Hey everyone, TheGreatHetzer here with another chapter for you guys! Sorry about not updating last week, I've had quite a few things to do and I was pressed for time. However, I managed to update today! Yay! Hope you guys enjoy the chapter, as always, please read and review!


The conversation had made me feel somewhat better, but the general picture of my situation was unchanged. I could die at any moment, be discovered at any moment, or a thousand other bad things could happen. Most would call me paranoid, but how could I not be in a time like this? Here I am with a hole in my frontal plate, slowly but steadily losing blood (or oil, whatever it is). As we got up and started on our way to the garages, I started to find it harder to keep going. My vision blurred every now and then, and I would periodically loose a ton of strength and fall behind. Doc and the others became increasingly worried for my health, at one point we even stopped altogether. Doc stopped and rolled over to me, while Trev and Kenny kept watch.

"Hey buddy, you holding up?" The Panzerjager 1 asked. I met his expression of worry with a false smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine, let's just keep on going." I replied, panting a bit. Doc frowned, that reply didn't satisfy him at all.

"That's the biggest lie I've ever heard. It doesn't take a medical examiner to see that you're not going to be able to keep going for long." He shot back.

"No, really, I just want to get to that garage so you can fix me back up." Doc looked around, thinking for a second. He then turned and pointed his gun at a rock, a few yards away.

"See that rock? Race me to it." He said. What did racing have to do with anything?

"Then can we go?" I asked, somewhat impatient.

"Yes, but race me first." Fine, whatever. I rolled up next to Doc, and waited for his word. At his cue, I set off. We were neck and neck, or… turret ring and turret ring I guess. He barely passed me, and tapped the rock with his tracks right before I did.

"Now can we go?" I asked, stopping to pant a bit. Doc simply looked at me with a frown.

"I was only going 1/4 speed." He said. I let out a sigh. Well, you can't win em all.

"And this proves what, that Leichtraktors are slow? Everyone knows that."

"No, it proved that you are not fit to keep going. That shell must have hit something important, like a lung or something. That would explain the panting." Doc replied.

"And this means…?"

"It means two things. One: you're going to need someone to tow you. Two: I'm going to have to work on you more than I had expected." At the mention of the first thing, Jerry came over in a rush.

"I've got a tow cable in my sack; I can pull him!" The T-15 said with enthusiasm. Doc smiled and patted the tier 3 premium gently on the turret. The little light tank opened his sack, on the right side of his hull. Pulling out a long cable, he employed the help of Doc to attach one side to his rear plate, pulling it to test its strength. He then picked up the other end with his barrel, and came over to me.

"Stay still." He said as he went in and attached the cable to my rear plate. It wasn't exactly comfortable. Jerry then turned around, so that we were back to back. He looked at Doc and nodded to imply that he was ready, and we moved out. Being towed isn't exactly fun. While I didn't have to use my engine and exert needed energy, it felt like I was being dragged. Well, I pretty much was. I would have to endure another hour of this before we finally reached the garages. Turning my turret around to get a good look at one, it wasn't exactly magnificent from the outside.

It was basically a hanger from the outside, all rusted and metal. The only windows were up above, too high to see in or out. Not even an FV4001 could see in there. We all rolled up to the first one, each of the others aiming at the door. Trev tapped it, and when no response came, he opened the door. Inside was a flat area, with shelves on one side and various mechanical equipment on the other. Up in the corner of the room was a small television, I guess for entertainment. Doc rolled in, took a good look, and shook his gun.

"No equipment in this one to work on Mob." He said, and we all moved to the next one. When it opened, there was nothing different other than a few posters of German premium vehicles on the wall, which Jerry flocked to. He practically forgot he was towing me, as he lurched forward to the Panzer V/IV poster.

"Look at that thing… that'll be me some day." He said, talking basically to himself.

"Good luck with the gold situation, where are ya going to find all that?" Kenny asked with a chuckle. Jerry turned and sighed, looking at Kenny with a smirk.

"I'll find a way. This is my garage, by the way." He replied. He then unhooked the tow cable, and nudged me gently out of the garage.

"Hey, watch it-" I was met with a door slamming in my face. Obviously, he wanted to be alone with his future self. Trev chuckled, and then moved to the next garage. Upon opening it, Doc rushed in with eyes wide as saucers, like the ones World of Jokeplanes did for April Fools that one day. Inside were medical instruments, and a small operating table in place of the shelves.

"I can definitely work with this." Doc said with a smile. Trev chuckled.

"You know you're a nerd when medical instruments make you excited." He said, causing me to chuckle.

"I don't think being a nerd is that bad, especially when you can make other tanks better." Kenny said. Doc practically ignored them both, and rolled over to me.

"Now that I have what I need, I can look after you. Come on!" He said, grabbing me and dragging me into the garage. I looked worried at Trev and Kenny, who chuckled.

"See you in the next life buddy." Said Trev. This did not sound like it would be fun.


"So the gun shield was missing, and the doctor was never heard from again!" Doc yelled with a laugh. I chuckled nervously, his jokes weren't very settling. Doc was trying to be gentle as he moved his instrument inside my shell hole, trying to pick out tiny fragments of shrapnel. Every time he did, I winced from the pain. It was as if he was slowly plucking out bits of flesh and organs. Finally he pulled the last bit out, and placed it on the table. He then wiped off my holed area with a cloth, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Try breathing now." He said. I inhaled deeply, feeling a sharp pain inside me. I wheezed and coughed, sending bits of oil out my mouth. Doc picked one up with some tweezers

"Well, that doesn't… look good…" I said with a weak chuckle.

"That means my fears are well placed. You have shrapnel in your lungs." He said, reaching back and picking up something unseen to me.

"You can fix it, right?" I asked.

"Oh yes, of course, but that will require some… drastic… action." The word 'drastic' didn't make me feel very good. I raised an eyebrow, mentally asking what he was going to do.

"I'll have to cut into your hull and get it out, and that will require quite a bit of anesthetic." He said.

"You know how to do this, right?" I asked nervously.

"Well, knowing how is a bit of a stretch…" He replied, turning and picking up a large metal bar.

"What's that for?"

"Well… I'm going to have to conserve my anesthetic." He replied. He then turned around, rose the metal bar, and brought it down hard on my turret. Then everything went black.


Spot the Team Fortress 2 reference for a shout out in the next chapter! Answer in reviews.