Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or World of Tanks

Gladys sighed to herself, sitting down for Glynda's class. Quickly, she cast a glance over at Emma, who quietly started unbuttoning her coat. Gladys shook her head quickly, but the loader- staring Gladys in the eyes- continued to unbutton all but the top-most one. Carney murmured, "I don't believe fighting has started yet."

Gladys nodded, whisper-shooting, "Button your shirt."

"It's not exactly comfortable to have a bloody MG in here with me, is it?" Emma pointed out far too loudly, "I've got an excuse to get it out now, and I'll take it."

Gladys sighed, shaking her head slightly... then, out of the corner of her eye, noticed the whole German crew approaching Glynda. She sighed at that, too, in sympathy, and Ribbans noted, "Might be needed, then."

"It wasn't needed yet," Gladys retorted, "Not badly enough to do that."

Whoosh!

"Ooh, you guys got a weapon?"

Gladys looked over, somewhat startled, to find Ruby had appeared just off to the side, looking intently at Emma. Quickly, she interdicted herself between the girl's eyes and the woman's far-too bare chest, and Ribbans suggested, "Button that back up."

"Bugger off, I've got my hands full," Emma retorted, and Ruby agreed, "You're unfolding the weapon here, right, which is why I couldn't see it earlier? How many folds does it have?"

"How in Christ's name would you fold a gun?" Emma blurted, and Ribbans noted, "Far too busy to stop to button your damn coat back up."

"Oh, shut it, we can teach the brat a thing or two," Emma retorted, and Carney noted, "Though, in your present state that would be less than advisable."

"Uh, hey," Ruby interjected, "I don't care if she's naked."

Once again, Gladys felt the second-hand force of staring, and quickly whisper-shot, "She's not naked- and Emma, button your coat up!"

"Your idea to stuff it under," Emma pointed out, and Ribbans retorted, "Were you just going to carry it about in a basket we don't have?"

"I could just carry it about the old fashioned way," Emma bickered, and Carney pointed out, "Our being warmongers is perhaps not the best appearance to have."

"What if you just clipped it to your clothes?" Ruby suggested, "That's what I do with Rosie."

Schwing!

Gladys yelped in surprise as a giant metal scythe appeared abruptly from the thin air just in front of her face, and promptly heard Weiss object, "Ruby!"

"See, and I have my cape, too, and no one can even tell that I have a weapon," Ruby continued, and Emma shot, "I'm not wearing a damn cape."

"Sh-Shouldn't, uh, y-you be with your team?" Gladys mumbled, eyes fixed on the well-polished, incredibly sharp looking blade, "A-And n-not having a weapon out?"

"We're in dueling class, so it's all good," Ruby answered, and Emma agreed, "There'd be nothing wrong with just carrying this mess the way it's meant to be."

"I-I, ah, still think i-it would be a bit t-too intimidating," Gladys stammered, eyes still glued to the blade, and Ruby argued, "You could make it cute, though."

"It's a machine gun," Ribbans bickered, "How's it supposed to be cute?"

"Uh... paint it?" Ruby answered, "I mean, you'd probably have to make a new one if you really wanted it to be cute. Or you could attach parts- uh, there's this scope I was going to buy that was just adorable, you could get that. If you'd let me look I could really tell you."

"No," Gladys said, shaking her head, "And, uh, besides, c-class r-really ought to be starting, ah, soon, so you'd best run along."

"Maybe even jog off," Emma shot, and Ribbans complimented, "Good one."

"Mightn't it be best to focus on the task in hands?" Carney pointed out, and Emma shot, "The opportunity was there, and... ah, nice."

"C'mon, just button up so I can see the gun already!" Ruby pleaded, and Ribbans pointed out, "Tank's not here, so we can't really do that."

This actually managed to be so amusing to Gladys that she finally took her eyes off the blade, chuckling slightly. Ruby bubbled, "Oh, wouldn't it be cool if you could use the tank in-"

She was cut off by the bell loudly ringing, and quickly adopted a pouting face. When it finally ended, she whined, "I wanted to see the machine gun."

She then zoomed off. Gladys sighed in relief, looking forward... and seeing that Glynda wasn't yet in her usual, center-stage position. Well, as usual as anything could be after a few mere days of knowing the woman. Regardless, it was still a departure from the norm, and there was a reason for it; she was still standing about, debating something with the Krauts. Gladys stared for a long moment, noticing how Hans and Fritz were both kicking up dust in their temper tantrums while Otto stood like a pillar that gave people far too much personal space, and Karl and Jerry stood off to the side muttering something with each other. Perhaps the oddest thing, though, was that Hans was bickering and not shooting- the reason being that his Luger, and Fritz's Mauser, were hovering just out of reach.

For a few moments, the teacher continued not-really talking with them- more glaring at them so hard that it spoke louder than words. Yet this still wasn't enough to stop Hans' tantrum, and the man continued stomping about and shouting with increasing volume, to the point that Gladys could almost make out words- or, in her mind, what passed for words in the German language. She glanced at Otto again, staring as she wondered what was going on, hoping the loader would do something to clear things up. After a long moment, Otto looked up.

"- bei Gott, meine Seele gehört mir, und meine Seele schreit danach, diesen dreckigen Mischling zu erledigen! Gib mir meine Waffe und nenne es ein Duell, wenn du musst, aber lass mich ihn ermorden, lass mich sein Blut auf diesem Boden vergiessen und Zeigen Sie, wie tückisch er im Inneren ist, indem Sie ihn der Luft öffnen!" Hans continued screaming. Otto sighed quietly, having heard the bell and wondering why the teacher wasn't simply making them go to their seats, and with the thought, looked to those seats. A veritable crowd of people were there, just like before, but the red-shirted English tankers stood out. For a long moment, Otto said nothing, just as he had been doing for a while, and let Hans continue to shout, just as he had been doing.

There were so many eyes looking down, though, waiting for class to begin. And Otto knew a way he could get that to happen, to move things along. With another sigh, he stepped forward, and informed, "Ich bin bereit, dies zu tun, wenn es hilft."

Fritz nodded enthusiastically, "Wie bereit er zu sterben ist – siehst du nicht, Lehrer? Er hat seine eigene Korruption erkannt und wir bieten ein Heilmittel an, eine Lösung, eine, die Sie uns verwehren würden!"

"Ich habe bereits eine Person in dieser Arena sterben lassen, ich werde keine weitere haben," the teacher retorted, "Gehen Sie jetzt zu Ihren Plätzen."

"Gut gut! Ich werde meine Fäuste einsetzen, und ich werde ihm das Ausmass seines Verrats einprügeln, und ich werde ihn in Schande leben lassen, weil er Reich und Führer verlassen hat!" Hans shouted, "Aber lassen Sie mich hier und jetzt schlagen, wo alle Anwesenden den Ruhm eines reinen Ariers sehen werden, wo die teuflischen Briten sehen werden, dass sie nicht gewinnen können! LASSEN SIE MICH!"

The teacher shot, "Kommen Sie jetzt auf Ihre Plätze. Hier zu sein ist ein Privileg, junger Mann-"

"Ich bin Hans Karlson, Ass der Panzerkampfwagen, SS-Soldat und treues Instrument des Führers!" Hans fumed, "Du hast kein Recht, mir ein Privileg zu verweigern, widerliche, schulbewohnende, Ressourcen stehlende Zivilistin!"

One of the guns promptly floated down and conked him on the head, and Otto thought he heard Karl mutter a curse. He and Jerry had distanced themselves from both the commander and Otto- understandable, really, especially to Otto. The teacher commanded, "Der Schulleiter entscheidet, ob Sie bleiben können. Gehen Sie jetzt zu Ihren Plätzen."

"Fest steht und treu die Wacht, die Wacht am Rhein!" Fritz sang at complete random, "Fest steht und treu die Wacht, die Wacht am Rhein!"

The guns clattered to the ground, and this time it was Fritz and Hans who were picked up, and floated through the air into a few empty seats. Otto murmured, "Ich konnte nicht mehr tun."

The woman shot a glare at him as he left, then shot, "Diese bleiben vorerst hier."

"Unser Kommandant wird ohne seinen kostbaren P08 wütend sein," Otto heard Jerry saying behind him, and Karl agreed, "Zumindest wütender als-"

His words fell away as he let out a startled yell, and floated above Otto's head, towards Hans and Fritz. Otto let out a quiet sniff of amusement at that, and continued walking off the arena and eventually ended up back with his crew. As he-

"Geht zu den Inselaffen, um untereinander Dreck zu werfen!" Hans shot before Otto even sat down. Quickly, he nodded, and headed over to where Gladys was seated.

"Mister Arc, it's your turn to select an opponent," Glynda said as Otto sat down. Nearby, a boy with blonde hair- the boy from when he'd been a prisoner, Otto realized- stood up, and stammered, "Uh... um... u-uh-"

"Class has already been delayed enough, mister Arc," Glynda said, and the boy blurted, "H-Him!"

He indicated another boy- a man, really- with brown hair. He sat probably a head higher than everyone else in the room even while in the odd, v-shaped slouch he was in, and was already wearing what looked like a suit of medieval armor. The boy smirked a little, then nodded, "Let's go, Jaune-y."

The boy shivered such that it was visible even from a distance, and Glynda informed, "You both have five minutes to prepare."

"Y-Yeah. Preparing for, uh, fighting someone," the boy said as he left, "Sure thing."

A long moment of silence passed, and Otto looked around, then asked, "Are we meant to be doing something?"

"Can think of one thing I should be doing," the Englishwoman who Otto didn't know yet shot, patting the machine gun on their lap. Gladys quickly shook her head, "No."

"What is it we should be doing?" Otto asked, and the Englishwoman answered, "Fighting you."

The other Englishmen laughed, and Gladys sighed. Otto nodded, "It would be like good times."

"Better times when they're aren't any Jerries to deal with," the Englishman said, and Otto noted, "Then who would drive a tank for you to fight?"

The Englishwoman snorted in amusement, and noted, "Might be some hope for him after all."

Gladys nodded, then introduced, "Otto, this is my crew- Emma is the loader, Ribbans is my gunner, and Carney is my driver."

"Do you have no radio operator?" Otto questioned, and Gladys shook her head. Ribbans asked, "What are you, anyway?"

"I am loader for Herr Karlson," Otto answered, "And usually acting commander."

Ribbans snorted, Emma chuckled, and Carney nodded, "I suppose he has a great need for that."

Their conversation was, at that point, finally cut off by the two competitors coming to the stage. Jaune was now in a suit of armor of his own- admittedly, one which was far from complete. Notably, the only bits on his legs were a pair of knee-pads, and his arms only had small bits of armor on the outside of his upper arms. His opponent, though, was only a little better-equipped, having not changed at all and thusly still only covering the upper-most sides of his legs and his crotch. It was in the arms that the other boy excelled beyond Jaune; he had paudlrons, a full piece on each of his upper arms, and another piece of armor for his lower arms. The only parts he was missing were gauntlets and a covering for the joints, something that was of debatable use for how much it hindered movement- particularly important when considering that both boys looked young and inexperienced. Still, for it all, neither had more than their upper torsos covered, nor any sort of helmet.

"Who'd'you reckon'll win?" Emma murmured. Ribbans answered, "The big one, I suppose."

"It will come to who can strike first," Otto suggested, "Both can hit the other's kidneys and legs."

"All biggun's got is a sword," Emma pointed out, "Hardly going to stab someone."

"Let's not forget that he has more armor," Gladys interjected, "It could well be that Jaune misses his strike or somesuch."

Bzzt!

A loud buzzer sounded, and both boys started running towards each other. Gladys sighed, "Besides which, Jaune'll be slowed down by that shield he doesn't seem to use."

Otto nodded in agreement, watching as the kite-shield flailed about in the air wildly while Jaune ran forwards with seemingly no thought. It was odd, he though; the boy had used the shield when he'd fought Hans. Why didn't he now?

The answer- that there was simply no reason to bother- was soon enough in coming, as the larger boy swung his mace in an odd, upwards arc. The reason this brought Otto to the aforementioned conclusion was how the mace caught Jaune squarely in the torso, lifted him from the ground, and threw him away, screaming and plummeting onto his back on the ground. Jaune scrambled and stood up while the larger boy strode slowly, arrogantly forward, mocking, "I thought chickens couldn't fly."

Jaune looked over, then tossed his shield aside and held his sword with both hands, giving a swing which... was wildly out of range. The larger boy simply stood and let the blade whoosh a good foot in front of his torso, before bringing his mace upwards and slamming it to the ground in a quick, vicious downward strike. Jaune crumpled, hit in the shoulder by the mace and dragged down to again laying on the floor. The larger boy put his foot on the prone body, and-

Bzzt!

"That's enough, mister Winchester," the teacher said. Otto let out a sigh of relief, and Glynda requested, "Choose another opponent."

The large boy got off of the smaller one by pressing his leg into their torso to give momentum and then pivoting himself away. Jaune coughed as he rolled away, and the larger boy said, "How about the guy who wanted a fight earlier?"

Glynda hesitated a moment, and Otto sighed, "This will not end well..."

"Mister Karlson," Glynda instructed, "You have five minutes to prepare yourself."

-Later

Hans smirked to himself confidently, striding onto the stage and facing his opponent. On the other side of the arena, he stood- so tall up close but now so small, and so weak. Cardin Winchester, the boy who had the gall to challenge him, Hans Karlson, Ass der Panzerkampfwagen, to a duel. The boy, for his part, had a smirk, too. Wordlessly, Hans gripped his Luger in its holster, and waited.

Bzz- Pop! Pop! Pop!

Before the buzzer had even finished sounding, Hans had his Luger out and fired three wild shots while he rotated his body. Most sane people held a pistol in a sane way; with both hands firmly on the weapon, feet spread out, all to try and minimize the effect of recoil. It was, after all, a gun. Hans, though, could hardly be considered sane, if at all, and one of the reasons presented itself here, as he stood in a pose not unlike a swordsman, arm stretched all the way out as he fired.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Click.

And then swore, seeing how the boy hadn't stopped, and hearing his gun click rather than fire another round. Quickly, Hans fumbled about his person, trying to find another magazine, hearing heavy steps coming closer and closer. Finally, he got it, and looked up from his coat, only to see the boy just in front of him, mace held high.

An indescribable, half-wet squelching noise was what came next, as the heavy object came down on Hans' thick skull, crushing it in an instant. The man's body awkwardly crumpled to the ground, a river of blood pouring out from the neck. Cardin hesitated a long moment, then murmured, "Wh-Why was he here?"

-Even later

"So... do none of you have your Auras unlocked?" Yang asked, approaching the spot where Gladys and her crew had, that day and all days previous and very likely to be all days in the future, sat down for teatime. Gladys looked up, and Carney noted, "I'm not sure why you'd call it an aura, but if you can drive the tank off, then yes, it is unlocked."

"She meant your Aura," Blake, standing next to Yang, said, and Yang shook her head, "No, actually- you guys leave those big things unlocked?"

"We leave ours unlocked," Gladys informed, "I can't say I know what the Germans do, though it's probably the same."

"You sure they don't have some sort of 'panzerkampfenwagenlockenkraftengewehrgeschutzenfahrzoig?'" Ribbans joked, and Emma nodded, "Or maybe the reason they're such freaks is because they just skulk about there to keep it secure."

Gladys chuckled awkwardly, and Yang guessed, "So the guys in the cool uniforms are Germans?"

"The people who have taken to playing dress-up as warcriminals," Gladys answered, "Are Germans. We've nothing to do with them."

"You both have tanks," Blake pointed out, and Yang nodded, "And the one guy was hanging out with you."

"Were you thinking everyone with a tank was someone we knew?" Ribbans questioned. Gladys explained, "We have met them a few times, but on the whole, they are their own crew, going about their own business."

She looked over, quickly spotted them tailing behind a young girl, and finished, "Which, for the moment, seems to be trouble-causing."

"Alright," Yang shrugged, "See ya."

"Toodles," Emma said. As soon as the girls were out of earshot, she grumbled, "What a pair of nimbos, interrupting tea and not even asking to join."

"Not to mention their thoughts on uniforms," Gladys put in, "Not a surprise from Blake in black, but to hear Yang praise those overly-stylized roleplaying outfits..."

Whoosh!

"Can I see the gun now?" Ruby excitedly asked. Gladys looked over at the girl, and Emma shot, "I already put it away, so no."

"Ooh, can I see it after school?" Ruby asked, "You could come by the workshop- I was going to clean Rosie anyway."

Emma sighed, then agreed, "Not anything better to do."

"Cool!" Ruby excitedly said, then dashed away. The loader sighed, and Ribbans asked, "Want a gunner about to try and make her think we can shoot well?"

"No," Emma said, shaking her head, "Just thinking- we have Germans about, why don't we just do what we always do and fight them?"

"It would probably damage the school," Gladys noted, to which Ribbans retorted, "I'll be careful where I shoot."

"But would the Krauts be so careful?" Carney pointed out. Ribbans hesitated a moment, then sighed, "Alright."

"I hate to admit it, but," Emma said, hesitating a moment in the middle of her thought, then finishing, "Commander, you remember how you were thinking of just going back in the forest?"

"What?" Ribbans shot, and Gladys reminded, "On our first day here."

Ribbans paused, then nodded, "Oh, yeah. And we all agreed that was daft."

"Seems more daft to have nothing to do," Emma noted, and Ribbans shot, "Not to me, it doesn't."

"It would make us lose classtime," Gladys noted, and Ribbans questioned, "Is that meant to be pleading for this or against it?"

"Besides which," Carney contributed, "A more limited expedition, done with our current vehicle's speed, could be done in a matter of hours."

"You're not arguing for this too, are you?" Ribbans balked, and Carney shook his head, "Those hours would still be the hours we would sleep in."

"Pish posh," Emma said, and Gladys informed, "There's simply not a reason to go out and about in the forest like hooligans, however tempting it would be to have a reason to do something..."

-Saturday

Gladys sighed to herself, walking up to the door of Peaches' classroom, mentally preparing for yet another day of classes. Wordlessly, she pushed at the door handle-

Thud.

And paused a moment in surprise.

"You have to twist it," Ribbans reminded, and Gladys nodded, "I know how to use a door- I've done it before."

"Well, you didn't twist it," Ribbans pointed out. Gladys huffed, then looked down at the handle and tried to twist it. With an emphasis on 'tried'; the thing refused to rotate more than two degrees. Emma said, "Let me handle it."

Gladys sighed, then stepped back, allowing her loader, strong from handling shells, take her place. The woman grasped the handle, and tried to twist; again, with an emphasis on tried, due to only achieving the same effect Gladys had. Quietly, Carney put in, "It could be locked."

"I'll get it, I'll get it," Emma shot, trying again. This time, the loader tried for a while, even putting a second hand on the handle- all to no avail. The door remained stuck. Emma shot, "The blasted thing won't budge!"

"I think it might be locked," Gladys said, and Ribbans questioned, "Why would it be locked?"

Gladys said nothing, because she didn't actually have any reason to give. The gunner nodded, "Exactly. Here, let me try."

"It won't move," Emma shot, and Ribbans retorted, "It has before."

"It's probably just locked," Gladys reminded, then heard approaching footsteps. Quickly, she turned, and found the crew of Krauts approaching. Otto waved friendily, and Gladys sighed, then noted, "I suppose they'll just blast the knob off."

"Who's it now?" Emma questioned, and Gladys informed, "Hun's coming from my rear."

"Well we can't get in," Ribbans pointed out, and Gladys pointed out, "If we just walk off now, we can let them handle the situation with their lack of tact, and take advantage afterwards."

Quickly, she started walking off, followed by the rest of her crew. Elsewhere, Hans let out a derisive snort, mocking, "Sie sind bereits auf der Flucht, Feiglinge."

"Sie sind nicht sehr schnell darin," Karl pointed out, and Jerry retorted, "Dafür sind ihre Panzerkampfwagen gut, langsam zu sein."

Triumphantly, Hans approached the door, and opened it swiftly-

Thud.

-or tried to, anyway. An explanation was soon coming, if we move back to Gladys and her crew, as they were fast approaching professor Peaches herself. The woman shortly greeted, "Why are you in here?"

"Good to see you," Gladys said, "I don't suppose you could unlock the door? I'd be willing to help look for where all the others must've run off to when they figured out it wouldn't open."

Almost as soon as she finished the sentence, Hans' started screeching something or other at the door. Peaches' let out a sigh, then informed, "It's the weekend. Go somewhere else."

Before Gladys could question what that meant, the woman strode off to deal with the fuming Kraut commander. Finally, Gladys noted, "I... suppose we all ought to do whatever it is we do after school, then."

"We wouldn't be missing classtime, right?" Emma noted. Gladys paused, then nodded, "I suppose not."

"Certainly not losing sleep, either," Carney noted. Ribbans sighed, then shot, "Fine. But I say we take out the Panzer before we do anything."

"That was never in question," Gladys said with a smile.

Author's Note: For those of you who care, I will admit; I don't know whether the Besa, as mounted in a tank, would actually be able to be disassembled/assembled other than in a workshop. Again, there is a distinct lack of anything talking in-depth about the Besa. Now, then, why did I feel the need to include that whole bit? Simple; I literally just forgot to mention how they were transporting it before, and couldn't think of any other way that was plausible both in ability to be done and reason to be done. On a related note, I won't actually be writing that interaction between Emma, the Besa, and Ruby; I simply don't know enough about the weapon, or have enough sources of information about the weapon, to go into any of the depth that would be required for Ruby to be at all in-character. Apologies!

As for the Port thing, I think I've said it before but I'm ninety-percent sure that Port's class is actually meant to be the last class of the day, since it is followed by RWBY being out of school both times that it's featured. Plus, it's easier to faff about with professor Peaches, since no one can object to the characterization of someone whose only mentioned in the show.