Disclaimer: I do not own World of Tanks or RWBY

"Help! HE~ELP!

Gladys jolted upright from the half-nap she'd ended up taking on the grass, hearing a young girl screaming for help.

"They won't leave me alone!" the girl cried. Quickly, Gladys got on to the engine deck of her tank, and looked over the turret to see a blonde boy, being chased by a familiar-looking Panzer III. She smirked a little when she recognized-

Boom!

That bit of satisfaction at seeing Otto again was utterly shattered when the tank fired its main cannon at a child. Gladys immediately hopped into her cupola, and commanded, "Ribbans, ten o..."

She trailed off, then swore, realizing she was alone in the tank. Quickly, she maneuvered around to where Emma would usually be, and grabbed a round from the rack and slammed it into the breech. Then, she squeezed back around the breech, and sat down to look through the gunsight, fumbling with the traverse mechanism for a moment, turning it right rather than left. This was quickly solved by her going the other way.

Boom!

Outside, the Panzer III fired another round. Gladys, in a panic that they might just run the boy over, fired simply at its front, hoping to hit either the driver or the engine.

Poom!

The Bofors sounded, and the round sailed quickly through the air. Gladys paused a moment, watching its effect... then noticing both the hull and the turret turning to face her. Quickly, she backed up, going to grab another round. As she was walking, a horrific screeching sounded, and something from the enemy sailed right past, having gone squarely through the driver's compartment. Gladys promptly redoubled her efforts, grabbing the round and slamming it in-

-and was then slammed against the turret wall. Quickly, she regained her balance and got in the gunner's seat, to see the Panzer directly next to her. The bastards had actually rammed her! The nerve! What's more, she could see through the sights the other gunner staring at her- and it was Karl! Gladys bit her lip, then elevated the gun to get it over the enemy's while the turret traversed, before focusing her sights squarely on Karl's rather large glass vision port.

Poom!

She thought it would have bee more satisfying to shoot there. Instead, watching the shower of gore, she realized that the psychological ramifications of ramming maneuvers might also play a part in them being uncommon. Still; an enemy was an enemy, and now that enemy was dead. She headed swiftly over, grabbed another round, and shoved it in. This time, through the former vision block- now hole- she saw Fritz screaming at someone down below.

Poom!

And this time, Gladys felt a bit less bad about the bloody- quite literally- mess she was making. As she was going over to get another round, someone yelled, "Wir geben auf! We surrender!"

Gladys hesitated a moment, then ran over to the cupola and looked through the periscope to see Jerry, hopped out of the driver's hatch, waving his arms. Otto was nearby, climbing out of the radio operator's hatch for some reason. Gladys smiled a little in the simple satisfaction of having beaten her enemies, before letting out a sigh and getting out of her cupola. The air outside greeted her with a horrendous smell, as the fact that she'd made two dead bodies greeted Gladys. For a moment, she held firm, then turned to the side and rather ungracefully wretched, bile burning her throat from how quickly it shot out. She remained bent to the side for a moment, breathing deeply as she collected herself, then brought herself upright again, to see Jerry climbing out of his hatch, and Otto coming out from the radio operator's hatch.

"Rammen war also nicht das richtige Manöver," Jerry said, chuckling a little. Gladys sighed to herself, and Otto greeted, "It is good to see you again. Our commander is gone again-"

"You shot at me!" Gladys cut off, "And at a child!"

"It was Fritz's idea," Otto informed. Gladys huffed, muttering, "'I was only following orders', of course..."

She sighed, and Jerry informed, "We are your prisoners."

She sighed again, then got out of her cupola, walking on over. As she did, she naturally saw the dead bodies a bit more, and thus paled in horror at the sight, and the smell... it was like nothing she'd ever smelled before. Even when she plugged her nose, she could smell it- but she kept her hand in position anyway as she commanded, "Give your weapons to me."

Otto nodded quickly, unholstering... one of the oddest things Gladys had ever seen. It was like someone had taken a normal, modern pistol- sleek, small handgrip and just a little trigger guard, with a blocky recoil mechanism- and then put a Luger's barrel on it. An incredibly short version of a Luger's barrel, to be specific- which was what Otto grasped as he handed her the pistol. Gladys hesitated a moment, then asked, "I, ah, don't suppose you could give me the whole belt instead?"

Otto nodded, "I suppose."

Gladys sighed, glancing around-

"She doesn't have a weapon!" Jerry realized. Gladys stepped back as he lunged- straight into Otto's extended arm.

"The Cruiser ist still there," he reminded. Gladys awkwardly chuckled, then nodded, "Please, uh, b-be my guests and give my gunner a reason to fire. Two less Kraut bastards in the world and all."

Jerry huffed, and Gladys looked away again, trying to make herself seem confident. Of course, something else then popped up in her day; a blonde-haired boy running up, waving a hand. The blonde haired boy who the two Bosh had been shooting at.

"H-Hey!" they yelled, approaching. Gladys stood her ground, and then said, "Wh-Who are you?"

Gladys hesitated, and they said, "You saved my life, so, uh... I'm Jaune. A-Arc."

Gladys sighed, then returned, "I'm Gladys Flerkey- and, I presume you would be happy to help a little?"

"Sure," Jaune nodded, and Gladys informed, "I'm taking these two prisoner, and it would be nice to have a second hand in that."

"Shouldn't they be taken to, like, the headmaster?" Jaune questioned, "I mean... that kinda seems more right."

"Yes," Gladys nodded, "As a prisoner convoy."

"Oh," Jaune murmured. Gladys sighed, then turned to see Otto holding his belt, arm extended to her. Quickly, she took the thing, feeling the rather quality leather it was made of, then said, "Right, come on then."

Gladys, of course, didn't know precisely where she was going, but she did know where the man's office was, from having been there during the whole 'becoming a student' debacle. And, to her, it was a fairly good bet that someone in a position of authority would remain in a literal position- somewhere where they had good communications and such, and could be reliably found by subordinates when they were in need of instructions. After all, she reasoned, the man had grey hair; he was wise and experienced in his trade, certainly no Rommel.

"Uh, h-hey Weiss!" Jaune greeted. The girl was just ahead, walking angrily away from... the German TC. Who, hearing Jaune's voice, spun around and marveled, "Jemand anderes, der zumindest ein Wort von Anständigkeit versteht..."

He trailed off as his and Gladys' eyes met. Only for a moment, though, before he looked to the others and barked, "Feiglinge! Von einer Frau gefangen genommen! Und ein englisches noch dazu!"

"Uh... what's he saying?" Jaune asked. Otto saluted- Gladys bit her lip to keep from screaming at the fact that he did an actual Nazi salute- and reported, "Herr Unter Schar Führer, unser Panzer wurde ausgeschlagen. In der jetzigen Situation-"

"Ich höre keine Worte von doppelt verräterischen Schlangen!" the TC barked.

Pop!

Gladys didn't even see the man's hand move before she heard the Luger firing. Otto gasped, and Jaune shouted, "Hey!

"Und nun zu der kleinen Engländerin," the TC said with a smirk. Gladys eyes widened, as she looked- for the second time in as many days- down the barrel of a Luger P08. She only did for a moment, though, before Jaune stepped between the two of them, asking, "Why are you doing this?"

"Du hast das Zeug zu einem Arier, also werde ich dich nicht töten – noch nicht," the TC said, "Aber sprechen Sie Ihre richtige Sprache und treten Sie zur Seite. Jetzt!"

"What does that mean?" Jaune questioned, and Gladys fumbled with the belt in her hands for a moment-

Then, abruptly, she was tackled to the ground, hitting the walkway with her left elbow leading. Nevertheless, she hit her head on the pavement when she was forced downwards, to see Jerry upright, smiling. Quickly, she threw a fist at him, only for the driver to be just a little faster, hooking her arm- though, whether that was intentional or him simply missing a punch on her arm is entirely debatable.

Pop!

A round hit the pavement next to Gladys, and she dragged her arm back in, taking Jerry with it. Their two skulls collided, just as Gladys kicked with her right leg- only for the man to grab her neck with his other arm and roll them again.

Ping!

"I-I'll fight you!" Jaune warned. Gladys didn't have time to look, desperately kicking away at Jerry to try to get him to release his grip on her neck, until Jerry abruptly raised her head and slammed it back down.

Ping-Ping!

"Das ist der letzte Warnschuss!" Hans cried. Jerry raised Gladys' head again, this time bending upwards as he did- only for Otto to tackle him. The man's grip on Gladys' neck promptly released, and Gladys thoughtlessly kicked away, breathing quick, shallow breaths now that she could breathe again. Quickly, she looked over to see Jaune charging at the TC, who was fuming, "Nein! Hören Sie auf Ihren Vorgesetzten! Verrate deinesgleichen nicht!"

His rant was cut off by Jaune slamming into him, shield first. Gladys looked around a little more, then spotted Otto's belt, still lying on the ground from when she'd been tackled. Quickly, she ran over and grabbed it, then got the pistol out.

"Otto!" she yelled at the writhing mass of two black uniforms. For a few seconds, she hesitated, wanting not to hit Otto, before finally pulling the trigger.

Pop!

The round flew into the two and hit at least one of them, but it didn't slow the frenzy down. Jaune screamed about something- not in words, though, just a shriek of horror. Gladys turned over there, and found the German TC on the ground, bleeding from a nasty stab wound. With that dealt with, she turned back around, hands quivering as she looked uncertainly at the melee...

Pop! Pop-Pop!

Then fired another three rounds into it. That finally got the brawl to slow, then stop altogether, as one finally tore themself free of the other during a roll. Gladys stared at the closer one a moment and determined it was Otto; Otto, with two bullet holes in his sides. The other body had two in its head and one in the side. Quietly, Gladys walked over, then noted, "You... attacked your own crew."

Otto gave a weird, coughing chuckle, before finally saying, "I was," he coughed again, then finished, "Shot by them."

Gladys nodded quietly, and Jaune, who had walked over at some point or another, murmured, "I... I-I killed a man..."

"Good," Gladys said, "He was..."

She glanced at Otto a moment.

"An enemy," she finished, setting the pistol down near Otto's hand. The man smiled a little as he palmed it, and Gladys noted, "It's a unique piece. I suppose you don't want to lose it."

Otto coughed, then shook his head, "Walther..."

He sighed, and Jaune panicked, "I-Is he dying?"

"Well, he was shot a bit," Gladys pointed out, then realized, "And he'd go back to the rest of his crew..."

Otto nodded a moment, and Gladys shook her head, then instructed, "Keep him here. I have to get something."

"U-Uh, sure," Jaune responded dumbly, not really sure what the woman said. Quickly, Gladys ran off the way they'd come from, and Jaune thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you, uh, have your Aura?"

Otto stared questioningly at the boy, who said, "I, um, didn't have mine either, if it helps."

Otto asked, "What are you..."

His lungs rebelling cut off the rest of his sentence by sending him into a coughing fit, and Jaune backed away quickly, then murmured, "I, uh, think this mi~ight help."

He laid a hand on Otto, then said, "I... uh... h-how did it go? It was, um... by my shoulder..."

Otto heaved a sigh, then shook his head, "It is fine."

"N-No," Jaune shook his head, "I can do this. Just, um... for it is in passing... uh..."

Otto leaned back with a groan, laying entirely on the ground, his body now pale as a sheet. Jaune panicked, "I-It is in passsing, th-that we achieve, um, i-immortality. Through this, we... uh... become, um... a-a paragon of..."

He continued rambling, desperate to remember, for a little while, but nothing he wanted to happen happened. No light came from him to flow over the dying man, as it had gone from Pyrrha onto him. Otto didn't gasp in relief; he just seemed to sink deeper, then closed his eyes. Jaune finally trailed off and stopped, then asked, "A-Are you alive?"

There was no response. Jaune sighed, then realized, "I... I killed... two people..."

His gaze swept over to the other man he'd killed, laying on the ground in a puddle of blood. For a few moments, he stared, then tore his eyes away, covering them as tears started to fall. He only stopped crying when he heard Gladys ask, "Where... where has he gone?"

Jaune looked up at her, holding some bizarre, demented mix of a fire extinguisher, a set of wrenches, and a brown medical kit. A frown was on her face as she glanced around, and Jaune murmured, "H-He... he died..."

"And where's the body?" Gladys shot back. Jaune let out a deep sigh, looking where the body... rather suddenly, wasn't. There was no bloodstain, there was no dead man, there was just air where a martyr should've been. Jaune stared at that air a while, contemplating, and Gladys yelled, "Damnit!"

She sighed, then said, "Come with me, I still need someone to confirm that this all happened."

-Later

Emma sighed to herself, staring at the setting sun while a warm-ish breeze blew past her, causing the grass to tremble. It was really quite a beautiful evening; it was a shame it was being ruined by her commander turning the radio on and telling everyone they had to meet up at the tank. That, in Emma's mind, meant only one thing; Ribbans was going to get the rounds out from the rack and talk about how they weren't HE. Emma could barely fathom how she was supposed to have known- they were too small to have many details, after all. Besides, it made more sense to her that the gunner should have observed his effect on target enough to realize that his rounds weren't bloody exploding.

She shook her head quietly, dismissing that from her mind as she finally got to the tank... and noticed the turret was turned. The crew, though, was sat outside it on the grass, enjoying a pot of tea. Wordlessly, Emma sat down between Carney and Ribbans, and asked, "Mind poruing me a cuppa?"

"Of course," Carney nodded, grasping a tea cup and quickly pouring. Emma glanced around, and noticed a couple of things- for one, there were no biscuits. Quite a shame, as she was rather peckish. The other thing, though, was that there was a fifth person- a boy, in those Yankee jeans and something just enough like a proper, armored breastplate to recognize that it wasn't a proper, armored breastplate. Carney passed the now-full cup over to her, and Emma took it, while Ribbans pointed out, "Now that we're all here, we won't have to 'repeat unncecessarily'."

Gladys nodded, then informed, "There's another tank crew roaming around the school- a team of Krauts, in a Panzer III."

Emma sipped her cup, as Ribbans nodded, "Right. Met them in the woods, good to see them again."

"I suppose there's a reason we aren't truly 'seeing' them again?" Carney noted, to which Gladys said, "They were shooting at Jaune, here, and I knocked them out."

She indicated the boy, who murmured, "Uh... hi, everyone. I'm, uh, Jaune- c-can I go to my team now?"

"Now, what this means," Gladys said, "Is that we need to be ready for a Panzer to try and do their usual 'Blitzkrieg' shenanigans. Not very well, I may add- I did, after all, knock them out by myself. But they are still a tank, and we have to take the crew alive."

A long moment of silence passed after that.

"Have you got a plan for that?" Emma questioned. Gladys shook her head, and Ribbans suggested, "Blow their tracks out, I suppose?"

"Wait, they already died," Jaune pointed out. Gladys nodded, "Yes, but what if they come back while we're in a class? It would be just like the dastardly Hun to simply open fire then."

"I'm not going to agree to take shifts trying to blow Jerry's tracks out and pry 'em out of a hatch," Ribbans said, and Jaune agreed, "If they don't die... can they be stopped?"

"Yes," Gladys nodded, "We simply prevent them doing much of anything."

"But they're still alive," Jaune said, "Th-This is hopeless."

"Just have Ozpin make 'em students, too," Emma suggested, "They'll waste their time well enough, not getting to do anything."

"We've only been here a damn day," Ribbans said, seemingly retorting Emma. He paused a moment, letting that illusion set in place, before he added, "And I already know the Phoney was a better use of time."

"Has anyone got other suggestions on what to do?" Carney asked. There was no response. Quietly, Emma put her head down, then murmured, "I... suppose we're just doing a lot less fighting, is all."

"Guys, w-we have to leave," Jaune said, "If- if they really can't die, what can we do?"

"And I'm not going to be taking shifts, either," Emma said, to which Gladys noted, "Yet we don't do enough fighting."

"Being in combat and sitting around waiting are different things," Emma retorted, "You've made us faff about in a bush enough times for me to know."

"And do we even know they're coming back?" Ribbans questioned. Gladys sighed, and Carney informed, "While it may have been a joke, I should say Emma has made the best suggestion."

"Really?" Ribbans questioned, to which Emma agreed, "Wasn't even a good joke."

"If we could simply convince them that it isn't worth their while to try and attack here," Carney hypothesized, "They would then give up, and our problem would be solved."

"But they'd still be around!" Jaune pointed out. Gladys sighed, then informed, "You can leave, come to think of it."

"I'm getting out of here!" Jaune said, quickly running away, trampling over the teapot. Emma yelled, "You bastard!"

Ribbans huffed, "Are we sure we need to save him?"

Gladys sighed, then nodded, "Most probably."

"But not certainly," Carney noted.

Author's Note: To those of you who might say that the first sequence is unrealistic, and that one person couldn't do everything in a tank turret, I invite you to consider a couple of facts. One; I thought it was pretty cool, personally, though if you find the lack of sensibility to be less than ideal, please tell me and I'll make sure to bear it in mind. And two; the French had that sort of set-up in most of their tanks. Was it ineffective? Yes, and I will readily say it's really dumb. But they did still manage to get tank-on-tank kills with that set-up, as any Ouiaboo will tell you during their thirty-minute rant about the B1 and why the Battle of Stonne really proves it was so~o effective.