should have known that was a trap. They simply didn’t have everything needed to keep her up like the last two militaries she was with. Some guys tried, but they could only do so much. This offer was like a ticket to heaven for her.
“I would absolutely love that.”
“Okay, I’ll get my new guy to do that tomorrow.” Suddenly his tone shifted to a darker, intimidating mood, “But if you try any funny shit, I’ll rip you apart piece by piece, you tracking?”
“I understand, comrade.” The Abrams was a little giddy, she called him comrade.
“So, how’d a little tank like you end up in a shit-hole like this?”
“Well,” she told him her story, like she told Johnny, about how she was part of the glorious Soviet Army, but when she was slated to be upgraded with new technology Iraq bought more tanks from Russia, and to save money the army sent her to Iraq instead of upgrading her. She served with Iraq until the Gulf wars, her unit was effectively obliterated and consolidated, but by then the war was over, and in the chaos a rebel band named Al Qaeda offered her a better life and opportunity to get back at the juggernaut countries that ruined her. In the moment she took it, but life wasn’t great. She mentioned her maltreatment and how one of the leaders sought to use her for pleasure, and how that didn’t go his way. The Abrams laughed at that, calling the leader fucking stupid for thinking that. She felt a little better, it eased the mood. She talked about wanted to break out and go back to Russia, and how if she tried to leave alone she’d effectively get no where, she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without a group with her, and didn’t have much fuel to begin with. She needed to stage an attack to grab an American, hide him from the terrorists, and then use him to help blow up the compound to cause a big enough distraction to get away. Then she could be free to find a route back to Russia. The Abrams voiced his critiques of the plan, and mentioned his role in the Gulf wars. They talked about that for a few hours. At the end of the night she felt pretty comfortable with the Abrams, at least. The guards came and went, getting different pieces of the stories, some were pretty interested in them, others couldn’t care less. Just before sunrise Tankovy asked the Abrams a question very quietly, so nobody could hear but him. “Do you think I have a chance at getting into America, to become an American?”
Fin Distressed VII
Hello again! Yeah, I know, two posts in 2 month’s time! No really it’s happening! I hope you enjoyed the last entry, here’s part 6, I’m really enjoying these characters a lot. I know I gotta get back to the other stories, too, but hey, I’m gonna ride this wave as far as I can. I hope you enjoy the ride and the story as much I I am, if not more!
Enjoy.
Distressed VI
Tankovy stopped herself before entering the valley, in the valley was the village she snatched Johnny from his unit almost a year ago. It was still night time, another bright moon hung in the sky turning the landscape a hue of blue, like a cool sea the desert crashed violently against the jagged rocks that formed the cliffs and mountains. The sand piling up looking like plumes of water flung into the sky by their crashing momentum. Tankovy had never seen the ocean, but from the stories she’s read, the likeness men have made like this, that’s how she imagined it. She was also wondering how she would get across that ocean that separated America from Afghanistan, would she fly in a plane? Would she sail on a ship? Would she even leave, or will she be left in the desert again? Abandoned by those she trusted again. The thought pained her, she almost cried again. She shook off that fear and thought of more immediate matters, Johnny had eaten the last can of unspoiled food she had. She planned to get to the base in two days, now it’s probably going to be three days because of their extended walk and other enjoyable pastimes. She stared at the empty can she had in her hand. Damn humans! Why do you have to eat so much? She knew that he was already thin and frail, malnourished despite feeding him all the food the Taliban gave her, he used so much energy just to heal his body he ended up losing most of his mass. He said he could go a day without eating but she was determined to at least feed him something. She figured that everything she can do for him can only make her look better in the eyes of the American army, so she was going to feed him. She was able to collect some money throughout the years here, what money it was or how much it was worth she had absolutely no idea. Her sense of monetary value was unfounded, she had never had to buy anything in her life. She knew it was late, it probably just turned into a new day, she didn’t quite know. She fished the money out of her little collection bin on her turret and looked at it, literally her life’s savings, amounted to a handful of coins and bills. She removed the few bits that were Russian rubles, and was left with even less material. She prayed it was enough. She set it aside in her hull, putting the rubles back in her collection bin, and laid down to rest. Suddenly she was hit with exhaustion and blacked out. When she woke up she found Johnny stretching and exercising beside her.
“What are you doing!? I have no more food for you, you can’t waste energy like this! Johnny!” He was also just in his old underwear he’s had for almost a year. She enjoyed his exposed body but the situation ruined any appealing factor it would have.
“I can’t sit around and no nothing, I’ll rot away. I’ll be fine, Tankovy, I’ll be fine.” He continued jogging in place, wincing in pain at the exertion.
“Johnny you’re going to hurt yourself, you’re not healthy enough to do this! Please stop! Look, right in the valley is the town I found you in,” he stopped jogging and looked at the valley’s opening, “in that town we can get you some food. I have some money to buy something, I hope.” He just stared into the valley absently. Tankovy pulled the money she set aside out and tried to show him. “See? It’s not much, but it’s all I have.” She sounded defeated. Johnny broke his gaze from the valley and looked at the money and her, she handed it to him, he counted it. “Is it enough?” She croaked.
“Yeah,” he said after hesitation, “it should do fine.” Tankovy saw the look on his face he tried to hide, she knew he was lying.
“It’s all I have.” She almost cried. His face curled into a scowl, she was getting upset.
“I’ll be fine Tankovy, I get up camping, I can go hungry for a day or two.”
“No you can’t! I won’t let you!” She was on the verge of crying. An idea flickered into his mind.
“Wait a minute, you still have something,” she was confused and offended at the conclusion she jumped to, “you have that gun, yeah?” She clung to her roof mounted HMG and her gaze paled.
“But I love my Dishka…” she whimpered.
“No. The other gun.” She grabbed her cannon and whimpered more. He rolled his eyes and slackened. “No, the other, other gun.” She was blank. “The AK.”
“Oh! Yes! It’s in the basket!”
“Well I don’t want it, do you?” She scoffed.
“I’ve seen thousands of these, I don’t give a rats ass for it.”
“Sounds like we’re going to make a shop owner believe in the second amendment.”
“The what?”
“Oh shit, yeah I gotta teach you all about that stuff if you’re trying to be an American citizen.” When he said that her spirits lifted, she even sat higher on her suspension, eyes illuminating bright blue.
“Well let’s go get some food then. Oh yeah, you’re gonna have to do all the talking, I can’t be seen by the locals like this.”
“Like what?” Before his eyes he watched hers disappear behind an invisible shutter, he suddenly couldn’t see her mouth either. He was startled. “Am I fucking crazy? Tankovy!”
“I’m still here, чертов идиот, I’m hiding.”
“Well you really fucking suck at it, I see you.”
“No my face, I don’t look alive, yeah?”
“I guess so.” He shrugged. “Whatever. How’s this going down?”
They moved into the valley, he wore some old clothes he had showing his American patch while he stood in the commanders hatch, acting like he was commanding a driver around. Tankovy paraded herself like she was just another tank, engine loudly rumbling, gun up high, machine gun backwards and pointing up to the sky, jerking around like some guy was struggling to work the tillers. Johnny jostled around, the AK was by his leg, just out of sight. The village looked like any other village he’d seen. Tan brick buildings with vibrantly colored rugs, ships, awnings, and decorations. There were a bunch of old cars down trodden and strewn about, children played in the streets and there were plenty of vendors in their stalls. Tankovy slowed and carefully watched the children, Johnny watched them, too, but also the men. He saw no weapons, he was more at ease. He focused on what they were here for and tried identifying shops for food. Eventually they stumbled across one, across the street from where Tankovy ambushed and kidnapped Johnny. He stopped her and climbed out and down to the ground, staggering towards the bearded man in the door.
“You speak English?” He asked the man, the man said something in Arabic and turned into the building, stepping inside. Johnny was very worried, he was visually anxious. Tankovy watched carefully, ready to pull him away at the first sight of trouble. The man returned with his father, he was obviously older.
“How do I help you?” He asked. Johnny was relieved.
“Yes, thank you, do you sell food here?”
“Yes.”
“Great, we don’t have much money, but we can also give you a rifle to trade for food, if you accept?” The old man nodded, turned to his son and spoke Arabic, who replied to his father.
“Show us the rifle.” Johnny nodded and trotted to Tankovy, hoping up to grab the gun. He showed them the gun, the magazine, and the ammo he had. The two men spoke to each other and nodded. “We accept the trade. How many meals? Three?” Johnny was going to say one, but figured it’d be better to take the three instead. He agreed to the three and asked for the food to be in paper wraps so he could take them and be on his way. The son went inside to make the meals, the old man got close to Johnny and spoke softly to him.
“What’s a American doing with a Russian tank?” Johnny was not ready to answer this, hes quick on his feet, however.
“We found it, took it for ourselves. Just trying to get back to base.” The man nodded.
“You have a big beard, son, how long have you had it?”
“Oh this? It’s nothing, I go a month without shaving and it’s crazy.” The man’s icy gaze pierced Johnny’s.
“It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a American with a beard like yours. A very long time.” Johnny grew anxious again, stepping closer to Tankovy. “You must have been around for a while, did you hear the big explosion the other night?” Johnny was very uncomfortable. The old man reached into his pocket, Johnny stared at his hand. Tankovy prepared to rip Johnny away and bolt. Her arm slowly slithered from behind Johnny towards him. The man pulled his hand out of his pocket with a challenge coin and a fist full of crumpled Afghanistan bills. “Keep the money, my friend.” He dropped the coin into his pocket before his son came out with three kebabs. Johnny recognized the coin and relieved all tension, he smiled and thanked the two men, shaking their hands. He took his food and climbed back onto Tankovy, shouting down into the empty hull to drive on. Tankovy spurred and jolted forwards like a lead footed driver, crawling out of the valley with Johnny on top. Johnny immediately ate one of the kebabs as soon as they got through the town, he offered some to Tankovy but she refused, he needed it way more than her.
“You should really try tasting stuff that’s not my cock or cum. I think you’d be a lot happier.” He was wolfing down the kebab in gulps. It was so good, way better than any MRE he’s ever had.
“I’ve eaten food before, I like kebabs a lot. Lamb’s pretty good, goat’s good, too. Chebueki is nice, mmm I love kotlet.” She wrapped an arm around his thin leg, slowly reaching up his thigh. He swatted her hand just before it got into his lap.
“Hey! We gotta get first. You said no more fooling around, remember?” Her guns slouched in defeat.
“да, I remember.” The distrust began brewing in her heart again. Johnny felt her mood shift to a sort of ominous gloom, he didn’t like that.
“Hey, remember when I mentioned the second amendment? Well, I’ll tell you about it, give you a little history lesson on America.”
Johnny taught her a rough history of why America founded and how certain events led to the formation of the new country, he made brief, rudimentary explanations on the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and what it stood for, and the Bill of Rights, emphasizing the right to free speech and the right to bear arms and form militias. He did bring up more amendments, but his emphasis on the first two rights is what blew her away. It was a drastic contrast to Russia, especially Soviet Russia. In the between times of giving directions he taught her all he could, going over political parties, the national anthem, brief summary of how government works, emphasizing she really learn this so she can become an American and live with him. Every time he mentioned making her an American to live with him her heart would burst with emotion, every now and then tears formed. Her deep dark distrust told her he was really selling a lie, but her heart went with him. Johnny had a few friends that came to America as immigrants, he was familiar with the processes and tests they had to go through to become citizens. He thought that it was always funny how immigrants to America know more about America than most of natural born americans. He would tell Tankovy that soon she would also know more about America than most Americans and that filled his chest with fire, driving him even more to teach her.
For most of the ride Johnny sat in his favorite spot in the driver’s seat. Tankovy liked him there most as well, she could peek down on him every now and then, holding him was easy, and he was closest to her tunnel of fun and frolicking. She held him tight and daydreamed of their future, she thought of luscious green grass fields, full and vibrant oak trees, she saw him there, clean shaven and healthy, and just when she thought about kids she didn’t see any, her heart sank. She massaged his shoulders and brought it up to him.
“John, baby, what kids are we going to have?”
“Hmm?” He was confused.
“Kids, what kids do you want? W-we are staying together, right?” Small shrills of panic strung in her voice.
“Yeah we’re sticking together, just, kids? I mean, well, we do get to choose the kids we adopt. I was an only child, always wanted a sibling. So two kids-”
“Adopt?”
“How else are we having kids? Tanky I can’t get you pregnant. I’m not a tank… you know that, right?”
“Oh no, Johnny, I don’t work like that-machines don’t work like that, you can impregnate me, you can get me pregnant as fuck.” Johnny panicked, thrashing in his chair.
“What!?” He exclaimed. “Tankovy I’m not ready for kids! Oh fuck!” She wrapped him up and forced him in the chair.
“No, Johnny, stop! I’m not pregnant! Stop! That’s not how you impregnate me!” He calmed down a little bit.
“So what is it?! Can I knock you up or not?” He was terribly confused.
“My turn to teach you, baby. So yes, I have eggs, and I need sperm to fertilize them, yes, but your sperm will never reach my eggs without my help. You can pump all the sperm you want into me, from two loads to a gallon-”
“A gallon of nut? Goddamn, that’s kinda hot I guess.” She smiled and giggled, it did sound pretty fun, even it it was ridiculous.
“Sure, even a gallon, it won’t reach my eggs. I have a cervix, like humans, but mine is sealed, you have to penetrate my cervix to let the semen in, otherwise, it goes nowhere.”
“So, I was as deep as I could go, I didn’t even touch it… is it some syringe shit? Am I breeding you like a race horse? What-?”
“I can move it, shallow, deep, I can bring my cervix so shallow I could almost kiss your balls with it.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Oh fuck yeah it does. And I cannot wait for that day, you’re going to pump so much but into men I’m gonna get pregnant. I won’t get off of you until it’s done. But until that day, or days, we are safe.”
“Huh,” he said, “you’re a fucking cheater you are. You know that?” She took offense to that.
“Excuse me!?”
“You can fuck all you want and not get pregnant? No protection, no condoms, no pull-out. I can nut in you every day of my life worry free and not have to cut my balls off? That’s cheating.” She relaxed after that, understanding his play. “I love you so fucking much. One helluva woman.” Jackpot! Tankovy thought to herself. “So, why is your cervix sealed?”
“It’s a vacuum inside. So that I can suck the semen from the vagina to the eggs.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I can practically suck your testicles dry through your dick.” He was near-instantaneously rock hard. He was in awe as he stared at her thick vaginal tendril between his feet. She smiled deviously. She slithered her drop-dead gorgeous pussy towards him and opened the slit with a hand. “Look baby, I’ll show you my cervix.” He stared at her vagina, he saw the walls change form and men’s when suddenly a tight hole came into view with very pronounced muscles encircling it, it was super tight looking. Looked like a tight flesh donut inside a looser flesh donut between thick sideways eyelids. He craved it on his lap, as she promised, kissing his balls. “But that comes later, baby,” she retracted her cervix into the depths again, “for now I’ll keep it right here, perfect fit for your big cock, baby.” A hand of hers glided over the large bulge in his pants where his erect cock throbbed. She licked her lips in anticipation.
“So what do you mean, what kids?”
“Depending on how much you continue to seed me through my pregnancy with result in different looking children. If you, say, one and done me, I’ll give you a child tank, he’ll grow up into a T-72 just like I am. If you inseminate me every night, though, I’ll give you a baby boy that’s human, like you. He’ll grow up to be a big strong man like you.”
“Is it one or the other?”
“No there’s a grey area.” He thought of monstrous machine men that looked like Transformers, cool, but not what he had in mind. “So let’s say I want a little… human… boy, if I miss one night because, say, I couldn’t get it up… what then?” She laughed.
“Its not that strict, trust me, I’m stricter than that. You just have to regularly supply me with more baby batter and I’ll whip up a beautiful baby for you, love. And I’ll carry all the children you want, I did have hundreds of brothers and sisters, after all.” She massaged his chest passionately. “I’m all about big families, baby.” She grabbed another kebab and put it in his lap. “Here, baby, eat up. You need it.”
He didn’t contest, he knew that by now they were getting close to the base. The roads started to become paved streets, still void of much around them, just the occasional house here and there. The sun was hanging lower than he expected it to, they must have slept in for a long time. He checked Tankovy’s gas and saw she was fine. He asked her if he could drive for a bit, let her rest, if that’s how it worked. She affirmed that if he drove she could relax and let the machine half of her take over, but she didn’t want to teach him right now, she wanted to get to the base first. There she’ll teach him every about her. He accepted the deal. He realized that maybe a random T-72 driving up to an active American FOB wasn’t a good idea, so he went into the turret basket to scrounge for stuff to make a white banner. He found what looked like an old white tank top and settled on it. He found a bit of string, too, but no stick. Tankovy said that in training exercises the Russians put flags on the antennas, so that’s what he did. He bent the antenna over and tied the shoulders to the wire, the string reinforced it. He eased it up to sit up high and it stayed on, flapping along in the wind. He silently hoped that would be enough to not get them smoked at first sight.
Not too long after Johnny said he started to see very familiar ridgelines and geographic features, and not long after, just as the sun started setting behind the mountains, they saw the base. Hastily they approached to get there before nightfall, just so they aren’t taken as a serious threat. Both of them hoped it to be closer to mid day, because that’s the worst time to attack, and the best time to identify them as surrendering. They were about three quarters of a mile when Johnny told her to stop and approach very slowly, so she did, her guns were high and u loaded, Johnny was exposed, wearing the remnants of his uniform, arms up and holding his military ID and his dog tags. They shouted at the base to get the guards’ attention, sure enough it worked. Four Apache helicopter rose from behind the sandbag walls and circled tankovy, who stopped in her tracks. Then the gates opened and two Abrams tanks rushed out and got onto her 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock corners. Infantry squads stuck close behind the tanks, setting up firing positions and scanning for any other threats. This is the first time a tank has ever had the balls to roll straight up to the front gate of a FOB, much less to surrender. A team of grunt moved towards the tank, trying to stay on the flank, and ordered Johnny to slowly get down off the tank and lay on the ground. As he complied he remembered to tell her something.
“Oh yeah, Tankovy, those two Abrams are alive. Hands up, missy.” As he laid on the dirt, hands behind his back still holding his ID, Tankovy slowly unveiled herself and stretched out a lot of arms, four from under the mud flaps, two from the commander’s hatch, two from the gunner’s hatch, and two from the driver’s hatch. The face on an Abrams lit up in astonishment. The soldiers hesitated. Her ‘throat’ was dry, her voice coarse, she never would have thought she would say this…
“…I surrender…”
Fin Distressed VI
I really hope you enjoyed this insert, I had a fun time writing it. If you’ve got any feedback lemme know. Do you like the random inserts of different languages in their native writing, or should I keep everything in alphabetical forms? Like da instead of да? Or do you not care? Again, I hope you enjoyed! Take care, stay safe.