Over the Pacific Ocean, a half moon was shining. While not the brightest ever, it was still enough to reflect against the caps of the waves in the distance. The stars were bright and visible, clearer than they would be on land and any other school carrier. The Nassau might not have been the biggest school ship, but it was still large enough to have vast green spaces with forests, fields, and hills. Some were tall enough to pass as low mountains, similar to those at the foothills of the Appalachians. There was a light sea breeze, plus however fast the Nassau was moving.

Amy was laying on her back, watching the sky and listening to the slice of nature around her. It reminded her of home, and she could almost believe that's where she was. Above her, a faint wispy cloud drifted past the moon. Amy remembered what she'd thought about many times in her life. That moon was the same one that was shining over everyone, the one that had been in the sky for every person who ever lived, and it would be there for everyone in the future. It watched the Earth from two hundred and thirty-eight thousand miles away and saw every moment in history.

We're all on this blue ball together, underneath that one moon. We're all people, and yet everyone can be so different.

Laying there, Amy thought about how she got to where she was. How she got to be laying in a field on the school ship USS Nassau, a ship that contained an entire Japanese city and school on board. A school that had a Tankery team, a sport she'd promised herself that she'd never be seen playing again. She thought about all the crap she'd gotten from people back in middle school about it.

"Hey Amy, gonna go play with your tanks later? Have fun with your babysitter!"

"What kind of dumbass uniform is that? You look like such a wannabe."

"You some kind of child? I quit screwing around in tanks years ago. I ain't no nerd!"

"I'm sorry, but you're so easy to make fun of. I mean you get so angry all the time, it's not like I'm doing anything. See? Look at you. You're so easy to mess with and you're so stupid when you're mad. What? C'mon, it's just a joke, chill! Chill! What the hell?"

Asshats. Not that my sense of superiority helped at all. Middle school kids can be so cruel…

Amy sat up and stared ahead, looking at nothing, thinking for several minutes. She wished she could just go back and start over sometimes… Maybe do better, somehow. It was another few minutes before she finally stood up and turned toward home.

Maybe a quick detour won't be a bad idea. It's not like the garage is locked, and Saturday night means I can be up late.

As Amy opened the side door to the Tankery garage, she was surprised to see that several of the lights were on. They were focused over her tank. She stopped behind a Lee that parked next to it. There was noise inside the Ram, and the turret was traversing around. Someone was clearly inside messing with the controls. The hum of the auxiliary motor told Amy that whoever it was knew something of what they were doing, since they knew that it needed to be running to use the power to traverse the turret. Who was it? The turret turned left, then paused and began turning again. It stopped at a five o'clock position, paused, then returned to the normal twelve o'clock. A distinct voice came from inside, audible out the open commander's hatch. The voice was frustrated.

"Ich kann nicht so schnell gehen, ohne auf Genauigkeit zu verzichten..."

That was definitely German. It was Mia. Why was Mia in the tank so late?

It's half past midnight, surely, I'm the only night owl on this crew. How is she up and doing gunnery this late?

"Was zum Teufel! Warum kann ich nicht besser sein? Ich muss wie sie sein! Scheiß drauf..."

Christ, Mia. You're pissed, I can tell that much. I know German always sounds angry, but damn. Should I do something? How do I approach her when she's worked up?

After waiting for a moment, Amy pulled out her phone. She had Mia's contact… there.

Hey

A moment later, there was a response.

You're up late… what's up?

I'm watching you doing something in the tank. On your left.

Mia rose out of the hatch, obviously surprised and embarrassed.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"About ten minutes. You sound frustrated. Are you okay?" Amy responded.

"You're not going to ask about why I'm in the tank at nearly one AM?"

"I don't care yet. I care if you're okay."

"Uh- I mean I guess…"

"People who have to think about it aren't okay. What's wrong?"

"I… I'm just frustrated I can't get this right. I can't lay on targets quickly without losing accuracy."

"And that keeps you up?"

"I didn't do so well during the practice match, and I want to get it right."

"You've got all of regular practice to get it. Why now?"

"It's… a long story…"

"Tell me."

Amy could tell that her gunner was anxious about something and somewhat uncomfortable. She needed someone to talk to.

"Mia, I'm your crewmate. I'm here for you, no matter what. You trust me with not killing us or driving off a cliff. I trust you with not letting bad guys kill us."

"Alright…"

Amy sat with her back against the turret bustle and Mia sat across from her on the engine deck. Over the course of half an hour, Amy listened to Mia explain herself. She'd grown up with two older siblings, much older. They were in their mid to late twenties, she was sixteen. Her siblings had always been extremely successful, always doing well in school and whatever else they did. Mia felt lower compared to them. Her brother and sister were now through college, her brother was an engineer starting a promising career with a Swiss aerospace company. Her sister was working on a PhD in a medical field. Mia was the last child and felt alone and inferior. She'd seen her siblings be successful her entire life and wanted to match that kind of success. Her yardstick for success was about a mile long. That's why she'd started Tankery. Mia put everything into being the best gunner she physically could. All the frustration, hopelessness, anger, worry, and jealousy could be put into a tank round and fired out the gun. Mia would make that round hit something, and she was determined to make it hit every damn time.

Mia finally seemed to relax when she finished her speech. Amy looked her in the eye.

"Mia, you're the best damn gunner I've ever seen. You don't need to prove yourself like that. You are yourself. "

"But I could do more-"

"No."

"What?"

"You are human. Humans make errors. You don't need to be perfect. You can't be perfect. I sure as hell couldn't do what you do. You compare yourself to your siblings, but you're not them, and they're not you."

"I can't ever be as good as them…"

"You aren't."

"Um…"

"Listen to me, Mia. In my opinion, you're better. Maybe you can't design a building or do an operation or whatever the hell it is your siblings do. But you know what you can do? You are part of a team, a team that was chosen by this crazy-ass school to be the best, better than anyone they could find here. You put steel on target better than anyone on this team, and this school thinks you do it better than anyone in Japan."

The gunner of the Ram stared at Amy in disbelief. Was this the same quiet person that was as mechanical and precise during combat as the tank she drove?

"Amy… thank you. I needed to hear that."

"I could tell."

"I didn't think you could say a whole lot, let alone all that."

"Well, I know what it's like to feel not good enough, to feel put down. Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Care to share?"

"Share?"

"How you know all that. And why you're up this late in the Tankery garage, chilling on your tank."

And so it was Amy's turn to spend the better part of half an hour telling her story. She told Mia about everything, from her bullying in middle school to her low self-esteem in high school.

"All of that crap over the years built up. I started to realize that I was weird, and I started to dislike myself. A lot. Then decided I was a total shitbag and just actively hated myself for a good long while."

"What did you do about it?"

"Tankery. In a tank, you're in an armored box. You're invulnerable to anything except another tank. You're above everyone else and you can shut them out. It's an escape, like driving or hiking or music. I also started to change myself and started working on being better in general. It's a whole list. But yeah, I kept doing Tankery for a long while."

"Just in a steel box with a roaring engine, smoke, people, and rounds flying at you."

"Yeah."

"I'd call you weird but hey, who am I to judge?"

"Hey man, you can take the tanker out of the tank, but you can't take the tank out of the tanker. Usually it's pretty hard to get the tanker out though."

The two laughed together. This was the start of a real crew. It was the first of many long nights that each member spent with their tank and with each other, and it wouldn't be the last.

Yet another chapter! I really liked getting to write character's feelings and thoughts this time. I'd like to think I've been doing half-decent with these, but I'd love to hear feedback if anyone has anything to say. I try to go over everything a few times and have someone read through each chapter for me, but I'm sure there's things we both miss. My "editor" also has very little knowledge of Girls und Panzer and I'm excited to know what people who are familiar with the series think of the story so far (as well as if anyone gets the music references in the titles).