It was another rainy British afternoon, I had just finished conducting my lab at Clarendon laboratories and was making way back to my dorm. As I walked down the red stoned pathway towards my dorm, I listened to the heavy raindrops that continuously pelted the surface with their impact. I continued walking down the path, my wrist watch began to beep and I immediately killed the sound with my other hand.

Taking a brief stop, I reach into my handbag and I search for my painkillers. This was odd, they weren't where I would always find them. Not good, any moment now and the pain from the fifty gram piece of shrapnel stuck inside my right leg would start to act up. I continue searching, beginning to feel distressed but then I remembers I'd accidentally left them inside my morning lecture hall.

Panicking, I take a quick scan around, trying to find anything to sit on. The things I saw were just the lamp posts lined on either sides of the path, an oak tree that was about fifty meters away, and a bed of roses behind me.

Suddenly, the pain in my leg begins to stab me. My right leg buckles and I lose my balance, dropping onto the wet stone pathway, soaking my pants in the process. The pain continues, jabbing and jabbing away at my rear thigh, it felt like my right leg was being impaled by a mad ox's horn over and over again.

I begin to cry because of the pain but not only that, this pain brings back a memory that I'd been wedging myself for the past three years to forget. You see, there was once a time that I wasn't a cripple, a time when I did not rely on 3 Paracetamol tablets every single day of the year and collapse on the ground like this if I didn't take them at 8 hour intervals. More importantly, there was a time when I had a crew, a time when I had a tank and I was seemingly on top of the world. I was a tank commander, a company commander, a rising star that was only rivaled by my counterparts attending other post-secondary institutions. Harvard, Princeton, Yale, name it and you can find in the records that I'd led my company and bested them in the ring of honor.

The sad thing was, this was all in the past. The glorious dream began as soon as I joined the Senshado club at my school, I quickly rose to a spotlight position and along with my crew, and we were pretty much an unstoppable force. Unstoppable indeed we were, but this all changed during that rainy afternoon in Japan two years ago.

Slowly, this memory begins to drift into my mind, like I was in a movie theater, the only audience member…. Slowly the movie played.

3 Years ago…

"Vicks, can you dismount and guide the tank over the bridge? It's kind of narrower than I feel comfortable to traverse with my own naked eyes." Nicole, my driver, asks as we come to a grinding halt in front of the steel roped bridge.

"Copy that, going to work" I reply.

Immediately, I boost myself out of Valiant Pigeon and clambered off the hull of my Centurion Mk. II and made my way towards the creaking bridge. I briefly inspect the bridge for its strength and sturdiness and give it a marginal pass. Crossing a tank the weight of my centurion would really test the bridge but if it can pass through, then the rest of my company could pass through too.

"Uhh, tombstone this is Ghostrider. We're going to be delayed a little for the RV at point Hector twelve because we need to traverse ourselves over a rickety bridge, how copy over?" I talk into my headset.

"Ghostrider, Tombstone copies. Take your time, out." Command replies.

"Alright chaps, form up a straight line, we need to cross this bridge one at a time. Keep your hatches open just in case the bridge gives away and you'll get the chance to bail and not sink with your tank in the process, alright!?" I shout.

A series of laughter was my reply as the rest of the tank commanders, and their crew began laughing away. When was the last time a bridge gave away to the weight of a tank? Wait… it never happened before! I shake my head and giggle, I know what I said was nothing less but bullshit to everyone here but as the commanding officer of the company, I've got to remind people of the safety guidelines.

"Alright Nicky, we're up first. Line up onto the bridge." I tell my driver, raising both of my arms up.

My driver responded immediately and she carefully throttles the tank so that it was nearly perfect to squeeze its side into the narrow bridge. I then carefully use my arms and instruct my driver to nudge the direction of the vehicle left and right, left and right, again and again, until it fitted perfectly onto the narrow bridge.

"Well that was easy." Nicole laughs as she continues ahead, dead slow on the bridge.

"At least you're not washing in the wake again like that time back in High school." I grin as I keep my arms up, in case the tank strayed in either direction.

Suddenly, a shot rings out behind my back. Instantly I spin myself around and scan my twelve o'clock. They don't call me a hawk without reason as I was easily able to see through the camouflage of the Pershings ahead of me.

Pnnnt Pnnt!

I turn back around and find two of my tanks had been knocked out.

"Company, present and fire will you?!" I order.

"Copy that, commence firing!" My X.O. replies.

In unison, the rest of my company begins to squeeze whatever they got at the enemy.

"You might want to get back inside." My gunner advises me.

"Yah I'm on it." I reply, quickly racing back to my opened hatch.

HHHHhhhhhhwwwwwwwwww

As I begin climbing onto my tank, I heard this… windy sound. I listen more carefully to it and I swear it was heading right at me. I am no stranger of being shot at by shells, hell, shells have come inches away from my head on numerous occasions in the past and I've gotten used to it. Additionally, by listening to their sounds many and many times over again, I developed a unique ability to judge whether or not it was going to, god forbid, headshot me.

The sound of this shell, I can tell that it was headed straight for me yet… I was still another ten seconds from dropping myself into the turret and clamp the hatch shut. The sound of the incoming shell loudened, I estimate that there was about another 6 seconds before it would impact nearby and so I continue climbing onto my tank. Four seconds come around, I hear the shell even louder now! Goddamit, was it actually that attracted to me?!

Normally, I would continue climbing onto my tank but for some reason, I didn't. Instead I quickly shifted my weight onto my right leg and before I knew it, I'd jump tank and was heading off the side of the bridge.

"Ohhh… everyone's going to call me a coward after this." I think to myself as I pass the side wires of the bridge.

I continued listening to the shell up until now. One minute to impact, and it sounded like it was going to hit the deep river some fifty feet underneath me. Then… the horror unfolded right in front of my eyes.

It seemed like time suddenly slowed itself down, a millisecond of time turned into a minute. I found myself floating in midair, watching every single passing minute as the 24 inch shell… slowly make its way, dead centre towards my opened hatch. The movie climaxed as it hit and…. Detonated right on my opened cupola. A blinding flash it was and I quickly felt the heat of the flash followed by the deafening boom accompanied with the bone breaking shockwave. It felt like I was being cooked right in front of an exploding sun.

Then…. Came the flying pieces of metal. One….two…three… four… too many to count, burning pieces of hot metal cut their way into my body. I was thrown back further from by the shockwave perhaps another fifty feet before I impacted the cold water which was when I fainted.

After this, my memory was fragmented. I could feel myself being winched, the sound of sirens…. I saw of trio of doctors working on me on a table. Then, everything just faded to darkness.

When I woke up, I found myself in a hospital bed. My mother was asleep, clutching onto my left hand and I could see my father talking to a doctor outside the room.

You've got to be kidding me right? What in the name of Neptune just happened?! My brain quickly kicks in right there and I speak.

"Am I dreaming?" I ask, shaking my left hand, startling my mother awake.

She sits up straight and for a few silent and awkward seconds, then the tears slowly trickle out from her eyes.

"I hope I'm not dreaming." She replies.

"Well I hope I am!" I awkwardly shout.

Suddenly, a seizure provoking pain starts to emulate from my right thigh.

"What in the world? What the hell just happened?!" I gasp, I look at my mother. "How long was I out for? Where's my crew? How's the tank?"

My mom shakes my head, my father, who somehow noticed our… awkward conversation, races into the room and he quickly hugs me, squeezing every single droplet of air out.

"Mommy…. Daddy…Where's my tank and crew? Where are they?!" I beg her to tell me, tears begin to form in my eyes.

Mum shakes her head. "It's all gone Victoria… it's all gone… your tank, everyone else who was left inside.

Present day

Oh such horrid memories, why does it have to come on a day like this? It can't be helped, I continue to cry, alone on the stone walkway, and the rain only makes it worse as it assaults my face with it never ending load, after load of slaps.

"You'll catch a cold Fraulein if you continue to cry like this." Somebody says.

Suddenly, the rain stops pelting me with its slaps and I could sense the presence of a nearby masse of heat.

"Forgot your meds? Ahh… it happens and I understand. Anyways… I've got some with me… here... open wide." The same person says.

Without my permission, my mouth was stretched open by two gentle and still hands before a tablet was dropped into my mouth followed by a mouthful of warm water. Instinctively, I swallowed it all down. Immediately following, the pain in my leg ceased before quickly fading away.

I then slowly open my eyes to take a look at my saviour. I was met with a blonde wearing a white lab-coat and a lanyard that hung her ID tag and other important cards. She held a black umbrella which was shielding the two of us from the rain. I then identify her ass my professor's teaching assistant, Octavia Salieri Manioff, she was a student currently doing an exchange internship from Harvard Medical School. A specialist in the neurosciences and a self-proclaimed "neuro-researcher extraordinaire." She was a nice person, very nice but one would say the exact opposite when you see how cheeky she is online. Additionally she was also an experienced tanker, having been a prime star at Princeton University during her undergrad years. Moreover, she was also an excellent pianist and teacher of that fine instrument, I take private lessons from her every Sunday.

"Come on now, on your feet! The rain is due to get worse in the hour!" Octavia says.

I shake my head, no I didn't want to get up.

"Oh alright, guess I need to carry you then." She says offering me her umbrella which I immediately snatch.

Then, with her strong arms, Octavia heaves me up from the ground and begins to carry me back to my dorm. We get there in a few minutes and she drops me off in my bed before she takes her leave.

Katia

Elsewhere on the campus in Oxford….

"Well lasses… we've got one big problem on our hands." The commander says.

She and her closest subordinates, including me, were examining the map of the location of our first battle for the international tournament, due to commence in three months. Everyone in the room was either stupid or too scared to speak, no one wanted the responsibility of bringing up an idea for a battle plan and run the risk of disgracing herself if it would fail once it was employed.

Unfortunate it was, but in its current state, the Oxford Yeomanry Senshado Division was nothing more but a hollow shell of its former self. After that incident three years ago, the campus's morale and will to participate in anything to do with Senshado had diminished… fatally. Many of the old crews of the division had either left the club, graduated away, or… particularly those who were a part of the Montgomery "M" Company, were still suffering from PTSD from that incident years ago. No one can blame them, under their fire, watching their command tank get blown to bits and tossed into the river down below. Then watch their commander get flung a hundred yards away before she disappears, lifelessly beneath the rapids.

"We were screwed as soon as our name was drawn from the pile." One girl says. "In our current situation… it's really pointless for us to even go onto the battlefield. Sure we've got the tanks and everything but the crews are nothing more but dimwitted brats who really only signed up for the glory of it all. I've run the scans, the majority of them have little to no experience operating tanks before they came the Oxford!"

"Complaining is not going to solve our situation!" The Commander bellows. "Our best option is to get one of our prefects to come back and knock the senses into these fellers, find a way to get the old crews back into their tanks, drill everyone together and that is when we can even dream of winning the upcoming qualifying round."

"We don't have any." Another girl replies.

"Well…well… we'll just go and pull some foreign assets over here!" The commander says, distressed.

"That's unfeasible, there is no way we can possibly train all 480 girls into tip top shape before the qualifying round rolls in." The girl shoots back.

"Alright people, stop giving me the problems of… what we don't have, and what we can't do. Start giving me solutions because it looks like I'm the only person who's thinking here!" The commander yells.

The room was then silent again, seconds pass and no one speaks a word… seconds pass and I feel the need for me to break the awkward silence. I look for random ideas, choose one and speak.

"Uhm… I think we do have one option." I stutter

"Well… spit it out Katia!" The Commander yells at me.

I was startled a bit but soon, I regain my composure.

"We need to bring back Victoria Hastings. I feel like she still has the tanker inside of herself… it's just locked away somewhere and we need to unlock it from its cage. You say that we have a problem with finding a trainer, no problem. Ms. Manioff is a great tanker herself…this brings me to the question…. How didn't you guys notice that she came to our school to do an internship? I mean… she was inducted into the Senshado hall of fame five years ago..." I propose.

The room became silent again, I begin to feel that I overstepped.

"You're mad!" The executive officer bellows at me. "Sure, Vick Hastings, a legend back when she was in her prime three years ago… but its simple logic to not ask someone to go back into something that they swore to never enter again. The option with Ms. Manioff is… at best half witted, yes she may be a little story herself but hey! She's from Harvard… aka our second biggest rival yet?! Then we look more into her roots… Princeton… fucking buggers who stole the Black Princes before we even had a chance to get one example for ourselves."

"No….no… that sound like a charming idea!" The Commander defends me. "Katia… do you think it can work?"

"It's worth a try…" I reply

"IF you say it lass, you do it." The Commander says. "Go, do as you specify. I await your good news… NOW SCAMPER!"

I then hurry off.

"You really think that is going to work?" The exec. asks.

"Doubt it, but I still want to entertain myself by sending the dimwit on a meaningless errand. Anyways…. Let us continue to examine our given situation."

As I run through the stone halls, I run into Ms. Manioff who was waltzing her way through the hallway. From her expression, I could tell that she was judging my college again, she liked to judge… a lot.

"Uhm Ms. Manioff… can I have a moment please?" I ask, employing my cutie-pie voice.

She stares at me abruptly. "Of course, well… spit it out!"

"I was wondering if you can help our Senshado division out." I stutter. "Do you think you can find the time in your timetable?"

"If this is an invitation to join your Senshado Division as an instructor and potentially… player… I would decline for now. Mainly because I don't have my tank with me right here, right now, and even though my crew of five is here. We aren't exactly the people who're willing to retrain ourselves into whatever tank you throw at us. So… unless you somehow find a way to get my tank from its shed in Boston over to here… my position will not change." She replies. "Hopefully that answers all your potential questions and requests. Is there anything else?"

"No... nothing at all!" I reply before bowing my head a little and making my way off. "Thank you for your time."

"Anytime youngling, now… be off to wherever you need to be. Now…Tschüss…" She says before floating off again.

Ms. Manioff wasn't a person who liked long and stretched conversations, she liked keeping them short and to the point. Get the message through and be off, that was how she talked. For the time being, I make the note that as long as I can get her tank over to Oxford, she was a yes to help us.

Victoria

A short while later...

Bck…bck…bck bck…bck!

Who could it be that is knocking my door at this hour? I was doing my homework and suddenly someone knocks at an unexpected time. For a moment I think that it may be Ms. Manioff at the door again but this thought was quickly killed off as I remember that she would always glide herself to the main dining hall and grab an entire tray of scones and custard loaded goodies to bring back to her room.

"Uhm…! Is Ms. Hastings in?" A squeaky voice asks.

I limp over to the door to open it, before me was this girl, a freshman I judge seeing her young look. I then begin to scan her clothing… immediately I recognize that she'd came from the Tankery Division. I do not desire to speak to these people at all, fuck off, leave me alone, I'm finished and I'm not coming back… like I've said over and over again in the past! I decide to slam the door on him, but she wedges her foot into the frame at the last minute.

"Eeek!" She yelps.

"Oh for crying out loud! Get your foot out and be off you bitch! And don't come back ever! I'm finished, I'm not coming back, fuck off and let me live off the rest of my miserable life!" I yell at her.

"Please… hear me out ma'am! This will only take two minutes! I wear, if it doesn't work, fine… No one will come back ever again! Pinky swear!" She whimpers.

"Two minutes, starting now!" I yell, opening to the door.

"Thank you…" She says taking her foot back. "The tankery division needs you back Hastings. We've lost a lot of good players in the past years and…and…. Oxford is no longer how it was back when you and… Commander Mays was around. We've fallen the shambles and now… we're walking on thin ice!"

I roll my eyes, this was going to be another sympathy/guilt thingy attempt to make me rejoin. Out of respect, I say nothing and continue to listen to what she had to say.

"Thin ice I mean…. That the school is going to shut down the Tankery program at Oxford and reallocate the funds elsewhere." Katia informs. "And…and… not everyone wants it to go."

"Well fuck it too! I'm actually going to be very happy to see it go! Listen, child, you don't know how it feels to lose your tank, your closest friends due to an… unfortunate…" I cough violently. "Sorry… a clear and precise murder. You never had a close loved one murdered before your eyes. They had us zeroed in and everything… oh and then they pull the trigger, shell hits… they say sorry and pay compensation… then they celebrate in the background because they've successfully killed the best team in the entire game, the crippled the brain that was behind it all. You…"

"That's enough!" Katia spits into my face. "Where's your honor and wisdom, woman? I cannot believe my eyes, you are Victoria Hastings and now... three years after an incident that was not caused by your faultiness, you're still holding onto the past, forever bombarding yourself with guilt that shouldn't be entitled to you! And is that Rum I see on your desk? Oh my god, you're now a drunkard!"

The girl in front of me then reaches into her pocket and produces a plastic water bottle which she drinks to remoisten her mouth.

"You're a coward, holding onto the past, never letting it go. Drinking yourself into oblivion, refusing to face reality and move on… just what type of person have you become?! I've done the scans, it appears you are also only marginally passing all your courses… while three years ago you were on the Dean's list. Sure the PTSD and stuff but get over it you sticking fool! The past is the past, the present is the present, and the future is just a treasure, a cure waiting for you to open." Katia continues. "With all due respects, ma'am, the past is killing you. You will die in the end and I do not intend to attend your funeral service nor do I think anyone else would be willing to. So in the best interest of everyone who's left in the Tankery Division… do something that won't kill you for once. Additionally, if you can find your courage to drag yourself out of your cowardice, come back to the Division and goddamn help us! We need your help right now and if you don't help us, everything will be lost. Hmm… which I don't think you care about anymore anyways. All in all, do something that makes sense, Coward. Now… I bid you farewell."

Katia then storms off, Victoria, was left wordless.

I walk back into the meeting room and all eyes were turned towards me.

Katia

Back in the meeting room...

"Well, how did it go?" The Commander asks.

"Half-witted as you would say" I reply. "Ms. Manioff has provisionally agreed to help us drill the greenhorns."

"What are her conditions, Katia, tell me now." The exec. demands me.

"Surprisingly her request, is damn simple." I reply. "Just get her tank from Boston to Oxford."

"Done, tell her that will you?" She replies.

"And what of, Ms. Hastings?" The Commander asks, moving onto the next part.

"She's not changing her position." I reply.

"Well, at least your tried to poke the sleeping dragon awake. Heh.. I was surprised you came back in one piece. Anyways, thanks for your effort, Katia" The Commander says.

"No no, anytime!" I instinctively return.

"We still aren't out of the woods yet I'm afraid." The exec says, breaking the victorious feeling of mine. "How we to develop a streamlined training programme and wedge it into all the heartless bastards that we have in our ranks, and possibly prepare everyone for the upcoming battle?! It's impossible."

"Botch off and get out of here you half-witted four eyes!" A voice booms, the exec, infuriated turns towards the direction of those bold words. "You, yeeess you! I'm talking to you four eyes. Fuck off, you're a disgrace, get out of here before I botch your head off!"

Everyone turns towards this person, to my delight and shock, it was Ms. Hastings herself, assisted by Ms. Manioff.

"What did you say you cowards?! Do you know who I am?" The exec. shoots back.

"Yeah, I know who you are. The fucking bitch who almost got me killed four years ago back in Bocage and abandoned her post when she got dinged by a Jagdtiger. Yah you, a fucking coward hiding inside the shell of a bitch. Won't you just fuck off and let me be at peace?!" Hastings bellows again.

"Tavington, fuck off will you?" The Commander orders.

Honestly, I find this quite refreshing and amusing, I myself didn't really like the executive commander, always so too the book and formal. I watch in amusement as she hangs her head and walks out of the meeting room. Then, Ms. Hastings begins to deliver her orders.

"Alright yee all. Brief me on the situation and somebody… get me a beer, and a phone will yah?" She says.

"I think we've got bigger concerns right now Hasty…" The Commander says. "You need a crew and a tank."

"Well… since I just fired your exec. give me her tank… oh and get rid of her bitch crew. I've a few old friends that I haven't called in a long time."

End