Bullpen! -Prologue-

Following the surprising upset victory in the intense match between the Oarai Compound Team and the All-Stars University Team, the Japanese Sensha-dō Federation conducted a re-evaluation of its rules involving the use of unconventional tactics, weaponry, and personnel. Not only did the match make waves through the JSF leagues, but it gained the attention of foreign federations of Panzerkraft.

While the use of the Karl Gerät artillery piece was considered to be an unfair and costly move, the match's reception by the public presented an opportunity for the JSF to capitalize on the surge of interest in tankery and cement the supremacy of Japanese Sensha-dō.

The public's praise of the uncouth and rebellious tactics employed by the compound team in the elimination of the Karl and the university team's T28 Super-Heavy tank, along with growing popularity in unsanctioned Tankathlon matches, pushed JSF officials to look toward foreign counterparts for inspiration.

While Panzerkraft worldwide is regarded as a female-dominated sport, a fringe federation assembled by a collection of co-ed military academies has formed a league, forged in a tradition of using dynamic, renegade methods of tankery while conforming fluildly to international guidelines of conduct. With specialty matches and exhibitions aiding the league's growth in popularity in the West, their tankers are viewed by die-hard fans as the future of international Panzerkraft.

Honored for their ingenuity, talent and esprit de corps, this body of tankers is known as the Integrated Leagues – Integrierte Ligen.

As the JSF delved into the study of the Integrierte Ligen and their unorthodox tactics, an increasingly popular and dynamic discipline was discovered: "Bullpen". Bullpen employs the following rules:

- Casemate tank destroyers/Self-Propelled Guns only.

- Vehicles must weigh 35 tons or less.

- Team must adhere to all applicable regional, national and international league guidelines.

- Passive deployment | Teams are non-combatant, gathering intelligence and making use of cover, altering the deployment area as needed to their advantage. Combatant tanks and personnel are forbidden from hostilities in this phase.

- Team may not exchange intelligence with combatants unless cleared to do so by match officials.

- Once 'activated', team will engage targets in accordance with predetermined match instructions. Friendly combatants may open communication. Hostile combatants are cleared to engage.

Further parameters of Bullpen deployment include but are not limited to:

- Acting as a 'saving grace' to a losing team during elimination battles, once a predetermined number of tanks have been rendered inoperable.

- Providing firepower to a team once key objectives in a match have been obtained.

- Disrupting team advancement in matches where predetermined 'capture points' or objectives are designated.

- Dynamic deployment of match-regulated items (flags, equipment).

- Intervention in the event of questionable equipment and/or tactics being used by JSF committee, combatants or non-combatants.

- 'Renegade Protocol' - Targets are engaged indiscriminately to hasten the end of a match.

With the proposed introduction of the Bullpen method, new competition styles were also agreed upon by the JSF committee for further development:

Domination – Combatants battle to capture strategic zones within a designated match area, holding to generate points. The match ends once a predetermined goal has been achieved by either team. Match duration may vary.

CTF (Capture The Flag) – Combatants compete for control of flags within a battle zone. Flags are placed dynamically depending on match conditions, and must be 'run' to friendly zones to score.

Tanker-Ball – A specially-designed ball can be shot or pushed by tanks into designated zones to score goals. Tanks can act as 'goalies' to prevent the opposing team from scoring.

Hunter/Prey – A team of tanks will 'hunt' a single unit, with elimination or time limit determining the match outcome.

Invasion – Combatants are given a single main objective to attack and/or capture, while the main objective maintains defense – whether by an enemy team or a special weapon.

Although divided on the official adoption of these new principles into the historic sport, the JSF committee compromised on a consensus of trial and error after a long series of debates. Followed by an international partnership, Bullpen teams from the Integrierte Ligen were assembled and dispatched to train with various schools in the JSF leagues, and participate in new matches to demonstrate the future evolution of Sensha-dō.

We join the tale of one such team, currently on a long journey by train, fresh from a recent deployment at Oarai Girls' Academy…

-Chapter 1-

The Road to Kumamoto—Pt. 1

The rocking motion of the train shook the head of a young man resting against the wall of his bunk. He'd found no comfort in the padded washboard masquerading as a mattress. His trimmed, wavy caramel-brown hair –regulation cut– was messy from vain attempts to sleep through the night, and his olive drab t-shirt was riddled with wrinkles. He'd only taken on an hour or two of restless slumber, opening his eyes briefly in the seconds before the young man sitting across from him shattered any illusion of tranquility.

"Hey, you, you're finally awake."

Covering his mouth, he yawned widely, then opened his tired eyes. He responded with a voice that was deep and groggy, like Stallone on Valium. "Awake? Would've been nice to actually sleep." He glanced at his analog wristwatch, wiping a few smudges away from the dial: 0624 local time. By his reckoning, there was about another hour left before the next rest stop, then on to the final leg of their rail journey through the port city of Fukuoka and on into Kumamoto.

The steady rumble of the train moving through the Japanese countryside lowered briefly in intensity as a long, steady section of track offered a smooth glide under the steel wheels. With it, a moderately loud snoring could be heard more clearly, coming from one of the bunks above.

He looked across to the one who had woken him up. With rectangular glasses glowing from the screen of his gaming laptop, Corporal Aono Oono appeared well-rested and in his usual good spirits, his hazel-green eyes full of the spark possessed by those gifted enough to run easily on several hours' rest. He was dressed similarly to his counterpart, as they shared similar uniforms from their academy. His blonde hair appeared a bright gold in the early morning light that glowed around the cabin window's roll-up curtains.

About his usual business, Aono was playing an MMO in a window with the volume low. On another part of his screen, his web browser was open with no less than ten tabs, his social media in his main view. Several chat boxes scrolled at a near constant rate with incoming messages and inanity.

The boys' eyes met briefly before Aono's attention was suddenly turned back to his device. He then smiled and lightly chuckled. "Aya says, quote: 'Lt. Roman is still a stupid smelly brat-face! Frown emoji, crying emoji, screaming emoji, knife emoji, heart emoji'."

At this, Senior Lieutenant Roman Hunter could only shake his head, cracking a smile and returning only half of the laughter. He picked up his cellular phone and tapped the display; seventeen unread messages, eight of them from Aono's younger sister. "Hah… She would say that. I knew she'd hate me for turning her down." He casually scrolled through, seeing messages of farewell from various students of Oarai's Sensha-dō team. The names that would flash by under his fingertips would coax an appreciative smile from him.

Aono dismissed the lieutenant's statement with a casual wave of his hand. "Relax, she'll get over it. She's always like that when she doesn't get her way." He said, stopping for a moment as though coming to a realization. "You… you do mean for the team, right?"

"…What?"

The blonde boy's eyebrows lowered suspiciously. "You mean you turned her down for the team, right? Not… something else…?"

Roman scrunched his face slightly and shook his head. "No, no! I mean, yes." He tried to think harder, but his brain was still adrift on melatonin. "The team, not the other thing."

The two stared at each other for a few moments, and it became clear that there was a gap in their communication.

"So… when you say that, you mean there is another thing?" Aono continued, his suspicion mounting. His fingers quivered above his keyboard as though ready to launch many inquiries online to a particular someone.

Roman processed this question for a moment, having trouble catching up. He finally made a connection and shook his head profusely. "I mean… I turned her down for gunner! There is no other thing!"

Aono's suspicions were not allayed, and his inquisitive stare only intensified, his eyes half-open like some sort of reptile. "Then why would you respond so strongly? You did get along well with Aya, now that I recall… Why else would she keep bothering me about you?"

In their minds, both could envision the enthusiastic, twin-tailed, bespectacled blonde sister in their tank during a match, scolding the brother to load faster while firing the cannon wildly with little provocation, incessantly teasing the commander in her off-time.

That shared vision would quickly diverge; in Roman's mind, he could see Aya's actions compromising the team and getting them subsequently nailed with an incoming shot. That in turn would contribute to an eventual withdrawal from Japanese Sensha-dō, and a humiliating walk of shame back to Blithe.

For Aono, he envisioned his commander returning the teasing, becoming ever more playful with her until eventually, like breaking a magic spell, he would pull her glasses off and marvel at her sudden cuteness; then a falling of cherry blossom petals; then a fast-forward to a swift marriage, followed by a cluster of children who looked exactly like Aya, tugging at their uncle's hair and hampering his active online social life with the babysitting he'd have to do while the commander would be absent with his tanking.

The sleeper cabin filled with the smell of mental gears grinding as both boys seemed to rabbit-trail. Roman leaned back, letting his head thump against the wall as he answered, exasperated. "Leave me alone. I'm flippin' tired, man…"

From the bunk above Roman's, a grumpy, nonverbal contribution could be heard, and the boys quieted themselves. It was the lethargic groan of Momo Kawashima, a girl whose sleep was crucially important to her sanity. She was not a light sleeper, but through her own snoring, the sound of the train, and the noises coming from Aono's laptop, the hushed and ultimately inane conversation between the boys had penetrated her subconscious like a knife, driving her personal annoyance meter a few notches into the green. Yellow was a mere sliver; more than a few offenses and she would be straight through red and go off like a raging bear.

Roman yawned again, then looked to the bunk above Aono's head. A vintage German Field Marshal's cap rested precariously on the edge of the bunk, but the bunk itself wasn't occupied. Someone had managed to avoid this most heartwarming of discussion topics. "Matsumoto. Where is she?" He asked.

"She went to wash and go for coffee."

"Coffee… coffee…" Roman murmured like a zombie as he found his way to his feet, feeling his joints pop as lactic acid shifted through his muscles. He took a moment to stretch his back and acclimate himself to the train's movements; unlike the ultra-fast Shinkansen that Japan was well known for, this train was purposefully slower. It was, however, one of the only reliable ways to transport a Panzerkraft team and their vehicle at once.

"Hey, if you're going, could you bring me something?" Aono asked, continuing with his onlining, fingers tapping away fluently at his keyboard.

Roman stepped into his boots, threw his charcoal gray duty shirt over his shoulders, and snatched his hygiene kit and green tanker's jacket from his duffel bag. He then threw a curt wave toward Aono before opening the door leading out into the train car.

The sound of the door opening, accompanied by the light shining in caused a further stirring from Kawashima's bunk. He looked back over his shoulder. "You'll be lucky if I don't bring you back a brick for waking me up, Private."

"Eh?!" Aono responded, loudly. This elicited a louder groan from Kawashima, combined with a fist punching the pillow; a warning of things to come.

The door was closed before things could go nuclear in the tiny cabin, and the lieutenant groggily headed aft.

Typically he was used to early mornings. Day in, day out for more years than he wanted to count at Blithe Military Academy, he'd been acclimated to a daily regimen of reveille at 0500, muster by 0545, physical training immediately after – everything a growing boy or girl needed to become an efficient drone – er, weapon. A soldier of the highest caliber.

At least, that's how it was at the start. Over the years and with enough hard work, he'd become one of the 'better examples' who would move up through officers' training, which did carry the perks of slightly less PT, and more coursework/reading. Slightly more dignity, to boot. Still up every morning at 0500. Such was the life of a cadet.

What was more, he was vice-commander of Blithe's 3rd Armored Cavalry, made up of no less than fifteen vehicle teams. This meant many late nights and early mornings developing strategies and working the logistics of maintaining the unit's capabilities, not to mention training both himself and his fellow classmates.

However, no reasonable human can go forever without decent rest, and on this particular morning he felt fatigue surging through his veins like molten lead. His last day at Oarai Academy had been filled with training maneuvers and gunnery practice, while the night was a festive one filled with food, drink, and music. The students there made a point of seeing him and his crew off with a celebration, saying long goodbyes to some of their own.

That was before he and his team had to hurriedly handle the logistics of loading their vehicle onto the train to make a long, overnight trek across most of mainland Japan to their next assignment: Kuromorimine Girls' Academy, somewhere off the coast of Kumamoto Prefecture.

Unlike with Pravda, his first hosts, the Kuromorimine school's Graf Zeppelin was unable to travel to meet Oarai's school ship, Zuikaku, at sea. Nor did the school deign it necessary to spare resources airlifting Roman's team to them.

Neither did Saunders – much to Roman's chagrin, as he'd heard quite a few things about the 'American' school with an entire airlift wing of their own. It would have been too easy for them to transport a single tank and its crew with a massive C-5, or even just a C-130. 'Waste of resources', or so he was told.

That, the train's infrequent stops, and the near non-stop prodding by curious passengers on the train had contributed to the team's overall lack of rest.

As he stood outside the door to the single washroom for their train car, he didn't enter, but stopped to look out the windowed door leading to the next car. Only, there wasn't another car, but a flatbed.

There she was, secured fast through the towing hooks with thick steel cables. The early morning sky was bright enough for Roman to make out most details of his beloved tank destroyer. He appreciated the flawless dark olive paint job that had been done by the automotive club back at Oarai. They had gone so far as to grind down many of the rough edges and polish the twin exhaust pipes to a shine. They'd even hand-painted the tank's name daintily, like a signature, onto the left hull plate in white: Ро́за. *(Roza)

A Soviet-built SU-100, the vehicle looked much like a T-34 from the rear. Up front, however, was a different story; per Bullpen regulations, the vehicle was a casemate. Seventy-five millimeters of frontal armor rose in a sharp fifty-degree angle to an enclosed roof, which was flat with exception of the commander's cupola. A robust hundred-millimeter cannon offered enough punch to knock out most German armor in 1944, and the vehicle itself was low and agile, well-suited for its role.

Allowing his brown eyes to refocus, Roman could see the reflection of his own face in the window, and quickly turned away. To him, he like death warmed over, and knew that had to be remedied.

Once he'd gone through a quick routine and straightened his regulation cut to perfection, he neatly buttoned up his uniform shirt, pocketed the aluminum tin that was his hygiene kit and made his way toward the train's dining car for some much-needed caffeine, tossing his jacket over his shoulders.

The dining car was welcoming, with classic jazz playing lightly over unseen speakers. Plush blue carpeting, which loosely fit the rest of the train's color scheme, ran through the center aisle. A few passengers were early risers, some seated at the bar, some at the booths along one side. They looked up only briefly to survey the cadet in gray shirt and navy-blue BDU trousers before returning to their breakfasts.

"Good morning." Roman spoke to one of the attendants behind the bar. "Espresso, please. Actually… make that a macchiato. And do you have any muffins back there?"

Riko Matsumoto, the blonde-haired historian commonly known as "Erwin", former commander of Oarai's Hippo team – aka Team Kaba – recognized her new commander's voice and looked up from her book. For the past half-hour she'd been absorbed, having received the book as a parting gift from her former Kaba teammates – to replace an older, worn-out copy she'd had for years and was in safekeeping back on the Zuikaku.

She studied Roman, her eyes tracing along his shoulders and back. She wasn't unfamiliar with him, as he'd spent a little more than a month at Oarai and had participated in numerous matches amongst her classmates, but she still found herself at odds with how to interpret him.

Lieutenant Hunter and others like him had come from a great distance to fundamentally change the sport in which she and her friends had found glory and friendship. The JSF, it seemed, had many tricks up its sleeve. Whether or not that made him an ally or a foe in the end would remain to be seen, despite how much fun she and her classmates at Oarai had had with the training.

Oddly enough, that fun came after she and several others at Oarai had voluntarily expressed interest in the new program coming to Sensha-dō. Anzu Kadotani, student council president and Miho Nishizumi, overall commander of the tankery team, had presented the JSF's proposed changes long before Hunter's arrival, while he and his team were still training with Pravda.

It wasn't because she was tired of her team or her school – far from it. She still couldn't figure out what possessed her to do it, but she'd gone through the motions of clandestinely signing up, sending her transcripts and performance records for review.

Perhaps it was because there had been no guarantee that things would progress so quickly; the Integrierte Ligen were only looking for potential candidates to strengthen their teams and even transfer schools if necessary. What she had not been expecting was for Lieutenant Hunter and Corporal Oono to arrive at Oarai with their tank destroyer and two vacant seats in the crew.

From there, a number of Oarai's students were rotated in and out of gunner and driver roles in the SU-100. To her surprise, Erwin had quite a knack for the gunner's role, despite her distaste for Soviet tanks and their weak optics in comparison to German vehicles, particularly the StuG III to which she was accustomed.

In the final week of Hunter's proposed stay, the official announcement was made by the student council who would officially join the visiting Bullpen team to their next assignment, and possibly further beyond – those two names, playing on repeat in her mind: Momo Kawashima and Riko "Erwin" Matsumoto. At that point, it was far too late to back out if she wanted to.

A tearful goodbye, joined with an air of stoicism only shared by Oarai's iconic team of history buffs was fresh in her memory. Erwin had to pack many of the things she would not be able to do without and prepared to venture out of her comfort zone.

It had been less than a day away from Oarai, and already she felt homesickness and a slight resentment as she watched Roman buying muffins and coffee. She would be taking orders, not giving them with Takako "Caesar" Suzuki to bounce them off. And she would be responsible for the effectiveness of her team's firepower. Under his command.

She bit her lower lip with those thoughts, and went back to reading her book, hoping that Lieutenant Hunter would just leave her be to enjoy the remaining bits of her familiar solitude.

After a few minutes, Roman turned around, his macchiato in one hand and a bag of tiny blueberry muffins in the other. Erwin, sitting by herself at her booth with her book, Afrika Corps jacket and distinctive fox-eared hairstyle made her rather noticeable.

Besides that, he'd come there to connect with his new gunner just as much as he'd come for some concentrated caffeine, so he wasn't going to be steered away just yet. He walked up to her table, the fittings of his unlaced boots chattering. "Guten Morgen, Marshal."

She paused, turning her gaze slowly back up to him from her book. A smirk curved her lips at his attempt at wit; not that she minded him addressing her as such. Still, he had to approach her, hadn't he? Of course, a direct assault! She thought. "Senior Lieutenant… Guten Morgen."

Roman nodded and motioned to her book. "Nice light reading, there. You know, that's part of the curriculum back at home."

"Is it?" She asked, lifting the book, and turning the cover to examine its title, as though she'd forgotten it – of course, she hadn't, but she felt like calling his bluff. "The Rise And Fall Of The Third Reich? Your academy is named after an American paratrooper, is it not?"

"Albert Blithe, Easy Company, 506th. That's right."

Her eyes narrowed in amusement as she crossed her arms. "Would your school really require something like this?"

"Sure. I figure it has something to do with, 'To defeat your enemy, you must know your enemy.' But… I'm pretty sure old Albert himself didn't write the syllabus. At any rate, we tend to be versed on history. Most of us, anyhow. Sun Tzu, Theodore Roosevelt, Andrew Jackson, Napoleon… even Julius Caesar. It is, after all, still a school."

Riko snickered to herself, further entertained by his answer. "Next, you'll tell me they had you read Mein Kampf."

"Seen it. Read it. Burned it – It's sort of a school tradition."

"Burned?" She responded, eyes widening in shock. "Those… those are valu… I mean, rare. Those are rare books!"

"Well, not the real copies auf Deutsch. We had photocopies, translated. The middle-schoolers read it, then the upperclassmen craft all the copies into a big papier mâché swastika. Then we set it up on the parade ground and light it up. I know, it's a strange image, but it never fails to entertain."

Her shoulders lowered as she laughed, releasing some of the tension that had built quickly at the mention of burning historical relics. "So it would seem. So it would seem, Lieutenant."

"Say, mind if I join you?"

She looked at the ample table space; despite her book and her coffee, which had gone untouched, there was more than enough room for him to sit down. Still, she felt slightly unsure at his request. She really, really wanted to keep reading, but felt intrigued enough to entertain him. "I don't mind."

He seated himself, placed his cup next to hers and opened the bag of muffins that he'd bought. They were rather small, each good for a bite or two. "Would you like one?" He asked, holding one out to her by the tips of his fingers.

She looked at the baked good, her stomach tingling slightly with temptation. "I'm fine. But thank you."

"Offer's open." He left the bag on the table and proceeded to take a bite, balancing the sweetness with a quick swig of his hot drink. His expression turned quite pleasant almost immediately as he felt the effects of the caffeine and sugar rejuvenating him. "So tell me… Erwin, is it? That's quite a historical figure to look up to. I'd like to know your thoughts."

Meeting me on common ground? Fine, then… let's test that mettle of yours. She thought before composing herself with an air of cockiness. "Field Marshall Rommel was a masterful tactician and brilliant leader. Truly, one of the greatest minds of his generation. He understood war and the cost involved. Had his peers a fraction of the brilliance, and the German industrial machine hadn't suffered from crucial flaws, things may very well have ended differently in the theatre of Europe."

"You think so? I know a number who would disagree, but it's said that victory for either side was never a guarantee. If Hitler had only stayed out of the Soviet Union… but he would still have the Americans and the Brits to deal with, wouldn't he?"

"Victory for the Wehrmacht would have been solidified in the campaign in Afrika. The Americans… without the help of weakened Britain, wouldn't have so successfully established footholds in Afrika, nor France." She expressed with a nod and a growing look of satisfaction to delve into the chosen topic.

Roman smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Pretty open-and-closed case you make, there. But then comes the overall question: What kind of world would we be living in, were the Nazis given full control of Europe? And what would that make men like Herr Rommel, instrumental in the creation of 'New Germany', as it were?"

Erwin closed her book and set it down on the table, picking up her coffee with a solid, unwavering hand. "It is valuable to view those fighting for their country as separate from the ideology of those in the higher echelon. The Desert Fox served his duty for Deutschland. Not necessarily for the Fuhrer himself."

"Herr Rommel didn't agree to the Fuhrer's atrocities, which is correct. And… if sources are correct, he paid the price. The point still stands: even if the Nazis had secured western Europe, they would still have to contend with the Soviets, who would have had even more time to prepare for an eventual invasion of the Motherland."

She took a sip of her coffee before answering, her resolve unwavering in her faith in the German war machine. "Some say the war wasn't decided by any single battle. But I believe that, strengthened by victory in Afrika, the Luftwaffe would have been more than a match for the Soviets. Had time not been wasted cleaning up the Italians' fumble with securing Greece, the Blitzkrieg could have reached Moscow long before that first winter."

"And then what? Could they have held it against repeated onslaught by angry Bolsheviks?"

Erwin simply chuckled. "Now we go into the realm of needing a crystal ball, Herr Hunter. Although if you would like, I could gather some research material. But we would be here all morning."

Roman laughed, nodding appreciatively as he picked up his cup as well. "Touché. You earn the right to wear that jacket after all, Ms. Matsumoto – Sorry, 'Erwin'. I think we're going to work well together. The Integrated Leagues don't admit non-thinkers; even less: stupid tankers."

With a tip, the two tapped their cups together. Erwin nodded in a similar fashion, and a quote came immediately to mind, which she relayed to him. "'Men are basically smart or dumb and lazy or ambitious. The dumb and ambitious ones are dangerous, and I get rid of them. The dumb and lazy ones I give mundane duties. The smart ambitious ones I put on my staff. The smart and lazy ones I make my commanders.'"

"Very nicely put, Marshal." Roman replied, taking another sip of his macchiato.

Erwin set her cup down, and finally giving in to temptation, took a muffin from the bag and proceeded to pluck pieces away to eat them.

"Using Herr Rommel's logic there, I imagine it makes perfect sense why I chose you and Ms. Kawashima to be a part of this new venture."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by a new voice. "You said my name?"

Roman and Erwin both looked toward the bar, where Momo Kawashima had somehow entered the dining car with neither of them noticing. Still wearing her Oarai uniform, the black-haired girl with the monocle looked as tired as Roman had, despite seeming to get actual sleep in the tiny, shared cabin. Her arms were crossed as she looked toward the lieutenant, dark rings under her eyes.

"Yes." Roman replied. "In fact, now that I have the both of you here, there's something we should discuss; rather, some things I should tell you both, while we're all still so new to one another." He looked to Erwin. "You don't mind, do you?"

Erwin shook her head, moving over in the booth to allow Momo to sit beside her.

"Hold on. I still need to pay for this." Momo fumbled with a small white purse, fishing for a way to pay for a tall, sugary iced coffee loaded with caramel, chocolate, and whipped cream; a stark contrast to the two at the table who had just recently concluded a chat about the triumphs and failings of the Axis.

"Don't worry about it. Just tell them to put it on my card."

"No." Momo mumbled in protest; yet the more she fumbled for her wallet, the more her anger manifested in her face by the second. She shuffled items more and more with increasing intensity. "It's just… where is it…?!"

"Perhaps somebody snuck in while we were asleep?" Erwin suggested, subsequently patting the pockets on her jacket.

"I doubt it; I think there was at least one person awake throughout the night." Roman answered, although he subconsciously found himself doing the same.

"No, no!" Momo insisted, shuffling more with her purse. "I had it when I left the cabin, it's just… Rrrgh!" Her frustration boiled over as her hands became increasingly frantic. She eventually thrust the purse away from her grasp, and it spun on its strap, landing squarely on her shoulder, just to taunt. Smoke almost seemed to puff from her ears at that point.

One of the attendants behind the bar who had witnessed this little moment of action stood still as a statue, not sure whether to interact or not. Roman raised a hand and motioned. "My tab, please."

Momo calmly reached up without looking, removed her perching purse, then picked up her drink and simply lowered her gaze as she took slow steps toward the table, seating herself. "Thank you."

Roman took a few moments for Momo to settle herself and get a long sip of her coffee, brushing the sticky crumbs from the muffin off his fingers before speaking. His tone shifted, more down to business. "Now then, ladies, this is our first official morning as a crew. In roughly four hours, we should be in Kumamoto, and meeting up with our new hosts. So before then, we should take the time to ask and answer any questions we may have for each other."

"If that's the case, shouldn't Corporal Oono be present as well, sir?" Asked Momo, seeming much more awake now that the sugar and caffeine was working its magic.

"Corporal Oono will be caught up eventually. Being that his sister is part of the Oarai team, and she has known you both for much longer than I have, I think he's good to sit this one out. So, fire away freely with your questions."

Momo continued to take the lead, exercising her former role as speaker of the student council to the letter. "I see. Then my first question is: will we always be required to stay in rooms together, sir?"

At this question, Erwin's eyes widened slightly, and she cast a sideways glance toward Momo, but otherwise kept her silence.

"Fair question. And the answer is no. If you girls desire your privacy, I'm sure that can be arranged once we are onboard Graf Zeppelin. From what I'm told, they run things rather efficiently there. No individual rooms like on Zuikaku. You two may have to share a room, but it won't have to be with us."

Erwin and Momo met this response with a nod and a slight look of relief. Neither of them would have been comfortable to have the same conditions day after day as they currently were on the train.

"I'll let you know, however, that make no mistake: we're going to be sharing a very cramped existence together in our tank. Hours, even days, depending on the match conditions. With some of the new modes that the JSF wants to implement, we may be out in the field much longer than you are used to, and having separate quarters will be impractical, in a manner of speaking.

"That being said, let's do our best to get comfortable with each other's habits and needs. We're going to be a lot like family moving forward. I expect all of us to respect each other and work as a solid unit, no matter the situation. If you're ever uncomfortable, speak up."

He looked at them both with a cold, unbending seriousness then, meeting both of their gazes. "Understand?"

"Yes sir." Each of them replied, slightly uncoordinated.

"I want no petty issues destroying our harmony as a team. And while we're on the topic, let's make this little thing clear: You two are under my command, but you are not my subordinates. Let's leave that 'Sir' stuff at this table from here on out. 'Commander', 'Lieutenant Hunter', or 'Roman' is preferred. Fair enough?"

They both nodded, Momo staring at her drink before taking another sip. "I apologize," she said, clearing her throat. "I assumed that since you're from a military academy, it would be respectful."

Roman shook his head. "Only Corporal Oono is required to do so, and even then, he and I keep things loose. But don't mistake that looseness for sloppiness; in front of other teams, I expect my team to be professional. And in the field, I trust you to do your jobs to the letter."

Erwin then raised her hand, and chose to take immediate license with addressing him. "Kommandant, that having been said, I think you were going to mention why we were chosen for your crew before Momo got here."

"Perfect timing on her part. You two have were kept in the dark about it, I know. But the decision wasn't made lightly."

He reached into a pocket on his jacket, and produced a notepad, which he flipped through until finding the information he needed. "I consulted with your former commander, Ms. Nishizumi, and she spoke highly of your talents. She gave rather detailed accounts of what you both have been able to accomplish under her."

As the two of them exchanged smiles and looks of pride, Roman ran down his list. "Both of you are familiar with casemate tank destroyers; Ms. Kawashima in the Jagdpanzer 38, Erwin in the Sturmgeschutz. Successful ambush and hit-and-run tactics, which are already hallmarks for Bullpen."

He then focused on Erwin, pointing at her with index and middle finger, like a gun. "Your team managed no less than seven confirmed 'kills' during your service with Oarai. You showed aptitude at Roza's controls in training, and on top of that, you have experience in intelligence gathering, which makes up a solid other half of what we will be doing in the field. I believe I'd be hard-pressed to find somebody better for gunner."

Erwin seemed more than pleased with this explanation, crossing her arms with an air of cocky self-satisfaction. "Well, then! I will do my best to keep that reputation!"

He then did the same for Momo, pointing toward her. "As for you, Ms. Kawashima, you've been part of the student council, dedicated to the cause of reviving and saving the Oarai program, and have a solid understanding of battlefield strategy and logistics. And you've been in every position in a tank outside of being a driver, a skill that you've shown you can handle. We can certainly build on that."

"Your information is correct, if not a touch understated." She replied haughtily, sweeping her hair over her ear. "I handled logistics for the entire program; assigning teams, allocating funds for upgrades, and coordinating transportation in between matches. Not only that, but I was the student council's PR officer."

Erwin cleared her throat and whispered. "You shared those responsibilities with Yuzu and Anzu, did you not?"

Momo bared one of her canines and shot a quick glare toward the blonde, but otherwise said nothing.

Roman smiled in a sly manner that bordered on creepy, especially as his tone changed to something far closer to predatory. "A lady with brains and tenacity. Very good. But most importantly, Ms. Kawashima… I really need those legs of yours."

For some reason, the entire train car seemed to go silent at that very moment; the train had hit yet another smooth stretch of track, the jazz music had come to a break, and all other occupants had halted their conversations, leaving Roman's statement hanging in thin air.

Erwin's mouth hung wide open. Momo had just been taking another sip of her drink, and nearly choked. Her pupils contracted to pinpoints, and said legs began to quiver as she contemplated whether to run away screaming or send the lieutenant into orbit by kicking him with all her might under the table. "You… you what…?" She coughed, clenching her teeth.

Roman chuckled at his success in ruffling Momo's feathers. He knew the risks to his personal safety, but couldn't resist, and her reaction was priceless in his book. "It's been said that you're an excellent dancer; thirty revolutions in a pirouette, I believe it was?" He followed with a subtle nibble of his bottom lip and hungry eyes. "I can make use of that kind of stamina."

Momo's face flushed beet red as her hands fumbled with her purse again. It may have been close quarters, so Erwin would likely suffer collateral damage, but pepper spray was certainly a thing she could find in a hurry. His words hadn't convinced her of anything other than the need to make him writhe on the floor. "Thirty-two." She growled, finding her desired self-defense canister – right next to her wallet, which to her shock had magically materialized.

He became rather animated, leaning forward out of his seat to gesture longingly toward Momo like an eccentric director of the stage, his fingers fluidly curling. "That stamina, that form, that poise…" He slapped his other hand onto the tabletop. "I want you to make Roza dance!"

She'd clicked the safety off the nozzle and was about to deal 2,000,000 Scoville heat units of pain but froze at the lieutenant's words and overzealous behavior. It took quite a bit of effort for her to arrest her motions, and her entire body trembled. The choker she wore around her neck looked like it was about to burst.

At that moment, all three looked down into the purse, seeing what was about to be unleashed. Erwin's eyes went completely white, and Roman went stiff, slowly tilting back into his seated position as though he were a wooden chair. "Er… okay, maybe I went a little bit too far with all that."

The trio were silent for a solid ten seconds or so, at least until noise from the train car seemed to flood back in, everything around them returning to normal. Momo quietly set her spray back to safe, picked up her coffee and sipped without a word. However, her hands were still shaking.

"Anyhow," Roman continued, readopting his earlier tone, "We won't always be on soil and mud. Urban environments are where we need agility, and the ability to keep the enemy guessing. And since the SU-100 can be taxing to drive… Momo, you are the logical choice for driver."

He helped himself to another muffin and took a sip of his drink, trying to blissfully ignore the fact that he'd come close to having scorched eyeballs from his flair for dramatic effect.

Erwin, recovering from a brief spell of catatonic shock, slowly elbowed Momo to get her to speak.

"Um… well then… yes." She stammered, a bead of sweat running down her cheek. "That would make a lot of sense. I believe the choice is… is adequate. Excuse me…"

Standing up, she left without further words, taking her coffee and purse, making a calculated yet smooth exit from the dining car.

Roman's body fell limp, and he turned his eyes up to Erwin with embarrassment. "I just messed up hard, didn't I?"

Erwin chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then resumed her earlier actions of picking apart a muffin. "No, I think that is normal for our Momo-chan. Besides, at this range, she would have hit me with that spray, not you."

Hearing this, he gravely nodded, then began to laugh. "Miho did mention something about that, come to think of it. She didn't go into specifics."

Erwin began to laugh as well. "She didn't?"

"No. She was oddly quiet about it. What's the story?"

With a grin, Erwin rapped her knuckles on the table while recounting the tale. "It was during our exhibition match; Oarai and Chi-Ha-Tan versus St. Gloriana and Pravda. Momo had a clear shot on Ms. Darjeeling's Churchill, yet somehow managed to hit a Crusader, twenty meters off target! It was airborne at the time, which makes it even more absurd!"

Roman's eyes bugged out, and his laughter grew louder. He'd seen footage of Oarai vs the All-Stars team, so he knew of this 'Darjeeling' she spoke of. "No way. A big, slow target like a Churchill Mk VII? Get outta here, it couldn't possibly have been that bad! That's just bad luck! Horrible luck!"

"No, it gets better!" Erwin insisted, grabbing various tabletop items and forming a quick representation of the battle on the tabletop. She shaped a street lined by toothpicks, stacks of sugar packets as buildings, and pieces of muffins representing tanks. "That wasn't the first time. Another match: Oarai had just reformed, and we had an exhibition against St. Gloriana."

"Side note, I want to see how you do with actual sand tables. This is impressive." Commented Roman, thoroughly entertained with the level of detail that Erwin was going through to illustrate one encounter.

"Now, to be clear, I wasn't there to witness it as we'd been eliminated, but these are from accurate reports. The Churchill and three Matilda tanks had commander Nishizumi cornered on this narrow street. They were the only team left mobile; or so we thought."

From around several stacks of artificial sweeteners that represented buildings came a nugget of blueberry muffin, comparatively smaller than the rest, screeching to a halt in between the cornered Panzer IV and the grouping of British tanks. The Churchill was a saltshaker.

"St. Gloriana's vehicles had come to a halt, taking aim at the Panzer IV. In came the student council with their Panzer 38(t). With a turret, at point blank range, in that cramped space… Momo fired and missed completely! And the four of them…"

She used her thumb and index finger to launch the tiny Panzer 38 off the table; it bounced off the opposing seat back and somehow, miraculously, landed right into her coffee with a *sploosh*.

Roman placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together, pressing his forehead against them. His shoulders then proceeded to shift up and down as though he were crying; however, it was hysterical laughter that ultimately came forth.

He was joined in this by Erwin, who was equally impressed by her own aim, and the two of them garnered looks by others in the train car who had been enjoying peace and quiet as their laughter became uproarious.

"You're killing me! You're killing me!" Roman howled. "That can't… Oh, now I know why Miho said nothing!"

"It was quite good that Momo switched to loader after a while. Otherwise, during the All-Star match, the Karl would have destroyed us all!" Cried Erwin, sinking back into her seat with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, that shot. It suddenly makes sense!" Roman choked out with hardly a breath left in his lungs, grabbing a tissue to wipe his eyes. His sides were beginning to hurt. "I always found that footage suspect!"

"That was Anzu's doing. She's quite a good shot!"

"'Lil Chomp! It had to be 'Lil Chomp…"

Breaking the mood, a musical tone sounded over loudspeakers throughout the train, and a pleasant male voice followed: "Good morning, passengers. This is your conductor speaking. The current time is 7:09 am, and we are approximately twenty minutes from our scheduled rest stop at Hiroshima station. For those who will be disembarking at Hiroshima, please be mindful to have all party members, luggage and personal items with you. For those who are continuing your journey with us on our Limited Express, the rest stop will be one hour long. After which we will continue non-stop to a brief change at the port of Fukuoka, and on to our end of service in Kumamoto. Please re-board the train within ten minutes of departure. For any assistance, please contact your nearest steward as soon as possible. Thank you."

The message was repeated once more before the loudspeakers went quiet.

"And to think, you would have lost your gunner before your first battle!" Said Erwin, cheeks still pink from the fit of laughter as she smoothed back her 'fox-ears' with her fingertips.

Roman shook his head, pushing his arms properly through the sleeves of his jacket. "We certainly can't have that! I'll have to be more careful with Momo from here on out. I can get a little carried away with my humor sometimes."

Erwin shrugged but was quick to reassure him. "Momo is fast to anger, but she doesn't hold on to it for long. A simple apology will go a long way. Or you could try to find something for her to do to take her mind off of it."

He nodded, finishing his drink and looking at his watch. "Duly noted. I appreciate the intel. So, what say we head back to the cabin and address the rest of the crew before we grab lunch in Hiroshima?"

She nodded in agreement, and after they had cleaned the mess that had been made of the table, the two headed back.

From the hallway, the sound of a guitar being strummed could be heard. Upon opening the door, it appeared that Aono had concluded his onlining and was now entertaining a less-than-amused Momo, who was seated at the foot of Roman's bunk and was in the process of typing a lengthy text on her cell phone.

Aono's fingers moved skillfully over the fretboard of a miniature-scale acoustic guitar, and he accompanied himself with a fairly weak, transparent vocal. "And it was the Hunter and the General… coming back with food…"

Roman chuckled before tossing the bag of muffins onto Aono's lap. He stepped aside to allow Erwin to enter before closing the door. "I trust you both heard that message just now?"

"Sure. Did." Aono concluded his improvised song with two short chords, then put his guitar aside. "About time, too! I'm almost out of battery power! I read that there are plenty of shops in Hiroshima though, so no worries!"

Momo only acknowledged with a quick look up, a smoldering gaze burning through her monocle before turning her attention back to her phone.

"Make that a tertiary objective, Aono. Most importantly, I want us all to be back on the train on time. We're expected to be in Kumamoto this afternoon, and I don't count on the detail from Kuromorimine waiting on us for longer than needed. With that being said, I think a proper breakfast is in order; mostly to welcome our new crew members. Compliments of the league."

"The league? Really? That's awfully generous of them…" Aono said with a hint of suspicion.

Roman disregarded the comment and looked toward Momo with a calculate plan in mind. "Ms. Kawashima, I believe you have a talent for organization. I'm going to leave this operation in your hands, so we don't have any mishaps."

Clicking away with the message she was typing, she didn't react – at least, not until a debit card was handed to her by the lieutenant. She eyed it cautiously, then him, then her phone, then the card once more before gingerly taking it and studying it. "This… this is…"

"PIN is on the back. Try not to get Kobe beef or something; I really don't want to fill out paperwork on account of something extravagant."

With a simple nod, Momo slowly placed the card in her purse before looking back to her phone. Her thumb hovered over the 'send' button, but before doing so, she decided to just close the device and put it away as well. "Very well. Leave everything to me."

She stood up, crossed her arms authoritatively and wrenched control of the discussion right out of Roman's hands. "As the commander said, I will handle gathering food for us. Aono, make real use of that laptop; I have places in mind for a menu. We will only have an hour to work with once we arrive in Hiroshima, so during that time, I will count on Matsumoto to gather any other supplies we may need, which I already have a list…"

Allowing Momo to do her thing, Roman sat back down on his bunk and shook the tiredness out of his head. Fatigue was still present despite the caffeine, and he felt the urge to go back to sleep and let the crew have the morning to themselves.

No, I can't do that. Can't slack off on them now. He thought. They're counting on me. Or they will be. I can't let them down.

While Momo continued with her harangue, Erwin caught the commander's attention from up on her bunk; now sporting her field cap, she gave him a confident smile and salute.

Glad she trusts me already. Two out of the three… but I need them all. I hope I haven't screwed up. He continued his inner monologue, saluting back and watching as Momo and Aono fussed over where breakfast would come from. We're going to make this work. We are going. To make. This. Work. I am not going back to Blithe in defeat. I won't.

Feeling sleep coming upon him, he decided to occupy his mind and picked up his cell phone. The little bubble on the mail icon beckoned to him: nineteen unread messages.

He proceeded to open each one, tracing his eyes over the names, text and images within, smiling fondly. To him, it oddly felt like flipping through a school yearbook:

Takako Suzuki (Caesar): Bona fortuna from team Kaba. Make us proud! To victory!

Sodoko (lil Helmet): Stay out of trouble! From the Public Morals Committee!

Miho Nishizumi: Thank you for your visit. I look forward to a match with you. Don't forget our agreement! p.s. Panzer Vor!

Noriko Isobe: Don't forget that rematch! I promise to go EZ on u. NOT! haha GG, GLHF

Saori Takabe: We've been trying to reach you about your tank's extended warranty! Jkjk it was so fun hanging w/you! Take care until next time…

Anzu (lil Chomp): Lemme know if Momo gives u trouble. I'll str8n her out. Hahaha good luck boyo! P.s. u'll need it lolol

Yukari Akiyama: Next cut is on my 'rents! GOOD LUCK. P.s. Not if I see you first… ;-D

Reira Nakajima: Give Roza a kiss, keep her oil topped and tracks on the ground! p.s. Next time let's drop that turbo! 650HP BOIIIII lol

Yuzu Koyama: Good luck. We're rooting for you and Momo! Don't listen to Anzu, ok?

Aya (Lil Sis): Heyy good luck! Stay safe ok?

Aya (Lil Sis): Hey.

Aya (Lil Sis): Y aren't you answering?!

Aya (Lil Sis): UR SUCH A BRAT =-( Im gonna blow up ur phone

Aya (Lil Sis): U should have made me gunner. U WILL REGRET IT =-(

Aya (Lil Sis): Answer me plz.

Aya (Lil Sis): R U MAD AT ME

Aya (Lil Sis): Ok ok ok just plz keep looking after my brother. Miss u both. 3

With the last message read, Roman chuckled and put the phone away, looking out the window at the shadows cast by the quickly moving trees.

I will, little sis. We'll give 'em hell. He thought, yawning. I just hope it's as much fun at Kuromorimine. Probably not, but we'll see…