"Well, I guess that's it then..."
"What makes you say that, Orange Pekoe?" Darjeeling asked with a queer expression and took another sip of her tea.
"I mean... Isn't it obvious?" Orange Pekoe replied, and returned her cup and saucer to the table beside her, gesturing towards the field before them. "Ooarai are encircled and outnumbered for the second time this match, one of their biggest guns is out of action, and they're under constant barrage?"
"I'm afraid I must agree, Lady Darjeeling," Assam nodded. "The odds are very much not in Ooarai's favor, and I simply do not see a way for them to win this battle?"
"I must say, girls, I find your lack of faith disappointing." Darjeeling emptied her cup, and handed it to Rukuriri to be refilled. "I don't think the result is as conclusive as you seem to consider it. Thank you, Rukuriri." She accepted the refilled cup without looking away from the action, intense contemplation apparent behind her eyes.
"But..." Orange Pekoe started to protest, before stopping, calming herself, and restarting. "Lady Darjeeling, if I may, why?"
"Whatever do you mean, my dear Orange Pekoe?"
"Why have you taken such an interest in Ooarai? You've never dragged us out to a match like this before, and most certainly not to one with a minor school in the first round."
"It's simple, isn't it?" Darjeeling threw a sly glance at her two Vice Commanders. "It's because Ooarai are different."
"In what possible way are they different?" Assam asked. "They haven't fielded a Sensha-Do team in decades, they have no titles or victories to their name, and their only previous battle led to an unquestionable defeat?"
"I'm not quite sure..." Darjeeling answered as she leaned back and smiled, taking a sip of her tea as she looked at the large monitor showing the battle. "But I suppose it's Nishizumi... I don't quite understand her... And I take an interest in things I don't understand..."
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"San Francisco, come in. This is Los Angeles. Over."
"This is SF, reading you loud and clear LA! Whaddya got for us?"
"Enemy M3 Lee eliminated, Ma'am," Naomi said cooly over the radio. "Which one do you want taken out next? Over."
"Just lay down some covering fire for now," Kay replied in her cheerful tones. "We've got nine tanks out here after all. What kind of commander would I be if I let you have all the fun?"
"Got it. Happy hunting, San Francisco. Los Angeles, out." Naomi switched off the radio of her Firefly, and leaned back in her seat as she rolled her head a few times to loosen up her neck.
"What are our orders, Commander?" Maya asked from the driver's seat below her.
"Just the usual..." Naomi replied.
"Aww, just one shot?" Juria exclaimed with a pout from the other side of the gun, already having loaded a new shell into the breach.
"'Fraid so."
"The Commander never lets us have any real fun..." Juria sighed. "We've already got a clear shot, so why can't we just take out their flag tank here and now?"
"Because the commander is the sporting type. And besides, the rest of the team deserve to have some fun too, don't they?" Naomi aimed her sights at Ooarai's Panzer IV. Giving the trigger a gentle squeeze, as if it was one of Assam's soft hands, she watched as the shell traveled the two kilometers with the speed of a bullet, pinging predictably off the German tanks turret. "Now, get me another round loaded." She put a new stick of gum between her teeth, and began to chew while Juria reloaded the 17-pounder. "Just because we're shooting clay pigeons instead of hunting, doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves."
YOU ARE READING
Dein Weg ist Mein Weg
FanfikceA terrible accident. A school on the brink of closing. A team with an impossible goal. The tale of a disgraced daughter from a great family, and a reluctant return to the sport she abandoned. It's a story you've been told before, but never like this...
