a small, agile light tank that is widely considered weak and non-threatening by other machines
tiny SPG (self-propelled gun) on the basis of a light tank chassis
rather large and slow-moving SPG based on a heavy tank; a rare sight in the Hummelverse
a tough bunch of big bad scary heavies, imagine whichever you like
Winter had come around in the South, a rather cold one that had turned its green rolling hills white and snow-covered, and frozen over runlets as well as lakes. The large river near the border of the Luchs Brotherhood‘s territory was still mostly ice-free; its current was simply too strong for the frozen water to settle. The Brotherhood was the opposite of bothered by this, of course. There was no reason for a Brother to cross the river in any location except the designated fjords, and even then only with special permission.
After all, their sworn enemies, the ELC Clan lived on the other side of that river. If anything, it wouldn‘t give them any silly ideas of extraordinary trespassing.
There was also another big body of water that the Brotherhood was very familiar with - the large lake underneath the Sun Rock. It had frozen over completely very early into the winter, its normally moss-covered embankment now being covered in a layer of firmly compressed snow and dirt. Countless tank tracks had left their marks on it.
The Brotherhood was having a blast during the day with this frozen over lake, using it as a sort of makeshift ice rink since one of their members had discovered that you could skid and drift on top of it if you were driving really fast. Like the winter before, this also had quickly led to a fair-like accumulation of tanks putting up little tents and booths around the lake to show off their craftsmanship, hand out foreign trinkets and delicacies, or offer entertainment in the form of games and plays. All the while, the lake was basically overrun with frolicking Luchses who would play tag with each other or race laps around the lake while trying to not skid off the ice.
It was no different on that particular afternoon. Many of the Brotherhood members were out and about doing their usual tasks, but whoever wasn‘t busy at the moment would visit the Frozen Lake Fair for entertainment and company. That day, there was even a special guest visiting the merry mingling - the Messiah and leader of the clan himself, Brian, was honoring his Brothers with his presence.
At the moment, he was strolling along the embankment of the lake, inspecting the various booths. Any Brother who saw him would respectfully bow and be delighted by the visit. Following behind their leader‘s wake was the usual procession of his seers as well as the high priest Neil; not all the seers were around at the time, but the most devoted of them would never miss an opportunity to witness him. In specific, that meant the young but ambitious Melissa, as well as her bitter rival Digby. As always, they were following their Messiah around like loyal puppies, observing his every move closely to gush about the majesty and divinity of his gestures and posture (for the lack of being able to understand anything he said). Their gushing was interrupted by each other ceaselessly as the two seers never seemed to be able to agree with each other‘s interpretations.
Not following as closely, but still sticking around were a blind seer named Ophelia, who was being led around by Eoin the Faithsayer. They seemed more interested in actually experiencing the fair than experiencing their leader.
“Where’d he leave his wife today?” a small SPG thought out loud as he watched Eoin struggle to keep the blind seer on track to not purposefully bump into every other Brother or even the booths. Despite not being a Luchs, Wibble the SU-18 was staying with the Brotherhood on the basis of a peculiar arrangement involving his master - a leFH18B2 SPG who had been more or less “adopted” by the Brotherhood due to them believing he was some sort of reincarnated member of theirs. Their main task here had been cleaning and maintaining the temple, and looking after the lobsters, but when that was done for the day they would often participate in the daily life outside the temple - like they were doing right then.
But it seemed like that master, his name Altær, wasn’t paying attention. As no answer came, Wibble turned around and noticed that the leFH’s rear was facing him now. Curious what could be more fascinating to watch than the most important members of their clan, Wibble drove up next to him and looked in the same direction that Altær was gazing so intently.
“Is something wrong, master?” the templehand asked anxiously.
Altær didn’t say anything, but nodded his cannon at one of the nearby hills. Wibble still couldn’t see anything there, but then tried sending out a couple pulses from his special sights. The feedback revealed several objects in motion, of different size and shape, approaching the Sun Rock.
Alarmed at once, Wibble’s gaze darted to Altær again, giving him an inquiring and worried frown. Altær finally seemed to have come to a conclusion about what to do about this strange situation.
“Let’s reposition to where we can get a better view,” he murmured and turned around to head off towards some of the nearby buildings. Wibble made a frightened squeak and scurried after him. If there was danger nearby, shouldn't one of the guards have noticed it? Why were foreigners able to enter the territory and get this close without the whole clan being in a giant stir about it? Something was clearly afoot.
It didn’t take long until the two SPGs reached a more secluded spot off to the side, away from the crowd. And just as they halted and turned back to look at the direction again where the unknown entities were approaching from behind the hills, the silhouettes of machines started appearing.
First, a Luchs crested. He was a Brother, but something seemed extremely off about his behavior as he slowly drove towards the crowd by the lake. His cannon was lowered anxiously, and his whole frame looked unusually beaten up. Following behind him were frightfully large tanks, tough heavies by the looks of it. They didn’t seem anxious at all, in fact they trudged ahead grimly as if with violent intent.
Now it was getting difficult for the Brotherhood to not notice them. More and more of the Luchses would stop their merry activities to turn and stare at the intruders. Immediately, many of them were bristling with hostility and trying to swarm the foreign tanks (who towered over the crowd easily), but no one seemed to really dare to attack. Wibble realized the reason for that eventually as the convoy of the Guard Brother and the eight strangers behind him were reaching the first booths around the lake’s embankment - the guard’s tow rings had chains attached that on the opposite ends were held by one of the strangers, and that very same stranger had their massive cannon trained on the backside of the guard’s turret. Undoubtedly, attacking the strangers would mean risking that they’d execute their hostage. Fierce shouts and even little stones and snow balls picked up from the ground were hurled at the intruders as they made their way through the angry crowd of small light tanks, who parted before them like the sea at the bow of a warship.
The last of the oblivious Luchses also became aware of what was happening when the convoy finally halted upon reaching the edge of the frozen lake and one of the heavy tanks at the front fired his cannon into the air.
All the Brothers flinched and most movement ceased; all optics were on the strangers.
With his cannon still smoking from the shot and impatient puffs of heated mist blowing from his vents, the apparent leader of the intruders looked around himself with fierce optics. His turret and frame had angles sharp enough to look like they could cut through steel, the dark paint furrowed by years of accumulated combat wear. After he seemed unsuccessful finding what he was looking for - his expression growing even more annoyed after a while - he raised his voice in a harsh bark.
“Where’s your leader??”
Turrets started turning among the assembled crowd of Luchses as they all had seen their glorious Messiah around just a minute ago, but naturally it was a bit difficult for any particular Luchs to stand out in this mass of nearly identical looking tanks.
The crowd eventually started to part and countless claws pointed to the back of the lake, where underneath the large overhang of the Sun Rock, a particular Luchs was now standing and staring at the newcomers. From where Wibble and Altær were parked, they had a pretty good view at that Luchs; the templehand breathed a small sigh of relief as he recognized their savior and leader, Brian… and then got even more tense as he started worrying about the possible outcome of this leader facing off against a giant angry heavy tank three times his size.
Throwing a quick look at Altær, Wibble whispered to him, “Should we…….?” The leFH shook his cannon, however.
“Have faith,” he replied.
Behind Brian, slightly off to the side, the high priest had taken position as well; though Neil looked nowhere as brave as his leader as he was all but cowering behind him. Nevertheless, Neil’s presence was needed - as Brian started speaking incomprehensibly to the intruders in a firm and charismatic voice, it was on Neil to translate.
“You are standing in front of him!” Neil shouted at the heavy tanks, immediately ducking as he was given eight glares in response.
“Well, we have a complaint!” the rugged leader of the heavy tanks replied, though it was obvious that he wasn’t sure whether to glare at Brian or Neil as he spoke.
“What would that complaint be, eee…?” Neil asked, even though Brian stayed quiet this time.
“You pathetic twerps want to collect ‘tributes’ from my team, with what justification? What makes you think a bunch of lowtier weaklings is entitled to my team’s hard-earned fuel?” the heavy spat.
Many optics shifted and hushed discussion broke out among the crowd. Even more offended looks were thrown at the intruders. Even Wibble gasped in disbelief. How could they speak to the Messiah and his people so disrespectfully?
Even Neil seemed to be upset enough to forget about being scared for a moment as he chirped back indignantly, “Y-Yaro!! Silence! You heathens will not address our Holy Highness with such… such insolence!” As if realizing that he was being a lot braver than could be healthy for him, he ducked even further than before.
Eight heavy cannons turned towards Neil in particular now, and the rumbling snarl of powerful engines could be heard. The heavy tanks’ leader moved closer to the two Luchses menacingly now, the ice crunching precariously under his massive tracks as he started rolling onto the lake’s frozen surface.
“What was that? You think you can boss me around, you little shit?”
Only now did Wibble notice that one of the heavy tanks had a certain trophy strapped to the side of his hull - the dismembered turret of a Luchs. A painted on paw print on its side left no doubts about its origin. With a cringing tremble coursing through his hull, the SPG realized this must have been the remains of the Brother who had approached the team about the tribute. Silently, he prayed for no one to say anything that would piss off these strangers even more now.
This time, Neil was probably finally too frightened to even burst out with another reply. Wibble could see the Luchs shaking like a pile of leaves even from all the way over there. Clearly he was fighting against an intense urge to run away or at least shirk back further with the angry giant inching closer. Maybe he could already imagine himself and his Messiah being crushed underneath those broad tracks. Wibble certainly could see this vividly in his mind.
But Brian didn’t seem intimidated in the least. He was silent, but slowly raised a hand. Much to everyone’s surprise, the heavy tank halted just a cannon’s length away from the Luchs. From the slightly befuddled looks of both his team mates as well as himself, it seemed like he himself was surprised as well.
All the onlookers were dead silent, and the SPG onlookers were no exception. Not even nature seemed to dare make a sound. The very air seemed to vibrate with the tension of the situation. Even the growl of the heavy tanks’s engines felt hushed in that moment. Or maybe Wibble was having a panic attack. However, there was one particular sound that was so deafeningly loud that it was hard to imagine that no one else was noticing it - a strange repeated, muffled cracking noise that seemed to increase in intensity with each repetition. Wibble had no idea what this sound could be. He had to assume it was the encasing of his core starting to burst at the seams from the strain of the fear he was feeling.
For a moment, nothing at all happened. No one moved. The heavy tank leader was about to say something else now, but he only managed to get out the first syllable of it before he trailed off as Brian’s raised hand was extended towards the intruder. Of course someone as large and fearsome as a veteran heavy tank would not shy away from something as harmless as a hand reaching out to him. He really did not, but it was clear that he was definitely not welcoming it either. A very irritated cloud of mist burst from his vents as the Luchs’s palm came to rest on the top of the stranger’s turret.
And then, with a sudden startling CRACK and rush of motion, the ice underneath the heavy’s tracks shattered and he all but fell into the depths of the lake underneath. The water swallowed the vehicle so quickly and violently that he could only scream out from surprise but not do anything to stop himself from sinking like a rock. Not even his teammates were able to react - before they could as much as gasp and rush to his aid, the tip of his cannon was already disappearing into the hole his hull had left behind in the lake’s frozen surface.
The crowd gasped in shock as well, but they had the presence of mind to back off instead of rushing forward. One of the heavies did not, and the moment his tracks touched the ice, he swiftly followed his leader into the depths. The remaining six were more hesitant about drowning themselves and shifted on their tracks with uncertainty. With his captors being distracted, the Guard Brother they had kept on a chain quickly broke free and rushed to safety among his kin.
Brian, meanwhile, was standing completely still, his arm still extended and hovering above where the other leader’s turret had been just seconds ago. His gaze darted about for a brief moment, and all optics were now on him. A few more seconds passed in total silence.
Then, he quickly raised his arm high into the air, and his other arms as well, in a praying gesture. As if they had been waiting for something like this to happen the entire day, the seers could suddenly be seen rushing towards their Messiah - Melissa and Digby were clearly fighting over getting to him first, pushing at each other’s frames with annoyance. They reached him at about the exact same time anyway, coming to a skidding halt on the slippery ice (that got Digby dangerously close to the hole in the ice, but neither him nor Melissa seemed to notice this). They both yelled in unison while stumbling over their own words from excitement, “BEHOLD! A MIRACLE!! A miracle from our great Messiah!! He struck down His foes with His heavenly might! Praise be to him! EEEEEE!”
From that moment on, the crowd of Luchses went wild with celebrating chants of “EEEE!” as the Brothers started erratically hugging each other and throwing their arms up in prayer and driving about in circles. No one even really paid attention to the intruders anymore, but Wibble at least could see them flee in a rush. He looked after them with relief washing over his entire frame, before also joining in to the chanting with cheerful, meek little “eeee!”s. He excitedly hugged Altær’s large frame, but the leFH didn’t seem to be celebrating as exuberantly and just stood next to him, looking slightly inconvenienced by that action until his apprentice awkwardly let go again with a flustered clearing of his vents.
