Hey there guys! I know this chapter is hitting late again, but I've been really busy over the last few weeks (something that isn't changing any time soon), and I've not really had the time or the motivation to start writing a new chapter. However, I'm still in fighting condition (mostly), and after the Sabaton/Alestorm concert yesterday (27/2) I'm feeling pretty pumped up so I thought I'd get back to work on this story. If you don't know who Alestorm or Sabaton are, you should look them up, they're great, although if you're a history lover and like metal, chances are you probably know who they are already. I also got my masters offer, so it looks like I'm staying in education for a while longer, albeit at a different university.
I've also noted that the poll I've had going for ages on your favourite teams from Wellesley has had very few responses. C'mon, I want to know what you guys want more of, and I can't do that with so few replies! (especially since it's tied)
This chapter is going to be a little bit more light-hearted, a little more relaxed, as I want to build a little more into the different characters that make up my team. There's not going to be much action, so be forewarned, and make sure to check for cavities after reading, since I've tried to make this fluff sickeningly sweet. So let's dive back into the GuP universe for a new chapter.
Chapter Start
Saturday, February 15th – Carrier Dauntless, Wellesley Royal Military Academy – 1100hrs
Having returned to the ship tired from the heat in Port Headland and the long, uncomfortable journey there and back, the cadets who had gone to watch St Gloriana's match had been quickly debriefed by Captain Hart before being dismissed so they could get food and rest. The little group in particular had been looking forward to a lie-in, given that they had the day off today. As a result, a still somewhat sleepy Pearce was making himself a wakeup cup of tea when a knock came at his door. Leaving the kettle brewing, he placed a second cup out on the counter top before going to greet his guest. Knowing that the usual suspect would likely also be asleep, even at this hour of the day, Pearce was nevertheless pleasantly surprised to find Jo on the other side of the door, dressed in civvies – jeans, navy blue blouse and a cream cardigan.
"Good morning."
"Is this a bad time? I can come back in a bit," the comms officer said, noting that Pearce was still in pyjamas and a dressing gown.
"Not at all. If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I will go and make myself presentable. Do come in," Sam answered, beckoning the girl into the dorm room. "Tea? I was just making one myself."
Receiving a nod in return, Pearce took the kettle, now boiled, and poured two cups, one for himself, the other for his guest, and laid them out on the table before vanishing into his bedroom with a quick "take a seat". Jo made herself comfortable, and a short two minutes later Pearce emerged from his room, a plain black fleece and green combats having replaced his sleepwear. He sat down opposite his teammate and took a long draught of his tea, (Earl Grey, the best morning brew,) before addressing Jo.
"So, what did you want to see me about?" he asked. It was unusual for any of his friends to visit him on the weekend, so this was unknown ground for him.
"Since we don't have a match next week, and there aren't any exams going on, I wanted to see if you fancied going for a drink with us or something," Jo said, "I'm going to fetch some of the others on the way. So, are you up for it?" Although Jo sounded cheerful, she wasn't expecting much, so her features didn't betray any hint of disappointment when Pearce's brow furrowed.
"That seems acceptable. I have nothing pressing to do today."
"Well fine, that's no- whaaaaat?" Having fully expected the somewhat anti-social Pearce to pass up the opportunity to spend time with his friends, Jo found herself doing something of a double take. Pearce raised an eyebrow at her flabbergasted expression.
"I said that your idea seems commendable. Did I do something wrong?" Pearce replied, now thoroughly confused.
"Nope, no, definitely not! Now, let's get going," Jo said, half-dragging her teammate to the door before he could change his mind.
"Can I at least put my shoes on first?"
A short few minutes later, Jo having relented to allow Pearce to retrieve necessary items like keys, wallet and, heaven forbid, shoes, the pair departed to the small commercial area of the carrier. As Wellesley was a military academy rather than a public school there were comparatively few civilians living aboard, only enough to maintain facilities and shops, rather than the thriving township that Oarai's carrier had by comparison. Those who were allowed to maintain businesses on the carrier were also strongly vetted to preserve security, and their establishments were mainly confined to a small area usually referred to as 'the logistics hub', although the foot traffic through such a dense area had led others to jokingly label it as Collateral Corner due to the target-rich environment. Sam and Jo made their way there via a circuitous route, picking up the rest of Montgomery team, and a few others, on the way.
"Ara, what are we thinking for food?" Liam asked, suppressing a yawn. "Something sugary sounds good to me, it's too early to be up at time, especially on a Saturday."
The lazy gunner's words seemed to ring more true when one surveyed him, Liam's state of attire suggesting that his friends had indeed dragged him out of bed. A haphazardly thrown-on white t-shirt and scruffy jeans complemented a haircut that seemed styled exclusively by the bed covers, giving Liam that much-coveted 'I just woke up' look.
"Sure, I think we can get cake at one of the cafes," Jo replied, "They make shortbread too if that tempts you."
"A couple dozen of those should be fine."
"Make sure to have a couple of gallons of coffee with it," Chris drawled from the back of their little group, "Got to make sure you definitely don't sleep tonight."
"You must not know Liam that well," Andrew shot back. "It takes nothing less than a bloody bomb going off to wake him up, and he falls asleep at the drop of a hat, caffeine and sugar be damned. It was hard enough to get him to wake up for this, and it's nearly noon!"
"Oi," Liam replied, sounded vaguely indignant, "That's only partially true."
"Oh yeah?"
While the pair broken down into a duel of barbed comments, the rest of the party were chatting amicably among themselves. Chris and Katherine were conversing quietly at the back of the group, whilst Pearce gave Stephen and Jo a rundown of what they'd seen the previous day at the St Gloriana match, before the latter filled him in on what the rest of the team had done in practice. Apparently, with Wellesley in all likelihood facing Kuromorimine in the next round, Captain Hart had acquired some of the original identification charts used for training British tankers, and spent a while detailing to the crews where the weak points on various German tank models were. Jo had also pointed out that it helped increase Montgomery team's knowledge about their own vehicle too, given that it was much the same as Maho's Tiger 212.
"That reminds me," Pearce said, "We should probably go over the Tigerfibel a few times too. It has some useful tips for operating the Tiger in it."
"Tigerfibel?"
"Yes, it's an instruction manual for operating the tank. It's quite…. unique, a lot of pictures and jokes. I think there's a copy of it in one of the storage lockers, but if not we can always get Captain Hart to procure another one for us."
"That might be useful," Stephen agreed, "But enough talking about work, we're here."
The logistics hub was primarily confined to a small courtyard/shopping centre style space, with two levels of shops arrayed around a central square with benches and a few flower beds. As expected, there were quite a few cadets there, it being a calm, sunny Saturday. Skirting round the edge of the square, the group headed for a cosy-looking café with outdoor seating. An eye-catching sign above the entrance named the place as 'Rosy Lee's'. Inside it was surprisingly homely, filled with long trestle tables and oaken chairs, while a hearth, thankfully unlit in this warm weather, dominated one wall. In front of the other a long glass-fronted counter displayed all manner of sweets, while the scent of coffee and cooking meat wafted out of the kitchen.
"Inside or outside?" Chris asked as they approached the threshold.
"I'm thinking in, I like the comfort in there," Andrew said.
"Plus, it might go cold later. I'm feeling nippy now," Katherine added.
"You're always cold though," Chris jested. He cast a look round at the rest of the group, receiving mostly shrugs in response. "But sure, I can go for inside."
The little party followed Wavell team's captain into the café, where he immediately spotted and made a beeline for a table large enough for all of them, with a couple of seats to spare. Liam speedily claimed a spot on the bench along the wall, where he could sprawl out in comfort, leaving the rest of his colleagues to take their own seats before pulling up a menu. The food on offer was hardly a complex affair, mostly just simple entrees and sandwiches, but as an establishment on a military school's ship one would hardly expect refined cuisine. In small groups, the cadets got up and ordered their meals, and eclectic mix of foodstuffs slowly made its way back to the table. As he'd claimed, Liam had stocked up on the shortbread on offer at the counter, at least a dozen fingers of the sweet treat on a plate in front of him, with a massive pot of coffee accompanying. However, it did seem that the massive dose of caffeine and sugar had broken the usually lethargic gunner of his fugue.
Returning to her seat next to Pearce, Jo asked, "So Sam, what did you get?"
Pearce merely raised an eyebrow as the comms officer took in the pot of tea in front of her superior, something that was in and of itself self-explanatory.
"Lapsang Souchong, if you were wondering. And a chicken mayo sandwich to go with it. Yourself?"
"I've got a ham and cheese panini on the way, and some orange juice," Jo replied. "I might be tempted by some of the strawberry tart later though."
"Would you recommend it? I'm not so well-acquainted with this establishment."
"I would say it's nice, but how much do you like strawberry?" Well aware that Pearce did not frequent the logistics hub for much save academic supplies and groceries, Jo had come prepared to answer his queries, amongst other gambits, in order to help coax the Wellesley commander out of his workaholic tendencies.
"I'm not opposed to it."
"Well if I get some later, would you like to try a piece, see if you want a slice of your own?" Jo said, offering a smile to the bespectacled cadet. "You can always pay me back with a piece of yours later."
"That sounds lovely, thank you," Pearce replied gratefully, helping himself to a sip of his fragrant tea. "Are there any other desserts you believe I might like?"
"I don't think anyone can go far wrong with chocolate cake. They do a delicious double-layered gateau here, just take a peek at the far end of the counter."
Craning his neck to one side curiously, Sam spotted the treat in question nestled amongst the other chocolatey puddings on display. A fabulous layer of chocolate fudge preceded three different sets of sponge and chocolate filling, with a decadent few pieces of dark chocolate fondant on top. He licked his lips unconsciously, only to blush in embarrassment when he heard Jo giggle at him.
"So are you having a piece of that later?" Jo asked, a twinkle of mirth discernible in her voice.
"Maybe."
A couple of minutes later, Jo's sandwich arrived, as did a few other items that their colleagues had ordered, and for a short while, comparative silence reigned over the table, broken by a scant few comments and the clatter of cutlery. At length, Pearce stood up and headed to the counter, evidently out of tea and now devoid of sandwich too. Whilst he was occupied with what she guessed was purchasing the chocolate cake she had recommended earlier, Jo was addressed by Chris.
"You know, you've just got to tell me how you did it. It's like pulling teeth to get Pearce to come out with us for anything, specially in public settings. So, go on, share your secrets," said the captain of Wavell team, looking somewhere between amused and genuinely intrigued. Jo shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm not sure I could tell you. I just kinda asked," Jo replied honestly. She was entirely unsure why her normally reserved friend had assented to her invitation, it wasn't as if she'd done anything particularly special. But at least it seemed like he'd been enjoying himself somewhat, if her observations were anything to go by thus far. Jo had initially had some apprehensions when the others present had raised the idea yesterday, since she didn't want to be dragging Sam out for something he didn't want to do. Perhaps she hadn't considered that it was this sort of considerate behaviour that made Pearce trust her in the first place.
"I don't know, it seems like you have a special way with our fearless leader," Chris said, his usual teasing drawl slipping back into place.
"Oh, quit teasing her," Katherine interjected, swatting her boyfriend on the arm. "Maybe the secret is just asking nicely, rather than bugging the person to death like you seem to enjoy. Ever thought of that?"
"But it's more fun that way!" Chris protested.
"For you maybe! Now be quiet and eat your food, you menace."
As the now-chastised captain resumed devouring his meal, a massive bacon sandwich, Pearce returned to the table, another pot of tea in one hand and a hefty slice of cake in the other. He arched an eyebrow at the scene.
"So how long did it take for Chris to start terrorising people once I left the table?"
"About ten seconds," Katherine replied.
"A new record."
"Why are you guys so mean?" Chris wailed, crocodile tears running down his face.
The mock hurt went unanswered as his friends turned back to their food, all apart from Liam, who was slumped in his seat, seemingly comatose despite the massive amount of sugar and caffeine now circulating his system. A few crumbs betrayed that Wellesley's gunner had devoured the entire plate of shortbread. Next to him, Andrew was polishing off what looked to be a sharing platter of various kinds of meat with a side salad and a patently enormous coke, all the while conversing with Stephen about the football league, in which the quiet driver was taking a polite interest. Jo meanwhile had acquired some of the strawberry tart she had mentioned earlier, and was demolishing it with gusto, although had the decency to look embarrassed when Pearce adopted an almost stunned expression at the pace of the dessert's disappearance.
"You have some on your cheek," he pointed out, causing the comms operator to flush slightly before dabbing at her cheek with a napkin. "Wrong one." Eventually Jo got the errant bit of dessert topping, before mumbling a quiet thanks. A pleasant silence reigned between the two for a while, before Pearce spoke.
"You know, Joanna, though I've known you for a while, I don't think I actually know that much about you beyond some of your hobbies. I do hope I'm not being impolite or prying in anyway," the bespectacled cadet said. Jo waved the concern off.
"No, it's no problem at all," she replied, actually quite happy to share. "What would you like to know?"
"Anything you think interesting, really. There's a lot I don't know about you, even with us having been in the same class for more than two years."
"Hmmmm," Jo said as she pondered her response, "Well my birthday is on the 15th of May, I'm from Nottingham originally, and I have two siblings, one brother, one sister, both of whom are older than me. I'm pretty average at maths subjects, as you might have noticed, and my favourite subject was always English Lit. That fill any blanks for ya?" She tilted her head to one side and grinned as she said the last sentence.
"Very helpful, although I feel like that covers the very basics only. Perhaps we can pencil in some detail as well, like what types of music you enjoy, or the books you like reading." Pearce leaned on the table, a look of interest on his face even as he polished off another few spoonfuls of his chocolate cake, before wiping his mouth with the napkin.
"I'm not really sure what my favourite kind of music is," the brunette replied, "You already know I play banjo, it's kind of a thing I picked up from my dad, but I really don't mind most kinds of music, nothing too heavy or outlandish though. As for books, I'm always up for a good novel, preferably fantasy but I'm not overly fussed. To Kill A Mockingbird did stick with me from high school though."
"I can't remember being overly enamoured with it when we studied it in school, although it did have some more profound connotations to it. Of Mice and Men was much the same in that regard, a superb text, but I don't think it suited my preferences."
"Well what sort of books suit you then?" Jo asked. "I can always lend you some if you like, I brought quite a few with me when I moved here."
"I'm not particularly fussy, although I prefer historical-themed works, and usually with a bit of action. I've mostly been reading histories, treatises and technical manuals recently though, for obvious reasons."
Jo racked her memory to determine if she had any books of that kind in her collection. Settling on a suitable candidate a moment later, she smiled.
"Yeah, I reckon I've got some of those. If we drop by mine on the way back, I'll give you a few to try out."
"That would be lovely, thank you."
"Eh, no need to thank me. I've got to give you something in your spare time, you workaholic. I can't just let you sit there slaving away at work all the time."
"I am not a workaholic," Pearce replied primly, only for Jo to mimic him and arch an eyebrow in return. "Much."
"Knowing that you will dispute me no matter how much evidence I present, I'm putting it to a vote," Jo said, "Those who believe Sam is a workaholic raise your hands." Within seconds, not a single digit was left on the table, even as the rest of the group carried on their own conversations. "The motion carries." Pearce affected a perturbed look.
"I am not that bad," he said firmly.
"Oh yes you are," she answered, folding her arms and staring at Pearce. Under the harsh glare of his counterpart, Pearce wilted at little. It was rare to see Jo so firm about anything, and she was downright scary when those usually caring eyes became hardened with purpose. "You can't deny it mister, you spend too much time working."
"You know why I need to keep my grades up."
Jo sighed. There was the obstacle that they just couldn't overcome. The quiet, reclusive part of Pearce's personality could be worked on through patience and kindness, but it was impossible to remove that other element that prevented the boy from engaging more with his fellow cadets; the looming spectre of potential removal from the academy. It was difficult to criticise Sam's work habits since they helped keep him at Wellesley, but Jo was convinced that they were unhealthy – they'd clearly stunted his social growth somewhat.
"C'mon Sam, you've got the highest grades in the class, right next to Angela, surely spending a little bit more time relaxing wouldn't hurt?"
It was an ancient plea by this point, almost certain to acquire either a polite refusal or an evasive excuse.
"That was my purpose in coming out today. I…" Pearce hesitated for a moment, looking somewhat nervous. "I really enjoy spending time with you guys, it's just I don't think I can afford to ever slack off. And if I'm honest…" he only got halfway through the statement before clamming up, unwilling to say any more.
"Look, Sam, if you feel uncomfortable or worried, you can always talk to us. We've said it before, we're here for you if you need it," Jo said, wearing a heartfelt expression, "If you want to finish what you were about to say later, have a cup of tea when we pass mine to pick up those books, and we can chat, just you and me, ok?" In return for the kind words, Jo received one of the most grateful looks she'd ever seen.
"Thank you," Pearce replied quietly.
"Now, would like to try some of the strawberry tart? I left a small slice for you," the comms officer offered with a beaming smile, changing the subject to one more pleasant.
"That would be delightful," her counterpart answered, taking the proffered spoon and swallowing a piece of the tasty treat. "Hmm, quite tart, but still very sweet. Not bad. Although I'm of the opinion the chocolate cake is still more delightful, see for yourself." Pearce offered a spoonful of his sugary dessert to his bubbly teammate, who took it graciously.
"Mmm, that is good. The tart was still better though."
"That is absurd. Clearly the cake is superior."
"Nope! The tart was far better."
"Oh my dear misguided Joanna, how wrong you are…" Pearce scoffed, earning him a serious look from his counterpart. However, before she could offer a retort, a new person entered the conversation.
"Oh, what have we got here? Lover's tiff?" a voice interjected. Both Jo and Pearce turned to glare at Chris, who had a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
"Be quiet."
"Shut up."
"My friends are so mean!" Chris wailed, more fake tears streaming forth in mock hurt.
Taylor's fake crying was cut short by Katherine giving him another smack on the arm and a stern look, the mere sight of which had him sat ramrod-straight in his seat, hands one over the other on his lap, gazing straight ahead.
"Well now Chris has interrupted your conversation anyway, I feel it is best to ask if you guys are ready to go or not," Katherine said, "Unless you want more cake," she added with a smile.
"No, I think we're done here," Jo answered, looking around and receiving affirmations from all of the other cadets at the table, "Shall we adjourn to the park or something?"
"How about a wander round the ship?" Andrew suggested. "I want to stretch my legs."
"Sure."
"Cool."
With a clear consensus established, the gaggle of friends left their seats at the café, and headed out into the pleasant sunshine that filtered through the layer of cloud that had previously blanketed the sky. It was there that they spotted Clinton team, and a couple of cadets they recognised from other classes, sat at the outside tables. Since the pair were lads, they guessed that they might be Sean's friends
"Hey there!" Alice chirped, giving the other cadets a cheery wave. "Fancy seeing you guys here!"
"Same to you," Katherine replied, "I'm surprised we didn't spot you come inside to order, if we had we would have invited you to sit with us."
"Eh, no sweat," the boisterous gunner said, before smacking her forehead as if she'd forgotten something, "Oh yeah, these two lads, who you may or may not recognise are on the operational intelligence course. There's Alan," she pointed to a tall lad with severely cropped hair and a mousy moustache, "And Louis." This time Alice indicated a waifish lad with blonde hair and quite the androgynous look about him. Both of the boys nodded a greeting. "Anyway, where are ya off to now?"
"Just a walk round the ship."
"Ooh, sounds nice, especially since the weather's turning nice again. We'll not keep you then."
"Sure, see you later then," Katherine offered, before addressing the two new faces. "Nice to meet you two as well."
The little group of cadets were just weaving their way out of the labyrinth of seating when they heard a shout back from where Clinton team were sitting.
"Oh, and Katherine, Chris, don't forget, band practice is on this evening at seven, the usual place!"
Katherine spun on the spot and raised her hand to give a thumbs up, before continuing on her way. It did not take for her friends to raise questions on the topic.
"So how is your little band going?" Andrew asked, as they began to make their way towards the shopping area's exit. "Learnt anything cool yet?"
"We've been experimenting with different sounds and ideas, but we're in a bit of a rut at the moment because we have no bass player to lay a rhythm down for us." Their band had most of the ingredients needed for a good sound; two guitarists in Sean and Caitlin, a vocalist in Alice, a keyboardist in Katherine, Chris on the drums, and Rosie writing their music, but there was just that one key component missing. "We're actually thinking of putting something up on the message boards to see if there's anyone in the academy that wants to join us."
"Bummer," the loader said. "Well, you'll probably find someone who can play bass, we're a pretty large school, so the odds are relatively good."
"Yeah, I suppose."
The group had just reached the edge of the Logistics Hub when a loud crash and the tinkling of breaking glass grabbed their attention. All eyes were cast at the source of the noise, where a great deal of raucous shouting and thuds could be heard, a homely-looking stone building with a sign over the door, depicting a caricatured redcoat in huge boots, that said 'The Wellington'. The object that had caused the crash, an ale tankard, sailed out of the window and rolled to a stop by Liam's boot.
"Oh good, it seems they're back at it again," Chris drawled.
"Hmmm?" Pearce said. "Is this a frequent occurrence?"
"Well there's only a few bars at this academy, and this is pretty much the cheapest pub of them, so it's always packed. But the navy lads that help run the ship go here too, so it's rare to see a week go by without some kinda brawl, y'know what inter-service rivalry is like. This one seems a little more… involved that most of the others though."
Chris would have elaborated further, but a few more assorted projectiles came sailing through the windows, a few shards of glass with them, one of which nicked Andrew's cheek before clattering to the ground.
"Shitting buggering hell!" the afflicted man cursed, clasping a hand to his cheek, which had a couple of trails of blood now running down it. "That stings."
Another projectile soon came flying out of the pub, albeit a rather larger one, through the door this time. It was Connor, the communicator for Russell team, and like his peers he had shed his uniform for civvies, in Connor's case a rugby shirt, which had a conspicuous but small red stain on the shoulder. The lad eventually came sprawling to a stop about five yards from the door, an impressive throw by anyone's standards. Stephen went and picked him up by his collar and set him back on his feet, to which the comms officer offered a quick thanks. Just as he was about to go back in and carry on, Connor was addressed by Pearce.
"Mr MacNeill, would you mind explaining what is going on in there?" he enquired politely.
"Well as it turns out a lot of the Navy lads, being based in Plymouth and all, quite like the Exeter Chiefs, and they're playing the Saracens today. A few drinks were had on each side, and then a couple of bantering comments were made, and then," Connor gestured to the pub, "this happened."
"So who's fighting who at the moment?"
"It's a bit of a free-for-all really, but it was originally our lads, the rugby team, and a dozen or so of the navy lads, but the collateral damage dragged more people in. There's maybe forty or so all told in there I'd reckon, although more than a few were laid out before…"
"You were laid out?"
"Yeah. Now if you don't mind, I'll be getting back in there."
As Connor disappeared back into the dingy depths of the pub, Pearce glanced at his comrades in order to gauge their opinion on a course of action. Chris raised an eyebrow in response as his bespectacled CO looked at each person in turn.
"You thinking you want to go in there? Maybe knock some sense into a few idiots?" the laidback cadet drawled. Pearce pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.
"Although it's a tempting thought, as we could ensure our teammates remain uninjured, it also exposes all of us to danger too, and I don't believe that it would be worth it. I would imagine that there's also a strong chance with it getting out of hand like this that we'll see the MPs down here sooner rather than later."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. Well then, no sense in waiting about here then."
The group carried on on their route out of the shopping area, and had made it about 50 yards before the grumbling of engines heralded the arrival of two APCs on the nearby road, followed by a pair of trucks. The little convoy ground to a stop directly next to the pub, the access hatches slamming open, before two sections of black-uniformed troopers with red berets disembarked, carrying batons and holstered sidearms. They formed up quickly and disappeared into the establishment, where the sound of fighting came to a stop within minutes. As the septet looked on, the troopers reappeared, escorting groups of dishevelled cadets, both army and navy, out from the Wellington. The gaggle of subdued brawlers included the lads from Russell team, who were placed with their mates, all of whom were wearing rugby shirts too.
"It's a good job we didn't go in there after all," Liam remarked, "Or we'd be being dragged out by the military police too. I don't particularly fancy wasting my afternoon getting a talking to from them."
"Well at least from the looks of it nobody got badly injured," Katherine said, "So I guess we're not going to be down any crew members going into the semi-finals."
The captured cadets were rapidly loaded into the back of the two trucks, before the entire convoy got underway again, vanishing as swiftly as they'd arrived. Such was the nature of discipline at the academy, lax for relatively minor infractions, swift and uncompromising for larger disturbances. There was no regular police force preserving order, not with so small a civilian population, so the task of peacekeeping fell to the Royal Military Police, of which there was a detachment stationed aboard, and the academy provosts, who dealt with cadet infractions specifically. Now the RMP had hauled the offenders away, they would be separated according to their branch and dealt with accordingly by their own disciplinary officers.
Once the column was out of sight, the gaggle of friends got moving once more, actually making it out of the shopping quarter without incident this time. They headed towards the starboard side of the ship, aiming to start their walk there and then make their way around the outer edge of the carrier, from where they could view the sea.
"You know, when I see the sea, it just relaxes me. I could fall asleep out here no problem if it were a nice warm day," Liam commented.
"Where can't you fall asleep?" Andrew jested.
"Anywhere you keep running your mouth."
"Why didn't you join the naval cadets if you like the sea so much?" Chris asked.
"Have you seen the size of the bunks they have on-board most ships? They're freaking tiny. I'd much prefer my own bed, so much more comfy." Somehow all of Liam's friends knew that sleeping arrangements would factor into his answer. "There's also the fact that holidays are better here, and it offered a curriculum that more suited my interests."
"You said something about triage qualifications the other day," Katherine chipped in, "How's that going for you?"
"Not too bad, I'm nearly qualified for basic anyway. You have to wait until seniors to go into any advanced field medicine so it's a start."
"Let's just hope you don't have to patch any of us up soon," Chris joked.
The group continued their wandering, following the outer rail all the way around the ship, the area around which was kept as a green space, lined with trees and neatly kept flowerbeds. It was a pleasant walk as the sun slowly reached its zenith, providing a nice warmth to the day despite a few lingering clouds.
"Oi, Sam, I've just remembered something, you owe me a chess match, remember?" Liam said. Pearce looked at the gunner quizzically.
"Do I?"
"Yeah yeah, it was back near the start of term and you said that you'd play a match against me at some point."
"If you say so. Now though?" Liam swatted Pearce's arm.
"No, not now. What, were you expecting me to magically put a chess set out of my jacket or something?"
"Given your propensity for hiding snacks and energy drinks in your uniform, I would not have put it past you," Pearce replied dryly.
"What? Me? Never," Liam said, with heavy sarcasm. "Oh how your accusations wound me so."
"They might wound you a little less if you didn't have the top of that cookie packet glaring over the lip of your coat pocket." Pearce indicated the colourful red wrapper sticking out from Liam's right-hand pocket. Liam plucked the offending item out from the depths of his coat, and helped himself to one, reminded of the biscuits' presence. He then offered the packet to his comrades, who waved off the offer.
"Let's be honest, without him carrying sugar all the time, we'd find him asleep in his gunner's seat," Jo joked.
"I don't think Andrew would have any problem waking him up for us, eh Andrew?" said Pearce. The statement sounded more like a threat than a harmless comment, especially with the devilish grin Andrew was now sporting, which promised pain. Liam gulped.
"Now boys, don't terrify him too much," Katherine interjected, "Or his hand will be shaking all over the place in the next match and he won't hit anything."
"Awww," Andrew said.
"Anyway," Pearce cut in, "We'll have that chess match after the next training session, is that acceptable?"
"Sure," Liam drawled, "Your place or mine?"
"You may as well come to mine," the Wellesley commander said, "If the rest of you wish to come around for a meal, that is also fine." The offer caught the others a little flatfooted, as it was the first such offer that Pearce had made. Any visits made to the bespectacled cadet's dormitory were often short-lived or perfunctory, rather than congenial. It was Chris that recovered first, offering his friend a toothy grin.
"Sounds pretty great to me! Even more so that we don't have to go round Liam's, you can barely see the floor in there for the mess."
"Like you have any room to talk," Katherine shot back caustically. It was a bit of a bugbear between the couple that neither of the pair liked the other's habits towards cleaning. Katherine, like with many things, verged on the compulsive with her cleaning, and there was nary a speck of dust out of place in her dorm, whilst Chris was a little more… lax. It would not be a rare occasion to find the odd sock on the kitchen counter in Chris's room, although mercifully he was somewhat less relaxed about his laundry regime.
"I'll have you know that I cleaned everything the other day," Chris sniffed.
"So the mess is just in your bedroom now, rather than everywhere?"
"Err…"
"I'll take that as a yes."
"Moving on," Chris said hastily, before adopting a bit of a mischievous expression. "So Sam, how are you and Angie doing? I know you've been spending a lot of time with each other."
"We are getting along just fine thank you," Pearce replied neutrally. "Nor should it surprise you that we spend a great deal of time in each other's company, Angela is my second-in-command. The only person in this group who has been spending an odd amount of time in someone's company is Andrew."
The others gaped, while Andrew flushed a vibrant red. Soon, five sets of eyes homed in on him expectantly. The loader shrank in on himself, wishing he could just disappear from the inevitable embarrassment this conversation would cause him.
"Well then Andrew, care ta spill for us?" Chris grinned. This was going to be good teasing material for later.
"I don't know what he's talking about," Andrew stammered, although his denial was entirely unconvincing.
"So Sam's just making it up is he?"
"Now that's not what I said," the loader denied frantically, looking more and more like a deer in the headlights as he glanced over at Pearce, who merely raised an eyebrow at him, although there was a clear hint of amusement about Andrew's diminutive friend.
"So which is it? Do tell," Liam said, getting in on the teasing with Chris.
"Um, um, um, I, err, kinda, havebeenspendingabitmoretimewithSarah!" Andrew shouted, panicking a little under the pressure of his friends' gazes. Chris and Liam looked at each other with confused expressions.
"Um, slower please."
"Well," Andrew said, calming himself somewhat, "I've been spending some time with Sarah, y'know, the loader from Hobart team, and we get along really well."
"Oh," Chris said, a cheeky grin spreading across his face again, "I see. Care to share some of the juicy details?"
While Andrew cringed under the relentless barrage of teasing from Liam and Chris, Katherine turned to Pearce, a curious look on her face.
"How did you know Andrew had something going with Sarah?"
"Elliot."
"Ah."
The little group spent much of the next few hours just enjoying their stroll, making small talk and discussing anything other than work. Sometimes life at the academy could just get a bit too onerous, as the workload and schedule were quite demanding. With tankery on top of their usual studies, and a match to prepare for almost every week, it was nice to have a day off and just relax. And that they did, wandering through the pleasant green belt that encircled the Dauntless' outer perimeter. With the sun up and the warmth of the day tolerable, it was unsurprising that many cadets had the same idea, and the route was positively bustling with their peers, some cycling, a few others walking about, and some just chilling on the grass. Every so often a cooling breeze rolled in from the ocean around them. Eventually the septet chanced upon an ice cream parlour, set just in from the green belt. Run by the academy authorities, it was one of the few stores not confined to the Logistics Hub, as it had been realised it would be terribly inconvenient for every single amenity at Wellesley to be restricted to one area.
"Anyone fancy a cone?" Chris offered. "It's a nice day after all."
"I could murder a chocolate double scoop," Andrew said.
As they opened the door to the parlour, a small bell above the door tinkled to herald their entry. The little shop's interior was set up in a smooth American diner style, comfy booth tables with high-backed red leather seats, a chrome counter and blue and white tiled floors. A cheerful redhead was the first staff member behind the counter to look up, and offered a beaming smile to the prospective customers.
"Hi there, and welcome to Cone with the Wind! I'm Abigail, I'll be your server for today. First things first, would you like to sit-in or take-out?" One quick discussion later gave the gaggle of friends their answer.
"We'll sit-in please." Katherine was set on a sundae, so sit-in it was.
"No problem, right this way."
Stepping out from behind the counter, Abigail escorted them to a wider empty booth towards one end of the shop, before offering them a plethora of menus, fanning them out like a Vegas card dealer.
"We've got our standard options here, special sundaes here, and other refreshments are on the back. I'll just leave you for a minute so you can decide on what you want." She waltzed off with a cheery hum, whilst the cadets chose an icy treat from the menu. It took a few minutes, as the parlour actually had quite the selection, but eventually Abigail reappeared for them to order.
"Ready to order?"
"Yes," Katherine replied, "We'll have two fudge sundaes, three double scoops with sprinkles, one strawberry, one chocolate, one vanilla, a banana split and a knickerbocker glory."
"Of course, no problem, I'll be right back with those."
The redhead collected the group's menus and vanished behind the counter to get their ice cream, humming cheerfully as she did so. As she did so, the little group carried on with the conversation they'd been having before they walked in.
"Look Stephen, Alexander the Great was not the greatest general in history," Andrew insisted, "That title belongs to Hannibal Barca. Study their campaigns side by side and the difference in skill is obvious."
"Both of your arguments have merits," Chris interjected, "Alexander did conquer at great speeds and suffered almost no setbacks despite being outnumbered heavily in a vast majority of his battles, but equally his army was far better trained by comparison than the enemies he faced. Hannibal on the other hand took a ragtag force of mercenaries and barbarians across the Alps against some of the best trained troops in the world, but ultimately lost. Either way you're both wrong, because Gustavus Adolphus was the best general."
With that, Chris sat back in his seat, revelling in the results of him winding Andrew up with a shit-eating grin on his face, a furious tirade directed at him by Montgomery's loader. Stephen was not so easily wound up though, so neglected to join in.
Watching the drama unfold at the other end of the table, Jo glanced at Pearce, who had decided not to weigh in on the argument, although she was certain that he might have wanted to say something. Instead, Wellesley's commander was looking at the café's wall-mounted TV.
"Hey Sam, whatcha looking at? Is there something interesting on?" Pearce shook his head.
"No, but it seems there is an item on tankery coming up, which concerns me, because if it is news-worthy it might be something important."
Jo shuffled round a little bit so she could also get a view of the TV, just as Abigail arrived with the group's ice creams. Just as she was picking up her serving tray to leave, Pearce asked "Miss Abigail, would it be too much trouble for you to put the sound on on the TV? I would like to listen to the next few pieces of news if that's no bother." Abigail beamed.
"Of course, no problem at all. Just give me a holler when you've heard what you need to, the manager doesn't like the sound on for too long." She vanished behind the counter again, reappearing with a remote before unmuting the sound on the TV. The waitress offered a final beaming grin before moving on to serve some other patrons, while Pearce turned his attention to the news. It didn't take too long for the newsreader, a dark-skinned gentleman with greying hair and a well-cut suit, to move onto the piece of interest.
"And now for some interesting news from the world of tankery. As the tournament has shifted into its semi-final stages the governing board has announced that it will not be doing its usual two semi-final matches, but instead having a one-off tag team semi-final. Following a random draw, Oarai, the reigning champions, will be paired with Wellesley Royal Military Academy, one of the four visiting military schools, whilst former champions Kuromorimine will be teamed with Bradley Military Academy. This follows on from the opening stages of the tournament, where low seeded teams were paired up in order to increase the competition, and make room for four foreign teams in what has proven to be a major shakeup for this league. We will have more about this story at 6pm."
As soon as the story finished, Abigail flicked the TV onto mute again, and you could have heard a pin drop in the café. None of the cadets spoke for a minute, although some of them exchanged nervous looks. Casting a look in Sam's direction, Jo noticed that Pearce had zoned out completely, obviously already thinking about the implications that this news might have for the rest of the tournament. When he eventually did look back at her, Pearce only offered a half-smile that totally failed to convince the cheerful comms officers that he was not troubled. In fact, running through Sam's mind at the point were several connected thoughts, all of which troubled him greatly.
Few words were exchanged while the cadets finished their ice creams, the treats tasting somewhat less sweet in light of the fresh worries the news had given them. They paid up and left just as the hour hit three o'clock, a rising chill beginning to displace the heat of the day. As they wandered back towards the accommodation blocks, Chris was the first to break the pall of silence that surrounded the group.
"Ya know, today's been pretty great I'd say. I've had some sweet food, enjoyed the nice weather and got to spend some time with some of my favourite people in the world. All in all, not too bad in my opinion, and I hope for many more occasions like this in the future."
"I second that," Andrew piped up, "We need to do this more often."
"I would also like that," Sam added. "I want to spend more time with all of you in the future, as I should have from the start."
The group continued on their way in a loose formation, the silence that had lingered over their party now dispelled and a bit of chatter flowing here and there. Chris dropped back to walk next to Sam, and spoke to him in a low voice.
"Dude, if you're troubled at all, my door is always open. Metaphorically at least. I'm pretty sure everyone else here would say that too. We care about ya man, don't wear the weight of the world on your shoulders when there's friends about ya and all." He offered his hand to Pearce, who smacked his own palm into Chris's, a look of determination and gratitude in his eyes.
"I appreciate it, and will gladly reciprocate if you need it."
Eventually the little gaggle of cadets began to go their separate ways as they passed their different dorms, departing from each other with cheery waves. The last pair to leave were Katherine and Chris, who were heading back to Katherine's dorm for their usual dinner together. Cut down to two, Pearce and Jo headed back to their block. First stop was Jo's to pick up those books she'd offered earlier. The cheery comms officer fumbled the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, wiping her feet on the mat on the way in before finding the light switch.
"Come on in! Sorry about the mess."
Pearce followed his friend through the door, removing his shoes on the mat and closing the door before taking in the scene before him. Jo's room was… colourful to say the least, or at least the variety of homely items decorating the furniture were. A variety of books on all topics were splayed across the table, as well as sheets of paper, some of which had begun to decorate the floor after a gust of wind picked them up. Retrieving one such sheet of paper from next to his feet, Sam looked at it closely.
"Is this… us?" he asked, a confused expression crossing his face. In response to the question, Jo reappeared from the bedroom area, where she'd been gathering the book she was going to lend, and padded over to where Pearce was standing.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "You weren't supposed to see that, it wasn't finished yet!" The brunette hastily snatched away the sheet, which displayed the five members of Monty team, rendered in a manga style, stood in front of their Tiger tank. She hurriedly stashed the piece in her bedroom before reappearing with a mock-serious expression. "Just forget you saw that."
"Saw what?" Although said with a straight face, the statement was clearly a blatant lie, and Pearce was unlikely to forget the picture in a hurry. It was quite heart-warming that Jo thought enough of her teammates that she would sketch them all together.
"Good." Jo handed over a quartet of books to Pearce. "If these books are to your taste, I've got a few others by the same author. The bookstore has others too, so if you fancy a trip down, just holler ok?"
"I will, thank you Joanna." Pearce set the books down on the table and looked his friend in the eyes. "You know when I said earlier about wanting to spend more time with you guys but work being a constant worry in the back of my mind? Well there's something else to it as well." His face betrayed the trepidation which he felt about talking about this.
"What is it? You can tell me," Jo said earnestly.
"Well I worry a lot that all of you, you, Chris, Katherine, Andrew, everyone, just allow me to hang around with you out of pity. I can't see how any of you would want to spend time with me, I'm nothing special, I'm not easy to talk to, I've no interesting hobbies going for me, I'm not charismatic. Why on earth would anyone want to waste their hours putting up with me?" Pearce's voice began to waver as he finished speaking, his eyes visibly beginning to water. It was a doubt that had plagued him constantly for quite some time by this point, but verbalising it only made the hurt worse as it gnawed away at him.
"Sam…" Jo started to speak, her voice betraying the hurt she felt on her friend's behalf, before she wrapped her friend in a comforting hug as his breath began to hitch. "I promise you, none of us are sticking around you out of pity. Everyone is their own worst critic, and most people wonder this at some point in their life, some of them frequently. And you do have plenty going for you too; you're smart, can be quite witty, and you've got a good heart, even if you don't always listen to it. I could carry on, but you know it deep down that you're pretty great, otherwise we wouldn't be friends with you." It took a little while for Pearce to get a hold of himself and break the embrace. He stared into Jo's eyes for a second before pulling her into another hug.
"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're so patient with me, even when I keep messing up or breaking down. I owe you more than you know."
"I'm not-" Jo made to give a humble reply, but was hushed by Pearce.
"Don't deny it. You are very special, both to me and in general. Thank you for being my friend, Joanna." There was no hint of exaggeration in Pearce's voice, nor any doubt in his mind.
The two broke apart, and nothing was said between them for a short while. Eventually Jo smiled widely.
"Did you get all of that out of your system?" she joked, playfully nudging Pearce with an elbow.
"Yes, thank you. I feel a lot better now."
"No problem, I'm always happy to help."
"I know you are, and it's one of your many virtues." Jo coloured slightly, looking a bit bashful. As she did so, Pearce collected his shoes from the mat, and began to lace them back up. "I think I shall take my leave now, if that's okay, I've taken up more than enough of your time by this point."
"It's been no trouble at all," the comms officer replied.
Pearce finished knotting his laces before collecting the books he'd left on the table. He hesitated before walking to the door, as if he had some other thoughts on his mind, but decided to save those for later discussion. Instead, he opened the door before offering Jo a smile in return.
"Thank you for the books, I will return them post-haste. And thank you for everything else too. I'll see you tomorrow, Joanna."
"You're welcome, Sam, and I will see you then."
1800hrs
Pearce had returned to his dorm swiftly, his feet gliding as if an enormous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. After placing the books Jo had lent him on his desk, he had collapsed onto his bed like a puppet with the strings cut, thoroughly exhausted despite the limited excitement the day had held, before dozing off into a light snooze. He woke groggily two hours later to the sound of his phone vibrating on the side table. Pearce glanced to his left, where a message light blinked on the device, before rolling over and picking it up. It was an old phone, its black case battered, with a slide-out keyboard that Pearce preferred due to its convenience. Unlocking it, Pearce rolled back over to check his messages. There was one from Chris which had arrived a few hours ago, probably just as they'd left, filled with smileys and a joke that faintly amused Pearce.
However, there were a few other messages that caught the cadet's attention. Firstly, there were several messages from an unknown number, although checking the first one revealed it was Angela, who had apparently been supplied with (or more likely, demanded) his number from Chris. She wanted to know if he'd seen the news, and what their course of action was. There were then a trio of messages over several intervals of time in which she got increasingly frustrated at the lack of reply. Hoping he wouldn't get chewed out for his late response later, Pearce tapped out a reply.
"Sorry I missed your message, I wasn't in at the time. I see the news report though. Want to meet tomorrow to discuss?"
After he tapped send, Pearce rolled out of bed into a sitting position, contemplating what these developments would mean for himself, and his team. Although they were paired with the champions of the last tournament, Oarai were still, in material terms at least, to be considered underdogs, while the two teams they faced possessed a material superiority that was only amplified when combined. As a result it would be an uphill struggle. Added to this was the quantity of working with allies. Could the cadets work with the Oarai girls? How well would Bradley and Kuromorimine function together? There were too many variables to nail down right this moment. On top of that, there was also the personal aspect of this teaming up. Could he work with Oarai, with Miho, or Yukari, or Erwin? It troubled him greatly.
Pearce was only stirred out of these thoughts by the sound of a reply arriving, a simple 'fine, where?', accompanied by a snarky 'answer your phone next time'. He smirked to himself. It was entertaining to get under Angie's skin at times. He tapped out another message swiftly.
"Ice cream parlour, port side of the carrier, called Cone with the Wind. Meet at 3?"
A reply returned a minute later with a simple 'ok', causing Pearce to smile briefly. He then checked the last unopened message, one he was far more hesitant to open.
It was from his mother.
Scanning the message briefly, Pearce pressed dial for the first conversation that he had had with his mother in months.
Chapter end
Omake – The Price of Impetuosity
"You thinking you want to go in there? Maybe knock some sense into a few idiots?" the laidback cadet drawled. Pearce pondered the idea for a moment before grinning ferally in a most uncharacteristic manner.
"Damn right I do! Let's go in there and knock a few heads together," he said, rolling up his sleeves before ploughing into the pub with nary a backwards glance to check if his friends had followed him.
"Wow. I did not expect that," Stephen said.
The others just stared at each other for a few seconds, before releasing their own battlecries and charging into the fray. An hour later they would all be found, detained with the rest of the pubgoers by the military police, all of them sporting various scuffs and scrapes, but also massive grins. Even as their punishment was detailed to them by the provosts, Pearce leaned over to Chris and whispered, "Totally worth it."
Omake End
There we go! Another chapter completed. It's taken me a while, but I'm still trying to keep to one a month. This one was born of my desire to get more characterisation and interaction in rather than focusing on the tanks and the combat. You'll see more of these as the next match is some time away for the cast, and I want all of the OCs that I've planted in to not only grow as characters, but establish bonds with each other and have their own fleshed-out motivations and such.
Chapters will likely not be forthcoming for the months of April and May most likely, as my finals will be going on. Even now I'm halfway through my 'Easter Break' which is basically time for me to revise my dissertation into its final form. Once I get back I then have a long-term open exam, a closed exam and then another open exam that will take me to basically the end of May. Once those are done I'll be free to write once more, and have three months over summer to do so, in which I hope to basically get this story into its closing phases (although don't count on too much, Hearts of Iron 4 is coming out on D-Day :P, and I plan to have quite a few hours logged in it). If I have time over the exam season though I will be writing to try and get some ideas down, but it will be at a far slower pace than usual (not that I'm normally good at keeping deadlines).
As always I would love to hear your feedback, any ideas you have or any questions you have, feel free to PM me, drop a review, all that sort of stuff.
Until next time,
HereticalShinigami