Armoured Corps Training Academy, Meppen, Lower Saxony, Germany

Date: January 5, 2012

In the fields of what used to be a Bundeswehr weapons testing site, now transformed into a military academy for aspiring German tankers, a camouflaged Tiger tank numbered 205 sits hidden in the treeline. Its commander, Voss, waits patiently for their prey. Today, tankers are engaged in a training exercise using WWII-era German tanks, though the academy also employs early and late Cold War-era tanks for different training scenarios and tournaments. Much like their counterparts in Japan, America, Great Britain, France, and Russia, these tank academies train young male and female teenagers to become exceptional armored officers. They also host domestic and international tournaments to determine the best tanker in the world and the top training school.

In the field, the Tiger tank numbered 205 spots another target entering its line of sight.

"Schultz, enemy panzer, 1 o'clock, range 500 meters," commands Voss.

The gunner, Schultz, swings the turret around and locks onto the target. "On target!"

"AP loaded!" confirms the loader.

"Fire!" orders Voss.

"On the way!" Schultz fires the Tiger's powerful 8.8cm gun, knocking the enemy Panzer IV out of action, indicated by a white flag popping up and fluttering in the breeze.

"Target down, cease fire. Good work, Tigergruppe. Deinhart, get us moving. Hess, inform the others that we're on the move," Voss instructs.

"Yes, Kommandant Voss," replies Hess.

"Uh, we have a problem, Kommandant. Our Panzergruppe has been knocked out by Gunther's Panzer platoon. We're on our own," reports Hess.

"Damn it, I didn't expect Gunther to be here," Voss curses.

"But, Kommandant, he's always competing with you," the loader remarks.

"You're right. Okay, let's move to point E75 and avoid the main road. Aldrich, I want you to load as fast as you can. We can expect Gunther's panzers to be aggressive," Voss directs.

"Jawohl, Kommandant!" Aldrich loads an armor-piercing shell into the breech.

"We mustn't fight Gunther's Königstiger head-on, or we'll be toasted before we even know it," Voss warns.

"Jawohl!" the crew responds in unison.

Tiger 205 moves through the battleground as the sole survivor of Voss's Tiger Group. Voss is one of the academy's ten tank aces, ranking second, with Gunther holding the top spot and commanding a Königstiger to signify his status.

"Do you guys remember when we drifted a Leopard 2A6?" Deinhart asks.

"Yeah, that was the best experience I've had at the academy. What about you, Voss?" Schultz inquires.

"Facing the British in their 'Tommy cookers' was a lot of fun, especially against their commander, Blackmore. He's a worthy adversary. I hope to fight him again," Voss recalls.

"Do you think she's watching?" Hess asks Voss.

"Who? Oh, her? Yeah, she's always watching our matches," Voss responds.

"Are you going to hang out with her?" Hess presses.

"Of course. She's a good friend. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't visit her?" Voss replies.

"You act differently when you're around her," Aldrich teases with a smug look.

"Oi, I heard you can do 200 push-ups. What if I told you to do 400 as a penalty for your performance in class, and I'll show it to your mother?" Voss retorts.

"Uh... okay, sir. Shutting up now," Aldrich concedes.

"Good," Voss affirms.

The tank remains quiet for the rest of the journey until they reach their destination. Voss opens the hatch, exposing his torso to get a better view of his surroundings. He scans the area with his binoculars and spots Gunther's Panzergruppe in battle formation, with the Königstiger front and center.

"Holy shit! Even though we've only faced him twice, seeing a group of enemy Panzers in formation gives me chills," Deinhart said.

"Alright, they're heading for point F25. Deinhart, take us there. We'll ambush them from the tree line; the terrain offers a great vantage point. If we trap them, we can take out half the Panzers," Voss commanded.

"Understood, heading there now." Deinhart maneuvered the Tiger I into position, finding a semi-elevated spot overlooking the dirt path. To their left lay an open field, while a tall hill loomed to the right-ideal for target practice if any tank tried to escape.

"Let's set up. It'll take them an hour and a half to arrive-plenty of time to dig in and camouflage," Voss said.

"So, we're going out?" Hess asked.

"Yes, Hess. Grab your shovels and start digging with me."

The crew dismounted, shovels in hand, and began to excavate a hull-down position. Once finished, Deinhart drove the tank in, and they camouflaged it with branches and leaves. They mounted back inside and waited for the enemy to arrive, passing the time with rations and tea.

An hour later, Voss spotted the first tanks from Gunther's panzer group-Panzer III and IVs.

"Don't fire; it's just a scouting force. Save ammo for the Panthers and Gunther's Tiger."

"Roger that."

Soon, two Panthers and two JagdPanthers appeared, followed by a King Tiger and more Panzer IVs.

"Here we go. Aldrich, load an APC round and halt the motor," Voss commanded.

"Hydraulic takeoff, 600 P-S to turret," Deinhart replied.

"Target acquired. Fire at will."

"Here she comes," Schultz grinned, firing the 88mm gun and destroying the lead tank.

"Target the last one."

"Acquired."

"Round up!"

"On the way." Schultz fired again, eliminating the last tank and trapping the enemy column.

The middle tanks struggled to bypass the wreckage, but the veteran crew acted quickly, knocking out another Panther.

"Shoot everything in there, Schultz."

"Roger that... on the way."

The enemy column deployed smoke, but Voss knew they'd turn and charge.

"Are they really going to throw themselves at us?" Hess asked.

"We can handle the Panthers, but Gunther's tank is a concern-" Voss ducked as a round zipped by. "Take out that JagdPanther!"

"I'm on it!" Schultz swung the turret.

"Round loaded!"

"Firing!" The shot bounced off the sloped armor. "Damn it!"

"Again! Shoot it again!"

"Firing!" The second round struck true, knocking out the tank.

"Knocked out! Next target!"

The Tiger crew took down another Panther, leaving only Gunther and his King Tiger. Gunther fired, narrowly missing Voss.

Voss returned fire, but his shot bounced off the King Tiger's turret. Gunther's next shot nearly hit home.

"Their aim is getting closer!" Voss shouted.

"Hess, you're not helping!" Deinhart snapped.

"Neither are you!" Hess retorted.

"Schultz, we need a mobility kill!"

"Understood. Firing!" Schultz immobilized the enemy tank by taking out a track.

"Deinhart, get around him-we're targeting his side armor. Aldrich, load APCR."

"Jawohl, kommandant! Driving us out of this ditch."

"Round loaded."

"I'm tracking." The Tiger emerged from its position, closing in on Gunther's tank.

"Holy shit, it's following us!" Hess exclaimed.

"Steady... c'mon..."

The King Tiger fired but missed again, the round deflecting off the side.

"Fire!"

"On the way!" The Tiger struck the weaker side armor of Gunther's tank.

"One more! One more!"

"Round up!" Schultz fired, knocking out the King Tiger.

"Cease fire, cease fire! Phew..." Just as Voss reached for his canteen, a 37mm round disabled his tracks. "Tigergruppe, enemy Panzers, 9 o'clock!"

"Track disabled!" Schultz shouted.

"Firing!" The 88mm gun took out one of the Panzer IIIs, but a Panzer IV flanked and set the Tiger on fire.

The Panzer IV commander opened his hatch. "You forgot about us while focusing on your commander."

"Yep, stupid mistake," Voss admitted.

"Still, good game. We enjoyed it," the commander replied.

"Panzergruppe 3 has been eliminated. Panzergruppe 1 has proven its superiority once again," the announcer declared.

[Academy, locker room]

Back at the academy in the locker room, crews from various panzer groups congratulated each other after the training match, exchanging camaraderie as a sign of good sportsmanship. Laughter and playful banter filled the air, creating a warm atmosphere amid the competitive spirit.

Meanwhile, Voss switched out of his usual WWII erbsenmuster-pattern tanker uniform into the academy's standard attire, which strikingly resembled the classic black tanker uniforms. As he organized his belongings, a boy his age approached him. He had bright blue eyes and short, neatly combed brown hair, held perfectly in place with hair gel.

"Nice game out there," Gunther said with a grin.

"Yes, Gunther, it was a solid match," Voss replied, trying to mask his fatigue.

"You keep this up, and you might just become the top student in the academy. I didn't expect one tank to take out almost everyone in my group."

"I was just being patient," Voss said, raising an eyebrow. "So, what do you want?"

"Just wanted to congratulate you for nearly defeating us," Gunther said, his smile wide.

"I suppose I should congratulate you for dispatching my group almost instantly."

"Ah, don't be too hard on them; they still have a lot to learn."

"Yeah, it's going to be a long, painful process..." Just then, the school bell rang, cutting through their conversation.

"Welp, time for some boring-ass classes. See you soon, Max." Gunther turned and headed for the door.

"You too, Gunther," Voss called after him, then turned back to his locker.

As Voss and the others filed back into their classrooms, boredom quickly settled in. Some students dozed off, while others whispered or doodled. To combat the monotony, Voss began sketching Tiger 205, showcasing his talent for both realistic and anime-style drawings. When he wasn't in the mood to draw, he would secretly text his friend during lectures. How they managed to evade detection remained a mystery.

Midway through a particularly droning history lesson, the school's loudspeakers crackled to life. "Calling Maximillian Voss II of section 3. Calling Maximillian Voss II to the headmaster's office."

A murmur of curiosity rippled through the classroom. Whispers swirled around him as students speculated on the reason for his summons. Voss's mind raced with possibilities. 'Great, what the hell did I do now? Did someone rat me out for texting? Whoever it is, I'll make them regret it. But what if it's about my parents? Better tread carefully.'

As he walked toward the headmaster's office, his imagination conjured all sorts of scenarios. His school was strict about public displays of affection, and although he and his friend were just close companions, he couldn't shake the nagging worry.

Knocking lightly on the heavy wooden door, he heard a voice from inside. "Come in."

Voss opened the door to find the headmaster sitting behind a large oak desk, his jet-black hair and brown eyes contrasting sharply with the room's decor.

"You called for me?" Voss asked, maintaining a respectful stance.

"Sit down, please," the headmaster instructed.

"No thanks. I can stand." Voss felt a mix of defiance and nervousness.

"Very well," the headmaster said, steepling his fingers. "The reason I called you here is that we've received a request from Japan. They require some expert assistance, and we thought you would be a good fit."

"Okay, but why me? Why not Gunther?" Voss asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Gunther is busy handling other academy business. We decided to send our second-best ace along with your crew, of course."

"What about our tank?" Voss inquired, feeling protective of Tiger 205.

"You'll take Tiger 205 with you; it will be airlifted by the Air Force," the headmaster assured him. "But you won't be going alone. You'll be collaborating with the British from Montgomery Armored College and the Americans from Bradley Armored Corps. I trust you're familiar with some of them?"

"I see. So when do I leave?" Voss asked, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"Tomorrow. Oh, and you'll earn extra points for participating. If your crew helps the school you're assisting to become national champions, additional points will be awarded to them," the headmaster added with a slight smile.

"Got it."

"Good. You may leave now. Safe travels next week."

"Safe travels next week," Voss echoed, feeling the weight of the moment.

As he stepped out of the office, the headmaster's voice lingered in the air, echoing in Voss's mind. "Safe travels next week... next week..."

With a mix of anxiety and anticipation, Voss made his way back to class, wondering what challenges awaited him in Japan and how this unexpected journey would shape his future.

Date: January 12, 2012

Location: Unknown

"Oi mate, wake up! Wake up, mate, we're here!" A British voice broke through the haze of Voss's sleep.

Voss groaned, blinking against the light as he slowly opened his eyes. He found himself face to face with a pale boy in a black beret and tan tanker overalls reminiscent of the British uniforms from WWII. The boy's short brown hair peeked out from beneath the beret, and his warm brown eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

"Who are you again?" Voss asked, struggling to remember the boy's name.

"You don't remember? It's me, David Blackmore from the Montgomery Armoured Corps of Engineering! I thought you'd remember me," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Blackmore... Oh, right! Blackmore! Damn, sorry, I didn't recognize you. My memory's a bit fuzzy after sleeping," Voss admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I figured," Blackmore replied, chuckling.

"Davie, has our kraut friend awakened yet?" A second boy stepped in, his accent thick with an American drawl.

"Yes, he's awake, McKay. He's awake," Blackmore confirmed.

"Good. The pilot said we're about to land. We don't want our faces to look bad when we introduce ourselves to the hosts," McKay said, adjusting his cap.

"Where are we, anyway?" Voss asked, peering around the cramped cabin.

"In the middle of the ocean, mate. And you wouldn't believe what you're going to see. Come on, let me show you," Blackmore said, leading Voss to a small window.

As Voss looked out, his breath caught in his throat. Before him stretched a colossal floating town, its structure based on the Zuikaku aircraft carrier. It was massive-far beyond anything he had imagined. German engineering was impressive, but this? This was on another level. "What the hell is this?" he exclaimed, eyes wide.

"I know, right? A floating town," Blackmore replied, grinning.

"Hey, we're about to land, so gather your crew!" McKay shouted, urgency in his tone.

"Okay, we heard you. Come on, lad, gather your crew and form up," Blackmore said, leaving Voss to regroup with his team.

Voss hurriedly collected his crew, their bags slung over their shoulders.

"Hess, pass me some of that hair gel!" Voss called out.

"Here you go," Hess said, tossing a small tube to Deinhart.

"Where's our panzer?" Voss asked, feeling a bit uneasy.

"You forgot? The Air Force is delivering it for us! And the British and Americans didn't hold back-they sent in their Comet and an M26 Pershing," Schultz replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Just then, the cargo plane touched down on an airstrip, taxied smoothly off the runway, and came to a halt. The cargo ramp opened, and the crews stepped off the plane, immediately greeted by the salty scent of the Pacific Ocean. It was a refreshing change from the stale air they had just endured.

As they disembarked, a second cargo plane landed nearby, preparing to offload their tanks.

"Careful, careful!" one of McKay's crew shouted, guiding their driver as they maneuvered the Pershing off the plane. Moments later, it was Tiger 205's turn to roll down the ramp, followed closely by the Comet. Once all the tanks were offloaded, the C-5 Globemaster III took off, returning to its base.

"So, where do we go from here?" asked McKay's driver, looking at the maps.

"It says we need to head for... Oarai High School? How the bloody hell do you pronounce that?" Blackmore muttered, squinting at the paper.

"High school? Why the hell do we need to be in a high school?" McKay questioned, scratching his head.

"Perhaps that's where the message for 'help' originated," Voss suggested, brow furrowed in thought.

"Right... Craft, follow the Comet. Wherever it takes us," McKay instructed.

"Roger that, sir. We're moving!" The Pershing roared to life, leading the column of tanks through the streets of the floating town.

As they rolled through the bustling community, they caught the attention of curious locals who emerged from their homes, snapping pictures and recording videos of the tanks. It was clear that the sight of armored vehicles rolling through their streets was a rarity.

"Look, Ma! Tanks!" a young boy exclaimed, tugging at his mother's sleeve.

"Tanks? It's been a long time since I've seen one in Oarai," an elderly woman remarked, her eyes gleaming with nostalgia.

"Did they finally reform their tankery team?" another onlooker speculated.

"Is that a boy commanding a tank? I thought tankery was only for girls?" a young girl whispered to her friend.

"Maybe it's the foreigners? The colors of their tanks look different from Saunders, Black Forest, and St. Gloriana," another resident chimed in.

"Alright, chaps, stop here," Blackmore said, bringing the convoy to a halt. He stepped out of the vehicle, approaching a local. "Pardon me, sir, but where is Oarai High School?" he asked in Japanese, his British accent adding a charming twist.

The local man smiled, providing directions, and Blackmore bowed respectfully. "Thank you very much!" he said, a broad grin on his face as he returned to the group.

"Alright, let's move out!" Voss called to his crew, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. Whatever awaited them at Oarai High School, he knew one thing for sure: it was going to be an adventure like no other.

"Alright, let's move it on, lads! Christian, forward!" Blackmore commanded, his voice firm and clear.

"Understood, Commander," Christian, the Scottish driver, replied, expertly maneuvering the tank onto the main street.

Voss glanced out at the neighborhood, taking in the clean, picturesque streets lined with charming Japanese houses. "You know, this place is beautiful," he remarked, his admiration evident as they drove past manicured gardens and traditional architecture. "It's clean, except for the tank tracks."

As the tank column approached Oarai High School, they slowed to a halt, waiting for someone to greet them. It didn't take long for three high school girls to stride confidently toward them, their school uniforms crisp and their expressions curious.

"Hey! You must be the help we called for, right?" said the shortest girl, her long twin ponytails swaying as she spoke. Her reddish-brown hair glinted in the sunlight, and she held a bag of dried potatoes, a snack clearly enjoyed during their day.

"Indeed we are," Blackmore replied, stepping down from the tank. "And you must be?"

"Kadotani Anzu, president of the student council at Oarai. Nice to meet you, Blackmore!" she said, offering a polite bow.

"Ah, so you know our names? Splendid!" Blackmore beamed.

"Yup! We're about to start our introduction to tankery for everyone in the gymnasium. You can park your tanks out back," Anzu explained, leading the way.

"Sure thing! Lead the way, Ms. Kadotani," Blackmore said, following her instructions.

"Anzu is fine," she corrected with a smile, her confidence shining through.

The tankers maneuvered their vehicles into a neat column before shutting off the engines and disembarking. Voss scanned the area, noting the growing number of students watching with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

"Follow us," Anzu instructed, and the student council led them through the bustling school halls. As they walked, Voss noticed students whispering and pointing, clearly intrigued by the newcomers and their impressive tanks.

Upon reaching the gymnasium, Voss was struck by the sight of many students seated in rows, murmuring among themselves, likely speculating about the purpose of the gathering. Anzu and her council members climbed onto the stage, and one of them called for silence, signaling the start of the orientation for the school's mandatory electives, including tankery.

As the voices died down, the gymnasium lights dimmed, leaving the flickering projector as the only source of illumination. A title screen appeared: "Introduction to Sensha-do."

"Good thing we can understand Japanese," Voss murmured to Blackmore and McKay, relieved that their language skills would help bridge any communication gaps.

The video began with clips of historical tanks-a WW1 MK IV British tank, an A7V, and a Whippet-while a narrator's voice filled the room. "Sensha-do, a cherished part of our culture, is now studied by many girls throughout the world." The footage shifted to girls in tank uniforms bowing gracefully before mounting a Panzer III.

"An art that aims to cultivate politeness, modesty, and gallantry," the narrator continued. As the crew mounted the tank, the commander barked orders, and the narrator added, "Learning Sensha-do trains the part of you that embodies femininity. Intense and strong like iron, adorable like the clattering of its tracks, and passionate and precise like its main gun."

The tank fired a round, and students gasped in awe as the screen showed a parade of Panzer IIIs rolling triumphantly. "If you train in Sensha-do, you will become a better wife, mother, and worker. You will be healthier, kinder, and stronger-capturing the admiration of men everywhere." The video concluded with a spirited celebration of victory, the slogan flashing: "Come forth, girls!"

"What do you guys think?" McKay asked, leaning in.

"Tankery to become a better woman? Ain't that a load of bollocks, innit?" Gideon Anderson, the Welsh bow gunner, scoffed, crossing his arms.

"I suppose there's some logic to it," Voss replied thoughtfully. "Training likely instills discipline and teamwork, which are important skills."

After the video, smoke filled the stage as the student council reappeared, ready to address the crowd.

"Actually, a few years ago, it was decided that Japan would host a Sensha-do world championship," a girl with a monocle announced. "The Ministry of Culture requested that all high schools and colleges strengthen their Sensha-do teams."

"So, our school is reviving our Sensha-do classes! If you choose this elective, there will be special benefits," Anzu added, her voice rising with excitement.

"To those who perform well, we're offering 100 meal tickets for the cafeteria, 200 'get out of jail' cards for when you're late, and three times the credit of a normal class!" The announcement sparked a buzz among the students, their enthusiasm palpable.

"Oh, and before we proceed, we would like to welcome our guests from foreign schools who are also skilled in Sensha-do. Please give them a warm welcome!" Anzu announced, glancing at McKay with a look of surprise.

"Wait, what?" McKay perked up, confusion evident on his face.

"Shit, I didn't prepare a script," Blackmore muttered under his breath.

"Too late for that! Let's just go," Voss said, determination setting in as the three commanders stepped onto the stage alongside the student council.

The murmurs among the students grew louder until they were handed microphones.

"Is this thing on? Ah, okay, uh... good afternoon! I am Maximillian Voss II from the Armored Corps Training Academy in Meppen, Germany," Voss introduced himself, his thick German accent cutting through the tension.

"I'm David Blackmore from the Montgomery Armored College and Engineering in Great Britain," Blackmore followed, a confident smile on his face.

"And I'm Vincent McKay from the Bradley Armored Corps in the United States," McKay added, his voice steady.

"We're here to teach you girls how to operate a tank and work as a team-what we call a crew," Voss continued, glancing at his companions for support. "Some of you may wonder why boys like us are involved in tankery. In Europe and many parts of the world, boys and girls both participate because we are learning essential skills for military leadership."

"How to shoot, command, and issue orders," McKay interjected. "And how to maintain your tank, because you don't want it breaking down in the middle of a battle. Trust me, that's a long and painful process."

"But with dedication and teamwork, you can master these skills. We assure you that if you grasp the basics, you'll excel and dominate against other schools," Blackmore concluded, his eyes scanning the eager faces in the audience.

"So that's it! Thanks for attending, everyone!" Anzu waved cheerfully as the three commanders stepped down from the stage, their hearts racing from the unexpected yet exhilarating experience.

As they left the stage, Voss exchanged glances with Blackmore and McKay, a shared understanding passing between them: this journey was just beginning, and they were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

"So, what tanks do you have, anyway, Anzu?" McKay asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

Anzu scratched the back of her head sheepishly. "Oh... about that..."

"What do you mean?" Blackmore raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern creeping into his tone.

"We only have one tank in restoration," the vice president chimed in, her expression mirroring Anzu's embarrassment.

"What?!" the three commanders exclaimed in unison, their disbelief palpable.

"One tank? One bloody tank?" Blackmore exclaimed, incredulous. "How do you expect to compete with schools that have better line-ups?"

"We'll manage," Anzu insisted, her determination shining through. "Besides, the ministry requires us to join the tournament, right?"

"The papers say it's required," Voss replied, crossing his arms, "but we only brought three tanks against-what?-I don't know how many others. Other schools are definitely going to bring tanks with bigger guns."

"We'll figure it out," Anzu said, munching on a slice of dried potato. "We have an ace up our sleeve. One of our students is really important."

"What do you mean by 'important'?" McKay asked, intrigued.

"Let's just say... she has a history in Sensha-do," Anzu said, a devious smile creeping across her face.

"If that's the case, then I'd say bring her in," Voss said cautiously, "but not against her will."

"Sure, sure! Anyway, we'll head back to the office now. You guys should rest and meet us tomorrow, okay? Bye!" The student council waved and walked away, leaving the commanders to contemplate the situation.

As they returned to their crews, the weight of uncertainty settled over them. "The situation is not good," Blackmore said, his brow furrowing.

"What's wrong?" Aldrich, the German loader, asked, sensing the tension.

"Well, they've got one tank in restoration and that's it," McKay replied, his tone serious.

"Shit, so what do we do?" Aldrich asked, his eyes wide with concern.

"As the papers said, we are required to participate in matches as well as train the volunteers," Blackmore explained, running a hand through his hair. "But the issue is their tanks. One tank isn't going to cut it."

"We should rest for today," Voss suggested, trying to maintain a level head. "The president sent me a text-I don't know how she got my number-but she said she's provided us dorms for the night, even though we have to leave our tanks at the school due to space constraints. Tomorrow, we'll come back and discuss how to tackle this issue with the student council."

"I agree with the kraut here," McKay added, nodding. "It's been a long day."

"Don't forget about dinner," Blackmore chimed in, already thinking about food.

"Yeah, yeah, Churchill," McKay teased, rolling his eyes.

"Good, let's go now," Blackmore concluded, rallying his crew as they headed off to their assigned dorms, ready to unwind and refuel for the challenges ahead.

Meanwhile, Voss lingered behind, the weight of the day pressing on him. His crew had already succumbed to sleep, but he felt restless. With everyone else in the dorms, he pulled out his phone, eager to connect with his friend. His fingers danced across the screen, sending messages back and forth as he shared details of the day and the uncertainty that loomed ahead.

As the night deepened, Voss reflected on their situation. He knew that the following day would bring its own set of challenges, but for now, he felt a strange mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through him. The world of Sensha-do awaited, and he was determined to face whatever came next.

Vo$$: Hey

Vo$$: You awake?

SUGAAAA: Yes

SUGAAAA: Hbu

Vo$$: Well, I'm texting, so that means I'm awake.

SUGAAAA: Smart-ass. Heard you're in Japan.

Vo$$: You won't believe it. I'm on a floating city-a school carrier, they call it.

Voss sent a picture of the school carrier to show he wasn't joking around.

SUGAAAA: That shit exists? Wow, they're that big, huh?

Vo$$: Yup, and there's a problem. Oarai, the school we're teaching, has one tank in restoration. Just one tank, and that's all.

SUGAAAA: That is a problem. So how are you going to fix it?

Vo$$: Dunno, but me, the American, and the Englishman are discussing it tomorrow with the student council. I pray they have a solution. I hope.

SUGAAAA: Hey, don't worry. They'll find one, or you'll find one. You're the smartest friend I've ever known.

Vo$$: Why- oh, you moved back to Japan, right?

SUGAAAA: Yeah, and your mother told me you cried that day.

Vo$$: I was a different person, OK?!

SUGAAAA: Calm down, jeez. I thought I was the hot-headed one. XD

Vo$$: In all seriousness, I missed you. Kept thinking about you all night until you came back to high school.

SUGAAAA: Is that a confession I'm seeing?

SUGAAAA's reply made the German flustered.

Vo$$: No, no, just friend talk, that's all.

SUGAAAA: I missed you too back then and even now that you've left.

Vo$$: How's life there?

SUGAAAA: Great, as usual. Just weird not having you around.

Vo$$: Is Eva bothering you?

SUGAAAA: Why would you ask that?

Vo$$: Because she usually bothers you when I'm not around.

SUGAAAA: ...Yes.

Vo$$: That arrogant son of a bitch.

SUGAAAA: My brother's protecting me, so you don't have to worry.

Vo$$: Ah, Gunther. I forgot.

SUGAAAA: Yeah... also, I missed you. I should've gone with you before you left for Japan.

Vo$$: Unfortunately, this thing requires one commander for each school, although I would've traded Hess.

SUGAAAA: XD

Vo$$: Anyway, it's getting late. I'll talk to you tomorrow. We've got a big day ahead.

SUGAAAA: I see. Goodnight then, Max.

Vo$$: You too, Em.

Voss turned his phone off before dozing off on his bed.

The next day

Voss, McKay, and Blackmore huddled in the student council office, deep in discussion about the dire lack of tanks. Anzu had just revealed that Oarai used to have a tankery team, one that was disbanded years ago due to financial struggles, forcing them to sell off their equipment. However, there were rumors of lost tanks scattered around the school ship, marked as 'missing' in the archives.

"Next up, we need to sort the elective papers," Momo said, glancing at the pile on the table. "Let's separate those who chose Sensha-do from the others."

As they sorted through the papers, Momo Kawashima, the PR manager, suddenly frowned, spotting an anomaly. "President, you need to see this," she said, handing a paper to Anzu.

"Call Nishizumi to the office immediately," Anzu instructed, her tone serious.

Momo adjusted her monocle and activated the intercom. "Standard Class I, 2-A, Nishizumi Miho. Standard Class I, 2-A, Nishizumi Miho. Report to the student council office immediately. That is all."

"What's the deal, Anzu?" Blackmore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you'll see," Anzu replied cryptically, her expression unreadable.

Moments later, Miho and her two friends entered the office, looking puzzled. Anzu, staring intently at her computer screen, finally spoke up.

"What's this about?" Momo asked, holding up an elective paper that clearly belonged to Miho.

"Why didn't you choose Sensha-do?" Anzu's voice held a hint of disappointment.

"Anzu, what is the meaning of this? We agreed no one should be forced to join!" Blackmore protested, his voice rising.

"There's hardly anyone with Sensha-do experience in our school," Momo added, concern etched on her face.

"We're finished... Our school is doomed!" the vice president lamented, shaking her head.

"Sure, but that doesn't justify coercing someone," Blackmore retorted, crossing his arms.

"Don't be selfish!" one of Miho's friends chimed in, her eyes narrowed.

"Exactly! Miho said she doesn't want to do it," the girl with long black hair defended.

"Please, just let Nishizumi go," Hana said softly but firmly.

Anzu's expression hardened. "Maybe I'll make it so you can't stay at this school much longer."

Gasps echoed through the room, shock and disbelief painted on their faces.

"I can't believe you're threatening us," Saori breathed, wide-eyed.

"Anzu, you've crossed a line," McKay said, his voice steady but stern.

"It's not a threat. The president is always serious," Momo added, her voice unwavering.

"That's right," Anzu agreed, her gaze piercing.

"I think you should apologize before this escalates. How about that?" the vice president suggested gently, hoping to calm the storm brewing in the office.

"Not fair!" came the outcry from Miho's friends.

"You're abusing your power," another voice protested.

The room erupted into chaos, voices overlapping as the three sides clashed. Some defended Miho, others pressed for her to join, while a few sought to de-escalate the situation.

Just when it seemed the argument would spiral out of control, Miho raised her voice above the din. "I'll... I'll do Sensha-do!"

The room fell silent, all eyes on her, shock etched across her friends' faces.

"What?!" they gasped in unison.

"That's fantastic!" the vice president exclaimed, her face lighting up with relief, while Anzu's lips curved into a determined smile and Momo nodded, satisfied.

The boys exchanged glances, resigned but supportive. If that was Miho's choice, they couldn't oppose it.

The following day, the newly formed Sensha-do team gathered in the hangars. The boys watched from a distance, skepticism written on their faces.

"So, these are the people we're training? I expected more," McKay remarked, crossing his arms.

"Guess we'll have to make do, Yankee," Voss replied, shooting him a sideways glance.

"Twenty-one students plus fifteen makes thirty-six personnel. Not ideal," Blackmore sighed, rubbing his temples.

"I hope it works," he added, glancing back at the group.

Momo stepped forward to address the assembled students. "We'll be starting Sensha-do class!"

"What were the tanks again? Tigers? Or..." a girl with fluffy hair asked, uncertainty in her tone.

"Um... I forgot," Anzu admitted sheepishly.

Suddenly, the heavy gate creaked open, and British crew members stepped into view. "Open the bloody gate, you tossers!" they shouted, clearly unimpressed.

"God damn it. This is worse than I thought," Pete 'Gordo' Craft, McKay's driver, muttered under his breath.

"They're gonna operate from this?" Barry Jackson, McKay's gunner, said incredulously.

"Good luck to them lasses," Jason Freight, the loader of the Comet, added with a knowing shake of his head.

"They're really going to need it..." McKay concluded, his voice trailing off as he watched the unfolding scene with a mix of hope and skepticism.

(A/n: First GuP fanfic, and I hope it'll turn out well. The names are based on Company of Heroes characters, which is why some may be familiar to you. May feel a bit rough, but that's because I wrote this late at night. Anyways I guess that'll be all for now, I'll see you at the next one, folks.)