Friday, September 13th 2013

Port of Iquique, Chile

"So, you're really sure that you wanna do this?"

"Yup."

"Even with us now knowing how Valarie feels about tankathlon?"

"Mmmhmm."

"If we get caught, we'll get in huge trouble."

"If, Nathan, if. Believe me, we're gonna take every precaution here."

"Okay..."

"Hey, you're still with me bud?"

"All the way."

"Awesome. Let's go get the rest."

Once the school day ended, Cassidy and Nathan intend to use the two hours they have until the meeting starts to do something secretive. Perhaps even clandestine.

Signing up for tankathlon.

As the pair departed their apartment to go Aurora's place, Valarie's thoughts toward tankathlon was still fresh in their minds. Of how she torched the article about the sport and let the burnt cinders fall from her hands and disintegrate upon hitting the concrete floor. From her perspective, Valarie's stance against tankathlon was a protective measure for the benefit of the team. They already attracted enough controversy by the fact that they were a coed team that not only tolerated male inclusion in tankery, but welcomed it with open arms. It was something that those that hold a more traditionalist view on tankery, which is quite a sizable portion of the worldwide tankery athlete population, vehemently objected to on every ground.

Tankathlon was viewed in a somewhat similar manner. An off-shoot of tankery, the sport has been regarded by the same traditionalists as 'lesser'. Inferior. Dishonorable. That participating in such activities was conduct unbecoming for a 'proper' tankery athlete.

Their walk down the hall did induce some levels of apprehension for Cassidy and Nathan. Though Valarie's unit was a floor below them, there was this feat that she for whatever reason would appear from the stairwell or from the elevator. Could they keep a straight face if they had to walk past her. Would they able to lie convincingly during the conversation that would inevitably manifest in such a scenario? A lot of overthinking that would eventually reveal that it was all for naught. With a quick knock, Aurora opened the door of her apartment and let them in. In the living room, they all congregated, both the crews of the AMR 35 and Puma.

"Alright," Aurora said. "What's the move?"

"Sign up for a tankathlon match," Cassidy replied. "I've looked around on that website for the Chilean Tankathlon Syndicate. Managed to get into contact with an organizer who asked a lot of questions. I felt like I was interrogated to make sure I had genuine interest and not had like 'nefarious' motives. After she felt confident, she shared with the the info we need. In the port that we're docked in is a designated ship where people are doing sign-ups. It's only a few rows away."

Aurora rose from her seat and made for the door.

"Let's get a move on," she told everyone. "We'll sign-up and come back in time for the meeting."

The two crews made their quick disembarkation of Catalina's school ship. Down at the docks, they followed Cassidy to the ship in question that was hosting the sign-ups. As they walked, they couldn't help but notice the port around them. Half a dozen school ships have port here, their gargantuan sizes encased the docks below in shadows. It made them wonder if there was a chance that if one of these ships was of the school that they were to go against later in the month. It was a thought that briefly entered all their minds that quickly went away as they all caught glances at the open sea. Humongous sea-faring vessels sailed to and fro across the horizon. Unmistakably, they were other school ships. As the world tournament progressed, the hype that surrounded it increased with every month that passed by. Where matches were to take place, where bullets were to fly, the nearest ports to these areas became popular destinations to the point of horrible congestion. A lot of work for port authorities. A nice boost to the local economies.

It took about half an hour to get to the ship where the tankathlon sign-ups were taking pace. When the group walked up the ramp, they took a pause.

"Where exactly is this place?" Aurora inquired.

"Where else? In the school on this big boat." Cassidy answered.

"Lead the way."

Travel along the top-side of the ship revealed to them some idea of its country of origin. Street signs were written in English and a speed limit sign that passed stated the maximum speed for this particular road to be fifty kilometers an hour. This information narrowed down the possibilities.

"This ship is either from Canada, Australia, or the U.K." Aurora reasoned.

"Oh, I hope it's the U.K," Riley said with a smile. "Boys with British accents," she stopped to blush. "Makes me melt like butter."

Cassidy prevented a chuckle from escaping.

"I bet you listen to One Direction." she teased.

"Yes, I do!" Riley said confidently. "You have a problem with that?"

"Nope. I'll admit, those guys have a few hits among them."

"Oh! What's your favorite?"

"That's a tough one actually."

"Hold up," Aurora then interjected. "I think that's the school up ahead."

With the school in view, what would have been an insightful conversation on favorite pop songs has been interrupted. With time of the essence, the group picked up the pace and proceeded to the main entrance. There, was a large iron gate, flung open, whose design was from an older era. Mounted on it was the school's coat of arms, and more importantly, it's name.

Saint George Church of England Private Academy.

"Man, wonder where this ship is from." Aurora joked.

As the gate was open, they walked onto campus and found it sparse. The school day here has ended as well. The people they did see were some students who wore modest school uniforms along with some teachers. Though, it was what the teachers wore that made the group feel out of place. The teachers, all of them women, wore black robes with hoods covering their heads. What their clothing represented wasn't lost on any of them.

"Oooh, it's that type of school." Nathan remarked as he looked at the nuns.

"Man, I'm starting to feel underdressed." Aurora said with a little anxiety.

"Come on guys, it's not like we're going to church." Cassidy told them.

"Well, we're awfully close."

"Which building are we supposed to go to?" Avery then questioned.

"Room 27. Second floor," Cassidy looked ahead to see several buildings. "Okay. Um. There are quite a few multistory buildings."

They halted their walk to talk among themselves to determine their next course of action. They were on a time limit, so if they wasted too much time they'd be late to the team's meeting which could draw suspicions on their activities. As they chatted, they failed to notice one of the nuns that walked toward them. When she cleared her throat, the group all fell silent and faced her.

"You all seem lost," the nun said in a wonderful British accent. She looked no older than twenty-five. "Which leads me to believe that you aren't students here."

"Ah," Cassidy uttered. "We're not. We're here on business, to sign up for something."

"Curious," the nun remarked. "I'm not aware of anything like that occurring today."

"Really? I was told that there was."

"I'm afraid you've been misinformed."

"Great," Aurora said bitterly. "We just wasted our time."

"Calm down, dear. There is an event going on that might interest you all to make the trip worthwhile."

"What's that?"

"A student-lead Bible-study. Room 27."

"Bible study? No way—"

"—We'll miss that!" Cassidy said, taking over Aurora's speech. "Thank you, sister, for letting us know. Mind telling us which building Room 27 is?"

"It'll be my pleasure," the nun pointed down their path. "Follow the walkway down 'till you reach a turn. Take a right and you can't miss it. It's the Gregor Mendel building."

"Thank you kindly."

The nun left as the group pressed on and followed her directions. Once the nun was far enough away, Aurora walked next to Cassidy.

"What are you doing? A Bible-study? Really?" she asked her.

"I'm operating on a hunch here. So just trust me."

After a moment, Aurora gave her a nod. A brisk few minute walk delivered them to the building they were looking for. It was entered and when they reached the second floor saw a hallway with the doors flanked on either side closed shut, save for one. The group approached the open room cautiously and peered inside. There was a small group of students, Bibles in hand, reading as they listened to a more senior student provide explanations of the scripture they were reading.

"Cool," Aurora remarked in a whisper that was soaked in sarcasm. "Any of you guys wanna join in and learn about Jesus?"

A student from the room then appeared, spooking the group.

"Bible study?" she asked them. "...Or something else?"

Cassidy contemplated her response.

"Something else." she finally said.

The girl pointed to the door across the hall. The group went up to it and opened the door. Inside was another girl, alone, who was sitting at a teacher's desk. She had tanned skin and long black hair. She was busy with some papers when the group arrived.

"¿Español o inglés?" the girl asked them.

"Inglés." Cassidy responded.

"Good. Always like an opportunity to speak English for more practice," the girl stood up from the desk. "You are here for tankathlon, yes? Or as well call it in Chile, Pequeña lucha de tanques."

"We are," Aurora said to her. "Boy, you keep things low-key around here. This school doesn't even know tankathlon sign-ups are happening right on its campus."

"It has to be that way as a way to protect us," the tankathlon organizer said with a serious tone. "In South America, Chile is the place that is more tolerable to tankathlon of tankathlon. But with a match in las internacionales happening soon in Bolivia, Chilean ports are busier than ever. No doubt that among the visiting ships are tankery athletes who are...are, ay, cuál es la palabra..."

"Hardliners?" Cassidy suggested. "Traditionalist? Conservative?"

"Si. Todo eso y mas," the organizer then gave Cassidy a sign-up sheet. "We've had those types of people try to stop our matches. Say that we're 'ruining' tankery and that we need to be put in our place. Something like that. They're wrong, obviously. There is nothing wrong with tankathlon. The girls who hate it are nothing more than stuck-up bitches."

"Amen to that," Aurora said with a grin. "We're open minded and want more action in our lives."

"You are open minded, I could tell the moment you all walked through the door," the organizer's eyes was on Nathan. "He wouldn't be here if he wasn't in tankery."

"Aaand that won't be an issue, right?" Cassidy said as she got between her brother and the organizer.

"I can't speak for everyone. Tolerating tankathlon is one thing. Tolerating boys in tankery is another thing entirely. For me, I don't care." the organizer stepped back and returned to her seat. Her eyes then squinted. "You're that American team, aren't you? In the tournament?"

"What, ah, what do you mean?"

"I, of course, follow the latest happenings in the world competition. I know that the American team has both boys and girls and that their next match is in Bolivia. And what do I see in this room? American tankery athletes with a boy among them. One plus one equals two, hmm?"

The group looked awkwardly at each other. Cassidy then slowly nodded.

"Alright...you got us."

She saw no point in lying. The organizer flashed a smile.

"So, the world tournament is too boring for you Americans? Even considering your country's history in this level of competition?"

"What's boring is the one month long intervals between matches. It feels like an eternity," Aurora explained to her. "We not only want more action, but also to keep our skills sharp."

"Understandable. Fill out that form then hand it to me to complete your registration. Bit of advice, it's very common for tankathlon teams to adopt fake names rather than just use the name of their school per the norm. You should definitely do it too as since you are in the tournament, people will signal you out in a match."

"Gotcha."

The group got together to bash out a name for themselves.

"Can't call ourselves the Mojave Rose tankathlon team, huh?" Nathan said.

"No. We weren't gonna use that as our name anyway," Aurora told him. "Gotta keep things discreet."

Numerous suggestions were spouted out but none thus far was deemed suitable enough. As the girls brainstormed loudly, Nathan remained silent, though he was thinking just as hard as the rest. His mind wandered to his interests which led to his favorite subject in school. Chemistry. The field of science has been a favorite of his since when he was in elementary his class received chemistry lessons simplified for fourth graders. He grasped the concepts immediately and prospered. Now, at Catalina, he took AP Chemistry as his science class and was doing extremely well. Nathan wondered intensely if he could incorporate his joy of chemistry into the creation of the team's name. Then, it all clicked. They were doing tankathlon in secret and there was a secretive chemistry project that was famous in history. He reached for the sheet and wrote down what he thought up. All the girls looked at what he did.

"Manhattan Project?" Cassidy remarked, at first with some puzzlement, then grinned. "Oh man, Nathan, that's a good one. I'm all for it."

"Isn't that the project that made the atomic bomb?" Aurora asked.

"It is." Nathan answered plainly.

"Okay. Well. I don't have any other ideas so I guess we'll go with that."

The rest of the sign-up sheet was filled out and returned to the organizer. She reviewed it and had raised an eyebrow."

"One of your vehicles is a Puma. It's over the ten ton limit."

"What if we lighten the load?"

"If you can manage that, then yes. They'll be scales at the match staging area so your vehicle will be weighed prior to the start of the match."

The organizer stored the sheet into her briefcase and prepared to leave.

"Your match will be this Sunday against five other teams in a free-for-all setting. Further details will be sent to you later," she continued. The organizer went toward the door but stopped to look at them one more time. "For the boy's sake, I suggest you wear disguises of some sort."

She left before anyone of them could ask any further questions. There wasn't any time anyway. Cassidy checked the time and gasped.

"Guys. We gotta run. I mean run."

Later

Today's meeting marked the Churchill's crew's second day with the team and they were progressing well. Thanks to Claudia's previous tankery experience and further assistance from people on the team that have been a part of it since day one, Claudia's crew were trained at an expedited level. They were already becoming comfortable with their roles in the tank which would only strengthen as time goes by.

Claudia stood by her tank as she tended to her uniform. Personally, she would've preferred a much darker color scheme as the current color is an incredible tank color that blended perfectly with a desert environment. Of course, this makes sense as Mojave Rose was from a sandy part of California.

Once she sorted out her uniform, she then looked toward the Churchill. Specifically on the left side of its turret. It was the spot where the crew painted their callsign. A simple depiction of a tumbleweed with squiggly lines behind it to give off the impression it was moving fast. Speed. Something no one has ever associated with the Churchill.

She soon stopped her admiration of their art and went straight to her backpack. As she was a relatively new student to Mojave Rose, she was still in the process of getting settled in. She wanted to review the graduation requirements for the school as she was a junior. Graduation day was gonna come sooner than she thinks and she wanted to make damn sure she got her diploma. From her binder, she got out the paper had the the information she was seeking, but it was something not related to the requirements that drew confusion from her. A feel that she had ever since she first learned she was going to Mojave Rose. Its emblem.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man that she understood to be the vice-principal and now also fulfilled the role of educational liaison for the team as they are away for the internationals. She approached him.

"Hey, mind if you help me understand something?"

"If it's about tanks I can't help you there," Martin told her. "Ask Mrs. Redwood. Ask Valarie. Ask literally anyone else. They know way more than me."

"No, not that. What I'm wondering is about Mojave Rose."

"That, I can help you with."

"Alright. So, broadly, this team is called 'Dust Devils', right?"

"Yep."

"And 'Dust Devils' is also another term to refer to the students of Mojave Rose, right?"

"Right."

"So. Tell me this. How did a name like that come into existence when the school's emblem is a grizzly bear with a rose in its mouth?"

Martin smiled as he leaned against a wall.

"There's a story behind that, but first, some background. Mojave Rose High School was first established in Barstow, California in the year 1959. Back then, we didn't go by 'Dust Devils'. We went by the 'Mojave Bears'.

"Not the most creative, but decent enough."

"Yeah, it wasn't that bad at all. Fast forward to 1970. By then, Mojave Rose was operating a tankery team. It wasn't exactly like ours as they only focused on regional matches. One such match was in Death Valley, our school against another from Corona. From what I can gather, it was a close match that culminated in an intense firefight in the sand dunes where Mojave Rose won the day. After the match, the opposing team's captain made this comment. 'Goddamn. They were caked in dust and fought like devils.'"

Claudia laughed a little.

"So that's where it came from, huh?"

"Yup. The team renamed themselves to 'Dust Devils' soon thereafter. It wasn't long before the name came to also refer to the student body of Mojave Rose. We've wore the name proud ever since."

"That's a damn cool story. So, why hasn't the school's logo change to like a devil or something?"

"Here's the thing. Some parents back then didn't like the name. It was the 'devil' part they found issue with. But they tolerated it. Barely. Changing the logo to a devil, no matter how cartoony we could make it be, would be crossing the line. Nowadays we could maybe do it without much push back, but at this point the bear has represented the school for so long already."

"Gotcha. Thanks for the history lesson."

"You're welcome! It's one of my most favorite stories to tell."

Claudia returned to her crew to both help them out and further familiarize herself being the Churchill's commander. In an other section of the garage, where the T-44 was parked, Valarie sat upon the turret. With a pen in hand, she worked on the team's strategy for their match against the Swiss later in the month. When she was like this, it was a sign to everyone in the garage that she was not to be disturbed as she needed all of her concentration to craft the best possible strategy. So consumed in her work that she was oblivious to the nearby Puma and AMR crews who looked liked they finished a marathon in record time, her thoughts dominated by the detailed map of the area of engagement covered with markings and notes. There was something about physical maps that Valarie couldn't get enough of. So much so that she made it a policy for all tanks on the team to have physical copies of maps of the matches they were taking part in as a backup.

The T-44's loader's hatch flung open and Emma popped out. She gave Valarie a playful prod on her thigh. She was the sole exemption of the unofficial rule that Valarie was not to be disturbed.

"How's it going? Is the winning strategy ready to go?"

Valarie responded with a light laugh.

"Let's not call it the winning strategy until after we win the match...if we win that is. We can never assume such a thing."

"Well, yeah. I was just teasing you. So, what are we up against?"

"From the research I've done on Dunant, I learned that their tankery team exclusively operates German armor."

"So we can expect anything from little Panzer IIs to King Tigers?"

"Not necessarily," Valarie showed Emma the map. "The battlefield is one a salt flat with the only cover available a few scattered prehistoric islands. Just by looking at the terrain, you can already long-range engagements will be the name of the game.

"A sniping match, huh? So the Swiss won't field anything with low-velocity guns. We can expect things like Panzer IIIs and IVs with the long-barrled 50 and 75mm respectively, Panthers, Tigers, et cetera."

Valarie leaned over and gave Emma a huge kiss on her cheek.

"You're exactly right," Valarie said in a loving voice that made her girlfriend swoon. Emma expected more affection but was disappointed to find Valarie was again reviewing the map and making strokes with her pen. "I know what we'll be doing. Island hopping."

"...Huh?"

"Dunant has artillery, Hummel self propelled guns. They'll for sure be fielding them. We'll be using the prehistoric islands as a defensive position, to dare them to come. Once they are at the maximum effective range of our guns, we fire two volleys and reposition to another island. If we stay on an island for too long, their artillery will ruin us. And I'm sure a certain someone we know would hate that."

"Yeah, I'd rather not have our driver race across a salt flat to ram into a Hummel."

"Mmmhmm. When those barrages come, and they will come, we'll need to comfort Heather the best we can."

"She's been on the team as long as me and you. By now, I'm sure she's gotten used to such things."

"Used to what?" said Heather from below, looking straight into Emma's eyes.

"Um," Emma hesitated. "You know, explosions. Shells whistling by. That sort of thing."

"Not every explosion. You both know that."

Valarie tapped her fingers on the turret roof. Anxious.

"Yes. We do. But, you've come so far since our first match, right?"

Heather looked at them both for several moments. She felt a tad bit suspicious, but not enough to continue asking questions. It was late in the day and in that moment, wanted nothing more than to just rest.

"I have," she told them in a low voice, then yawned. "I still got a lot more work to do to become the person I want to be. But I'll get there. I can feel it."

The meeting winded down and soon thereafter the team was dismissed. They'll need their energy for tomorrow's practice. Especially for one girl, whose more than excited to take to the skies.

.

.

.

That Night

20 Kilometers from the Port of Iquique

Golden Gate's School Carrier

The student council room for Golden Gate Institute of Technology was in a layout similar to the one onboard Catalina. But it was the president that made the mood in the room so completely different. Two people were in the room. Juliana, sat in her seat, an executive chair that would be fitting for some soulless corporate CEO. Cassandra sat across from her, in a chair that was purposely chosen to make her look up to Juliana. The symbolism here was something Cassandra wasn't blind to.

Cassandra was told by Juliana to come here. She was initially annoyed as it was nearing ten in the evening, but then reasoned it must be something important as why else would Juliana summon her at this hour.

"By the early morning, this ship will make port in Chile. The same port Catalina is." Juliana informed.

"Is...is that why you called me to come here?"

"No," Juliana brought her hands together stood straight in her chair. Behind her was a large glass window that showed the black sea. "Something has been on my mind for the past few weeks. It's about that tankery team you have so more love for."

"What about them?" Cassandra said in a near growl.

"More specifically, about their captain. You see, it was her that made Viola commit to transfer to Catalina rather than Golden Gate. Her potential, all but squandered. She was there when Viola told me, 'I'm transferring to Catalina because I like the tankery captain.'"

"Okay, that sucks. But that was last month. You're still angry about that? Aren't there more people from royal backgrounds from you to recruit?"

Juliana slammed her fist onto the table, shaking it. Cassandra shut her mouth.

"Madison humiliated me," Juliana stood up and laid her hands on the table to support her. "Now, her sister has done it too. Humiliate me. Robbing Viola from my god damn grasp."

"...Got it. She is already a target for us though."

"No, not us. She's mine, you hear? You don't touch her. She's my target, my victim. I want to be the one to bring her hurt. I want to make her regret ever being related to that rancid bitch Madison."

"Y-yup. She's all yours. I'll focus on the boys on Mojave Rose's team."

"Deal," Juliana said as she calmed down and sat back down. "I've already got something to work on regarding their captain."

"What's that?"

"It's what she said to me when we met last month. When I asked her a question about being a tankery captain."

"And her answer was?"

"All sorts of things in my personal life can influence how I conduct the sport and draft up my strategies. Good...and bad," Juliana said verbatim what Valarie told her. "Did you catch it?"

Cassandra processed what she heard but could only give a shrug.

"Uh. No."

"It's what she said at the end," Juliana told her as a small grin started to form. "That pause. She had something bad happen in her personal life and I fully intend to find out what that was."

"Where you'll then exploit it."

"Oh I'll exploit the hell out of it. Once I find out what happened to her, I'll use it against her. To belittle her. To make her feel worthless. To make her cry. Maybe I can mess with her mind enough to ruin it, so that she won't be able to effectively command. Do to her what she has done to me. Humiliation."

A plan was set.

Valarie and Juliana were now on a collision course.