Waking up the next day was like a breath of fresh air. Mariah sat up and stretched before getting dressed. She had allowed herself the rest of the day after the match to relax, however for today, she had other plans. Specifically involving the reason Mojave Rose was in town in the first place. The opening of Houston''s annual Tank con was today. It lasted all week, but Mariah wasn't able to attend the whole convention, with school and practice taking up most of her time. Today, however, she had plenty of time to spend at the convention.

There were two reasons that Mariah was especially interested in attending. First, a presentation on being the captain of a tankery team effectively was being held at noon. Second, and the reason Mariah was up so early, were event sign ups. There was a table in the middle of the convention center to sign up for local tournaments and events. The problem is, with so many schools attending, a great number of them from Texas, she needed to get there early or all the slots in the tournaments would be taken.

Besides that, it was always great to see all the tanks that teams from out of town had brought in. That and some of the uniforms were creative as hell. From Westfield High's Royal Navy inspired uniforms to Molly Pitcher's revolutionary war uniforms, to Paris Private Academy's Grande Armee uniforms…

Wait… Uniforms! It was only now that Mariah realized she never bothered to get any for her own team. They weren't strictly necessary; however she couldn't think of a single team that didn't have one now that she thought about it. Her whole drive to the convention center, she brainstormed ideas. Her team didn't have a theme going, so she couldn't work off of that. Anything with a skirt was definitely out with a guy in the tank. Mariah was perfectly well aware that Matt would never try to do anything like that on purpose, but they would be in a small, enclosed space in which Mariah would be sitting above Matt, and accidents do happen. So what did that leave her?

Putting those thoughts aside as she pulled into a parking lot a mile away from the convention center. From experience, Mariah knew trying to park any closer was a fool's errand. In addition to the usual difficulties of finding parking during a major convention, there was the aggravating factor of the fact that a not insignificant amount of the conventiongoers were driving tanks, many of which required more than one parking space.

Finding a parking space relatively easily this far from the convention center, Mariah began the long walk to the convention center, seeing her walk as a chance to engage in tankspotting. Multiple Shermans, T-34s and Crusaders later, as well as a Centurion, a Char 2c, and a Jagdtiger, Mariah arrived at the center, impatiently standing in line to buy her ticket. She tapped her foot on the ground, looking around at the other congoers, checking her phone and generally trying to find something worth doing while she was waiting. Eventually, finally, she reached the front of her line and bought her ticket.

Finally having her ticket, Mariah entered the convention center. It was already busy, filled with both fans and athletes with multiple tanks on display, some of them for sale. Having just purchased an entire team's worth of tanks, Mariah didn't have the money for anymore. Either way, she didn't have to look at them. Heading quickly to the room, already filled with people who had evidently had the same idea, Mariah quickly looked at the various tournaments and events, making her way somewhat slowly to the front of the room.

When she got there, things were how she had expected. Despite the convention having opened less than an hour earlier, most slots were taken, with only two slots being available out of the ten or so tournaments present. The first was for the Lubbock Ironwoman Round Robin tournament. Mariah quickly took the provided pen and signed Clear Ditch up for the tournament. Only 8 schools would be allowed in the tournament, which, given it was a Round Robin tournament, Mariah figured made sense.

The second one, Mariah was less sure about. Rather than a tournament, it was a sign up sheet for a reality TV show. Power Tankers. Mariah had caught a few episodes on TV before. The basic premise was that a tankery team would be pitted against a random vehicle of the producer's choice. The catch was the vehicle the team would be fighting would always be highly illegal in normal tankery. From modern main battle tanks to warships to small numbers of blueprint vehicles, despite the numerical advantage, it was never easy. To make things worse, the opposing vehicles weren't revealed to them until 30 minutes before the fight. That said, the prize money quickly changed her mind. $50,000 dollars for winning the fight. She quickly picked up the pen and wrote down her school's name, realizing how much good that could do for the team.

Relieved that she'd been able to find some events for the team to take part in, Mariah wondered the convention center, passing the time before the commander's panel. After a couple of hours of wandering, looking at the tanks and other armored vehicles on display, she found something that caught her eye. A single 76 MM armor piercing shell was being displayed in a glass case.

Approaching the case, Mariah read the label stating that it was apparently an APAC shell. Huh. Never heard of that kind of shell used in tankery before. Mariah thought, kneeling to read the plaque. It soon became clear why she'd never heard of it.

"After the invention of carbon lining in 1925, the governments of the world knew that without a counter to this new technology, Otherwise, tanks would quite literally become unkillable titans of the battlefield. Six years later, they got their answer. German scientists discovered a compound which, when applied to a tank shell, would melt through the carbon armor. Despite Germany's attempts to keep this new technology to itself, spies from other nations very quickly stole the formula. The United Kingdom, upon obtaining the formula for itself, dubbed shells treated with this compound as Armor Piercing Anti Carbon shells, or APAC for short. When the war started, The UK distributed this compound to its allies and Germany did the same in turn. As a result, carbon lining had a surprisingly small effect on the war as a whole."

Now that she thought about it, Mariah realized she should have wondered how tank combat during World War 2 managed to be so deadly. After all, the idea that carbon armor could be penetrated at all was a completely alien concept to her. For some reason, she had never put those two pieces of knowledge together in her head. It took her a few seconds to process this information.

"Gory huh?" Mariah heard from behind her.

"Huh? Oh, Captain Smith! Er… Ma'am." Mariah said, startled at hearing the voice of her JROTC instructor behind her.

"Relax, I'm off the clock. APAC shells are brutal, huh?"

"Uhh, yeah. Sure sounds like it." Mariah said, visibly relaxing. "Are all those tanks over there for sale? Some of them just look like pieces of scrap." She asked.

"Ahh well, the association makes sure they're at least reparable, and they tend to go for cheaper. A Fixer-upper for some of the poorer schools generally.

"You're telling me people can fix up things like THAT?" Mariah asked, gesturing toward a rusted over Cunningham with the turret on display separately.

"Yeah. if you have the right tools and a good amount of hand, you can get it done in a couple of day. It is a hell of a lot of work though. You kids had it easy. We used to look forward to those repair days, meant we had a new tank!" Captain Smith said, obviously reminiscing.

"Whoa. Now that you mention it, what tank did you command?" Mariah asked now that she realized neither of her teachers ever mentioned that specific detail

"Well… There's a tank of the same model being sold here. I know it's silly, and it's not like I can afford it anyway, but it is a pretty rare vehicle."

Mariah watched as Smith looked around, clearly searching for something. "Which one is it?" She asked hesitantly

"Th-that one!" Captain Smith stammered, unable to believe her luck, pointing at a rusted out green vehicle.

It was clearly based on the chassis of the KV-1. It was built in a casemate style, but the strangest thing about it were the guns. Yes, two. Even in its rusted state, Mariah could see the two 76 MM guns poking out of the casemate. "Oh… What is that?" Mariah asked.

"That is a KV-7. That is the exact KV-7 that I commanded. I left it in Nebraska!" Ms. Smith said, running her hands over the hull.

"Oh…" Mariah said, her brain unable to come up with a more comprehensive response to that revelation. "I… I don't know if I have enough saved even for that." Mariah said.

"Oh, no, you don't have to! I'm not going to leech off of my students like that!" Captain Smith said, shocked that Mariah thought she meant that.

"Sorry, sorry. Just used to being able to solve problems with money. Never spent it all on one thing like this." Mariah said nervously.

"Oh, well at least you're learning." Smith said. "I think I'll stand around here for a while."

"Er… Alright, have fun Ma'am. Mariah said, figuring she was dismissed and turning to leave.

Offering to buy an $800 dollar tank for one of my teachers? What was I thinking raced through Mariah's mind. She didn't even have 800 dollars anymore. And with someone making a teachers salary, hearing a student make an offer so casually must have been a slap in the face, Mariah figured. She resolved to apologize to her teacher the next time she saw her.

Meanwhile, back at the KV-7, Captain Smith, made a call on her phone. "Serena? Yeah, it it's me! It has been too long! I have a request to make."

After this, the convention passed rather quickly for Mariah. The panel on being an effective commander was as edifying, although not for the reason Mariah had hoped. The presenter was another student rather than the professional tanker that she expected, a senior and team captain from Dallas independent high school named Sandy.

"Independent thought is the bane of all tankery, and the commander position is no exception. Other commanders think this rule does not apply to them. They take the initiative and break formation to deal with personal grudges." The presenter ranted angrily.

The presenter seemed to be a bit too interested in drilling respect, discipline, and uniformity into recruits over creativity and flexibility, Mariah thought. This somewhat baffled her, after all, that style of commanding had been shown to have very real weaknesses over the past two years. Still, it seemed that some who practiced the opposing philosophy had become even more deeply committed to it despite its shortcomings. And besides, it just sounded boring and frustrating to play matches like that.

Still, Mariah stuck around, figuring it would help her deal with them in the future. After all, she knew she'd probably fight one eventually, getting their opinion would definitely be helpful in beating them.

Sitting through the rest of the lecture, Mariah relaxed and listened, deciding it would be best to do so. Soon enough though, the panel ended and Mariah stood up to head out. As she did though, she heard someone calling her from behind.

"Huh? Yes?" Mariah asked, spinning around to face the girl calling her.

The girl, who had been the host of the panel, approaching her, looking aggressive. Mariah stepped back, wary of a physical confrontation, but luckily, the other girl stopped short.

"I know you idolize Mojave Rose!" She said, as if that was a horrible accusation to make.

"Er? Yes? Fighting them was really scary. This is about the boys in Tankery thing isn't it?" Mariah asked, figuring that seemed to be the main reason for controversy around the desert school.

"Hah! Nah, anything to get more people involved. Seems like the best way to get the pro league back. Nah, the thing is, those slackers teach a whole bunch of horrible habits. Poor discipline works on occasion, but it's not how you get wins."

"Er… okay? I just wanna have fun. Besides, didn't you lose against St. Abigail's last year?" Mariah replied, still backing away.

"Me? No, Sandra did because she charged forward to fight her cousin! This year, I'm in charge and we're running all the way to the finals and winning!"

"Er… Okay, good luck. Why are you talking to me about this?" Mariah asked, feeling weirded out about being the sole audience member for the rant of a girl she had never met.

"Because YOU fucking noobs took our chance to prove our superiority away from us. I go on the ATA site, I see they're available for a match, I click on them to arrange it, and then BOOM! Error! This match is no longer available! All because of you!"

"Er… It wasn't me who arranged that match. That was our instructor!" Mariah said, desperately trying to escape this awkward conversation.

"Either way, your school took our opportunity from us! Until we pay you back, you're our umm… Second… Third biggest enemy!" The girl announced proudly.

"Err… Good luck with that." Mariah said, backing off, turning and running, having had enough of dealing with this crazy lady. Luckily, the crowd was dense enough that with her head start, there was no chance she'd get caught.

With that, Mariah decided it would be best for her to leave. The chances were slim that she'd run into the crazy girl again, but better safe than sorry. Besides, she'd done everything she'd set out to do at the con anyway, so she didn't really see any reason to hang around. Crowds weren't her thing anyway. Making a beeline for her car, Mariah climbed in and drove herself home, satisfied with the day.