Hell On Tracks
Part 20

For me, the rest of the evening was a quiet affair. Kay gave the general announcements, said she would be contacting a few tank crews and adjusting which Company they were placed in, let everyone know about her party back at the ship, and that there were only a few more days until the matches with Maple. After that was dinner with the Bandits, general bragging and regaling the match, and then we went home.

I watched the rest of Kelly's Heroes on the trip home, while Angel napped against her periscope, and Blondie and Tuco chatted about something that I didn't care to listen in on. Then, when we were finally back at the tankery garage, I grabbed my stuff and walked back to my dorm. As I was cleaning myself up for bed, I idly checked my email. Ooh, something from dad!

As much as I wanted to read the letter from my family now, bed was calling. Its sweet siren song was a much stronger lure than the desire to check in on my family. Besides, future me could have something nice for once and read it instead of present me.

Aren't I nice to future me?


The morning came rapidly, and after cleaning myself up and brewing a nice cup of tea to help wake me up, I settled down at my computer and opened up the email from dad.

Dear Tally,

It was very nice to hear from you last week. I'm happy that you are putting your poker skills to good use, and I am certain that my friends will all be happy that you are no longer cleaning them out of their gambling money. Your mom and I would like to discourage any gambling you may be doing in class time, as there are usually more productive things to be doing in that period.

Your mom misses you, as do Marie and Sasha. Your sisters are both doing well in school, and Sasha is having a lot of fun at baseball. She's sad that her awesome big sister isn't there to help at practice, but that hasn't stopped her or any of her teammates from having a good time. Their first game is next week.

A few days ago, your aunt Sophie stopped by and said she wanted to send you something in the care package we're preparing. After some discussion, she and your mom baked biscotti to send you. We'll be sending the care package this weekend, so if there is anything you would like us to send your way, please ask.

Love,
Dad

P.S.

Auntie Nat said she had a new recommendation for you, and that she would send it your way.
-Mom

I smiled, and typed up a quick reply to dad, detailing last night's Sensha-do match, conveniently leaving out my panic attack. I also asked them to send me some more tea, new baseball team sunglasses, and a few other nicknacks that I couldn't get my hands on through the local requisitions.

That sent, I closed my laptop, sipped my tea, and headed out to hang out with Arisa and the other tankers in my dorm.


The common room was pretty light on people this morning. Arisa was sitting in one of the comfy armchairs, sipping at her coffee and otherwise being absolutely dead to the world. A few of the others were in similar states. So, as soon as I realized that most everyone in the room was from Sensha-do, I put on my brightest, fakest smile possible, threw my arms wide and declared a very enthusiastic "Good morning!~"

My morning enthusiasm got a number of grumbles and groans, which was the intended goal. It also managed to attract the direct ire of someone who looked very unhappy with me. As she stalked over, coffee mug in hand, I recognized who she was. Not her name, so much as her position in Tankery and which tank she was in. Loader of Tank Six, which was knocked out due to my mistake in the practice match.

"I've got a bone to pick with you." She growled in surprisingly good English, and I took a step back, raising my hands to try and calm her down.

"I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry! It was an honest mistake, a newbie's mistake! I screwed up and gave bad orders, and you got caught in the middle of that and I'm sorry!" I said, my words devolving into panicked mumblings. A few of the others in the room looked over at the commotion, but most of them were still dead to the world.

"You little- wait, what?" She said, looking very confused.

"I screwed up. I wasn't trying to be a glory hound or screw you over on purpose!" I said, taking another step back.

"Oh." And like that, all of the steam she had built up was gone. "Well, don't make that mistake again, and if you do, make sure you aren't doing so with us. I can't guarantee that the rest of my crew will be as forgiving."

With that, she went back to whomever she had been hanging out with and I let out a heavy sigh of relief. Not willing to deal with any more drama, I quickly found a seat near Arisa, and idly chatted with her loader as we waited for the intel officer to finally wake up.

When Arisa finally became cognizant, her loader gave a quick report about something (I wasn't quite sure what they were talking about, and they talked too fast and too quietly for me to properly listen in), and darted off to class. I spent the rest of the morning chatting with her, and grilling her for information on Maple's Tankery team composition.

For the most part, their team was about as uninspiring as Saunders' own. Ram IIs and Grizzlies, which were both very similar designs to the M4 Sherman. At least the Ram had an interesting design, if heavily inspired by American tank design of the 40's.

With such similar tanks and tank performance, the matches against Maple would be more decided by skill and ability of the crews, rather than by the power of the tanks. Unless Arisa or Naomi brought their heavier guns to the game, but I had doubts of that happening in whichever of the three matches I was going to be in.

Arisa also told me in close confidence that she had heard they had made a few new vehicle purchases, but that she didn't know what those purchases were yet. Probably just more Rams or Grizzlies, but you could never be certain.

I certainly hoped it was something new and interesting. American-designed or inspired tanks were very nice pieces of machinery, but they were all almost the same thing, with only slight differences between the designs. Just look at the dozens of different variants of the M4, and compare it to the number of British or German designs of the war.