Jeder und Panzer
Aquitaine
"All I do is load the gun, marm. I'm nothing special." – Daveth Teague, loader
"I wear this sash for a reason, marm." You state, tapping the middle and index fingers of your right hand against the aforementioned sash-like eye patch. It covers the upper half of the right side of your face, covering the eye. Your companion looks at you questioningly, before daintily lifting the fine china to her lips "A few years ago my team and I were over-confident. We made mistakes, just as we all do, but by far our biggest one was making it to the finals of a tournament last year. Our Matilda was a fine tank, and the fact it had a 6-pounder gun was only the icing on the cake. It all went downhill, though, when we managed to beat a SuperPershing.
"The tank we met in the finals was a monster. A truly magnificent piece of German engineering. We were out in three shots, and when the fourth hit us the tank caught fire." Darjeeling's eyes widen slightly as she sets the cup and saucer on the table "Young Daveth was still in the tank, and when I managed to get him out of the tank some of the flames… well, you get the idea." Once again you tap against the bottom of the sash, a small, sad smile on your face "We couldn't afford the whole surgery, so most of what we got was some therapy. I considered leaving the sport, but… well, I couldn't. I just couldn't find it in myself to abandon them."
"Does it still hurt?" Darjeeling inquires. There was indeed a reason you chose to accept her invitation to have a drink at her flat, rather than the more crowded floor below where you and your team reside "Your patch must chafe against the burns, surely." You suppose it did rub against the remains of the burn scars, sometimes, but mostly it provided a nice cooling contrast. As she asks the question, you're sipping from the cup, and she is by far one of the most patient people you've met during the six months you spent on the vessel, and you're glad you have the privilege to call her a friend
"Occasionally, when I'm having a bad day." You state, looking out of the window and at the large town that was St. Gloriana – it was a nice enough place, but you're slightly sad that they based it mostly off of London, of all places. Sure, aesthetically it made sense, but that's all Britain wanted to show the world, a single city that everyone complains about "Such as when it's raining heavily, or when it's too hot outside that it makes the material so warm it's uncomfortable. Is it alright if I change the subject? This one is a bit too… personal for me."
"Of course," Darjeeling tells you, a slightly pitying look in her eyes. Or is it consolation? The two are so similar to you that you cannot tell the difference. She once again lifts both cup and saucer, this time resting the latter, still in her grip, on her right knee, which is crossed over the left, and before taking another sip she asks "Is there something else you wished to talk about? I remember that you said you wished to continue our discussion from the last time we had the pleasure of a private conversation." You shrug slightly as you take another drink. It had become a sort of bi-weekly tradition over the tenure of your stay to have a talk with Darjeeling for an hour or two, usually over what ever came to mind at the time
"Certainly." she nods, unable to speak due to the last of her drink at present being in her mouth "Has any of the other schools revealed what tanks they've purchased for next year?" you knew your place on this ship – a glorified advertisement that male tankers were indeed a thing overseas, and would be a thing in male-only schools as of next year, in an attempt to further boost the sport's ratings. Apparently, Kuromorimine, the schools specialising in German armour and the current champions in the regionals, had also been forced to acquire one such tank. Which had been put to use with disastrous effect against Saunders. That tank, though, caused you to shiver when you saw it on the screen.
It was that tank.
It had no fanfare, and despite all tanks having to have female crews – the gaijin ones would be able to take part in next year's tournaments, when the new ruling came into effect – its crew never showed themselves after the battle had been won, in remarkably short order. You despised that tank, and yet you found yourself holding the crew in immense regard, despite what they did to you.
In response to your question, Darjeeling shakes her head
"No," she tells you, setting cup and saucer on the table once again, though you doubted that they'd be picked up until you'd left "And even if they did, it isn't my place to say. Such matters are kept at the discretion of the team captain and student council, to be disclosed with the rest of the team at a time befitting such matters."
"Hm… Oh well, can't win every time, can we?" you say, more to yourself than to Darjeeling – you, of course, knew her real name, and why she preferred to be known as a brand of tea. You, considering yourself a person of morals and the like, would never do anything to disrespect a lady's wishes – though she nods regardless. Her eyes are still closed, but it's warm both inside and out due to it being the start of autumn, makes sense that people would be half asleep "Sometimes, I really can't understand the politics in sports."
"They can be obstructive most of the time, but they keep it clean," Darjeeling tells you, opening her eyes again and getting to her feet "So that it doesn't interfere with the contestants. It's why the world has politicians, as useless as they may seem, they are the ones who keep the world's politics from interfering with the lives of the common person, such as you and I." Makes sense, you suppose. Tankery as a whole took a very bad, very rapid beating when the recession hit, with prices for parts skyrocketing and some companies refusing to manufacture at all – that was strange, in and of itself, but you just chalked it down to the sheer cost of manufacturing a tank in the first place – even as their competitors were threatened with administration and closure "It's still warm outside, would you mind if we continue our discussion on the balcony?" you smile slightly
"Certainly, if that's what you want to do." You tell her, and you push yourself out of the seat before draining the last of your beverage and setting it back on the tabletop. Your coat is soon removed from the back of your seat and folded over your arm before you join Darjeeling at the door. You place your coat covered right arm in front of the door "Ladies first." You tell her, giving a small grin. Darjeeling returns the smile and steps out of the door, letting you close it. There's no need to lock it – the balcony in question is literally all of five steps away
"While we don't know what tank they have, I heard from a friend of mine that Saunders is starting training on their heavier tanks." Darjeeling informs you, her hands on the railing as she leans forwards and looks out across the small city that covers a good portion of the St. Gloriana's top deck. In turn, you lean back against the railing "They've had those two Pershings in the hangar for years – they just aren't good with them, so they've been kept in storage." Your right eyebrow raises of its own accord, as it is wont to do when your curiosity is piqued
"Oh?"
"Yes, I suppose 'oh' would be a good thing to say in the face of such idiocy. They are a peculiar bunch, though their food-" She continues, before pausing and squinting down onto the street four floors below, she leaned further over and waved "Ami and Mai are here. Hello!" Assam and Orange Pekoe, respectively. They were friendly people, sure enough, but Assam had a downright nasty habit of making terrible jokes. She was also one of the best shots the team had ever seen. Orange Pekoe was small, but she had almost crushed your hand the first time you met her – and that was before she became a loader
"M26s, you say?" you ask, hurriedly taking her away from the reverie she was sinking in and back on track "Why would they keep that many and not use a single one?" you, of course, had your own reasons to ponder why they were fetching such powerful tanks out of the shadows. They evidently wanted to avoid a repeat of their disastrous finals where Kuromorimine's mystery monster made mincemeat of their M4s. Mind you, a rank 8 often had that effect of a rank 4. Darjeeling looks at you as Assam and Orange Pekoe wave back up at her and pick up their pace
"I don't really know why, but chances are that their new tank is a M26, too." She stops talking there, before turning around and leaning against the railing, the index and thumb of her left hand cupping her chin, the corresponding elbow resting on her right hand. A classical thinking pose if you ever you saw one "After all, they never really were any good with the Pershing tank. The only time they were really put to use outside of being a collector's piece was twenty years back. That was before some of the schoolships were built. Oarai took out both of the ones that Saunders fetched out in the finals." Of course, Oarai stopped being popular after that, as Kuromorimine and Maginot, not to mention Anzio, were fetched out of the shipyards and launched
"Our six pounder never stood a chance against that monster. We scored two hits, and then we were set alight." You tell her "It looks like they're pulling out all the stops in order to counter Kuromorimine. I have doubts that even Aquitaine's main gun could do much to harm it." Aquitaine was what the crew had painted on the glacis of the Churchill tank you had acquired to replace Horace, the old Matilda Black Prince that had served you so faithfully. Now it sat at Bovington, the haven of tanks the world over and the tanker's paradise.
Aquitaine was a Black Prince, equipped with a powerful Meteor engine.
At that moment, your own reverie was destroyed
"Good afternoon, Darjeeling." The two chorus, before Assam looks to you "Good afternoon to you too, Edward." The taller of the two greets. Orange Pekoe, who you know only really speaks to Darjeeling and whoever she's occasionally on the phone to every so often, merely nods in greeting
"Good afternoon to you too, miss Ami, miss Mai." You greet in turn, maintaining proper etiquette while still preventing Darjeeling from going on another tangent. The schoolships that used themed teams, such as Anzio and Maginot, modelled themselves on stereotypes. St. Gloriana's was the British upper class, and when speaking used the Japanese equivalent to the Received Pronunciation, Keigo, which was generally used by shop clerks or kept to formal and ceremonial occasions "We were just discussing why Saunders were fetching out three M26 Pershings."
"Oh? We heard that Anzio was trying to land-lease a few of Kuromorimine's tanks for next year." Assam says with a shrug, while Orange Pekoe slowly backs away as your frequent tea-and-talk companion advances upon her position. This was a frequent occurrence, and occasionally pondered over whether or not Darjeeling was… what was the word? Oh, right, Yandere. She focussed solely upon the rather short miss Mai, after all, and it did occasionally become a frightening experience "Did you know that Anchovy has a boyfriend now, E- Darjeeling?" the near usage of her name is enough to give Darjeeling pause, the news about Anzio's impromptu leader even moreso
"Anchovy? Of all people?" Darjeeling muses, as Orange Pekoe takes precautionary measures and continues to back away "I feel sorry for the boy." Anchovy was, according to your acquaintances in school, an oddity among the Sensha-dou community. Despite being a first year, she was a team leader. This was achieved due to the sheer charisma she exuded. The downside was, humorously, that Anzio's tanks were in fact mostly tankettes – lightly armed things that could historically be dealt with by throwing a grenade near them. Were they to acquire some of Kuromorimine's tanks, their forces would be significantly bolstered
"You mentioned that Anzio were trying to acquire tanks, miss Ami?" you ask, disrupting the current trend of conversation and setting it back on the original course. It wasn't that you disliked all this talk of relationships and the like, but you'd much prefer if that was kept away at the moment. In response to your question Assam nods, while Darjeeling notices that Orange Pekoe has moved away from her and begins advancing on the poor mite once again "Darjeeling, could you please leave miss Mai alone for the moment? I'm certain she appreciates the affection but we need your input as a commander at present." You receive a glare from the blonde haired girl – you know for a fact that it is dyed, having seen the box containing the bottles once or twice. Helped present the European air that they strived for, after all – as she returns to leaning against the railing
"I doubt Kuromorimine will let them have access to their tanks – Shiho Nishizumi, and in turn Maho, do not look favourably upon lending others their strength. You either succeed and progress forwards on the path you've chosen, or you fail and are left behind. That is the result of following the Nishizumi way." Darjeeling explains, her voice suddenly sombre, the transition only mildly jarring for you – you've experience this in previous conversations. after all "Anzio are, in their view, a weak school who cannot afford tanks of their own, and as such they feel no incentive to assist them, and even if they did, Shiho or Maho would simply say no. It isn't in the interest of their Tankery style."
You suppose that that made sense.
At that moment, Assam's phone buzzes and let loose a harp-like tone as she receives a text
"Sounds like fun." You say airily, prompting a slight smile from Darjeeling and Orange Pekoe. Assam, meanwhile, is focussed on her texting, though you of course won't pry. It would be rude, and besides, you're certain she keeps a Taser on her person at all times – worried parents, typical. Assam then looks up, quickly closing her phone with a click as she hurries towards the stairs
"I've got to go." She tells you all hurriedly "Are you coming, Mai?" Orange Pekoe nods and waves at you and Darjeeling, who tries to give her a hug but is too slow as the smaller girl quickly dodges out of range "I'll see you at school tomorrow then?" Darjeeling nods. You, of course, cannot partake in the school traditionally – that would violate the part where it says 'Women's Academy' – but you are a frequent fixture there nonetheless, usually as a helping hand for Sensha-dou. As were your team, who often ran little 'tests' to keep people up to date on their role in the tanks.
Darjeeling sighs as she watches her friends head downstairs, and watches from the railing as they walk away
"Miss Darjeeling? Are you alright?" you ask, taking a step closer to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. As a friend, it's your obligation to make certain that she's alright "You seem upset over something. Do you want to talk about it?" you hear a small laugh at that, and Darjeeling gives you a small smile
"No, there's nothing I want to talk about." She tells you "Thank you for the concern, though." She certainly doesn't look alright. The moment that Ami and Mai left she turned pale, her lips trembled and her eyes watered. You knew that Darjeeling was a person that loved to be in company, and she thrived when it came to things like 'social gatherings' – which boiled down to tea parties with occasional karaoke - and had been tasked with making the preparation for the annual Utage – an honour among the student body, apparently, as it was the big even of the school year, a large party with lots of food. It was basically the equivalent to the prom, complete with Utage Joō, which you assumed to mean party queen – alongside Ami and Mai. Of the two, only the latter really provided help, with Ami frequently disappearing somewhere.
Usually, your loader was missing at those moments, too.
A light cough catches your attention, and snaps you back to reality
"Is there something on my face, Edward?" Darjeeling asks, her voice unfalteringly polite. You don't answer, instead looking away hastily, and she chuckles an elegant chuckle at your expense "It's starting to get rather chilly, wouldn't you say?" you don't respond for a few moments, and then you nod. You have other things to focus on, after all, and you have suspicions about you wayward loader "Would you like to come back inside for another cup of tea? There's always more than enough to go around, after all."
"… yes, please." You say, managing to stay in reality long enough to reign in the blush on your cheeks as you answer. Darjeeling closes her eyes and hums softly to herself, likely some form of affirmative sound, seeing as your right ear isn't really up to snuff anymore, nor is it exactly a pretty sight anymore underneath the sash "Oh, and Darjeeling?" you ask, hurriedly turning around as she opens the door. She turns to look at you, regarding you through those dazzling sapphire eyes.
Wait, what
"yes?" she asks, sounding honest-to-whatever god there is out there curious. Her face, while seemingly impassive, has those minute quirks you've come to associate with your friend over the past six months since you met her. For example, she never notices that her left eyebrow rises when she's curious over something, for some reason she's only aware of eyebrow quirking when it's her right one that doing it. Her noses also twitches, though she appears to be aware of this, as she has often asked either you or her two most frequent accomplices if her nose twitched again "Is there something you wanted to say, Edward?"
"I was… I was just wondering what…. You were doing next Thursday…?" you sound far more hesitant than you feel. Darjeeling, to her credit, does not blush much at the question. Her cheeks are tinged slightly pink, and a glimmer appears in her eyes – you feel a pang of childish jealousy that you can only see from one side, even though you had accepted the fact you'd never see out of that eye again long ago. For a few seconds, the two of you stand there in an uncomfortable silence, before Darjeeling chuckles and motions for you to follow her
"Oh? I've got nothing planned then, you should already know that." She tells you, reminding you that Thursday was indeed the usual day for your discussions "But I'm certain that we can have our discussion somewhere else that day." Your heart soars and it feels as though you can't breathe briefly, before once again she motions for you to follow her inside, which you do.
Perhaps there was a reward for the long path you walked, after all.
Author's Notice:
If you can't guess the historical reference even after I've spelt it out in bold letters, I'll think of some creative punishment or other.
I promised a fellow writer - though he has yet to finis up his first chapter, which I have high hopes for as it's beta-reader - that I would do a Darjeeling chapter for him. I also said I'd do a Nonna chapter, though eventually another writer - Big Z1776 - wrote it after we had a brief talk over the matter. That will be uploaded in the coming days, after I fix the usual problems I have with DocX. So yes, big thanks to Big Z1776, and I wish him the best of luck with his own fics.
I remember saying that I wouldn't let quotes characters have a chapter, but you can see where that went. Edward Prydwen - probably the most distinctive name you'll see among this cast, visually and verbally, that you'll see here - was the British commander referenced in Chapter 2 and provides us with our first quote. Likewise, John Smith was mentioned here, and so was our nameless hero over in Anzio.
Also, to the reviewer who guessed what Kuromorimine has, I'll reveal it here.
It was always going to be the Lowe. Some of you who play World of Tanks, may seem perplexed as to why that shite tier 8 premium looks so OP here.
That's because, simply put, people who never got to tier 5 want to play with the big boys. They see the Lowe, and think it's a damn cool tank. They don't understand how the Lowe works. The Lowe is my best tank, when angled and in hull down positions it's deadly. It's gun shoots further than most tanks detection range without losing any stopping power. Simply put - that shite tier 8 premium heavy tank, is meant to be played as a tank destroyer, and for that reason it is my best tank.
Next chapter's character is expected to be chosen by next Thursday, as that's probably when I'll get through all these summer history project hand-ins I'm meant to mark. So with that, I'll bid you adieu.