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[Issue 16] [Story] Fjelstad1678: Birth of a Tank

By hogree,
in Newspaper Archive

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hogree 4,179

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No, I'm not writing about how Fjelstad1678 was born. This was written by @Fjelstad1678, among our new reporter candidates! This was his writing sample written in his application to become a reporter!
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“Birth of a Tank”
 
There I was. I don’t recall how I got there, and I couldn’t tell you to save my life. I can tell you this however. Wherever I did come from, it was incredibly hot. That was all I felt as I was slowly moved forward to my unknown destination. Heat. Searing heat. I tried to open my eyes, but something didn’t let me. I tried to scream, but all that came was a massive grinding noise. With a sudden jolt, I found myself being lifted.
 
This was the point when I had begun to panic. I was still burning hot and blind, and now I felt as if I was in mid-air! I was working my mind to pieces trying to come to some logical solution when I felt the tension suddenly release. With a loud swishing noise and a constant boiling-like noise, I felt myself get placed into some sort of incredibly unstable substance. I was brought to some relief, however, to find the heat begin to fade away. 
 
After a few more gratifying seconds in the substance, I was jerked up again. I suddenly realized how outstandingly loud the area around me was. There were lots of banging sounds and loud clanks and some noises that seemed like metal scraping metal, a lot like the grinding noise that occurred when I tried to yell. After a few more airborne seconds, I was quite obnoxiously slammed into another moving platform.
 
A whirring clatter came from above and began placing circular mechanisms on my sides. While they were being violently attached, I began to realize exactly how outstandingly large I was. The platform I was on suddenly lunged forward. Something I past placed a long piece of flexible metal along my side. Shortly after, the platform screeched to a halt and almost flung me and my newly gained, what I assumed were wheels, off its edge. A large clank came from both sides of me and the long noodle-like straps were bound around the wheels, almost like the tracks of a large tractor.
 
Wait, tracks? That got my mind thinking. What on this great Earth could be going on? With a loud bang, something hit me on the front with incredibly force. Once I recovered from the blow, I found that I could see! It was only a small slot of vision, like I was peering through some type of viewport. From what I could see, it was a huge, dimly lit hallway. There were all sorts of machines and devices lining the walls, ceiling, and floor.
 
It appeared that most of the lighting in the room was being emitted from behind me. Sparks were also flying around everywhere, almost as if the floor was on fire, or, well, at least something was. The platform that I was on was actually some sort of conveyor belt, and it was moving me surprisingly quickly for how heavy I assumed I must be.
 
At this point, I actually started to calm down for the first time since I could ever remember. Something inside me started to believe that everything was going to turn out and I would be out of this mess as quickly as I had gotten into it. Something still seemed missing however, and I felt I was rather… well, empty. 
 
I was suddenly shocked to see a shadow of a large object slowly getting lowered down from somewhere above me. The shadow appeared to be a large, almost like a square tennis racket shaped box. With a large clang, I felt a decent amount of weight get placed on top of me. A sudden burst of extreme pain erupt when what felt like a million bees began stinging me around the area of contact. I closed my eyes and prayed for the agony to end, and as quick as it started, it ceased. 
 
When I opened my eyes, I found that I suddenly had a substantially greater field of view and I seemed to feel higher up. It was like it had become part of me. Like an addition to a clean running machine. Only then did it finally occur to me. I was a machine. I had no idea what my purpose in life would be from that point on, but I knew I was a mechanical beast. But, if I was a machine, why did I seem to be so heavy?
 
The platform began to approach what appeared to be a large engine block suspended from some sort of crane. Once it was out of view above me, the crane started to make a whirring noise. Once the engine was placed, it felt like they had slung on a rather heavy backpack. The conveyor line churned back to life, and I began to think once again. Why would a machine need such a large engine?
 
I then remembered the tracks that they had placed a ways back in the line. Was I supposed to travel? I knew that some machines moved short distances to move things, but to move long distances? Vehicles such as cars or trucks moved long distances, but I was no standard car. What could I possibly be used for? 
 
As I moved along the belt, more and more devices were placed inside my back. Some things caught my view such as a cooling system, a giant battery, a green paint job, and a unusual looking computer system. A further ways forward, I began to see a dim light at the end of the long hallway. Could this finally be it? Am I almost done with this nightmare? 
 
As I continued to move along, the glow grew continuously stronger and I got more and more curious about what anyone would ever need something like me for. About 20 meters from the exit tunnel, I saw it. It was right then that it occurred to me. What I was. What I was meant for. What I would soon become. It was an ammunition rack.
 
I was suddenly drained of all emotions but fear for the 30 seconds that followed. An ammo rack. I was a battle tank. A giant machine of mass destruction. It was all incredibly obvious when I think back on it. I guess I had always assumed I was being created with good intentions. As I reached the mouth of the tunnel, I was left with a feeling of impending doom. Knowing what tanks do, what can happen to one, and that you are one, does seem to leave a bitter taste in your mouth. 
 
The tunnel ended up not being as long as I had begun to hope. After about 3 minutes of being dragged along by the conveyor belt, I was partially blinded as I slid off the belt into a brightly lit room. Once I regained my vision, I realized the rest of the room was filled with other tanks much like myself. One that was slightly larger and had a more intricate paint scheme rumbled forward.
 
It spoke to me in a very deep, mechanical voice: “Greetings, new soldier. Welcome to the Tank-I military program. Your serial does read 1678, correct?” I do not know how, but somehow, I just knew that he was correct. “Yes, sir.” I was surprised to hear my own voice. Something that was put in since I first tried to yell must have added it. “Very good then.” He said. “You seem confused and I must explain. You are in the largest tank producing factory in the known galaxies currently. You have been specifically built for the Tank-I military, one of the greatest in this world.” 
 
I was not incredibly surprised to hear that. The technology that was placed inside my tank looked absolutely amazing. “War has broken out on this planet once again” he continued. “The nation of Tank-I has ordered another 5,000 of your model, the Thundering Mammoth. It is one of the most reliable designs ever made.” I, again, was not surprised to hear that. “So sir, is there a high chance of my destruction?” I asked. “Not at all, 1678. You see, war is almost unending at this point in time. Once a combat vehicle is destroyed, it has a special computer system that you may have seen installed. Do not worry, it cannot be destroyed. That computer will disassemble your atoms, transfer them to a location a decent distance away from the main battle, and re-assemble them in the correct places. You may feel some pain when you get hit up a bit, but nothing too severe.”
 
“Thank you sir, that is a relief.” I really meant it. Now that I knew I could not die, being a tank sounded kind of cool. “Now, lets get you started” the large tank said. A small arm appeared from the wall beside me and tweaked something deep in my internal compartments. Suddenly, the engine roared to life. I began to grin (well, as much as a tank can) as the turntable beneath me turned me to face a door to my right. I remembered I had a turret and turned it to face the leader. “Thank you so much.” “Thank me by fighting a good fight. Now move out!” As I rolled forward, the rest of the tanks in the room aimed up and fired a salute.

 I will never forget that day.

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Written by Fjelstad1678, a new reporter candidate!

Edited by Raphael2
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