The pace Ruhuna set ate up the miles nearly as quickly as a Saunders girl devouring a hamburger, and in a welcome change, the terrain remained firm and easy to navigate. After a good thirty minutes at this steady pace, Pekoe sighted a Pravda flag in the distance, waving jauntily in the wind next to yet another river. At least this one wasn't the Amur itself, just a tributary. Stil, it had a very respectable width, and Pekoe eyed it cautiously as the Cromwell drew up to a stop next to where the officials were waiting.
As Pekoe hopped out of the turret, the waiting Pravda race official stood up behind the table she was sitting at. This official, in contrast to all the others Orange Pekoe had met so far, had a serious, almost severe expression on her face.
"Entry no. 6. Welcome. Here, you will attempt to complete the third and final task of the Tank Endurance Challenge." Here, she paused as if waiting to see if Pekoe had anything to say, but after a few seconds passed in silence, she continued speaking.
"The third task is relatively simple. Please direct your gaze to the river; you will see multiple T-34 tanks in the middle. They represent tanks that have stalled whilst attempting to ford. Your task is to attempt to extract the tank assigned to you onto dry land safely within the timespan of thirty minutes. The T-34 is not crewed, so if you wish to attempt to start its engines, you will have to use your own crew. Be warned; there are several spots in the river which may be deeper than your tank's own height. If you fail to rescue the tank within the time limit, you may proceed with a penalty of 2 hours. If you wish to forfeit without attempting the task, the time penalty is 3 hours. Race officials will be standing by with watercraft in case of emergency. Do you have any questions?"
Pekoe shook her head, and the official nodded. "Then you may return to your tank and begin when ready."
Nina's inadvertent warning to the St. Gloriana's girls had not gone unheeded, and they'd spent quite a bit of time that morning making the Cromwell as watertight as possible. Nevertheless, Pekoe was still a little apprehensive, since this was the first time she'd done anything like this. As she gave the order to advance through her throat mike, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the river. Right now, the water was at the level of the Cromwell's tracks, but no higher than that. Still, Ruhuna was driving more cautiously than usual, at least till she got used to the riverbed. At least that was firm. Pekoe shuddered at the very thought of getting bogged down in the river itself. The water was swift and looked incredibly icy, and while Pekoe was a decent swimmer, she drew the line at taking a dip in a river where the temperature was a few degrees above freezing.
Ever so slowly, the Cromwell pushed its way through the river towards the T-34 marked with the number 6. Pekoe watched nervously as the water level began rising almost to the level of the turret, though it thankfully began dropping again as they approached the T-34. When they finally halted next to it, the water was again only covering their tracks. Pekoe glanced at her watch. They'd taken a bit longer than strictly necessary, but as Darjeeling-sama would say 'More haste, less speed'. There was no point trying to rush things only to end up causing complications that would take up even more time.
Clambering out onto the Cromwell's turret, Pekoe began unhooking the tow cable from where it was stowed on the front glacis as she waited for Kangra and Congou to emerge. Once the other two were out, she handed Kangra one end of the cable. Both Kangra and Congou hopped deftly over onto the T-34, and began the task of affixing the cable to it.
As they worked, Orange Pekoe glanced back at the shore. The rumble of more engines was audible, meaning that more competitors had arrived at the checkpoint. It looked like both Karen's M4A1 and one of Pravda's T-34/85s were here, with both tanks already making their way into the river upstream of Pekoe to pull out their assigned tanks.
"Pekoe-san! The cable's as secure as I can make it!" Kangra called.
Turning her attention back to the task at hand, Pekoe thought for a moment, then nodded. If ever there was a time for boldness, this was it.
"Congou-san! If you're sure, let's go ahead with the plan," she called across. On the T-34, Congou nodded, then flipped open the driver's hatch and swung herself in nimbly.
"Let's hope Pravda's waterproofing is as good as they always claim it is." Kangra had rejoined Pekoe on the Cromwell, though she kept glancing over at the T-34.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, Kangra-san. Do you remember that exhibition match we had with Pravda against Ooarai and Chihatan? They kept their KV-2 submerged for ages at the beach, and it worked just fine," Pekoe said quietly.
"You're probably right, Pekoe-san," Kangra said, though she still looked a little worried.
"Congou-san will be fine, Kangra-san. She's the only one with experience handling the T-34, and she's always been very calm and logical, even more so after that short stint serving with Alice-san." To be honest, Pekoe was reassuring herself just as much as Kangra at this point, though she refrained from mentioning that part aloud.
At that point, the T-34's engine made a few choking noises, then fell silent again. A single, muffled "Fiddlesticks'' drifted out from the driver's compartment, and Kangra lifted her eyebrows as she looked at Pekoe. By Congou's standards, that was swearing up a blue streak.
Pekoe let out a small sigh. "I think we might need to start towing first. If Congou can get it working later, all the better, but no point waiting."
A short word to Ruhuna later, the Cromwell's engine started up with a rumble, and ever so slowly, the two tanks began to move, though at an incredibly slow pace. Pekoe checked her watch and winced. They only had about 10 minutes left to try and drag the tank out, and at this current pace, they'd be cutting it real fine...
Just then, a sudden loud scream and a splash caught her attention, and she turned to see what had happened. Apparently one of the Pravda girls had lost her footing when attempting to secure the tow cable, and was now being swiftly carried down the river towards Pekoe and the Cromwell.
"Ruhuna-san! Stop the tank!" The Pravda rescue boat was already being launched, but if the girl wasn't halted quickly, she might get swept away long before they could get to her. Kangra had already jumped back inside the tank, hastily scrabbling for the rope that was stowed away somewhere in there.
"Pekoe-san, tie this end of the rope to the tank!" Kangra emerged with her heavy coat removed, and was tying the rope around her waist as she spoke. Pekoe did as she was asked, not wanting to waste more time. Kangra was among the best swimmers in the team, as they'd all found out during the last senshadou team retreat. She'd handily beaten even more experienced third-years at the swim races they'd held then.
As the screaming Pravda girl came closer, Kangra waited till she was nearly at the Cromwell, then dove into the icy water and started swimming strongly towards her. She managed to grab her almost immediately, and then she managed to manoeuvre enough that the current pushed her against the Cromwell, allowing her to rest and keep the girl's head above water. By now, Congou had emerged from the T-34 and crossed back to the Cromwell, and together, Pekoe and Congou hauled the two sodden and shivering girls out of the water with the aid of the rope.
As Congou cracked open some portable heat packs, Pekoe draped the two girls with blankets. Pravda's rescue boat had finally arrived, and carefully, the two girls were transferred over to be quickly taken to shore for further treatment.
As the boat sped off, Pekoe carefully sat down, as the adrenaline rush began to wear off and her knees started to feel wobbly. Everything had happened so fast that it hadn't quite sunk in yet. Just then, her earpiece vibrated with the sound of an incoming transmission.
"Err... Pekoe-san? What's going on up there? Why'd you ask me to stop? Aren't we supposed to get the tank to shore in a certain time? Also, I heard a lot of splashing, what's going on?!"
Oh. Right. They still had a task to complete, although...
Pekoe checked her watch and stifled a groan. Slowly, she rose again. "It's OK, Ruhuna-san. We just had a small emergency, but everything's been safely handled. Just restart the engine and keep going. I'll fill you in when we finally reach shore. Don't worry too much about how fast we're going, we're past the time limit at this point anyway."
After the Cromwell finally reached the shore, T-34 in tow, Pekoe dismounted as quickly as possible to look for her crewmate, mind filled with possible nightmare scenarios. Her worries were soon assuaged upon finding Kangra, wrapped in blankets and wearing a spare Pravda uniform, sitting in front of a fire with her hands outstretched, with only her damp hair and the occasional shiver to show for her dip in the river.
"How are you feeling, Kangra-san?"
Kangra gave her a wan smile. "I could do with a spot of hot tea right about now, Pekoe-san, and I wouldn't want to do a repeat performance anytime soon. That said, I think I'm quite alright now."
Pekoe smiled in relief. "Well, that's good to hear, and I think that spot of tea can be arranged. I need to speak to the race officials first, but Congou and Ruhuna should be here soon with our supplies."
Now reassured as to Kangra's well-being, Orange Pekoe headed over to the race officials' table, where they were hastily conferring in a small huddle, with the occasional glance thrown Pekoe's way. She stood there patiently, until finally the official that had first spoken to her, the stern-looking one, detached herself from the group and came over to her.
"Ah...Entry number six. St. Gloriana's Orange Pekoe-san." The official was fidgeting ever so slightly as she spoke. "We have been discussing the situation, and have come to a decision. We are extremely grateful for your assistance, but unfortunately, we will still have to record you as having completed the task outside the time limit. If you wish to submit an appeal, we will of course endorse it wholeheartedly, but the decision whether or not to waive the penalty does not rest with us, but with the Race Organising Committee as a whole."
Pekoe's face fell, but she nodded anyway. "I understand fully. Please inform your superiors that we would like to submit an official appeal, and thank you for your honesty as well."
"Thank you for understanding," the race official said quietly. Then, she did something that Pekoe had never expected. She put down her clipboard, and dropped into a bow that was so low, it actually went past 90 degrees.
"Orange Pekoe-san, with that done, I would now like to speak to you not as an official representative of Pravda, but as an elder sister instead. You and your crew, especially that brave girl who jumped into the river, have my utmost thanks for saving the life of my little sister. I owe all of you a debt I will never be able to repay. If there is ever anything I can do for you or for them, simply let me know. I, Liliana of Pravda, will do everything in my power to assist."
Flustered, Pekoe waved her hands around a little. "Ah, there's no need for such gratitude, Liliana-san! Anyone would have done the same. How is your sister doing, by the way?"
Liliana rose from her bow with a much softer expression than she had worn so far. "She appears to be recovering well, and I anticipate no permanent injury will come to her, thanks to the swift action of you and your crew."
"I'm glad to hear that," Pekoe replied. "In any case, I'll be sure to convey your thanks to my crew."
"That would be much appreciated. Now, please excuse me, it appears that I need to return to my duties." One final bow from Liliana followed, before she spun on her heel and made for the race official's table, where her colleagues had been waving at her urgently.
Pekoe watched her go for a few seconds before heading off to where Ruhuna was already fussing over the Cromwell, together with Congou. Once Ruhuna was done with her inspection and knew exactly what spare parts they needed, she could call for their one allowed resupply, and then they could finally, finally be off on the final stretch of this race.
The roaring of rotor blades woke Pekoe from the all-too-short nap she had managed to snatch while waiting for their resupply to arrive. Groaning and stretching, she rubbed any remaining sleep out of her eyes and went to meet the just-arrived helicopter, joined by Ruhuna. A fresh and clean-looking Rukuriri stepped out as soon as the ramp of the Mi-26 opened, pushing a trolley laden with a crate bearing St. Gloriana's emblem. Pekoe was suddenly very aware of how sticky and dirty her hair and uniform was, despite her best efforts these last few days at keeping herself clean, and forcibly tamped down the sudden burst of envy she felt.
"Yoo-hoo! Orange Pekoe-san! Ruhuna-san! Here's everything you requested!" Rukuriri waved at her schoolmates, then placed the crate down carefully. As Ruhuna immediately started working away at the lid, muttering to herself, Rukuriri started glancing around. Once she was satisfied that no one from Pravda was within earshot, she leaned over to whisper to Pekoe.
"Fantastic job so far, Pekoe-san! Everyone saw what happened in the third task, and I'm pretty sure they're all rooting for you now! All the best for the last leg! I'm sure you'll show these Pravda girls what's what, eh?"
Pekoe gave Rukuriri a tired smile in response. "Thank you, Rukuriri-san. The vote of confidence is appreciated."
Rukuriri gave Pekoe a thumbs up and a wink, then hopped back onto the waiting helicopter. As the Mi-26 rose into the sky once more, Pekoe watched until it was no more than a speck in the distance, then sighed and turned around. She was sore and stiff after the last few days of sleeping on the ground, and the thought of sinking into a proper bed was getting more and more appealing by the hour, though only after a nice hot bath, of course.
As if to mock her, it was at that moment a particularly icy gust of wind blew, stabbing right through every single layer Pekoe was wearing. Shivering, Pekoe wrapped her arms around herself and started to walk faster. This race had certainly been a unique experience, but she'd had enough of Siberia to last her a lifetime. The sooner she was done with it, the better.
After a few hours, Ruhuna had finally, finally finished going over the Cromwell and fixing up anything that looked even vaguely concerning, and Orange Pekoe had wasted no time in heading off the minute Ruhuna had given the all-clear. They were currently making good time towards the finish line, but Pekoe wasn't letting down her guard just yet. It would be just her luck for something to happen at the very last moment.
At least morale had gone up quite a bit, thanks to the supply delivery. Darjeeling had seen fit to include not just the rations and spare parts Pekoe had asked for, but also small luxuries like spare sets of clothes, chocolate bars, and biscuits to go with their tea. All of them had taken the chance to take a quick field shower at the checkpoint, and now, with a fresh, clean uniform on and a few chocolate-covered digestives inside her, Pekoe felt like a new woman.
"How are things looking, Ruhuna-san?"
The intercom crackled, and Ruhuna's cheerful reply came back. "They're looking real good, Orange Pekoe-san! I estimate we'll finally be out of the wilderness and hit the road in a few hours, and from there it's a straight line down to the finish line at Livotko."
"Excellent. I'll leave it to you then, Ruhuna-san. If you need a break at any time, just let me know."
"Roger!"
After three hours, just as Ruhuna had predicted, a thin line intersecting the scrubland that the Cromwell was moving through appeared on the horizon. While it could charitably be referred to as a road, Pekoe was of the opinion that it barely qualified to be called a dirt track. Still, it was serviceable enough, though already churned up in places by what could only have been tank treads. Some other competitors had definitely already passed this way.
After bumping its way onto the so-called road, the Cromwell's speed began to increase, at first slowly, then faster and faster, until it was roaring along at speeds beyond what Pekoe had thought was its maximum. For the first time in this race, Ruhuna finally had a firm, clear road with no obstacles ahead of her, and she had apparently decided to take the opportunity to really cut loose. After spending most of her senshadou career in the slower Churchill, the jolt of excitement that shot through Pekoe as the Cromwell flew down the road was new to her. Was this what Rosehip felt like all the time? Revelling in the unfamiliar sensation, Pekoe thought she understood the crimson-haired girl a little better now.
A short while later (or so it felt to Pekoe), a couple of small black specks could be seen ahead of them on the road, slowly growing larger and larger as Ruhuna continued to push the Cromwell's engine to its limits. After another quarter of an hour, they were identifiable as a Sherman and a T-34/85, both roaring along at their top speeds and doing their best to overtake the other. At the moment, the T-34 was in the lead, but the Sherman was very close behind it.
As the Cromwell drew within hailing distance of both tanks, the hatch of the T-34 opened and a blonde head popped out. It was Klara, and while Pekoe could tell the Pravda girl was shouting something at her, she could barely hear anything over the noise of the engines and the wind, something that Klara soon realised as well. She shrugged and gave Pekoe a final jaunty wave and salute that Pekoe interpreted as 'May the best woman win!', then dropped back into her tank.
Pekoe glanced at the other tank ahead of her, the Sherman. Nothing happened, which didn't come as a surprise to Pekoe. In the short time she had known Karen, she hadn't exactly struck Pekoe as a particularly friendly girl. Shrugging, the orange-haired girl lowered herself back into her own turret, shivering slightly. It was good to get out of the wind.
The next hour passed in a haze of queasiness for Pekoe. Ruhuna seemed to take the presence of the other two tanks in front of her as a personal affront, and constantly attempted to overtake whenever the road widened enough to let her try. Nevertheless, whoever was driving Karen's and Klara's tanks were no slouches themselves, and Ruhuna frequently managed to overtake one of the tanks only to be re-overtaken in turn just a few minutes later. All that constant wild swerving and sudden acceleration was yet another new experience for Pekoe, and she found herself grateful she hadn't eaten much earlier. Kangra, on the other hand, had helped herself generously to the supplies Darjeeling had sent over, and was now regretting it at her leisure. Pekoe no longer wondered why the resupply crate had also included a supply of brown paper bags labelled 'For Emergencies'.
The tanks roared on, keeping pace with one another even as each tried to move in front of the others and stay there. Right now, the T-34 was in the lead, with the Cromwell slightly behind and the Sherman bringing up the rear. Pekoe was getting a little antsy inside the turret, even as she continued to try and plot their course on her map as best as she could. As far as she could tell, they were nearly at the town of Livotko, where the finish line was. Ruhuna had obviously realised the same thing, as the tank put on a huge burst of speed and drew almost level with the T-34, even as the Sherman did the same from behind them.
"Ruhuna-san, are you sure this is a good idea?! It's not like it'll make much difference!" Pekoe was wondering whether they really needed to overtake the other two tanks. After all, what was a few minutes more to a race that had its timings measured in days?
Ruhuna's answer came back instantly. "I'm sure, Pekoe-san! St. Gloriana's honour demands it! Now, hang on, I'm gonna open her up!"
Ruhuna sure had gotten a lot more assertive these days, Pekoe thought wryly to herself before the tank's sudden acceleration left her focusing solely on keeping herself steady inside the tank. Beside her, Kangra turned pale again and hastily grabbed a new paper bag.
"Orange Pekoe-san! Up ahead!"
Ruhuna's excited call prompted Pekoe to stick her head out of the tank. Buildings had started to appear by the side of the road, which probably meant that they were now passing through the outskirts of Livotko. More and more people could be seen by the roadside as well, presumably there to watch the race. Up ahead, a large sign with the words "Pravda High School Tank Expedition Challenge Finish Line'" pointed straight towards the centre of town. Adrenaline flooded her body as Pekoe realised that this really was the end of the race.
"Nearly there, Pekoe-san! Brace yourself, I'm going to give it everything I've got!" Ruhuna yelled over the intercom.
Ruhuna was as good as her word. Pekoe felt that if they were to go any faster, the Cromwell might just take off, but no matter how much Ruhuna tried to push her way past the other two tanks, she never managed to take the lead for long. They'd push ahead for a few seconds, then the T-34 or the Sherman would put on a burst of speed and overtake them, only to be overtaken themselves in turn by the others. The roaring of three tanks' engines at full throttle nearly drowned out the loud cheers of the spectators that were lining the roads, even as they continued to hurtle through the town's streets.
Pekoe's heart was racing, and she flung open the hatch and stuck her head out, feeling the wind whip through her braids and the thrill of speed flood through her as the crowd yelled their encouragement. Klara and Karen had both also emerged from the top of their tanks, both with identical expressions of excitement on their faces.
Finally, a huge banner marking the finish line appeared in front of them. It might have been Pekoe's imagination, but she would have sworn that somehow, Ruhuna managed to coax even more speed out of the Cromwell's long-suffering engine in that last minute. Regardless, it still wasn't enough. All three tanks surged past the finish line in a dead heat, Klara just barely in the lead, followed closely by Pekoe and Karen, to the crowd's enthusiastic approval.
At last, after nearly two hours of running the Cromwell flat out, Ruhuna slowed it, then gently brought it to a stop. Pekoe slumped over the edge of the hatch, suddenly feeling completely drained of energy. The Great Pravda Endurance Tank Race was finally, finally, over.
The next few hours would forever be a blur to Orange Pekoe, though a few moments still managed to break through the haze of exhaustion that filled the rest of that time in her memories:
Darjeeling and Assam coming to assist her as she slowly dismounted from the tank, limbs trembling as the adrenaline of that last frenzied chase through the streets wore off, a soft "Well done" coming from Assam. Darjeeling hadn't said anything, a rare occurrence for her, but the proud smile on her face made any words unnecessary.
Sitting together with the rest of her crew (Ruhuna already nodding off at the table), slowly sipping at some borscht, so rich and hearty that it almost felt solid, with Nilgiri keeping an eye on everyone and making sure to top up the bowls whenever any looked like running out.
Soaking in a steaming hot bath the way she had been dreaming of for the past four days, and nearly drowning when she dozed off, only to be rescued by Rosehip.
Sinking into a gloriously soft and clean bed, and drifting off to sleep without having to worry about the tank or her crew.
Upon awakening the next morning, with the sun shining directly on her face, Pekoe was filled with confusion at her surroundings. Where was the tank? Where was the mud and the prickly thorns and the leaves and dirt everywhere, and why was she warm and lying on something soft and fluffy? Then, everything that had happened yesterday came rushing back to her, and it finally hit Pekoe that the race was over, and she'd actually managed to finish it. As she sat there, still trying to gather her thoughts, a knock at the door heralded Assam's head popping in through the door.
"Good morning, Pekoe, I hope you're feeling better? You were dead on your feet last night, and we thought it best to pack you off to bed as soon as possible."
At Pekoe's hesitant nod, Assam grinned. "Excellent. The final remaining contestant crossed the finish line a couple of hours ago, and now with everyone either having finished the race or withdrawn, they'll be announcing the results at the official closing ceremony at ten a.m. today. I'll leave you to get ready, but we'll be waiting for you there."
As Assam withdrew, Pekoe glanced at the clock, then immediately flung the blankets off, any remaining sleepiness gone. It was already a quarter to nine, and she didn't want to be late for the closing ceremony.
Orange Pekoe was pretty sure she'd managed to break her own personal record for getting dressed and ready for the day, since she was as eager as anyone else to find out the final results. By half-past nine, she was down with the rest of the St. Gloriana team, sitting and talking while they waited for the closing ceremony to begin. Glancing around, Pekoe could see Klara on the far end of the square, talking with some other Pravda girls. The Saunders contingent was also out in full force, and while Karen was nowhere to be seen, Kay and her two lieutenants were easy to spot (or hear, in Kay's case).
At ten a.m. sharp, Katyusha marched up to the wooden stage erected in the town square, where a podium was already waiting for her. The discreet steps and platform built into the back of the podium ensured that Katyusha had a commanding view of the audience, and she wasted no time in making sure everyone knew she was there. The blonde cleared her throat noisily in front of the microphone, then immediately launched into her speech.
"Welcome, one and all, to the closing ceremony of the 24th Pravda High School Tank Endurance Challenge! It has been a glorious race, almost as glorious as its inspiration, and once again, our glorious Pravda has successfully shown the world just what she is capable of! Such a glorious event deserves a glorious closing as well!"
Darjeeling, next to Pekoe, winced a little. "Well, that's Katyusha's Christmas gift sorted for this year. Roget's was on sale back at the school bookshop, I believe."
On the other side of Pekoe, Rosehip turned to Pekoe, mouthing "Roget's?" silently.
"A famous thesaurus. Now shush, the others are going to hear us," Pekoe whispered back, even as Katyusha paused for a while to bask in the applause. The Pravda captain kept smiling and waving to the audience until Nonna, standing off to the side, caught her eye and coughed. Katyusha scowled a little, then held out her hand until the crowd fell silent again.
"While the great Katyusha knows all of you long to continue showing your enthusiasm, we must continue on with our program! Nevertheless, Katyusha wishes to take this opportunity to thank you for your support of Pravda! Remember, Pravda and Katyusha will never forget those who are her friends!"
A second, louder cough from Nonna could be heard, and Katyusha hastily continued.
"Now, the time that all of you have been waiting for has come at last! Katyusha will now be announcing the results of the 24th Pravda High School Tank Endurance Challenge! If you are named among the winners, you are to come down to the stage at once, both to receive your well-deserved reward and in order that all might see and know you!"
Most of the audience leaned forward eagerly. While everyone knew the order in which the contestants had arrived at the finish line, the various time penalties that contestants had picked up along the course of the race had yet to be factored in, and there might be a surprise or two coming their way. The St. Gloriana's contingent was no different, and almost all of them had their eyes glued to the giant screen behind Katyusha.
Katyusha looked up from her sheaf of papers with a small smirk on her face. "In third place! With a total time of 97 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds, entry no. 10 from Pravda, commanded by Klara!"
The audience broke into a storm of applause, as Pekoe had expected. A few high-spirited Pravda girls were even stamping their feet and yelling "Uraa!" for good measure.
As the crew of Klara's tank took their places on stage, Katyusha cleared her throat and continued. "In second place! With a total time of 89 hours, 24 minutes, and 15 seconds, entry no. 7 from Pravda, commanded by Sofia!"
The clapping and cheering continued for a few more minutes, even as Sofia and her team made their way to the stage, but eventually the noise began to fade, and Katyusha, a gleam in her eye, prepared to announce the winner of the race.
"And now, the champion! Coming in with a total time of 80 hours, 37 minutes, and 5 seconds, entry no. 12, from Pravda, Irina and her crew! Pravda has shown its greatness, and Irina has brought much honour to the school!"
The clapping and cheering started again, and this time, it showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. The roar of the crowd continued to grow even as Irina and her crew, still looking like they couldn't believe it themselves, began to slowly head down from where they had been sitting. Pekoe could barely hear herself think over the wild cheering and shouting.
In any case, there wasn't that much to think about anyway. Pekoe had sort of half-expected that this would be how things would turn out. After all, they'd lost too much time in the earlier sections of the race and then gotten hit with enough time penalties to ensure they couldn't make the top three. Still, she was proud of her girls. They'd managed to finish, after all, which is more than could be said for most people. She'd definitely be treating them all to dinner once they got back to the school, though she was a bit hazy as to when Darjeeling wanted to leave.
"Darjeeling-sama, are we planning to head off immediately after this or are we —"
"SILENCE! The great Katyusha demands silence now!"
Pekoe's query was cut short by Katyusha's shouting, and around her, the roaring of the crowd started to slowly diminish.
"Silence, for Katyusha has one last announcement to make! There is one more team which Pravda wishes to honour today!"
The crowd burst into fresh muttering, as girls looked at each other in surprise at this new development.
"While she and her crew may only have finished 5th overall, this team nevertheless deserves recognition for their heroism and gallantry! Willingly risking their lives and sacrificing their chances of winning, they rescued Pravda students in need during the race not just once, but twice! We owe them a great debt, and never shall it be said that Pravda does not pay its debts, not while Katyusha still draws breath! Entry no. 6 from St. Gloriana's Girls College, commanded by Orange Pekoe! Step forward with your crew, and be named a Hero of Pravda!"
Pekoe just sat there, stunned, until Assam gave her a gentle nudge. As she slowly stood up, Darjeeling began to applaud, slowly but loudly, and then the rest of the St. Gloriana contingent started to clap as well (with a few whoops from Rosehip). The clapping started to spread to those around them, at first slowly, then faster and faster, until the entire crowd was clapping and cheering just as loud as they had for the announcement of the winning teams from Pravda. She couldn't believe it, but apparently, she had ended up winning something after all.
As Pekoe slowly began descending the stands with the rest of her crew, all of them save Congou still looking slightly dazed, Darjeeling took a long, satisfied sip of tea. Assam, on the other hand, simply fixed her commander with her best unamused look.
"Wipe that smug look off your face right this instant, Darjeeling. There is no way you could have ever predicted this would happen."
Darjeeling's smirk did not leave her lips. "Perhaps I did not predict this exact situation, my dear Assam, but I had faith in Pekoe to make me proud anyway. She has proven that she has mastered the arts of survival in the wild as well as any Pravda girl, but also the virtue of a true scion of St. Gloriana's as well. All in all, this has been an excellent test of her ability."
Assam slowly nodded at her commander's words. Much as she hated to boost Darjeeling's ego, she couldn't think of any objection, and the maddening thing was that she could tell that Darjeeling knew exactly what Assam was thinking.
"And to think it seems like only yesterday I was discussing this very thing with Katyusha." Darjeeling stared at her teacup, looking maudlin. "Oh yes, that reminds me. I also have a year's supply of Russian tea to claim. Pekoe may not have won the race, or even finished in the top three, but she did win Pravda's highest gallantry award, after all..."
"Wait, what's this about a wager and a year's supply of —"
"Oh look, Assam, Pekoe is receiving her award now! Come, we should be rising to give her a well-deserved ovation!"
"Don't change the subject, Darjeeling! Darjeeling!"
A/N: And with that, Orange Pekoe's 4th task is over. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride so far!
