Story [Issue 55] Between Tabs - Part VII

[Shedinja 1,488]

Part VII

* * *

Read Part I Here

Read Part II Here

Read Part III Here

Read Part IV Here

Read Part V Here

Read Part VI Here

All I could do was stare at the leering, gray icon, stark astonishment swathed across my face like a blanket whisked haphazardly across the surface of a mattress.

 

No. This can't be happening. Not now.

 

My mind was a cyclone, a dull but thunderous roar of panic building stronger with each passing moment. From a dimly lit corner of my brain, small clusters of nerves were constantly firing off in order to incessantly tap my finger over and over again in vain on the blank, white refresh icon, in some sort of desperate hope that the screen would darken to the familiar tones of iron grey thoroughly scratched with rust.

 

Come on not today Internet don't crash on me now I'm begging you please comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon...

 

I was on the verge of shouting now, my face already forming small beads of itching, nibbling sweat. The chair I had been borderline lying in minutes ago was now nearly obsolete; I was teetering on the edge of the maroon cushions, galvanized into a seated crouch towards my computer, barely utilizing their meager support as I mashed away at the coiled arrow.

 

But no matter how many times I refreshed my page, nothing new would appear. The digital dragon continued to stare me down, taunting my problems with its infuriating naiveté.

 

I collapsed into the mess of fabric and cotton behind me in utter defeat. No. Please, no... At this point, the screen wasn't even displaying the crash error page anymore, but simply an empty, unblemished sheet of white, the blue arc steadily chasing its tail once more within the grey containment box above the screen. Not now...

 

I can't quite recall where my mind wandered off to during its appalled, frantic state. Unsure of how much time had passed, slowly, I began to form coherent, constructive thoughts. It's not gonna load at this rate. I finally yanked myself from my stupor and scanned the bottom of the screen. 6:12. They've probably cancelled the war by now. I need to get back online somehow and explain what happened...

 

Shunting my abnormally warm laptop aside, I purposefully strode across the freshly-swept linoleum of the kitchen and made my way into the dining room. It didn't take me long to locate my target: an elongated, black box studded with intermittently flashing LEDs. I scanned the machine all over, putting my two years of robotics experience to work by frantically pushing every button until something happened. I noticed that the router was strangely warm under my hands, as well. Did all the machinery overheat or something? I checked the window behind the cabinet holding the router. It hasn't been raining recently, I deduced by studying the broken sill. Why is the system acting so oddly now?!

 

Screw it. I ran to the door, strapped on my boots once again, and pulled it open. ​I'm not gonna be fazed by lousy Internet connection. Not today. I didn't wait for the gate to close behind me as I yanked my bike from the garage, switched to a suitable uphill gear, and pedaled down the road to the library.

 

I completely disregarded the timid librarian's request to refrain from running as I sprinted headlong into the empty chair before PC 9. After inputting my library card access code at near lightning speed, I whipped my arm above the table to reveal my watch, a new scratch born in the glass from a small crash earned on the way to the library by looking every way but forward at a three-way intersection. 6:38. Medic's gonna be absolutely furious at me by this point.

 

In a timely manner, the inviting green login page gave way with a lovely dissolve effect to a typical mirth-and-merry Windows background, its edges paved with all the essentials: Recycling bin, antivirus software, an array of Microsoft Office supplies... I didn't have to look far to find the familiar Mozilla Firefox logo. Without hesitation, I double clicked the blue and gold symbol, each tap of the finger and snap of the pressure sensor producing a noise loud enough to be audible across the building. A head or two was turned in my direction, likely inquisitive as to why some kid came charging at the computer station like a lunatic and was proceeding to beat on the poor machine.

 

I must look one heck of a sight right now, I realized. Breathing hard, head throbbing visibly, sweating like a fiend... I'm pretty sure I've picked up a nice tear on the back of my shirt, too.

 

But that damage is nothing compared to the blow of pride I've probably just dealt to my clan.

 

Yahoo couldn't have moved any slower in its quest to conquer the screen when it came to simple default homepage jumping. As soon as the hapless little Y! appeared in the upper corner of my screen, I crammed in Tanki's URL in no time flat. This did little to aid the battered PC's processing systems, however, as it was still attempting to fully initialize the original browser, and adding a second command did not help the loading speed by any means. I didn't care, though. I don't have the time to waste either way.

 

At long last, the monitor transformed the image on-screen into the dull wasteland I knew and loved, the Welcome to Tanki Online, recruit! text box flashing into view as a long-awaited road sign, promising a bright future and a dizzying military career. Frankly, I could care less, I thought as I hammered the Skip Tutorial icon.

 

As the 'lucky' coding in the URL assigned me a more or less random server, I began to try and gather myself a bit. It's not the end of the world, John. Just explain to the clan exactly what happened, talk to T3 to reschedule the match, and things should be alright. Trying to retain some sort of mental order by grasping onto that thought, I unconsciously leaned forward on my chair and rocked slightly on the two remaining legs that made contact with the ground and waited as the green loading bar crawled across the screen.

 

But about halfway through the process, the brighter portion of the bar stopped advancing dead in the middle of the screen.

 

I held my breath, chancing a peek at the upper right corner of the screen by the URL input. Adobe Flash was still responsive. So I leaned closer to the screen and waited.

 

Move, I willed the wall of pixels with my mind. But they held fast, the electronic pulses of white failing to breach the darker segment of the bar. Anger, fueled by impatience, began flowing through my veins. Move, I once again commanded the screen.

 

Several seconds passed. My finger was twitching sporadically. I'm think I'm gonna lose it in a few seconds here...

 

Regardless of my growing irritation, the bar continued to hold its position. It wasn't moving. Not even a millimeter.

 

I looked at the scarred wristwatch I wore. 6:42.

 

Suddenly, all at once, the containment seal on the bar was broken; a tidal wave of green impacted the end of the bar and the login screen took its place, standing sentinel, awaiting orders. I rivaled my previous library login with the speed at which I entered the required fields.

 

First stop is the friends list, I thought as the in-game loading screen flashed to life on the monitor. I'm sure many aren't online anymore by this point. Confirming my thoughts was a friends list gone nearly entirely dark, spare the ever-persistent DM trawlers. Next, I need to check the forums and figure out what transpired here while I wasn't here. Shuffling to a new tab brought me to the forums I needed in record time, despite Mozilla's previous server connection fallouts. 1,000,000 posts, Gold Boxes, PoTD... nothing I need right now.

 

Then I spotted the Polyatomic [Pc] topic. It had apparently acquired a brand new page since my last visit.

 

Well, crud. The urchin boiling in my stomach practised tap-dancing as I opened the second-to-last page.

 

The first few new replies were to be expected: a chorus of "Where's Shed" and "we need to have a practice" filled up a good chunk of the forum. Judging by the number of posts, I reckoned as I scrolled past the pale green indicator, there should only be a few on the next page. Attempting to steel myself for the worst, I opened the newest forum page.

 

The page opens up and I'm nailed in the chest anyways.

 

[denex12: well since shed isn't online and we don't have enough people I think were going to have to forfeit the match]

 

I was too late. The surrender was put into motion, and I had no method of stopping it. The further down I scanned the clan page, the increasingly desperate my disposition became. No, no, no, please let there be someone online now that I can communicate with... Backtracking to the primary forum page, I scanned the recent registry portion for any familiar names. No such luck. With a defeated sigh, I returned to the most recent page on [Pc] and began sending a message.

 

[shedinja: Howdy, folks. I'm sorry to have showed up so very late; my laptop chose the perfect time to overheat for whatever reason. I understand that my absence in the clan war was crippling enough to cause a forfeit (due to only have 3 out of 4 functioning players), and for that, I extend my apologies. As a clan leader, I should have been more prepared for a situation such as this; since this is not the case, I have ultimately failed you. I'm going to try and get into contact with T3 immediately to try and reschedule the war. I wish for this not to be a stain on our record.]

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

The concrete slab of neglected jersey barrier beside my treads was useless in my attempts to re-right myself from my awkward landing position, leaving me utterly helpless as I witnessed Reams-Greenwood's traditional Hornet/Firebird/Marine whip around a nearby corner, the tip of his turret twitching in my direction upon sight. I could only sigh in defeat and lean further back into my industrial wooden chair as he engulfed my tank in a searing cloud of napalm.

 

[sigma_Ctu-s1_V3: Dangit Josh, I swear this is the last time I ever play a future dm with you again -_-]

 

[Reams-Greenwood: Lol its not my fault you drive like a noob]

 

I looked up from the ancient Dell monitor to shoot Josh a look, of whom was at PC 10 adjacent from me. "You really want to play that game?" Josh could only burst out laughing. We both knew that between the both of us, I was admittedly the better driver. It could also be said that I turn my turret far more frequently, I thought to myself. Probably the reason why I have less difficulty sparring with him than he does with me.

 

My respawn point was a good distance away from the drab grey sheets of concrete lining the central highway; I reappeared closer to the small, curved tunnel near the northeastern end of the map, adjacent to one of the two dominant buildings that stood proudly among the metropolitan dystopia. A not-so-good vantage point to try and target my assailant, I thought sullenly as I slowly pitched my green camo-print machine around a corner to locate Reams-Greenwood.

 

But lo and behold, my assailant rounded a corner of the three-way intersection before me, driving away from me, letting little red puffs of flame from his turret without a care in the world. He didn't spot me. A smirk alighted my face as I launched my M0 Wasp into gear and charged in his direction, minimizing turret movement to advance as stealthily as possible. However, once my tank finally neared closing distance, Reams-Greenwood decided to take a lofty turn around a large heap of rock, breaking my line of sight. Showtime, I thought giddily as made a sharp right turn before the rock structure, proceeding to round it from the other side.

 

His reaction was priceless when I barreled out from behind the rock and directly past his machine, my Freeze soaking his machine with liquid nitrogen all the way and effectively pinning him before he had time to even stop his Hornet's forward momentum, much less turn his turret and attempt to parboil me. It was over in seconds, leaving only a cracked, blue-tinted shell that vanished within seconds. Letting out a slight chuckle as I heard Josh panicking nearby, I shifted my tank into reverse and took a detour back the way I came across the large suspension bridge.

 

Then, all at once, a blinding Railgun bolt and a stream of electricity crashed into me, effectively putting me out of action.

 

I sat stunned for a moment. Where in blazes did they come from? Watching from the limbo of respawn, I studied the tank that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere to impede my escape. An upgraded model of Wasp and Isida in tandem with the paint Dirty, most of which were available at his rank of First Sergeant, likely came from a kit of sorts. But... how could he afford the kit at such a low rank? I mean, even I only have about 3k from saving since Corporal!

 

He must've bought crystals at some point, I assumed. Some folks are just made of money.

 

By this point, I had respawned in an alcove comprised of a building, a convenient N₂O canister waiting for a tanker nearby. I gladly accepted and took the wide exit to my right. Coming to a junction with access to the main highway, I took the elevated path in hopes to identify my other attacker.

 

It didn't take me long to find him. A bloodstained M0 Hornet/Rail, rank of Master-Sergeant, was scanning the horizon from atop the building to my right. Apparently excellent aim, too, I deduced from the cross-map shot he made to obliterate some hapless Wasp/Twins. The Mary-coated Hornet was soon accompanied by the Wasp/Isida from earlier, and proceeded to stand guard on top of the tower, watching for anyone daring to ascend. They've teamed up to have a better chance at winning. With the Railgun targeting anyone at a distance and the Isida keeping those who managed to get close at bay, it'll be nigh impossible to try and break through their barrier. Unless...

 

Turning in my seat, I called to Josh. "Hey man, you wanna team up here for a minute?"

 

He flashed me a devilish grin. "What, you get tired of being toasted by me?"

 

I rolled my eyes. "No, I mean to tackle those two that have the building. They're gonna win if we don't do something about them."

 

"Alright, you have a point. Let's take 'em."

 

I look back to the screen just as a barrage of azure spheres impacted my craft, causing it to implode more or less instantly. Argh. This map is killing my average. Annoyed, I charged out of my respawn point by the building layered in bushes and proceed to wipe out an AFK Hunter/Shaft. I set my eyes to sky to look out for the team atop the tower. A sky-blue line across the sky confirmed the Railgun was still up there. Chances are the Isida is still up there too, waiting for someone like me to try and climb up. He'll outdo me easily with his healing factor if I took him one on one.

 

An idea began to germinate in my mind. "Josh, see if you can scale the left side of the building to lure him out; I'll try to come around the back out of sight of the Railgun and finish off the Isida. Then whoever's still alive can kill the Railgunner."

 

"Got it," He replied. "I need to wait for my Firebird to recharge, though. Somebody else tried to attack me a few seconds ago."

 

By this point, I was already inside the tunnel at the northeastern corner of the map, scrambling any supplies that still remained on that side of the field. I managed to scrape up another N₂O box and a medical kit. Still haven't been spotted yet, I thought. Hopefully Josh will show up on time...

 

To my great relief, I saw Reams-Greenwood tearing through the road across from me, ready to start his climb up the tower. His navy-blue hull had a slightly red hue to it, as though he'd just finished a sparring match with another Firebird. He's not gonna survive contact with an Isida if he's already weakened. I have to move quickly to Freeze the Isida before it finishes him off.

 

I cruised out of the tunnel at top speed, facing the hallway where the blue flag would typically be. My machine didn't slow down by a very large margin when it hit the adjacent ramp leading to the top of the building. Cresting the ramp's peak, I scanned the pinnacle. The bloody Hornet/Rail was still there, oblivious to my invasion.

 

The Isida, however, was not quite as unheeding.

 

I barely made it up the secondary ramp before my machine was struck by orange lighting. Quickly, I descended the ramp I had just climbed and leapt from the end of the cliff, hoping to take my assailant with me. Like clockwork, he took the bait and followed suit. I motioned to Josh. "Now's your chance; climb the tower and finish off the Railgun!"

 

Thank goodness I had the foresight to grab that Nitro, I thought as I rounded the corner to the second entrance of the spire. The Wasp/Isida was in hot pursuit, its turret occasionally blinking with stored ivory electricity trying to test the range between him and I. I could not be caught so quickly, however; within moments, I had already ascended to the top of the spire to accompany Reams-Greenwood, of whom was doing battle with one incredibly irritated Hornet/Railgun. Judging by the seething glow of his hull, it wasn't going to be long before he succumbed to his injuries.

 

This didn't stop him from launching a pale blue beam straight through my partner, blasting him to pieces.

 

I was alone now, with both members of the team in hot pursuit.

 

Not good.

 

Never stopping my stride, I dashed across the blacktop roof and hosed the bloody machine with a crystalline jet of pure ice, finishing what my comrade had started. Without hesitation, I continued my journey to the other side of the roof to make my way to the highway. If I could just make it to that Double Power box, I can take care of my pursuer and proceed to hold the top until Josh gets back. My Wasp was moving at top speed to try and outmaneuver my opponent, but unfortunately, the Wasp/Isida seemed to have had enough of this silly game of cat and mouse; an orange shell icon loomed over his tank, indicating that he used the '4' key to play catch-up. Sheesh, this guy means business, I thought as I rounded the corner onto the elevated road. I'm never gonna make it to that box in time before he turns me into the next Tesla project.

 

I considered my options. The exit ramp from the highway was to the left, just ahead. There was a jersey barrier beneath the bridge that I was closing in upon. Before the barrier was an another hazard-symbol stamped box, this one next to yet another green wooden box. But I couldn't safely hop down there in Freeze, I thought. I'd wind up upside down in an instant unless I drove straight from the edge of the road, but the residual turn would be enough to throw me sideways... I looked back at the concrete blockade dividing the stage. If I could somehow roll myself over the top of that, I could maybe land on my tracks. The Isida was gaining more ground; it would be a matter of seconds before it caught me and I'd be finished. Could I pull this off?

 

Only one way to find out, I concluded.

 

Slamming onto my right arrow key, I turned sharply from the road and careened off of the edge. As I anticipated, the momentum I still retained moving right pitched my tank sideways in midair, leaving me falling at a 90º angle as I impacted the corner of the jersey barrier before me.

 

Instead of me flattening myself against the side of it and winding up on my side, however, the most peculiar thing happened: the edge of my tank clipped the barrier. But rather than colliding with the vertical face and having the rest of the tread follow suit, it slipped to the top and rolled my tank, spinning the rest of my tank wildly along the side before letting it crash down with a painful thud onto its treads. Somehow, it managed to survive the roll and land properly.

 

Heh, it's about time I had a bit of good luck come my way, I thought, astonished at the performance I more or less witnessed, rather than performed. Wheeling my Wasp about, I stole my way back to the opposite side of the jersey barriers to swipe a Double Power crate just as the Wasp/Isida came crashing down almost in the same method.

 

Almost, spare the fact that he gracelessly bounced from the edge of the platform and landed turret-down on the concrete.

 

Feeling rather smug, albeit somewhat undeservingly so, I ended his apparent misery with a continuous cloud spray of ice and carried on my way once more to conquer the building.

 

Twelve minutes later, the tide of the match was turning in our favor; our miniature dream team had held the top of the board for about three minutes by this point, and the previous team had attempted to assault the tower repeatedly. However, with Reams-Greenwood guarding one side, napalm at the ready, and I the other, waiting to intercept anyone daring enough to take the highway, we held our own exceptionally well. At one point, the Wasp/Isida managed to bowl over our coup d'etat for a short while in conjunction with a drugging Hunter/Thunder, which promptly betrayed and decimated the poor, Dirty-clad tank afterwards. It had become quite clear that we were doing exceptionally well with combined efforts, so as any typical DM-goer would do in that situation, they sought to wipe us from the face of the Earth. The steady stream of Wasps and Hunters allowed Reams-Greenwood to melt through most tankers attempting to blindly charge up the ramp, scoring him a total of 38 kills and 16 deaths.

 

Of course, that 2.38 D/L may or may not have been a result of him chewing through Double Powers like there was no tomorrow, despite my previous warning of maybe needing them later, but it was still nice watching assailants pop like dried corn kernels under the heat.

 

There was about thirty seconds left in the match. Out of the corner of my peripheral, I spotted the bloodstained Railgun creeping up the far highway ramp to the right. "Josh, watch the Rail, back into cover."

 

I was already in my own automated process of dipping behind the service ramp extruding from the edge of the building, the height of which was enough to protect me from a shot aimed for a good portion of my tank. Whatever Forester coating did reveal from the sides, however, was struck by a blue pike, nearly emptying my health bar spare a meager number of emerald pixels. If he gets another kill, he's likely to steal the top spot of the match, I deduced with a quick peek at the scoreboard. We don't have range quite like his.

 

Josh had already come to the same conclusion. "John, I don't think he's seen me yet, I've been lurking in the back; I can try and race to him after he lets off another shot, but you're gonna have to try and draw his fire."

 

"Alright," I replied as I witnessed the Hornet/Railgun rev back down to the safety of the highway's exit ramp, "but try and sneak around him from behind. Don't charge him head on, or he's either gonna make a break for it and kill someone else or take the bullet to you."

 

"Okay, I'll try the small tunnel to the right of the highway." And with that, Speed Boost in hand, he leapt from precipice.

Alright, I thought. Time to hold up my end.

 

Feigning an attempt to target an upended Mammoth/Firebird lying by the end of the highway, I drove headlong from my connection to the building, watching the Railgun. Sure enough, it had acquired me as its target and was preparing a good vantage point to finish the job. Reams-Greenwood was nowhere to be seen. Hurry, man...

 

As I was nearing the exit and coming to meet with the fallen fortress, the poor beast still attempting to barbecue the tarmac beneath him, I turned to face the rock outcropping to my left to make sure nobody was nosing around nearby, hoping to score a lucky kill by shooting from blind spots. Fortunately for me, no one was around, spare a Ricochet/Hunter too focused on meeting up with the crippled dragon to care about me. The red and white vehicle was closing fast, readying to charge around the rock outcrop and unleash its fury.

 

Looking to the tunnel across the way, I witnessed Reams-Greenwood tearing out from behind the jersey barrier row and straight towards me, a full array of supplies active. I immediately reversed direction, curling back around the rock outcrop once again. The Railgunner followed suit. He had no idea what was coming his way.

 

I could only chuckle as he rounded the corner, expecting a wounded Wasp, but finding the volcanic eye of a Firebird pointed directly at him. He didn't last for long enough to unload his shot, let alone make an escape attempt.

 

Josh and I high-fived across the table as the timer ran to zero and the prize funds were doled out. Shortly afterwards, the Hornet/Railgun/Mary that had succumbed to the blast admitted his astonishment.

 

[collinskev: dang Reams-Greenwood you and Sigma_Ctu-s1_V3 are a good team]

 

Josh raised an eyebrow at the statement. I could only shrug. "Well, aren't we?" Another message popped onto the screen shortly thereafter, this time by the wily Wasp/Isida that had allied with the Railgunner.

 

[AllTimeGerman99: no understatement there. how would you two like to join a clan?]

 

 

 

*     *     *

 

 

 

I noisily dragged my bike back into the garage, utterly exhausted by today's events. 7:58, read the circular device on my arm. Mom's gonna be home soon. I looked down at my sweat-coated clothing as I fished my pockets for a key to the door. I need to pull myself together and get some chores done.

 

Disarming the deadbolt and entering the house, I trudged to my room, threw my bag down by my bed with a thud, and set off to topple the haphazardous pile of dishes conquering the crimson dry-rack.

 

The neon-green analog that inset the oven read 8:35 by the time the last fork was scrubbed spotless and the remainder of my English assignment had been scrawled into a sheet of loose-leaf paper. After adding the last full stop to the page, I carefully tucked it into the corroded front pocket of my degraded binder. This thing is a mess, I thought. I'll have to ask Ma about getting a new one at some point. I can't afford to lose all of my hard work to a strong gust of wind.

 

After replacing the carrier back into the bag, I dug around under the bricklayer of pillows and uncovered my reliable ASUS. Popping the screen up, I was greeted as usual by a pair of ornamental sea-slug Pokemon and an empty text box requesting my password. I complied and waited quietly, the only sound being the intermittent ticking and whir of the hardware on my lap. This laptop overheated earlier due to overextended use, I realized suddenly as I listened to the mechanical orchestra. I need to take it easy on this thing. Give it a break or two, shut it down properly all the time.

 

It seems as though now the WiFi receiver is working properly, though, I thought bitterly as a fresh Google Chrome tab opened without a hitch. I began typing the URL to Tanki's main forum page. Let's take a look at the forums and see what waking nightmares await me now.

 

I wasn't remotely surprised to find that a few new messages had sprung from the Polyatomic [Pc] page.

 

However, what did catch me off guard was the one responsible for the last notification.

 

The message therein finished the job in bowling me over.

 

[T3chio: I understand there were some technical difficulties in gathering all of the necessary members at that time. I propose that instead of calling a forfeit, we will reschedule the war for the same time next week. If this same thing happens again, however, Polyatomic will be required to forfeit the match. See you next week.]

 

I sat motionless on the recliner, reading the passage over and over again. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

 

We have a second chance, I concluded after a few minutes of staring at the page like some slack-jawed fool. I vaguely noticed a tiny orange bubble appear over the Skype icon. There's hope yet. The ball of anxiety that had grown roots throughout my body suddenly shuddered and weakened, retreating into itself.

 

Except this time around, things are going to be handled a bit differently.

 

 

Read Part VIII Here

 

 

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Edited July 20, 2017 by Hexed

[fordmustang12345 3,910]

YAYAYYYYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYyAYyYYYAYAYAYAAYAYAYAYA !!!!!!!!.1.!!!!!!!!!!! Its finially out !!!

[DragonOfStorms 2,706]

I was so excited to read this! Thanks, Shed! As always, extremely engaging. Amazing writing, kept me on the edge of my seat bed. I was surprised by the plot twist, but pleasantly so!

[anuclearbomb 220]

heluva cliff hanger for a while there... Glad to see you back at it.

Edited August 1, 2016 by anuclearbomb

[CJGuitar 23]

"It's Not Over Yet" by For King and Country is the them song. 

 

Been waiting for this a long time.

Edited August 2, 2016 by CJGuitar

[rutvij_deadpool 125]

@BLASTER872 when are training ? ? 

[BLASTER872 1,892]

@BLASTER872 when are training ? ? 

Please, if you want to ask questions, direct them to PM not spam a topic. Thanks :D

[r_fire-keeper0 9]

I really really liked the Future DM story, so exciting. Great story