Living on Borrowed Time

Chapter Three: The Trip

By PolarNegetiveZero

After trading names, we fell into a silence. It wasn't tense, more of a thoughtful one, in the way that we were both too busy with our own thoughts to talk to each-other. I was thinking about my new companion, and tactics that we could use if ambushed. At first, I was going to let her back off while I go sideways, covering her from view whilst I take the hits with my armor and larger lifespan (HP). However, I noticed the flaw in that plan rather quickly, and decided to change it so that she was alongside me, and I had my front facing them, with my right track covering her driver's hatch, giving away less weak spots on her and forcing them to shoot me, my armored front, or her angled gun mantlet.

Satisfied with my plan for the moment, I started trying to remember why I got in such bad condition, but it was like a brick wall in my mind. Felt like drinking 110 octane fuel for a day straight and then drinking myself into oblivion before waking up and doing it again, then rocketing myself into that forest. Speaking of that, what the hell had made my track so badly damaged it was destroyed? It looked like it'd taken a direct hit from a J-Panzer E-100 and then set on fire with crude oil. Speaking of my track, I thought back to my grease levels, and felt slightly alarmed by its levels. It was low enough to endure the shame of asking. "Excuse me…Sig, do you have any extra grease?" It took me a moment to remember her nickname, but I got it.

"No, I've been using most of it on my gun and my optics. Why'd you ask?" She responded, along with a questioning look to complete the feel. "I'm running low myself. Greasing my damaged track back to a usable state took a lot out of me, so I'll have to sleep to get more rather soon. Here's to hoping we hit a clan or a town soon, eh?" I tried to make light of the situation, telling myself that if we found a clan, I'd do whatever it took to get us in and some fuel and a rest and shelter and…

And I needed to stop making a list of hopes and expectations before they're crushed. A good lesson I learned whilst I was a Medium Three was that if you lower you expectations to the point of crudity, they will be broken and you will be pleasantly surprised. The most I SHOULD hope for is some cover between me and the rest of the world. That is, not including my new companion, of course. My curiosity started rising, so I threw it a bone and spoke again.

"So, Sig. What's your story?" I asked, rather curious about how she managed to get the new chassis and about her in general. She responded with a long winded explanation. "I was German from creation, and I saw no reason to change. I was originally going up the WT E-100 line, but I found this chassis lying around at a fuel depot. The guy selling it sold it to me dirt cheap, but the actual chassis itself was in bad repair. I found some scrap, and had another tank attach the scrap to me, armoring me up a bit. I also thought that it looked a little intimidating, all of the patches looking like patched-up shell holes." She seemed to be blushing a bit by the end there, and I gave her a nod to show that I wasn't trying to make fun of her, only to be polite. "Jay, what's YOUR story?"

I thought a bit, debating whether or not to lie, and I shrugged, deciding not to. "Well, I was a Medium One, and I'd wanted to become the FV 215 (b), so I started working my way up the line. I was actually part of a team, but by the time I'd become a medium three, they all thought I looked too weird to be a normal tank, so I was kicked out. I don't blame them, but it still left a scar. After I became a Matilda, I was a proper scavenger, looking after myself and getting my own fuel. I know a bit about what to do in these kinds of situations, so I'm not really panicking. Life as a Churchill has been good to me, so I don't really want to give it up to a tier 6." I explain my story, in less depth and detail than I had whilst reviewing it to myself, to her. I couldn't properly gauge her reaction, but from her response, she sounded a little less flustered, more curious. "Why not find a different line after getting kicked out?" She asked, slightly saddened that that had ever happened.

I'd already gotten over it, so I wasn't sad, wiser because of it. "I'd reasoned with myself at the time about doing just that, but I felt that I'd worked so hard at it that I'd just stick with it and hope Murphy didn't tear me a new one because of this." She seemed to understand who Murphy was, because she nodded sympathetically. I was, however, digging for inconsistencies and found one in her explanation. "Speaking of which, you never mentioned a team. It makes me ask if you were a part of one." She nodded, and started doing that sort of "Curling inward to not be questioned about this in particular" expression, but answered anyway. "It's because I accidentally team damaged one of my teammates while in combat. It wasn't his fault, I just took a shot without checking my surroundings, and he walked into it. It didn't kill him, but it destroyed his engine and crippled his tracks as well. He had to be put down anyways." This stopped me short, making me process this with all of my mind power. I didn't feel too in-danger because of her story, nor did I ever except when I didn't know what she wanted.

I then saw a glimpse of something ahead of us. Faint, but not faint enough for my optics. I zoomed in as much as possible, and saw it again. I started to hear a low roar coming from the sky, and I stopped to get a clearer view of it. It seemed to be a flying object… Maybe it was a plane? "Hey, Sig, come back here. Zoom with your optics as much as possible where I'm pointing. She reversed back to me, and followed my instructions; giving a low "Hmm." as she saw what I did. We waited for about thirty seconds before I sighed, and zoomed out of my optics, nudging her to do the same. "We should get moving. That could be a bomber, or a GAF. A GAF is a Ground Attack Fighter, made for decimating fortified positions and armored targets; in this instance, tanks. I started rolling away from the road, trying to find a forest.

"Jay! Over here!" I rotated my optics and turret to look at the StuG. A large collection of bushes and rocks clumped together formed a sort of hide that we could sit inside of. "Good find, Sig. Let me go in first, because you won't have a turret to peek over me." I rumbled over, rotating the body of my tank until my back was facing the bushes. I then reversed until my tank was completely hidden from view. That is, except, I could feel it sloping downwards. "Sig! Hold still, this thing might go underground!" I rolled forward, and rotated my front so that it faced the bushes and rocks, rolling forward. I was soon seen as correct, as a large tunnel opened up near the bottom, obviously artificial. "Yeah, come down here, Sig! There's a tunnel we can use!" I rolled into the tunnel, lit with electric lights, waiting until I heard Sig roll up behind me.

Well, what have we here?

I think I'm starting to get a little attention from the WoT community. Not much, mind you, but enough to make me happy. Just so everyone knows, I might update the story randomly, and if I skip a day, I'll upload two on the same day to make up for it. This will be a LONG story, no trip-skipping.

This chapter was an example of "NO TRIP SKIPPING". This was originally supposed to be them going into a town at the end, but I came up with a tunnel a few sentences after I used the bushes.

Review the story and put any ideas or comments you have about the story in there, criticism especially. Constructive, please, not blind hate.

I'm off to pass the frig out.