Disclaimer: I do not own World of Tanks or RWBY

The blatantly suicidal, incredibly blunt, and above all disturbingly deadpan statement caused a long moment of silence to follow. Finally, the blonde pointed out, "We literally just saved you."

"Well… y-yes," Gladys said, "And I'm very thankful, of course. Rather brave of you to do, and altogether unexpected given as you're the one who's caused this in the first place."

"I mean, you started it by nearly running Ruby over," Blake retorted. Gladys shot back, "Nearly. I nearly did something on accident, yet none of you can seem to grasp that perhaps there's no one really at fault when something almost happens."

"It's you," the blonde retorted, "You almost ran over my sister, and gave a terrible apology."

"I mean, she didn't actually do it, right?" the short girl pointed out. Gladys nodded, "Precisely. Now, then, if we're done faffing about, I suppose…"

She trailed off, watching a small, tan mass of metal creep into view. In an instant, she recognized it- her old Cruiser IV- and upon that recognition, shook her head quietly. She'd always hated the thing for a myriad of reasons, but the one that stood out now was how it looked. The turret was simply box in the middle of being smashed, its sides turned into little v's, save for the front which was just entirely flat. The cupola stook out like a sore thumb, as did the driver's viewing port- a box on the front. And to top it all off, the thing was so obviously held together by rivets- rivets, for Lord's sake.

Bumbling along and bouncing slightly over roots and little hills, the little tank came, as the German fumed, "Nein!"

Gladys smirked, and the tall black-haired girl asked, "Are those more of you guys?"

"Most certainly," Gladys answered, and the white-haired one reasoned, just as the cupola opened. Out from it came her gunner, Ribbans- a short man with short, brown hair, greeting, "You lot! Bugger off! That's our TC!"

Gladys' smirk turned to a full smile, as the tank approached, finally coming to a stop. As Ribbans ducked back into the turret, Gladys used one of the wheels as a foothold to clamber onto the engine deck while the girl in white agreed, "There's no reason for us to stay."

"But look how cool it is," the short one argued, "And it has a little gun this time."

"Nah, we should be getting back to Beacon," the blonde said just as Gladys was wriggling herself into the cupola. The short one sighed, then said, "Uh… that way."

"You still don't know where we're going," the girl in white complained. The blonde pointed out, "Eh, neither do the rest of us."

Gladys shook her head at their antics, then sat down in her proper position. It was a fairly tight fit with Ribbans just in front of her feet, and on the other side of the gun was one of her loaders, Emma. Ribbans asked, "So, would you mind telling us what happened back there?"

"Would you mind telling me why we're in an A13?" Gladys retorted, "Given it's a bit of a regression."

Ribbans shrugged, and Emma answered, "We just showed up here. No allies or anything- don't even have Betsy around to help. It's a good thing you're wearing that coat- might not've spotted you in the forest."

Gladys sighed, wondering what had happened to her second loader, Betsy, then dismissed it from mind as she noted, "Well, seeing as we're in a Cruiser, we mind as well do a little scouting, eh?"

She picked up the radio intercom and directed, "Carney, kindly get us moving to full speed ahead. Oh, and, the ladies over there say not to go near them- rather prickly about that."

Quietly, she opened the cupola again and stood up, risking being unbuttoned in order to see much of anything. The tank jolted slightly as it started to move, then turned to a smooth, bumbling motion over the roots of trees. Abruptly, Gladys spotted something rather odd to her right, and quickly ordered, "Halt, Carney. That'll do."

The tank lurched to a stop, and Gladys swore lightly as her chest smacked hard against the cupola's rim, then ducked back down and directed, "Ribbans, would you mind using your scope to inspect a certain black shape, about three o'clock?"

She sat down on her chair as Ribbans nodded, "Right'o."

Quickly, he fiddled with the traverse controls, causing it to jerk into motion. After a moment, the turret stopped, and Ribbans informed, "Uh… some kind of monster, I believe. Can I shoot it?"

"Certainly," Gladys nodded, quickly closing the cupola.

Poom!

The sound of the gun firing, from within the turret, was comparatively unimpressive compared to, say, a one-hundred eighty-three millimeter cannon. The bit of dust kicked up was only high enough to reach the driver's vision port; Gladys, watching through the cupola's periscope, saw that the force was more than enough to shoot a round through the air. A few metallic clangs could be heard as the breech opened and the spent round fell in its proper basket.

Outside, the round sailed through the air, smoothly traveling about five hundred meters away from the tank and into what any huntsman would have identified as an Alpha Ursa- differentiated from normal ones by being semi-bipedal. The combination round being of a solid-shot armor-piercing type and the target being of a softy, fleshy type caused no spalling to be formed, and instead the round entered and exited by making holes through the beast's torso much like a normal bullet, only much larger. The Ursa grasped at its torso dumbly for a moment, before its bipedal privileges were revoked and it crashed onto the forest floor.

"Good work," Gladys complimented, watching the black shape fall. Then, she picked the intercom back up and directed, "Carney, get us rolling."

The tank jerked once more into motion, and Gladys said, "Emma, load high explosive."

"Oh, I've already loaded it," Emma said, "These things are tiny."

Quickly, the woman grabbed another round from the ready rack and held it up, demonstrating by the fact that she only used one hand that the rounds were indeed small. Gladys sighed, having forgotten that Emma had no experience as the primary loader- and thus was still learning the two-pounder- then ordered, "Next round HE."

"O'course," Emma nodded. With that exchange done, Gladys opened her cupola again… and noticed another black shape.

"Driver, halt," Gladys said, "Contact," it was just to her left, but- no, wait, the cupola didn't rotate, "Ten o'clock."

The turret jerked again, and Gladys decided to forgo the bother of buttoning back up. The beast was, after all, about five hundred yards away- at least, to her reckoning. So there was no real danger.

Poom!

Consequently, the gun firing sounded a bit more forceful this time than before to Gladys' ears. Then, the turret moved again, and Gladys squinted, only to notice that the large black shape must have been two things.

Poom!

Another round rocketed through the air, and there was a brief pinprick of orange in the forest when the high-explosive detonated. Not for very long, though, and not too much, either- in fact, Gladys herself didn't even see it.

"Alright, Carney," Gladys said, "Carry on."

-Elsewhere

"Hey Oz," Yang greeted, "Here you go."

She took the white knight piece she'd been keeping out from seemingly nowhere, handing it the bespectacled headmaster. Not questioning why he was still on the cliffside, of course, though it really should have been a tip-off that an important man had nothing better to do than wait on her and her party.

"We got one too," Ruby said, handing him the other white knight. Ozpin took them, while Glynda informed, "You'll need to go to the Amphitheater for the Initiation Ceremony, at seven."

"Didn't we already do Initiation?" Blake questioned. Ruby agreed, "We killed the Nevermore and everything."

Weiss sighed at her, as usual, buffoonish compatriots, and Ozpin pointed out, "Your teams have yet to be assigned."

"Oh…" Ruby nodded, "Y-Yeah. Wouldn't want to not have a team, right?"

She chuckled awkwardly, and Weiss asked, "How should we prepare?"

"Your time is your own," Ozpin answered. Weiss nodded quickly, and Yang said, "Alright, bye guys."

She then left, and soon enough the rest of team RWBY followed, along with the companion they'd picked up. He was the tubby German TC, still clad in his black uniform, with a Luger still at his hip. A Luger that still had a full magazine, and a black uniform with a myriad of stains from sweat and hasty flinging to the dirt. More to the point, he was following Weiss, until Ozpin stopped, "Ich kann mich nicht erinnern, dass Sie Ihre Zeugnisse abgegeben haben."

At this, the TC stopped, then guffawed, "Gut, ein richtiger Deutscher! Ich brauche einen Panzerkampfwagen und eine Mannschaft."

Ozpin smiled mirthfully, while Glynda reminded, "Sie sind hier ein Gast, und zwar ein ungebetener. Warum bist du hier?"

"Für Sie, schöne Dame," the TC answered, "Oder zumindest eine Gesellschaft dieser Art, bevor ich wieder in den Krieg ziehe."

Rather notably, he had his eyes glued rather firmly on Glynda's breasts. The woman huffed, and Ozpin noted, "Du bist plötzlich gekommen. Was hält dich?"

"Nichts," the TC answered with a dismissive handwave, "Einfach die Annehmlichkeiten dieses Landes."

"Und seine Tierwelt," Ozpin retorted. The TC sputtered nothing for a moment in a rather comedic manner, and Glynda warned, "Dies ist ein Ort für den Umgang mit den Grimm. Du solltest gehen."

Ozpin shook his head quietly, and the TC fumed, "Ich habe keine Angst vor irgendwelchen dummen Tieren! Wissen Sie nicht, mit welchem Ass Sie sprechen?"

"Nein," Glynda retorted, "Du bist ein ungebetener Fremder."

"Ich bin Hans Karlson, das grosse Ass der Panzerkampwagen!" the TC roared, "Jetzt besorg mir einen Panzer und eine Besatzung!"

"Sie können eine Zeit lang bleiben," Ozpin said, then added, "mit gutem Benehmen."

"Ich brauche deine Nächstenliebe nicht!" Hans bickered, "Gib mir einen Panzerkampfwagen, verdammt!"

"Sie können einen aus dem Wald bekommen," Ozpin joked. Hans glared at him for a long few seconds, then spat, "Ich werde meinen Panzerkampfwagen haben."

Quickly, he turned and stormed off. Ozpin took a sip of his coco, and Glynda questioned, "Why are we letting him stay?"

Ozpin answered, "It would be best to learn about the machines in the forest. Though I'd prefer if the other newcomer came up eventually."

Gladys yawned quietly-

Poom!

Then proceeded to cough quite violently, as the gun fired. What startled her more was realizing that it had been mid-afternoon when she was reunited with her crew for presumably another battle, but by the evening she still hadn't seen any enemies- not any proper ones, anyways, just more of the strange black creatures. When she finally quite coughing, her stomach growled slightly, barely heard over the continuous rumbling of the engine, and Gladys went through her memories to try and figure out if there was somewhere safe to stop and rest. Actually, she'd never had to consider it before, but soon enough, they'd need to sleep. With a bit more intent, she… decided that she needed a proper cuppa before she could do much of anything.

After a brief pause to compose herself, she dipped back down into the turret itself, looking around. Ribbans was slightly slouched, using his left hand to rub his right shoulder. Emma had an AP round in hand, and looked exhausted. Gladys sighed to herself; she couldn't indulge in tea and biscuits, no matter how much she wanted to. She was the TC, the lookout, and she needed to find somewhere to rest.

With a sigh, she picked up the intercom, then ordered, "Carney, stop us."

Ribbans peered into his gunsight, and Gladys smiled a little at just how methodical and drilled her crew was, before informing, "I'm going to try and…"

She sighed.

"Climb one of these trees," she finished, "Ribbans, you have command for now."

"How…" Emma began, trailing off into a yawn mid-word, before saying, "How will we find you?"

Gladys hesitated a moment, then ordered, "Carney, keep the lights on."

"Good enough, I suppose," Ribbans murmured, "Have a merry time."

Gladys nodded lethargically, then clambered out of the cupola. She let out another sigh, breathing in the cold night air, then approached one of the trees. It was evening, but only the early evening- if she climbed fast, she would be able to see from higher ground, and thus have a better chance of spotting somewhere to rest.

When she got to the tree, though, Gladys realized a critical error in her plan; it required her to climb a tree. Her, in her clean, beautiful red coat and black skirt. She bit her lip quietly, hesitating a moment, then awkwardly grabbed a branch and tried to pull herself up. After a few moments of straining, she finally bit the bullet and raised one of her legs, trying to get herself even a little ways up the tree.

Finally, she managed to get high enough to bring her other leg onto the branch, then awkwardly hoisted herself onto the branch. One down, many, many more to go.

Poom!

She turned her head in concern, hearing the gun firing, and found the Cruiser just where she'd left it, though with its turret turned a bit. Quietly, she sighed, assuring herself that her crew would be alright, then continued her climb.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon came up, as Gladys ascended the tree. Finally, she got to a branch which made an odd, cracking noise. Not splitting, but certainly not supporting her weight. Quickly, she lowered herself to the branch below, then stood on it, and looked outwards. The landscape was illuminated well by a fortunately-full moon- in particular, a cliffside that was, to her perspective, ahead.

Quietly, Gladys looked back down… and gulped, staring down. She was looking for the beams of light given by her tank; and just barely, she could see them. So small and tiny, because she was so, so high up. For a few moments, she stared, then shook her head, focusing on her task. The beams were pointed to her right; therefore, the cliffside would be to the tanks left. They could turn left, drive that way until they were at the foot of the cliff, then turn right and… look for a cave? She shuddered, thinking of the indignity of sleeping in a cave- but what choice did she have?

Quietly, she started descending, being careful and slow as she did. Her eyes, by now, were heavy with sleepiness, and-

Poom!

-and they flew open, as Gladys heard the gun fire and felt a distinct pull to the right. Stupidly, she hugged herself to tree… and nearly wet herself in fear (as well as a quite full bladder, to be frank) when the tree continued to tip.

"HELP!" she shouted, "HELP!"

-Back in the tank

Poom!

"I asked you to be alert for behind us," Ribbans pointed out, "I specifically said, 'would you kindly be the one to look out behind?'"

"I did, I did," Emma retorted, slamming another round into the breech. Just a bit faster than usual, too, and with a bit more force to boot. Ribbans retorted, "And yet I have to hear-"

He was cut off by a horrific metal screeching which caused Emma to cover her ears, yelling, "Hit the damned thing!"

Ribbans turned the turret right slightly, then left again. The thing they were fighting was a beast to their left- one which had less distance between it and the tank than the barrel's length. Hence why he was bashing it with the gun barrel. Rather unsuccessfully, too- the turret couldn't turn more than it did before.

"I have to hear 'Oh good heavens, someone's trying to stick it up our rear'!" Ribbans bickered, "And now I'm…"

He swung the turret again, still not going any further.

"Bashing a bloody monster with a 2-Pounder!" he yelled. Emma retorted, "If you'd hit it we wouldn't have this problem!"

"If you'd looked with your eyes we wouldn't have this problem!" Ribbans shouted back. Emma admitted, "Well I don't have a periscope!"

Ribbans stopped a moment, looking at her position. Sure enough, his eyes didn't see a periscope.

"Say something next time, will you?" Ribbans chided, then commanded, "Tell Carney to get a-"

He was cut off by more screeching, and something that sounded like a bolt coming undone altogether. Emma pointed out, "We still don't have Gladys!"

"Tell him to fucking move!" Ribbans said, swinging the turret yet again. Emma hesitated a moment- a moment in which there was a bit more metal screeching, and then blessed, cool, fresh air. As a sharp, black claw tore its way through the steel which had separated them from that air, of course. With that, she quickly grabbed the radio intercom, and yelled, "Forwards! Forwards! Move!"

The tank jerked into motion, but not before one last mauling by the beast outside. Ribbans bit his lip, carefully aiming, adjusting a bit to the thing's left to compensate for how they would continue moving forward- he couldn't put his sights precisely on the thing with the motion, after all- and finally-

Poom!

He smirked, seeing a bloody hole open up in the beast. Emma said, "U-turn!"

Ribbans grabbed the radio from her, shooting, "Belay that, continue ahead!"

"What are you doing?" Emma questioned, "Gladys is still there!"

"We can handle things without her for a little while," Ribbans said. Emma pointed out, "When she's been out, we've gotten it a gun-bashing fight and been exploded!"

"That Leopard should have cooked off!" Ribbans shouted, "Those bloody road wheels saved it!"

"And our commander's saved us!" Emma shot, "So, we need to go back!"

"No, we need to find somewhere to bloody well rest!" Ribbans bickered. Emma questioned, "And where's that?"

"Ahead," he answered. Emma rolled her eyes, then informed, "You'll be taking the blame when she gets back."

Ribbans sighed.

"Can you put a kettle on, at least?" he said, "Make yourself at all useful, if you don't have a periscope?"

"I can be plenty useful," Emma bickered, "Bend over and I'll show you how useful a loader can be, stuffin' these rounds about."

Ribbans shot, "Put the damn kettle on."

Emma hesitated a moment, then informed, "Well, we haven't got one of those, either."

Ribbans sighed, then asked, "What do we have?"

After a moment's hesitation, Emma picked up a multi-repair kit. Ribbans sighed, deeply- and abruptly, the tank jerked right. Emma noted, "At least Carney knows what he's about, eh?"

Ribbans nodded, "Probably having a field day, getting to actually move."

The two chuckled.

-Into the Woods

Gladys sighed to herself in exasperation, having barely managed to not die from the tree falling. At the lost moment, she'd jumped and rolled off. It was a risky maneuver, and not one that did too well- her entire body ached from it, and her ankle felt suspiciously more in pain than the rest. Like it was injured.

And then something growled. Gladys froze, then looked quickly around… and through the darkness of the forest, she saw a pair of glowing red eyes appear from a bush. Quietly, she backed away from them-

Boom!

And they abruptly went out. Gladys looked hastily around, yelling, "Over here! I'm over here!"

She attempted to jump, then hissed in pain, her ankle suddenly feeling like it was made of pure fire. For a long moment, she sputtered, then sighed, collecting herself, and went back to beckoning, "Here! Come here!"

Through the darkness, she saw light, and called, "Here! Here!"

As the lights drew closer, though, she realized something- there were three of them, but divided wrong. The Cruiser IV had a light in the center, then two lights to the side. What she was seeing was more like two central lights, then an extra on the tank's right. Quickly, she dismissed it from her mind- obviously, her Cruiser was simply at an angle, and so she yelled, "HERE!"

The angle didn't change, though, and as the tank drew even nearer, she noticed, with dread, that it was a grey, boxy thing. A very boxy thing, really- its hull had a step-pattern in it, and the turret itself was only saved from being a cube by how short it was. The gun was thin, and long, but not too long- it was a Panzer III.

Quickly, she raised her hands. The Panzer stopped, and she declared, "I don't want a fight!"

From out of the cupola came someone she couldn't really see. She could, however, see the moonlight reflecting off a polished steel gun barrel in their hands.

"Wir haben unseren Kommandanten verloren," the person said, in a reasonably curious voice, "Hast du ihn gesehen?"

"I… er… i-ich… nein doish," Gladys responded, "Nine doish!"

"Entschuldigung," the person said, then corrected, "Sorry. Our commander is odd, I've gotten used to Deutsch."

Gladys sighed, and the person asked, "We lost him, though. Have you seen him?"

"No," Gladys answered. The person sighed, then asked, "Do you want to ride with us?"

"No thank you, Jerry," Gladys shot. The person corrected, "Jerry's our driver. I'm Otto, the-"

Boom!

Gladys winced when the gun fired, then coughed for a few moments. Otto ordered, "Use the- Benutze das Maschinengewehr! Wir haben einen Gast!"

Otto sighed, then informed, "These woods are dangerous, and we have an empty seat for a radio operator."

Gladys sighed… then clambered aboard. Quickly, she opened the hatch, then climbed in, sitting herself in the chair which was definitely not-comfortable and absolutely not appreciating how much leg room there was. Instead, she slammed the hatch closed.

"Ach, eine Frau!" she heard to her left, "Der Kommandant wird wütend sein, dass Sie zuerst einen bekommen haben!"

She glanced over to see yet another bloody Kraut, in SS gear. Jerry, the driver, she supposed from the fact that he had two steering levers in front of him. Quietly, she sighed, shaking her head. Then, she realized something.

"Du… i-ihren… uh…"

"Don't butcher our tongue," someone behind her shot. She looked behind to see… three more Krauts in uniform. One of whom was definitely the loader from the Leopard, and in the commander's position.

"You're the Leopard crew, I suppose?" Gladys said. Otto nodded, and the gunner guffawed, "Du und Hans wurden beide von einem Mädchen geschlagen?"

"Ja, we are the same crew," Otto said, "Are you still 'bloody cross'?"

Gladys hesitated a moment, sighed, then informed, "Your TC headed off with some young girls, just after you lot went to the Garage."

There was a moment's pause.

"Lucky bastard," Jerry said. Otto commanded, "If we cannot find him in these woods, there is no point keeping awake. Turn us around."

Quickly, Jerry slid the left steering lever back- notably, not into a reverse position. Gladys informed, "My tank's still out there, by the by. So if you see a Cruiser IV, please don't shoot it."

Jerry chuckled, "Natürlich nicht. Wir werden sie stattdessen rammen."

"That is Jerry, our driver," Otto introduced, "Here is Karl, our gunner. Und you are in the seat of Fritz, our radio operator."

"Sie dürfen das Maschinengewehr nicht anfassen," Fritz said in a low sort of voice. Gladys said, "I'll do my best not to mess things up, don't worry."

"Gut," Fritz said. Otto gave an awkward chuckle, then advised, "If you do not get in the way, it will be enough."

Author's Note: Here it is; a new and improved second chapter. To those who read the original, and now this, thank you for your patience, and apologies for the idiocy with which I've conducted this.