Chapter 3 - Hard as steel

14th February, The Tea Garden heading north, 12:22 PM

The three girls in command of St Gloriana's Sensha-do team walked together along a smooth stoned pathed path heading towards the tank garges. Some of the trees were beginning to bloom already, with the light constant breeze of the ships movement, blowing into their faces.

Sarah was never really close to Orange Pekoe. Even before her relationship with Darjeeling. Out of the main three in the of St Gloriana, she was most closest to Assam. With Darjeeling in a close second. She never held an animosity against Orange. But not having really gotten to know her on a personal level which didn't really help. She just had to keep her professional facade on at all times around her. She thought to herself any time she was around Pekoe.

"So ladies as we are on our way to the garage with all our tanks. Is there anything we can do for team building?" Orange Pekoe asked. Looked to Sarah then her other vice Rukuriri.

"It's quite simple really. A fresh start requires a fresh lick of paint. Painting the tanks would help build up some team spirit," Rukuriri said pointing out as a couple of the tanks were starting to look more like rust buckets than Sensha-do tanks.

"I sadly must disagree with Rukuriri. A tank is better than any other vehicle for cross country because of its tracks," Sarah pointed out. "Have you seen the tension of my tracks? And the state of the road wheels? Even your Matilda isn't looking fresh Rukuriri. Orange I suggest just a maintenance day. Just to fix the odd bugs with our tanks. Especially the Cromwell; it needs some attention"

"Well English that's no fun," Rukuriri said rather light heartedly. "And besides," she added "we need to think of the whole team not just the fast tanks."

"I would agree yours is a little more fun," Sarah accepted to her companion. "But it has to be done you know."

"We could always paint your Cromwell pink for target practice or even a shiny gold" Rukuriri teased.

"Gold would be preferable. I would be able to dodge most of your shells anyway Rukuriri." Sarah added as a light jab back.

"Alright girls, thank you," Orange Pekoe said ending the jokey debate Rukuriri and Sarah were having as the garages came into sight. "Painting it is."

"But why? Rukuriri can't even use a paint brush. It's an expert tool that she hasn't been qualified for," Sarah added, her part of James sassayness kicking in.

"Yer yer." Rukuriri said rolling her eyes. Rurukriri then made a small smile. "As Darjeeling would say…Do you know this saying?" She said in a prefect copy of Darjeelings voice. "Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much."

"Thanks Rukeeling, I'll bear that in mind." Sarah added back as she look from Rukuriri back to their destination.

As they got within shouting distance of the garages, faces became clear. All the girls, every crew member was there all in a perfect line wearing their cream coloured overalls, stood waiting to hear what Orange had to say to them.

"Welcome all," Orange Pekoe started off addressing the line. "Today's tasks are to paint your own tanks. Also as a little treat I'm allowing you to be able to paint a small logo like a flower or a sword or similar. Maybe something historical like the desert rats' division insignia. And if you wish you may give your tank a name as well. I would recommend placing them on the rear of the tank or side and not too big to give away your position to the enemy. Everything you need is in the storage lockers; Churchills on the right side of the garage, Matildas on the left. And Crusaders at the back. Ladies have fun and be creative." Thus dismissed, the crews fell out and slid open the huge wooden doors which creaked and moaned as they moved apart from each other. The crews entered the hangar and were reunited with their battered old friends.

Sarah moved over to her crew:Peppermint her small but strong loader. Honeybush the Rosehip personality clone who was her driver. And Jasmine Pearl, her dependable and caring friend who had helped Sarah so much when she arrived at St Gloriana all those months ago.

"So what should we do?" Honeybush asked the group.

"I want to do the 9th Armored division. It's a Panda and it's cute," Jasmine said, showing it on her phone to the gang.

"Boring! I like the red eagle like the 4th Indian Infantry Division!" Peppermint instantly threw in.

"I'll let you guys decide I'm really not fussed to be honest," Sarah said bluntly, moving towards the Cromwell near the back of the garage with her crew following behind her nattering away about what to paint. "Our tracks are more important than how our tank looks - I'm going to have a word with Orange Pekoe."

Sarah stalked over to the diminutive orange-haired girl who was checking things off a list of a clipboard.

"Orange, I need to talk to you about our tracks" Sarah began. Orange Pekoe looked up from what she was doing.

"What about them?" she asked, sounding a little exasperated.

"They need some work and while the others are painting I thought that…"

Orange Pekoe cut her off. "No English, I know what you're going to say and I can't have that. This is a team-building exercise to restore some normality and pride in the team. I can't have your tank and crew being treated as a special case."

"I'm not saying that…" Sarah began, feeling put down.

"We have to work together as a team," Orange Pekoe went on. "I know what you're saying about track maintenance and I do understand; but it's not for tonight. As a commander, when I make a decision, I need my two vice-commanders to back me up together, not bicker and argue. This dual vice-commander idea is new, and I need to make sure it works. I can't have you and Rukuriri doing opposite things. Come on, we're not BC Freedom!" she added with a small smile, trying to make a joke to get Sarah on side.

"I get that, it's just…" Sarah flustered.

"That's my decision - painting please Miss English. Oh, which reminds me; the tins of Number Nine Olive Drab for the Cromwell are Number Three basement, not up here." Orange Pekoe pointed to a plain door that Sarah knew led down to the basements under the hangar, although she had never been down there. With Orange Pekoe giving her final word on the subject there was little more Sarah could do other than obey the instruction to forego the important maintenance and proceed with the painting.

"I also think, after practice today, you should apologise to Rukuriri. I know it was only a jokely argument but I don't want things to escalate," Orange Pekoe told her. "And before you ask; I shall be asking her to apologise to you too," she added.

Sarah sighed and nodded.

"Good!" said Orange Pekoe, sounding more cheerful. "Now… we'll all get on with this together. How about you get a tin of Number Nine Olive Drab for the Cromwell?"

Orange Pekoe left her and Sarah made her way over to the grey metal door. She was still feeling bitter about being overruled. She noticed Rukuriri skulking nearby but chose to ignore her as she must have been trying to copy the Cromwell's new logo which was now decided to be the pegasus logo of the 1st and 6th airborne division. The girls moved off to get the brushes as Sarah went to get the base green paint from downstairs.

"The tanks need to be fixed, we need to practice. Not painting, like we are in baby school," she mumbled under her breath. She opened the door and stepped inside onto a short landing with concrete steps descending into darkness ahead of her. Seeing a light switch to her left, she flicked it but only the furthest light in the basement came on. The stairs remained in darkness. She gave it two more futile flicks before accepting that only one light in the basement was working.

"Great!" she said sarcastically to herself, still in her bad mood from earlier. She began a slow trudge down the dark staircase towards what looked like the paint locker at the far end of the cavernous cellar.

She was only halfway down the steps when she felt her ankle snag on something as she put her right leg forward. The next thing she knew she was falling fast, unable to stop herself. In a twinkling of an eye she had pitched up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, shocked and confused with a burning agony emanating from her left leg. She was also aware of a voice that was screaming. As the pain started to overwhelm her, she realised that the voice was her own.

15th February, Florence Nightingale hospital , 14:00

The people in white long coats, clipboards in hand. The smell of pure sterilisation. The St Gloriana hospital was like many others around the world. Darjeeling walked alongside a doctor called Dr. Ishikai as they had a small conversation about Sarah's state. They arrived at the light wooden door number with the number 27 in a round number plaque on the front of the door.

"So as I was saying we had to use 'calming drugs' throughout the time she has been here. I know some people have a fear of hospitals. But this, this was something else… related to some sort of past trauma maybe?" Dr. Ishikai inquired.

"Thank you doctor. I'll make sure she is looked after," Darjeeling said, avoiding the question about Sarah's past. She opened the door just before looking back at the doctor.

"Nosocomephobia is the fear of hospitals," she said as she entered the rather dull room and closed the door behind her. It was again like so many hospital rooms around the world; a chair for a visitor or two, the patient in the bed, and a heart monitor making its rhythmic beats.

Darjeeling looked over to what must have first seemed like a sleeping girl. Sarah was lying in a hospital bed with her left leg hanging above the bed in a broad sling. There were various other slings and stirrup type devices attached to her leg and foot, each connected to weighted ropes, which were all employed in keeping her leg held at exactly the right position. The bits of her leg that didn't have medical appliances strapped to them were covered in bandages. She was wearing an unflattering hospital gown and her hair was a mess but she at least looked peaceful.

On moving a little closer to her, Darjeeling could see her face forming into a light smile. Sarah was lightly nodding her head as if she was listening to music, although of course none existed in the room. "Ah it's you... why do you always look soooooo beautiful... he he." Sarah muttered in a rather drunk sounding tone, her little giggle bringing a little life to Darjeeling's.

"You know Sarah your eyes are closed." Darjeeling said sitting next to her bed. "How would you know it was me?" she queried.

"A doctor doesn't wear heeled boots... he he that would be funny to see a doctor in those boots..."

"How are you Sarah? Any pain? Any anything?"

"Darjeeling! You are always perfect. You know. Just like listening to you is like art to the ears..." Sarah said with slow, relaxed breaths, as if it was a day at the beach. "... like your sayings. They really speak to me in such a deep way..." she added. "Like the one about the servant. You know..."

"Do you mean 'I'd rather be a poor master of my own fate than a rich servant of someone else's.' Is that the one?"

"Mmmmmmm yes... yes."

Darjeeling looked at Sarah's face still bobbing up and down eyes closed. "Can you remember what happened? Do you want to know your injuries?"

"I remember falling… flying... I have no injuries just setbacks or something like that," Sarah murmured.

Darjeeling just had a look of the purest 'why am I wasting my time here?' expression all over her face. Getting through to Sarah in this trance was never going to happen. "It's just like talking to Mika," Darjeeling muttered to herself.

Darjeeling looked down at Sarah's arm with the clear tube taped in place, administering this drug to her.

"Sorry Sarah, the doctor said I might need to do this" she said quietly. She switched off the drug supply, wanting to speak to the real Sarah Alexander. She noticed the first difference straight away. Sarah's eyes opened showing pupils as dinner plates which rapidly began to decrease in size. Her eyes appeared to be able to focus more and they moved around the room. The heart rate monitor beeps became more frequent.

"This... this..." Sarah muttered.

Darjeeling grasped her hand. "Yes, you're in a hospital" She could feel Sarah's hand already sweating intensely. "Now listen Sarah you are fine. You are fine and will be fine. You are under my supervision. Nothing and I repeat nothing bad will happen to you," Darjeeling firmly but lovely stated.

"You can't know that..."

"See this?" Darjeeling pointed to the tap by Sarah's arm. "I can put this on again and you can go back to la la land or..." she looked dead into Sarah's eyes. "... you can hear what I have to say and tell you everything that you have wrong with you so the doctors can fix you. So what will it be?"

Sarah wanted to cry but her body just wouldn't, she shivered for a little moment or two. Then answered. "What happened to me?"

Darjeeling explained how Sarah had been rescued from her horrendous fall in the basement and rushed to the St. Gloriana hospital. She omitted the parts about Sarah's terror and distress at being in a hospital building again as she did not want to worry her girlfriend any further.

Sarah was just bamboozled by this information. She had lost all track of time. She didn't know if it was the day or night, or even if it was the same day or the next. Fighting against the fear and pain, she listened to Darjeeling's explanation and then tried to think of something light-hearted and witty to say, but couldn't. "It bloody hurts!" she eventually settled on. Not only was there pain from her leg, but also various other bumps, scrapes and bruises from her plummet down the concrete stairs.

"Well… I'm afraid it will for a bit" Darjeeling said with a weak smile. "But remember, 'there are no gains without pains'. You did quite a number on your leg it appears."

"How bad is it? Honestly? I don't recall anyone telling me anything! Oh, I'm so confused" Sarah complained.

Darjeeling knew all about Sarah's condition. When Sarah had first transferred to St. Gloriana, she had been asked to provide the details of someone, ideally her next of kin, who could have access to her medical records if necessary. With her father and brother on the other side of the planet, it wasn't much good specifying them, so it had been agreed that Darjeeling would stand in for Sarah's next of kin. As the head of the Sensha-do team of which Sarah was a part, it seemed to make sense. Now that they were involved in an altogether more intimate relationship it made even more sense. Sarah was glad that Darjeeling could be told information about her condition that would otherwise have been kept confidential.

Darjeeling cocked her head to one side and gave a half shrug. "Of course I'll be honest" she told her girlfriend. She pointed a slender finger at Sarah's suspended leg. "You broke your ankle; and your shin here…" She indicated a spot quite high up. "…and you shattered your knee too. On top of that you also tore your ACL – your anterior cruciate ligament, to use its proper name. The surgeons have put you back together though!" She smiled at Sarah. Sarah just looked distraught.

"Darjeeling… why am I here?" Sarah asked, nervously looking around her.

Darjeeling sighed, knowing that Sarah had been concussed and sedated while in hospital as well, so she was undoubtedly still so confused.

"As I said, you broke your…"

"No, Darjeeling, why am I in hospital?" Sarah cut her off. "I don't like hospitals… I… I" Sarah started to show signs of panic once again.

Darjeeling was no psychologist, but knowing what Sarah had gone through; seeing her brother die in a hospital room clearly had a profound effect on Sarah and had obviously given her some sort of phobia. She bent over Sarah and hugged her, and, after a furtive glance to see if there was the slightest chance that anyone might be looking, kissed her on the lips. The two of them were not quite confident about making their relationship openly public yet. She then embraced her again, comforting her injured friend.

"Shh… shh… it's alright, I'm here. Nothing can happen to you" Darjeeling soothed. Her touch seemed to restore calm to Sarah's body, although her expression still looked worried.

"When can I get out of here? When?!" she quizzed Darjeeling.

"The doctors tell me they will put your leg in a plaster cast tomorrow, and you should be out of the hospital in about a week."

Sarah was quiet while she digested this information. It didn't sound at all good.

"I can't be here for days!" she protested. Then something else occurred to her. "A p-plaster cast?" she finally stammered. It would be the first time she had worn such a thing.

"Yes, you know, like Rosehip was in until recently" Darjeeling soothingly explained. "Although yours will be longer, over your knee as well, up this gorgeous-looking thigh of yours…" she said flirtingly. Despite her situation, Sarah couldn't help but feel a warming giggle well up from within her.

"Aw, that's going to suck big time! How am I going to train in the Cromwell?" she moaned. "That will be really awkward with a plast…"

"At this moment in time, it's best not to think of Sensha-do" Darjeeling said, waving her hand to indicate to Sarah to forget about her Sensha-do worries. This, however, just caused Sarah to revert to her previous concerns.

"I don't want to stay here for a week Darjeeling. I can't! Please get me out of here!" she begged.

"They will take care of you here. You said it yourself; it will be hard for you to manage with your leg in a plaster cast so the doctors want to keep you here for a bit" Darjeeling patiently explained in a soothing voice.

"I don't…" Sarah beckoned her in closer "… don't want to…" she said in a strained whisper. Sarah's usually confident face began to crack in front of Darjeeling as she finally began to weep, making Darjeeling's heart lurch. Darjeeling had only ever seen this happen once before, when Sarah had been looking at her voicemails. It was different in a way as she didn't look scared for her own well being from being in a hospital. But more of guilt. Darjeeling just watched, knowing she couldn't do anything to really help. She just stroked Sarah's hair.

"I did have… one idea..." Darjeeling interjected slowly. "I wondered… well... no, it's silly… but, what about if you moved in with me?" she said eventually.

The words hit her slowly through her barrier of emotions. As they sunk in Sarah took a deep breath. "Move in with you?!" Sarah asked, feeling a little confused.

"Yes!" Darjeeling said. "As the head of the Sensha-do team, for some reason I have a suite of rooms, bigger than the usual student accommodation. 'Rank has its privileges' it seems. Oh, I know I have handed over to Orange Pekoe; but I've kept the rooms until I graduate. I couldn't possibly move out while I have all this studying to do!" Darjeeling explained in her roundabout style.

"But…" Sarah mumbled.

"That way, I can be on hand whenever you need anything. I'm sure I can be an excellent nurse! After all, 'when love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece'." Now that Sarah was interested in the idea, Darjeeling seemed to be very much looking forward to the idea of being Sarah's nursemaid.

"Well, I…" Sarah tried to say. When she thought about it, however, it would be very hard for her to look after herself if she was living alone in her student room.

"I have a big living room, a bedroom with a proper en suite bathroom, and a reasonably large kitchen" Darjeeling explained to Sarah. "You will have to sleep in my bed though, as it's the only one."

"If I am sleeping in your bed, where are you going to sleep?" she asked innocently.

Darjeeling simply looked at her and grinned. "Just rest now, okay?" Darjeeling's hand fell onto the tap onto Sarah's arm, twisting it to turn the flow of drugs back on.

20th February - Darjeelings apartment

"Are you sure you're alright?" The overly motherly tone of Darjeeling could be heard heading down an empty corridor with a door right at the end.

"Yes I'm fine."

"Just say if you need help."

"I don't need help; I'm doing fine."

"Now careful with the door – here, let me…"

"Darjy! Will you stop fussing like some sort of mother hen?! I'm fine!"

Sarah was hopping along on a pair of crutches provided by the hospital towards Darjeeling's apartments, accompanied by the lady of the apartment herself. Darjeeling was being particularly over-protective and, while Sarah could tell that she meant well, she was finding it a bit embarrassing. However, they had made it thus far without incident and now Darjeeling was unlocking the door and ushering, fussing and generally getting in the way as Sarah hopped inside.

"You settle yourself on the bed my little teacup!" Darjeeling said. Sarah was surprised to learn that she now had her own term of endearment. "I have a revision lecture in fifteen minutes, so I will have to run along. You take it easy and I will be back later; then I'll cook us some dinner, how about that?"

With a quick peck on both of Sarah's cheeks, Darjeeling was gone, leaving Sarah alone in the apartment. It occurred to her that she'd never been in Darjeeling's rooms before. She was also slightly concerned about what to expect from Darjeeling's promise of cooking dinner; both Assam and Orange Pekoe had warned Sarah not to let Darjeeling into the kitchen under any circumstances.

Sarah was happy to take Darjeeling's advice and flop down on the bad to rest her throbbing leg, but Darjeeling hadn't actually shown Sarah where the bed was. Nonetheless, it wasn't hard to work it out; Sarah opened the first door on her left and found it to be the bedroom. The other door she could see was presumably the small kitchen, and at the end of the short corridor was the open living and dining area, with what looked like large windows letting in plenty of light. Sarah was keen to explore and the living area looked very inviting from what she could see of it, but the pain in her leg told her this wasn't the time. Also, using crutches was much harder work than it first looked, she had discovered.

She hopped into the bedroom and immediately saw a strange sight. At first she was a bit surprised, but then burst out laughing. On Darjeeling's bed was a large flat pillow, laid along the length of the bed, resting up against the wall. It was white, with an almost life sized image of Darjeeling herself printed on it. The printed Darjeeling was wearing her red tank uniform, although without the boots, and looking slightly seductively back at the onlooker.

"What the Hell?!" Sarah asked herself. She was aware that merchandise relating to the famous Sensha-do teams was produced, some even featuring the commanders personally, but she had no idea that Darjeeling would have this fan object in her own bedroom. She found it vaguely amusing. Looking around, she also spotted about a dozen collectable Darjeeling figurines, all identical.

A series of plastic figurines was produced by the Sensha-do Federation marketing department for every tournament, and quite a few fans and players alike had collections. Sarah was no exception, although she wasn't a serious collector. She owned one of Earl Grey, Miho, Maho, and one of Mika, the commander of Jatkasota High School, which she was particularly pleased with as it was rare. Orange Pekoe had a much more extensive collection, including older commanders of past tournaments. She even had one of Shiho Nishizumi. Everyone in St. Gloriana, however, had a Darjeeling figurine. Sarah couldn't remember where she had got hers from; there were simply millions of the things about the place it seemed. Sarah now suspected that Darjeeling herself might be the source of this infestation of toys.

Still chuckling at this idea, Sarah eased herself down onto the bed and rearranged some of the pillows (not the full length Darjeeling one!) so they propped up her injured leg. Realising that she was going to have a lot of time on her hands for quite a while, she settled back, pulled out her phone, and began to compose an e-mail to her dad to final tell him in person that she was fine and Darjeeling would be looking after her.