EPT
The Tank’s Letter
The Siege Tank always considered himself the king of the ground. His broad vision, awesome power, and even his ability to convert to a mobile short-ranged vehicle. His intimidating form and his heavy armor have always been a source of pride. Even if he were injured, he could be repaired back to pristine condition. His most enjoyable moments are when he sits stilly on top of a high peak, gazing down at the crowds below. One “boom” later, and the world restores itself to peace.
“I am indeed perfect,” he thought. He truly feels like the blessed of God – all the sunlight focuses on him, and the air is clear and fragrant. It’s a beautiful world.
Until he met the Reaver.
He will never forget that day, the first time he attacked the Zerg forces with the allied forces.
The tanks had already sieged into formation. The Marines and Zealots charged up front to halt the Zerg advances, but the Reaver only came at the end, and even had to descend from the skies.
The Shuttle flew to behind the Tanks, and unloaded a strange unit. Big and bulky, with a suit of shining gold armor, but is shaped like a giant caterpillar. When the enemy forces are already advancing past the frontlines, it’s in no hurry, moving slowly and surely. Seeing this crawling, the tank didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. “What the hell is this, a giant bug haha.”
As the tanks continuously fired on the Hydralisk masses, an Overlord sneaked past the front lines and unloaded a group of Zerglings next to the tanks. The Zerglings are in the deadzone of the tanks – they need to unsiege, or an entire squad will die to these few Zerglings. As the Zerglings began their assault, suddenly, an orb of light appeared. Like a snake, it wound its way across the other Protoss troops, and slowly approached. With one “ping” it exploded. The entire group of Zerglings fell down with it…By the time the tank realized what happened, he was just in time to see the Reaver board its Airforce One and fly into the distance.
The tank, filled with mixed emotions and so disoriented from his usual role of perching gloriously on top a mountain, unlike usual, hid in a corner of the base. After a few collaborations with the Reaver, he felt more and more anxious and discontent. He desided to pen a letter to his “friend,” the Reaver.
My Dear Reaver,
I have known you for three minutes, and we’ve collaborated on multiple occasions. My name is the Siege Tank. Of course, for you, to remember this might be difficult – the only time you’ve seen me is in a group of sieged tanks. For a noble such as yourself, remembering the trivial names of any individual is surely a daunting task.
But I’m the opposite. I remember you, and I know you. Oh how I know you. How aloof and dignified you are! You are always alone, and always appear in dramatic fashion. Always, you descend from the skies at a crucial moment, and immediately afterwards, you leave on your private jet. The form, the grace! I had thought that only the legendary superheroes who wear their underwear outside their pants could attain this glory!
Such an unique hero, how can I forget you?
I can’t forget, knowing that the cost of your golden armor alone is worth half a Commander Center…
I can’t forget, knowing that you traverse thousands of miles without setting foot on a single patch of soil…
I can’t forget, seeing you standing atop a mountain top like a king ruling over his domain, while saying “Scarabs don’t fly.”
I can’t forget, seeing your Scarabs chase after retreating forces, and, a marathon later, disappear into thin air.
How can I forget that when the enemy attacks and we’re attacking with everything we have, you tell us you’re “reloading?”
How can I believe that, a high cost unit such as yourself, doesn’t even come with a Scarab?
How can I comprehend that, after every round, you retreat to protect your golden armor?
I can understand all the advantages you have. After all, everyone’s different. Everyone is better at something. All of these strengths I have none. But weaknesses that you lack, well, those I have many.
But all else aside, I am most envious of one thing: You will attack a thousand times, and at one success, countless rounds of applause ring out. Everytime you fire and then escape, the audience will unleash cheers and shouts. Their exuberant faces, their impassioned expressions – it’s something that I’ve never encountered in all my time.
I feel like we’re in the same coliseum, but are playing by different rules. You’re like a million-dollar contract soccer star. After a long wait, just one goal will elicit the wildest response. Me? I’m more like a basketball player, running back and forth. Even ten or twenty baskets will only earn scant applause.
A small, insignificant figure like myself, who has never even boarded a plane; you, a cherished token, soaring above the skies with no wings.
A perfect figure such as yourself, you seem to be able to do anything. Please, tell me, is there anything that I can do that you cannot? Is there nothing? Please, come up with at least one, to redeem a figment of my worth.
--A humble tank
12’30”
After the letter had been sent out, the tank’s rage seemed have left with it. He imagined the Reaver’s expression when he reads the letter – the fat body will be shaking in anger. He imagins that the next time the Reaver sees him, he will avoid him. He knows that there is nothing that the Reaver can do but he can’t. He can imagine the anguish the Reaver will experience as he tries to think of a reply.
These days of disappointment have finally been relieved. The tank’s world returned to its rightful light.
Until he saw the Reaver’s reply.
He had imagined so many possible scenarios, but nothing prepared him to see the one-lined reply.
Dear Tank,
I cannot kill allied troops; you can; thank you.
Story one - Zergling here!
Story two - HT here!
Story three - Observer and Science Vessel here!
Story four – Mutalisk here!
Story five – Overlord here!
Story six – Medic here!
Story seven – Dark Archon/Zergling here!
