The Legends Still Live On

Bogen Siebundzwanzig-komma-ein: Extras Neun und Zehn

Kapitel Fünfzehn: Mein eigenes Santa

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"Hey, tovarishchi…" Ivan the short-statured I-16 pilot began, glancing to his fellow comrades seated around him. "Just curious, but how long did your belief in Santa Klaus last?"

Katyusha stopped her walk-around of one of Pravda's courtyards upon hearing what Ivan Grozny said. Ivan Grozny, or Ivan the Terrible, was by now a common, sarcastic nickname for the diminutive Ishak pilot, as Katyusha had flown into many a huge fit of rage due to something terrible and unfortunate happening because of him. The short-statured Russian tanker swore he was the living representation of bad luck.

But Katyusha stopped ever the same behind a hedge just to listen in for a bit, out of idle curiosity. There on the benches were Ivan and one of his plane's ground crew, Igor, Katyusha believed his name was. In addition, there was Nina and Alina, which the diminutive blonde idly thought as being appropriate company, as those two girls were also often responsible for some of the bad luck plaguing Pravda.

"I was discouraged from believing in Santa growing up," Igor responded with a tone lacking any emotion whatsoever. His face was drawn in a similar way.

"Bakh, that's because your parents are still Soviets at heart," Ivan scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal. "They're even more hardheaded than the armor on your tank!" He turned his head to address Nina and Alina partway through.

Igor inclined his head in acknowledgment. Nina and Alina both looked between everyone there with a few soft huffs of laughter escaping them every now and then from Ivan's little joke. Katyusha rolled her eyes at the cheesiness.

"Alina? What about you?" Ivan nodded his head to her after his prompting.

"Akh, khmm…" Alina hummed, leaning forward and resting her head on her fist in thought. "Actually, I can't really remember..." She raised her head again and sat up, looking to everyone else. "I've believed in Santa Klaus for such a long time that I can't pinpoint exactly when I had started believing in him."

Katyusha had heard enough and decided to continue her walk as she came around the hedge she was standing behind. The distinctive clicking of heels – her own – echoed against the ground as she walked near the foursome of naivety.

The sound of Katyusha's walking caught the attention of the four on the benches, and upon turning to see what was making the sound, dread filled them.

Nina quickly beckoned them all with her hand to stand up, and all four stood up hastily in line, each with a foot-stomp of acknowledgment and a salute to Katyusha as they stood at alert. The Russian tank commander altered her walk so she slowly paced before them all, gazing upon each of them.

"Tovarishch Kapitan! Kha-kha…" Nina acknowledged with a highly intimidated grin from just being in the great Katyusha's presence. A nod from the short-statured leader of Pravda had them all dismissing their salutes and standing at ease. "What brings you here?"

"Just checking to see if you all broke something else yet," Pravda's leader flippantly responded as she continued slowly pacing before the foursome of misfortune, crossing her arms and looking all high and mighty. She knew that the four of them had no idea she was just listening in on them a minute ago, judging by their panicked reaction to seeing her, but she decided to play dumb and test their integrity. "What were you all just talking about?" She raised an eyebrow with her question.

"Akh, well we were just discussing how long each of us had believed in Santa Klaus! Kha-kha…" Nina reported, still trying to be nice and thoughtful, though she looked suitably nervous as well after their leader's blatant criticism of them all.

No one else bothered speaking up, fearing Katyusha's wrath if they were to say something wrong. So instead they all silently agreed that Nina would take the flak.

Nina swallowed thickly and noted her dear Kapitan was still staring at her like she was an idiot. "B-but of course Santa Klaus does exist, right, tovarishch Kapitan?" she stammered out, feeling like she was due for another trip to the gulag.

Katyusha stopped and stomped one of her heeled feet, frightening the others into not speaking. "Don't act stupid!" she sharply retorted as her hands came back down to her sides, clenching into fists. "Of course Santa Klaus exists!" The diminutive Kapitan brought a hand up to gesture to herself. "I've even seen him with my own eyes!"

Bringing her hand back down, Katyusha launched into a story as she paced before the foursome of misfortune again, "It was just last year, too. I remember it clear as crystal. The night before rozhdestvo, I was sleeping out by where the stockings hung, but in the middle of the night I felt someone's presence and awakened. I was groggy due to just waking up, but I remember seeing someone slinking out of the room. Whoever it was had been wearing Santa's typical red and white fluffy garb, but I distinctly remember him having really blonde hair. He also wasn't fat at all, actually looking kind of average in his build. But what I remember the most was the stench of grease, and not grease like you would find after cooking meat. No, this grease had an oily smell to it as well. It reminded me of the hangars whenever maintenance is going on. Now, I didn't follow him since I was way too tired to do much of anything, but after turning my gaze from the exit I remembered seeing a gift placed beside where I was. I opened it up next morning and got these." The Kapitan lifted one of her feet to show off the dark green heels she had gotten as a gift. They added precious, precious centimeters to her height, and went well with Pravda's uniform, as well.

Ivan, Igor, Nina, and Alina all knew exactly who Katyusha's personal Santa was, but they remained silent ever the same, just to avoid spoiling who it was. Their faces all held faint traces of amusement from their Kapitan's strong belief in her particular Santa.

At the other side of the courtyard, observing from behind a hedge, was Sasha. "Blyad'!" he hissed out a curse. He tapped his left ear, where a small headset rested. "Tovarishchi, I've been compromised…"

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Part of Projekt Jägermeistern.

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The author doesn't claim to own "Girls und Panzer" or any other references made. "Girls und Panzer" belongs to Actas. Any references made belong to their respective owners.

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