The New Generation 5 (For real)

Yes, this one is actually what I meant to post as chapter four, but I fucked up and so now it’s chapter 5. No big deal. I know my writing has been very, inconsistent to say the least, I’ll try to change that but I don’t promise anything. So, without further delay, here is the next installment.

Enjoy.

Chapter 5

Once Chad had been released and given a plate of food he calmed down and came around to talking. He took a liking to Kramia and Mini-Rommel quite fast and was comfortable. Eryka the experimental E-100 super-heavy tank was monsterous to him, her giant hull, turret, and gun dwarfed even Marion and captivated his curiosity as to why make something that big. He didn’t know much about Betty, a Pershing tank, either, but knew a lot about Faust, the Panzer IV. His family were very delighted to meet him, his aunts and uncles, biological blood or not, this was his new family and they took him in with open arms. He was still hesitant, and when he learned that Banker was Marion’s driver, Inbred her gunner, Whacker her radio operator, and Hansel her commander, he wondered who her loader was. The gang sorrowfully told him that he died in the eighties, he stayed in Germany with his family. They talked about him for a while, who he was and his personality, and how much they missed him. He spent the day listening to stories, meeting many tanks, taking an interest in Vitaliya and Devastator, the estranged couple from the eastern front. He couldn’t figure them out, just something appealing about them, like Kramia and Mini-Rommel. When there was a lapse in activity he was sitting with Marion and Hansel and he spoke his mind.

“Mom, dad, how are we related to them?”

“Who?”

“My aunts and uncles, how?”

“So, Uncle Anton is actually your cousin, he’s also mine,” Hansel said, “that is real blood for us. As for the others? There’s nothing closer than the bond we share.”

“Why?”

“It’s both simple and it’s not, I’ll ask a question, why do people fight in war? What makes them do such things, Chandler?” Chad thought for a minute.

“Family? Country?” Hansel nodded.

“From what I’ve seen, it’s more often for family than anything else. Your mother here has had no life before the war, she doesn’t love Germany like myself, or any of your Uncles, she didn’t know anything about the political side of the war, the racial side. She had nothing but the knowledge to go forth and kill the enemy. So what do you think made her keep going?”

“You, you guys told her to.”

“Half right,” Marion said, “I fought for my friends, my family. Hansel, Adam, I did it for them.”

“When you ask a soldier why he did it, you will get hundreds of answers, pay, power, prestige, honor, tradition, duty, whatever it is, but when the battle starts and it’s real it’s not about that anymore. Almost none of it. You fight for the man beside you, and he the same for you, in that moment he is your family, he becomes your family. There’s many names for it, blood brothers, battle buddies, firefight family, whatever you call it, it’s all the same. That’s why I call them my family, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Or you.” He poked Chad in his belly. Chad nodded and was quiet, satisfied with his answer and deep in thought and analysis, looking at the couple’s from opposite sides as he thought about it more. Looking around, Chad thought of another question.

“Are there any kids my age?” Hansel shook his head no.

“Sadly not, son. Our families started many years ago, decades ago, even, all our kids are either grown up or in their teens. Jasmine, for example, is the youngest of the bunch, except you, of course.”

“So, are there grandkids?”

“Sadly not,” Marion said, “when we fought through the war we all felt rushed to have kids, have a family, before we ended up dead like all the others around us. We never knew how long we’d be around, and since our kids grew up without that looming doom, and they could see how healthy we were and long our lives are, they don’t feel a rush.” Chad looked sad, he slouched over and looked at his shoes resting on Marion’s glacis plate. “Don’t feel bad, Chandler, there’s going to be a bunch of kids to make friends with at school next year!”

Veronica chewed on the pen cap some more, deep in analytical thought. Beads of sweat from her forehead rolled down into her ees and into the lens of her microscope. Frustrated by the heat, sweat obscuring her her vision, and the seemingly nonsensical way that Adler’s body makeup interacted with blood pushed her to take a break. She shoved the cart with all her equipment awar from her stool and fanned herself while looking around the garage. There was already a fan at every window, all trying their best to to cool off the garage. She shook her head and combed her long curvy brown hair. Adler noticed her annoyance and looked up from his microscope to confront her. “What’s wrong, Vinnie?” He combed over her body with his hawk eyes, noticing her deeply sweat-soaked sports bra and track shorts. Her skin glistened with a coating and drips plucked off her body to the smooth cement floor. Veronica threw her head back and wailed back to him.

“It’s so hot!” Her hair fell from her mid back and drooped over Adler’s right treads, just behind his forward idler wheel. He carefully picked up her flowing mane so it wouldn’t get caught in his robust metal treads-again.

“Yeah, I’m a bit uncomfortable, too.” He wiped condensation off his hull and flicked it off his mechanical hand.

“Addie, baby, are you cool?” She asked with such desperation in her gleaming eyes. Adler frowned as he felt himself.

“No babe, I’m pretty warm.” She groaned.

“I really need to get AC in here soooooo badly!” She slouched over and wiped her forehead again. “What’s worse is that it’s not even summer yet! It gets so much worse in the summer, here!” She moped for a bit and looked back into her microscope. “And they’re already dead!”

“Which ones?” Adler asked her. “My blood or your blood?”

“Yours.” She answered. She picked up the petrie dish and closed it, labeling it ‘A. DEAD’ and stacked it with the others. “I need another sample, babe.” Adler raised an eyebrow at her.

“How much more are you expecting to test, Vinnie?”

“Until I see you consume my blood again!” She was reaching for the vial of her blood when Adler stopped here.

“Babe, I’ve seen sixty tests where my blood dies out, and this is your fifty-seventh. I think that one time is just a fluke. Either you were sick, or using already dead blood.” She shook her head.

“No, no, no, nothing ‘just happens’ like that for no reason. And they were alive, I saw them wiggling around.” She turned her back towards him and leaned back onto his sloping hull. “Please babe, just a little more?” She looked back to him seductively like a pin -up girl, even lifting a leg up over the other’s knee. Adler combed over her and grunted.

“Alright, one more. This will be the last withdraw for a while, I’m getting sore.” Adler picked up a very beefy syringe and needle from the cart-desk and brought it up to his arm. He slid the tip between the kinks in his arm plating and winced and seethed as is penetrated his firmer outer shell and sank into the more fragile metal muscle strands that articulated his body like a snake. He withdrew  a full syringe this time and removed the device, gripping his arm while his body recovers. He handed Veronica the device and she kissed the back of his hand as she took it from him.

“Thanks babe, I love you!” She threw herself upright.

“I love you, too.” He rubbed his arm and looked into his microscope, his blood died out to her blood.

“Babe, you said you could turn me into a machine, right?”

“Somewhat.” He responded, getting uncomfortable. “Not a machine, more like a half-blood.”

‘Right, right, but how?” Adler grew weazy.

“Uh, I-uh, need to inject you with my blood, deep into your tissues. I need a lot of it, too.”

“Hmmm…” She took a dropper and collected some of her blood, dropped two drops into a new dish, then placed it under the scope. “Babe, hold this, inject it into the dish when I say so.” She handed the syringe of his blood to Adler.

“How much?” He asked as he took it.

“As much as you can.” She peered into the scope, noting the activity of the blood wriggling around in the tray. “Do it.” Adler set up the syringe and flooded the tray until there was a little red spot in an ocean of dull grey goo. Veronica watched as the blood slowly beat back at it’s surroundings, then, it slowed to a stop and began shrinking. Veronica grinned and smiled as she watched the consumption accelerate until nothing was left. She did a little shimmy in her seat due to her uncontrollable excitement. The machine essence had beaten off the white blood cells and began consuming, converting, and emulating the red blood cells.

“Vinnie, babe, what do you see?!” Subtle excitement made Adler’s voice flutter.

“I need to separate white blood cells and red blood cells!”

Fin Chapter 5

My goal with these stories is to define my lore a lot more, more bluntly, too. I know that it’s not as fun as hiding things in the main stories and spreading it all over the place, but to do some of the lore points like that would take way, way longer and more effort than what it’s worth. Lore wise, it’s going to be a bit more straightforward, story wise, character wise, hopefully I can make it a lot deeper. Thanks guys, I appreciate y’all reading and enjoying this stuff. All criticism welcome! And questions, questions are good, too.