Author's Note: Hi all, it's been a while since I last posted. My life has been very busy and hectic, as I'm considered an essential worker during the worldwide pandemic, so I haven't had time to write. Today's my first day off in over 10 days, so I took the opportunity to crank out another chapter for you all. Thank you everyone who has followed and favorited, and I hope you all stay safe and healthy.
Darjeeling awoke in the chill of pitch black infirmary hallway of the Ark Royal, an immediate urge to scream roaring to the forefront of her conscious thoughts before being quickly squashed. She was a prim and proper lady, not some shrill horror movie character. She sat up, triggering the automatic lights which flared into life, painfully searing her eyelids. After blinking away stars, she examined her surroundings. Lines of neatly made hospital beds stretched through the room, a fan softly humming to itself in the corner. The soft glow of the rising sun was already visible through the windows of the infirmary. Her phone sat on a small end table next to the bed. The first thing she noticed upon picking up her phone was the date. It was the day after the new acquisitions had arrived from the UK. She'd slept for almost a full twenty-four hours.
The next thing she noticed were the multitude of messages from all her friends wishing her a speedy recovery. Messages from Kay, Mika, Maho, Anchovy, Nishi, even the diminutive Katyusha had sent her "get well soon" messages. The gesture warmed her heart and put Darjeeling at ease, until an enormous CLANG reverberated through the halls. Darjeeling nearly jumped out of her skin, before striding to the windows to see the source of the noise.
Bright fluorescent white light streamed out of the open garage doors of the St Gloriana Sensha-Do maintenance facility. The flaring sparks from welding crews sprayed across the inside walls. Inside, she caught glimpses of new sheet metal being applied to a Centurion hull, the turret and gun of the Charioteer being calibrated and aligned, and a fresh coat of paint being applied to the Caernarvon. But what really drew her eye was the commotion that was in front of the garage doors.
The Super Conqueror was sitting in the lot in front of the garage, lashed to three Churchill ARVs in an image that oddly reminded Darjeeling of Santa Claus and his sleigh. Rosehip's Crusader Mk III was also tied to the whole consist, ahead of the ARVs, except it was off-kilter at an angle. Only one of the two tow cables was attached to the consist, the other was splayed across the ground, a vicious gash scraped into the dirt as well as the armor plate of the following ARV. In a flash, Darjeeling figured out immediately what had occurred. The Churchills had been towing the Super Conqueror out of the garage, but lacked the engine power. Rosehip had volunteered to put her tank's engine into the equation, but her energetic and impatient self had started to move too early. The sudden slack had caused the cable to snap, and that had caused the current predicament.
Darjeeling turned and exited the quiet infirmary hall, still dressed in her hospital gown, making a beeline directly for her dormitory room. She needed to change, and then she'd see what was up.
On the proving grounds, Earl Gray was furious. Her red uniform caught the light so she looked like she was a flame, dancing around the scene of the accident. All the while the stunned ARV crews and the rest of the Sensha-Do team stared in amazement, the huge 120mm barrel of the Super Conqueror hovering silently above everything.
"Rose-hip…." Earl Gray stomped around, putting extra emphasis into every syllable of her name. Her voice was a low hiss. Her beautiful blonde hair was frizzy, and her uniform was getting more and more wrinkled and unkept with each pass she made. Rosehip stared at the ground in front of her, on the verge of tears, sniffling slightly.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" Earl Gray roared, spittle flying from her mouth, the sudden noise causing everyone to jump.
"I…..I….." Rosehip stuttered out meekly…
"SPIT IT OUT, ROSEHIP!" Earl Gray pointed to the limp tow cable on the ground, before jabbing her finger into the large gash on one of the ARV's frontal plates.
"I…..endangered the life of my fellow teammates…...due to my o-own impatience and recklessness." Rosehip spoke softly, guilt clenching her voice. Earl Gray crossed her arms as presently, Darjeeling arrived but chose not to reveal herself, hiding behind one of the garage columns.
"Sumimasen, Earl Gray sama, sumimasen, senpais." She bowed both at Earl Gray as well as at the ARV crew, who bowed in return. The armor plate of their vehicle had done its job admirably, protecting them from the vicious bite of the snapped tow cable. Darjeeling stepped out from behind the garage column, striding slowly towards the two at the front.
"Well, well, well. Earl Gray, you've certainly whipped some sense into young Rosehip here. Now, where were we going?" Darjeeling said, walking up to the Super Conqueror, its new green coat of paint illustrious in the sunlight.
One of the mechanics spoke up. "We were going to start her up for the first time, give her a shake down, then you'd be able to use the vehicles in today's practice in preparation for the tournament. Are you sure you're okay enough to lead practice?" A quiet murmur spread amongst the assembled team members.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Rosehip, go wake Pekoe and Assam." A smile grew wide across Darjeeling's face as she rested a hand gently on the cold metal of the Super Conqueror.
"Let's put her through her paces."
An hour later the Noble Sisters were situated in their new vehicle in their respective positions. There was a slight smell of plastic and metal. Darjeeling in the commanders seat, Assam manning the huge 120mm L1A1 cannon, Pekoe sitting behind the gun breech, staring at the enormous shells she'd be expected to haul into the breech. Luckily there was a gun rammer fixed to the cannon, so she wouldn't have to push the shells into the breech. Pekoe also had the exceedingly important task of monitoring the in-vehicle boiling vessel, known in other nations as a teapot. Ruhuna sat down in the hull, staring at the myriad of control panels, dials and gauges ahead of her, testing the weight of the traverse levers.
Presently, a mechanic popped the drivers hatch open. She spoke to Ruhuna. "Engine is primed and ready for ignition. Idle is 7-800, redline 3,000. Don't increase revs above idle for 40 seconds, 1,500 for two minutes."
Another spoke to Darjeeling, who was sipping a nice hot cup of tea in the commander's hatch expertly prepared by Pekoe and the boiling vessel.
"Spray-on carbon coating has been applied to all interior surfaces. Full complement of 37 shells loaded. 29 AP and 8 HE. If you'd like the loadout to be different, please let us know going forward. Maximum elevation is +15, maximum depression of -7. Fuel tanks are full." The mechanic got off the tank and strode the minimum safe distance away.
Darjeeling drained her tea cup and handed it to Pekoe. "Ruhuna, start her up."
Ruhuna dutifully flicked the ignition switch on her instrument panel. The whine of the fuel pump and the gurgle of gasoline filled the hull before the starter motor chugged into action. On the third crank, the Meteor M120 V12 engine caught and roared into life, a healthy black cloud of exhaust smoke billowing from the stacks. To Ruhuna's relief, the RPM gauge settled nicely at 750 as the oil and coolant began to circulate. They slowly rolled down the practice field, a fleet of Matildas shadowing them. The sight made Darjeeling's spirit soar, as Assam slowly spun the turret in a full circle and got to grips with the weapon controls of the massive L1A1 cannon.
A minute later, the engine temperature light went green, and Ruhuna picked up her radio set. "Ma'am, shall we stretch her legs?"
"Go ahead!" Darjeeling's smile grew as Ruhuna mashed the accelerator to the floor, the big Rolls-Royce engine thundering to redline. The crisp wind ruffled her blonde hair as soon the Super Conqueror caught up and passed the group of Matildas. Earl Gray was right. With a tank like this, there was no way they could lose.
Presently, they came to a firing position. The tank stopped, and five seconds later the microswitch tripped, allowing Assam to maneuver the gun with her controls again. Pekoe lifted a 120mm shell from the turret floor with much effort, her face turning red before finally heaving the heavy object over the side of the breech, whereupon the gun rammer did the rest and shoved the shell into the gun. Pekoe fell back against her seat, exhausted. She made a mental note to call Nina and Alina from Pravda later, to ask them for tips on how to load large caliber shells without overexerting herself.
Darjeeling spoke over the radio to Assam. "Your target is T-44. Distance: 500 meters. Wind: SW at 12 knots. Correct the gun and engage at your discretion."
Assam's delicate fingers flew across the controls of the L1A1, manipulating it to follow her every command before she was confident the shell would meet its mark. After a tense 20 second adjustment period, she pressed the trigger. An enormous explosion occurred, propelling the shell out of the barrel at a speed approaching 1.2 kilometers per second, whereupon it struck the T-44 in the turret. The white flag dutifully ejected from the offending vehicle, indicating it had been knocked out.
"Great shot, Assam. Your next target is that ARL-44. 600 meters-"
Before Darjeeling could even finish, the air itself was shattered by the largest explosion any of the St Gloriana team had ever heard with the exception of the Karl-Gerat. A stack of trees almost a kilometer behind the Super Conqueror was flattened by the noise, and the ARL-44 simply disappeared, its turret flying off like a cork high into the sky, the hull buckling and bending before falling into a crater created by the sheer force of the blast. The echo bounced off the shimmering sea for what felt like hours.
Darjeeling popped her ears. "What in the….." The rest of her crew popped their hatches as well to examine the scene in front of them. The ARL was simply gone, reduced to a pile of twisted metal sitting in a hole in the ground. A slight rumbling drew their attention. It seemed to be coming from that collapsed stack of trees. Assam dutifully traversed the Super Conqueror's turret around so it was facing the rear, over the engine deck.
Through their binoculars, they could see Earl Gray's triumphant figure peeking out of the commander's cupola of the FV4005 Stage II, the barrel of the 183mm gun steaming.
