Saturday, April 20th 2013
Norfolk, Virginia
Old Dominion High School
Two girls decked out in woodland-camouflaged uniforms were alone, walking in a large garage, with each of their footsteps producing loud echos throughout the building. The vehicles stored within were all parked in an orderly fashion. One of the girls was a wavy blonde, walking with a determined step. Her companion followed meekly right behind, a shorter girl with short brown curly hair. The curly-haired girl had a clipboard in hand, writing down whatever the blonde girl told her to write.
"For our upcoming match, I want as much of our heavy-caliber vehicles in play." the blonde said.
The girl fidgeted with her pen.
"Of course. Let's see…I've written down two IS-2s, five Shermans with the 105mm howitzer, and three STuH 42 Gs." she reported with a Southern drawl.
"Good. And I want that one in the match too!" the blond ordered, pointing at a Churchill.
The curly-haired girl felt a wave of apprehension.
"You…want the Churchill AVRE? Geez, Cassandra, don't you think we already have enough firepower? Not to mention that the AVRE's mortar has a maximum range of two hundred and ten meters. Maximum range! You also got to consider all the other tanks locked in to be in the match too, so, what we have is enough."
"Ellie…Ellie…since when were you the one making decisions?" Cassandra said sternly.
"I…I, uh…"
"Are you in charge around here?"
"Um…"
"Are you!?"
"N-no…I'm not" Ellie responded quietly.
"That's what I thought. I'm just making sure you understand your place in this team. You follow orders from either me or the captain. The only shred of god-damn authority you have around here is with your own crew and you better be thankful because it was me who made you the commander of the Panzer III."
"I'm…I'm thankful…always."
"Good. And now, I'm ORDERING you to put the Churchill AVRE on the list. God help you if I don't see the damn thing at the starting area in Montana."
"It'll be there! It'll be there! I'll make sure of it!"
"It better. There's a lot at stake with this match. Not only is it the quarter-finals of the tournament, but the very sanctity of tankery is at risk. If those boys from Mojave Rose are allowed to proceed in the competition, then this sport is irreparably ruined. Already did they inflict serious damage by getting this far, so it is up to us to save the sport."
"Wait, are all the vehicles on this list just to combat their IS-3? Ellie asked worryingly.
"Yes. It's not enough to just knock-out the IS-3. It needs to be so thoroughly destroyed to the point where Mojave Rose will have no choice but to scrap the thing."
"But, even one well-placed shot from the AVRE's mortar won't do the damage you want to happen."
"Then we all just keep firing until our barrels glow red. Maybe…those boys get hurt in the process…oh well sucks to be them."
Ellie was astonished.
"You…we can't shoot at a knocked-out tank! It's against the rules!"
"And males shouldn't be in tankery but here we are. I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to get them out of this sport."
Ellie felt incredibly uneasy about the situation. Ever since Cassandra has learned about Mojave Rose being a coed team, she had talked incessantly about them and how they needed to be annihilated in their match. She, and a few other like-minded commanders, have convinced themselves that they are on some sort of crusade to protect tankery. Ellie was dragged into, not only because she was a commander herself, but also because she and Cassandra were 'friends'. Though their relationship was totally lopsided. Cassandra essentially dictates what Ellie does, with any of her own decisions and suggestions belittled with Cassandra always saying that she has her 'best interests in heart'.
"Your idea for the essay is stupid. My idea, though, will guarantee you an 'A'. You do want to pass this class, do you?"
"God, a garbage bag is more appeal than your 'dress'. No one will even look at you. Here, this dress I found is just perfect for you."
"Your make-up is great…for a clown. You should really let me do your make-up for you, you obviously have no idea what you're doing. What? I just want my friend to look pretty."
"Ugh! Stop saying 'y'all'! Stop saying 'might could'! You can't do anything about your accent but you CAN speak proper English. Don't make people think you're trailer-park trash. I'm helping you out here."
When Ellie first transferred to Old Dominion High School from Alabama, she had no friends and found making them akin to a Herculean task as she was painfully shy and low on self-esteem. Then one day, Cassandra found her, eating alone during lunch and decided to 'take her in'. She was so nice at first but as time went on, her more angry and hateful nature would increasingly crop up. Now, Ellie had never seen her furious. It was clear to her that Cassandra had a hateful obsession with Mojave Rose but would never dare bring that up. The absolute last thing in the world she wanted was her rage directed at her. Yet, as terrified was her of Cassandra's fury, she was as equally desperate for her praise.
Port of Long Beach
Catalina School of the Arts Carrier
"Administration wants to speak with you." Alice informed.
Madison moaned loudly in her pillow.
"Ugh! On a weekend?" she complained
"It's about your offer."
Madison quickly leapt out of her bed and slipped on some shoes.
"Well then! Let's not keep them waiting!"
The pair left the dormitories and walked to the administrative area of the school. Where they were on the ship made it so they couldn't see the ocean that their vessel sailed upon but the constant squawking of the seagulls and the smell of sea spray made everyone know that the sea was always with them. The route to the administration building was a route that Madison has taken so many times before she could do walk there perfectly blindfolded. Upon arriving and walking through the door, the pair were presented with a long table filled with the school's chief administrators. Alice stood to the side while Madison stepped forward.
"Hello Madison, you seem keen on making this semester a record on the most visitations to administration by a single student."
"Well, what can I say? I gotta beat my record for last semester. And I just love meeting the people that make this school function." Madison sarcastically remarked.
"Oh, I'm sure. You do know why you're here this time around, yes?"
"I do indeed. About my offer."
"Yes, your offer. We've all been pondering about it for some time now and we came real close to just discarding it…yet some of us are still unsure."
"Mostly, why should this school bother? We don't operate a tankery team nor do we plan to in the foreseeable future. What you are proposing we do for the winner of the national competition just seems random." another administrator noted.
"My offer concerns less with the sport and more about prestige. Prestige is something we can never have enough of. This school goes on and on about its notable alumni which include world-renowned authors, actors, musicians and many more. What we do for the winners of the national tournament will make tankery-centric schools envious of us. Students will want to study here and a good chunk of them will have wealthy parents who will be more than happy to make generous donations to support their child's education."
An intrigued murmur existed among the administrators. Some of who were smiling.
"When explained that way, it does sound very beneficial."
"It's a proposal where all parties involved prosper. The best kind of proposal." Madison went on.
One of the administrators holding the paper that outlined Madison's offer reached for a stamp and applied a green marking on it, much to the approval of the other administrators.
"Well Madison, you've finally done it. You've swayed us. It's now official. We now authorize you to propose your offer to the school that wins the national tournament.
Madison was pleased beyond belief. The smile on her face will last all day.
"Thank you all for making a wise decision. Have an excellent day."
She left with Alice right behind. Now outside, they celebrated with a high-five.
"Amazing! That went better than I could have ever expected! You played that prestige angle perfectly, oh and that mention of wealthy parents!"
"Mmm, I did, didn't I? This school is addicted to two things; prestige and rich parents making ludicrous donations. I'm glad that it all worked out. I prefer not to get dirty with threats."
"Now that your offer has been given the green light, what's next?"
"The hardest part." Madison said woefully.
"Waiting till June."
Barstow
Just beyond the city limits were the distant thuds of guns. Out in the Mojave were the activity of armored vehicles. Tracks clattering and guns firing. The main attraction for practice today was the maiden voyage of the Panther II. Paige has been instructed to go to a specific position where the rest of the team had congregated.
"Alright, we're here." Paige informed when her tank came to a halt.
"Owl, you are fifteen hundred meters from what we call Crater Hill. Take aim and prepare for fire." Valarie instructed.
With orders received, the Panther II crew got to work. Melody grabbed the twenty-three pound 88mm shell from the ammo rack that lined the inside of the turret. It was inserted promptly into the breech, producing a satisfying mechanical noise.
"Ready!" she yelled.
Eli had his eyes pressed against the gun sight. He had spent the past few days getting familiar with the Zeiss optics. With the markings on the sight being triangles, he compared them to a mountain range, and as the center triangle was the biggest, he named that marking Everest
"Target acquired." he said.
"Oasis, we are ready to fire." Paige relayed.
Pleased, Valarie, along with the rest of the team were out of their vehicles to hear the Panther II fire for the first time. With a squeeze, she activated the radio worn snugly around her neck.
"Fire."
It was amazing what the end result was from the simple pull of the trigger. Out from the barrel was a storm of fire and smoke as the projectile shot out toward the target. The air was filled with the smell of vaporized propellant and the sound of the legendary 88mm cannon, with its echo reverberating throughout the Mojave. Once everyone regained their hearing, they were all visibly excited. The Panther II will be a fantastic addition to the team. Eli seemed to have beginner's luck as he has hit his target, contributing another crater to the hill of the same name. As the rest of the team went off to do their routine, Ray and Valarie remained to speak with the new crew.
"How's practice? Like you imagined?" Valarie asked.
"I know this sport is all about tanks shooting at each other but I still never thought it'd be this loud…and thrilling." Paige commented.
"The loudness is something we all get used too. Thankfully though, the thrill is something that never goes away. It will forever be as high as the day you started."
Paige then took a moment to examine her uniform more closely. Specifically on her right sleeve where the patches were sewn on.
"Hmm. I take it that these are our local sponsors?" she inquired.
"They are. They sent us the funds that keep this team afloat."
"Mmm, I'm especially fond of this one." Paige remarked, pointing to a patch.
"That one? Yeah, it is the coolest of the bunch, being a Greek soldier and all."
"Ah, to be more specific, it's a Spartan hoplite in phalanx formation."
Ray lit up upon hearing Paige's words.
"I see you know your fair share of ancient history." he complimented.
"Well, I only know what it is not really because of ancient history but because my dad works at the company who has that as their logo."
"Oh, that's cool. What kind of company is it exactly?"
"An aerospace one."
Paige and Valarie continued to converse as Ray went off to have a one-on-one with Eli.
"It's nice to see another guy sign on up." Ray said.
"Man, I'm just glad there's already a male crew on this team. It would've been super awkward to be the only dude on team."
"Yes, but you are still in the unique situation of being the only guy in your crew."
"Huh. I, uh, never really thought about that. It's not really a big deal, I think."
"Now, let me tell you about people who do see it as a big deal…" Ray began, speaking now with a serious tone.
"Tankery is traditionally a girl's sport and some people are deadset on keeping it that way. You won't face any opposition on this team, thank God, but it's inevitable that you'll face some sort of harsh treatment by those who are obsessed with tradition. That's why I'm asking you to be careful. Very careful. I wish this wasn't the case and that you and I can be worry-free but that's the reality of the situation.
Eli put a finger on his chin.
"Are you saying that I can't date anyone on the team? Now, uh, I'm not saying I joined this team to date, but…c'mon…there are some cuties here and they look stunning with the uniforms.
Ray let out a huge sigh. He stepped closer and got quiet with his speech.
"Look, I'm not saying you can't date and don't get me wrong, the girls on this team are cute especially this one girl…uh…wait…I'm getting off-track! What I'm trying to say is to be safe about it. If you're going to date any girl on this team, let her make the first move. Let her ask you out and give you flowers. You and I are already breaking gender norms by being on this team, it's only fair for the girls on this team to break them themselves."
Eli grinned as he nodded.
"It actually sounds nice to be courted after rather than doing the courting yourself. Less effort on my end, that's for sure."
Ray gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"Just remember this; you belong on this team and no one can tell you otherwise."
The two boys shared a fist bump and returned to their respective vehicles. Practice has been going smoothing today, with the new crew performing well in their first outing. The Panther II no longer looked clean as if it was sterilized. Its exterior has been coated with a fine layer with the desert dust. It has now been broken in. Several hours into practice and the team now was having a break. All of the vehicles parked together in a loose group as people either rested or socialized with each other. Ray had opted to do the former as he laid on top of the turret of the IS-3. With his eyes pointed skyward, he gazed at the blue sky with a few wispy clouds flying to wherever the wind took them. The day wasn't too hot, but rather, comfortable warm. The sun felt nice on his skin, acting as a pleasant blanket. His break would've gone by uninterrupted had not someone climbed on the side of this tank and tugged with force on his uniform. Turning his head, he saw Natalie with a serious look on her face.
"You told Valarie yet?" she questioned.
"About wha—oh…that." Ray answered reluctantly."
"Well? Have you?"
"Well…no."
A nervousness has sunk its roots into him.
"What's stopping you?"
"Now's not the time. Our match is next Saturday so we all gotta focus on that. I'll tell her after the match."
"Sure you will. And when I'll remind you again, you'll come up with another excuse and the cycle will just continue.
"Okay, I'll tell her Monday."
Natalie looked at him frowning.
"I'd cross my arms if I didn't need to hold on to these hand-holds as to not fall off. If you don't tell Valarie today, I will."
Ray sighed and rubbed his face.
"Fine. I'll go right now."
"Thank you." Natalie said, relieved.
Ray hopped off the tank and proceeded to walk to the T-44 just nearby. As he got closer, his anxiousness bubbled even higher. He knew what happened to him is something that couldn't be swept under the rug and hope that it never happens again. Even if he wanted to do that, Natalie would never let that happen. Valarie was going to know regardless, so, in that case, he'll do it himself. Arriving at the T-44, he found her sitting on the ground, resting against the roadwheels, along with the rest of her crew.
"Hey Valarie, mind if we have a talk?" he asked.
Valarie stood up and had a stretch.
"Sure thing, what's up?"
Before going further, Ray noted that Emma, Ashley, and Heather were looking at them.
"Can we go somewhere private? It's personal."
Intrigued, she nodded and followed him a good distance away from anyone else to make sure not a soul could hear what he has to say. He adopted a hush tone.
"I, uh, got a strong feeling that our next match won't be very friendly."
"Strong feeling?" Valarie wondered, arms crossed.
"Yeah, a feeling…actually no not a feeling. I know for a fact it won't be friendly."
"What do you mean? What's wrong?"
Ray relaxed and let out a breath.
"During the convention, right after I left the captain's event, I came into contact with some of the students of the school we're going up against. They swarmed me and said every insult they could short of being racist towards me. One of them, this blonde girl, called me a pervert. It…ugh…"
Ray stopped briefly to stifle tears.
"It really sucked, to put it lightly. They said I was 'ruining' the sport."
Valarie was supremely upset about what he told her and took immense pity on him, giving him a hug.
"God Ray…" she softly.
"…why did you tell me earlier?"
"We were busy with the rules committee, so I figured you wanted to be focused on that and only that. It was so important."
Valarie ran her fingers through her hair.
"Well, thanks for telling me before our match with them."
"So, what does it do with our strategy?"
She stroked her chin.
"They'll most definitely treat us more harshly. The main question is, if their whole team will be like that or only some of them?"
"Whatever happens, one thing is for sure. I'm their public enemy number one."
Sunday
Buchanan, with her arms aching and shirt partially soaked with her sweat, laid down the last box in what is now her home. For the past few days, she was in the process of moving her belongings from her former apartment to the home that Redwood invited her to live in. Her possessions were nothing out of the ordinary, other than the seemingly large amount of hiking equipment. Redwood rummaged through her things and picked up a trekking pole.
"A bit of a hiker, eh?" he remarked.
Buchanan laughed a little.
"Before being an instructor, I really had no reason to leave my apartment. I spent so much time inside that all the days felt blurred. I once thought it was Monday and I had one Hell of a shock when it was actually a Friday. I learned two things from that experience. One, prison must really, really suck. Two, I gotta do something that gets me outside. So, I got into hiking. And I'm glad I did because all that walking was peaceful.
"You sure did into hiking, look at all this stuff! Boots, sun hats, backpacks, sunglasses, and like ten different kinds of water bottles."
Buchanan groaned softly.
"I don't even want to begin to think how much money I spent on all that stuff."
"Well, there's worse habits you can have."
"Guess so."
Buchanan plopped on the couch, with Soap leaping onto her lap.
"I'm tired. All the boxes are inside already so we're done for the day. I'll unpack tomorrow."
Redwood sat down with her, she rested her head against his. They sat together quietly, just enjoying the other's company. The atmosphere was tranquil, with the sun streaking wonderfully across the room. The only sound that could be heard was their breathing along with the mellow purrs of the cat napping on her lap. While Redwood was more than happy to just sleep here, Buchanan couldn't. A thought that has been gnawing at her since she had given up her settlement.
"You know Martin, sooner or later I would like to have job that has a paycheck."
"But, since we're living together, won't your expenses be near zero?"
"Yeah, but I want to help out with yours."
Redwood wrapped his arms around her.
"Oh, well, that's very thoughtful of you, but—"
"But the thing is that I last recall you saying to me that the school doesn't have it in the budget to hire anyone full-time."
"Yes, that is what I told you then, but as things tend to do, they change."
"Oh?" Buchanan remarked with a raised brow.
"Well…" he began with a smile.
"The state is giving out generous grants to schools with notable athletic accomplishments, and I don't know about you, but a school that hasn't had a tankery team in over twenty years now finding itself in the quarter-finals of a national tournament is quite the accomplishment indeed."
"A generous grant, huh? Could it be enough to, say, hire someone?"
"It is. The school, as it turns out, is looking to properly hire a tankery instructor. Luckily, I happen to know the perfect candidate for the job."
Buchanan glanced down to hide a blush as the couple held hands.
"Excuse me, Miss Buchanan, but are you available for an interview?" Redwood said playfully.
"Oh, I think I can squeeze it in my schedule." she responded amid giggles.
"Now, Miss Buchanan, what are your qualifications for the job?"
She leaned closer to him, gently caressing his cheek.
"I'd rather show than tell."
On the couch on a warm and calm Sunday, the two shared a loving kiss. Today was the beginning of their new lives. A road was now before them, a road that will contain totally new experiences for them both. Whatever happens, good and bad, they'll remain at each other's side, ready to take it on.
At the apartment complex that Buchanan formerly lived in, Heather was home, in her room. A room where nearly all the space within was occupied by something related to her passion. Rolls of cloth, leather, and yard. Scissors and sewing tape were strewn about, with the ever-popular tomato pin cushion that she had crafted herself. It was a messy room for sure, but it was a mess where Heather knew where everything was and would prefer if no one tried to interfere with the 'controlled chaos' she had created. In a corner of her room was her little workshop, a desk with a lamp placed directly overheard for good lighting and a magnifying glass affixed to it to ensure her costume making goes as precisely as it could. Then there was her sewing machine. It was that and the T-44 that she knew all the mechanisms that made them function inside and out. The manuals for each was something she devoured and reread so many times that each word has been imprinted on her mind. When working on a outfit, be it for a cosplay, she was in a state of complete serenity. Where not even the voice that has cruelly manifested in her mind could ever hope to breach and wreak havoc. Today though, she was doing a different type of work. At her desk where she sat as the map of the battlefield for the team's match in Montana. Everyone on the team got a copy of the map so that they all could familiarize themselves with the terrain so that they know what to expect. It was an environment that would be a first for everyone; a match at the iconic American grassland. Looking at some photos of the area, she found the place to be strikingly beautiful. A sea of grass that stretched all the way to the horizon and beyond. Only interrupted by the odd patch of trees, and in the team's case, an abandoned mining town. It was that feature that captured her attention. Anything abandoned fits right in with her niche interests. Looking further into that town and she learned just how decrepit a state it was in. It was at the complete mercy of the elements, and the elements had none to give. The wood was rotting, windows long smashed and doors just barely hanging on by their hinges. Anything resembling a road was in utter disrepair. Looking at these photos for some time gave her a spooky vibe, and then, an idea. The more she gave thought to it, the more that she fell in love with it. It was a devious idea and she decided to enlist the help of a devious person to help execute it. She got out her phone and shot a text to Ashley.
"You busy?"
A minute later, a response.
"No, what's up?"
"I got a fun idea for our upcoming match. Fun and devious."
" :) What do you have in mind"
Heather couldn't wipe the smile that spawned on her face.
"First off, do you know how to burn a CD?"
