1st MBT Triathlon (IC)

[Erloane]

The Republic of Erloane has opened the 1st MBT Triathlon to the world.

Sign-up: viewtopic.php?f=7&t=514599

The triathlon features these events:

- off-road race and obstacle negotiation
- firing on the move
- quick-draw firing

The triathlon shall be held at Nero MBT Polygon (avg. temperature: - 37°C / - 34.6°F)

Event Description:

Off-road race and obstacle negotiation:

- Scored on time

- Start
- 700m segment on concrete
- 3m trench
- 1km segment through deep snow
- 300m segment on ice
- 35° slope
- 50° slope
- Finish

Firing on the move:

- Scored on time
- All targets must be hit, if a crew misses a target 3 times, the crew cannot engage that target anymore (a penalty will be handed down in case a crew misses a target 3 times)

- Start
- 700m segment
- 3 MBT-sized targets at 870m, 1km and 1.45km (on the move)
- 3 car-sized targets at 1.2km, 2km and 2.6km (stationary)
- 700m segment on bumpy terrain
- 3 APC-sized targets at 1.6km, 2.2km and 2.5km (stationary)
- 700m segment on very bumpy terrain
- 3 car-sized targets at 600m, 800m and 1km (on the move)
- 15 targets (5 MBT, 5 APC, 5 cars, all moving at random speeds and random azimuths)
- Finish

Quick-draw firing:

- Scored on time
- All crew and 5 shells outside the vehicle
- Conditions:

- Start
- Embark
- Start the engine
- Turn the turret 360°in both clockwise and counter-clockwise directions (1 time)
- Elevate and depress the cannon from max to min, min to max (3 times)
- Load and fire the 5 rounds
- Evacuate the MBT
- Finish

List of Attendees:

- Gonswanza (T-95)
- Erloane (M1A3)
- Sky Reavers (Wastelander Type 4)
- Janpia (JP-1)
- The Selkie (Cealg Mark I-B Light Tank)
- Polish Prussian Commonwealth (PT-91MA1 Twardy)
- Mirum (AT-MBT Gen. 3)
- Laka Strolistandiler (Luftbegleitfahrzeug-XI)

NOTE TO ALL ATTENDEES.
PLEASE MAKE IC POSTS FROM THE CREW´S PERSPECTIVE.

[The Selkie]

Ensign Fiona Bláth of the Tribe of Wexford
Nero MBT Polygon, Erloane.
Filly One was a Cealg Mark I-B Light Tank, 33.2 tons in weight. It was one of the heaviest combat vehicles in the history of the SDF and certainly a powerful vehicle with its 120 mm rifled gun and its autoloader.
I had always wanted to command one of those, ever since they were introduced in 2012, maybe even a platoon. Others had done so, in exercises and in combat – Operation Spartacus had seen the combat debut of these magnificent vehicles. Now, it was our turn, the turn of a triplet of students of the Navy School to show, what they had learned during Sensha-Do.
Ensign Kayla Urchair of the Tribe of Sligo and Ensign Nolwenn Dallaigh of the Tribe of Antrim were my mates during this Tank Triathlon here in Erloane, at the Nero MBT Polygon. It was fucking cold, though.
Packed up in overcoats and warm clothing, our team was putting on the finishing touches as we went over the last bits of the competition – we knew temperatures like these, winter was a thing, that happened in the Free Lands with reckless abandon, but around here, it seemed as if it was normal.
Well.
To each their own.
I looked to my crew: Kay had her purple hair bound back into a knot, ready to put in the heavy tanker helmet, which she had to wear, while Nolly was a short blonde, her hair in a ponytail, which she would stuff under her helmet, much like I would do with my silver-grey hair. We were all three female, all three quite well proportioned (Kay had the largest, Nolly the smallest, I was in the middle), but the heavy coats and flak jackets we all wore made us not really discernable by that measure.
We were also all three Ensigns, officer trainees, of the SDF-Navy.
We were not Army. The Army, I had heard through the grapevine, had planned to send two teams, one armoured car, one tank like us, but that had not worked out on a number of reasons – so, we were here, representing the Free Lands.
“To be honest, my main worry is the slopes.”, I told my crewmates, “Kay, keep an eye out for those.”
My purple haired driver, who was compared to Princess Nela of Zieselhaven and Elms quite a few times already, nodded. “Understood.”
“The shooting practice is easy enough, if a bit dense.”, Nolly said, then shrugged, “Other then that, I am dead weight.”
“No.”, Kay replied with a smile, “If we get stuck, you'll be able to disembark and push!”
We laughed at that.
“Alright, lassies!” Ensign Nora Scriúire of the Tribe of Cavan, silver-haired and equipped well enough to be a competitor for Kay, was our head mechanic. She had been in the old days of Sensha-Do, too. “Your filly is ready.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Nora.”, I said, soon followed by my lassies. The mechanic crew stood around us, Lieutenant Finnegan Gringhraf of the Tribe of Cork of the SDF-Navy Press Corps a bit to the side to leave us room – all of us, safe for him and his aide de camp, were Ensigns and students of the Naval School. “Alright, people, this is it – we're ready to begin the competition. It's not a battle, but it is quite like it, too, and we'll show them, what the Naval School breeds as students!”
There were cheers.
“And I forgot to mention...”, the Lieutenant called in from the side, “...if you win or rank within the top three, Vice Admiral Curadh has authorized a trip to the Hot Springs of Buidélte on the costs of the Navy.“
We cheered – and were sufficiently motivated.

---

The first event was the off-road race and obstacle negotiation – here there be slopes.
It would be scored on time. We only had to worry about being fast, not about firing. That would be the second event coming in. Considering, that we were among the only students present, all other teams looked like soldiers from the ranks of the respective armies.
I saw a T-95 from Gonswanza, a truly rare sight (and an interesting sight, let's see, if the hype was warranted), an M1A3 from our gracious hosts, a Type 4 Wastelander (at least I was reasonably sure, that it was one, considering it looked a lot like one bolted everything and the kitchen sink on it) and, to my utmost delight, a PT-91MA1 Twardy from our friends in the Commonwealth.
I would make a point out of greeting them later, with a proper hug between friends – even if they did not look like active army troops, they were still from our dear friends and allies.
Who knew, maybe one could convince the Foreign Office to invite them to the hot springs as a gesture of diplomatic good will?
“Alright, lassies, ready?”, I asked into my throat microphone.
“Gun ready.”, Nolly replied.
“Driver ready.”, Kay reported.
“Then let's get on the road!”, I said with some cheer and felt as the engine started. Kay gave it a bit of gas to get it running properly and I grinned. Oh, this feeling, it took me back, the vibrations of a running tank engine – I had been the Captain of the Naval School's Sensha Do Team until I graduated from the School Section and began officer training.
I still sometimes missed my old Faolchú Armoured Personnel Carrier, the vehicle I had driven back in the day... but enough of that.
“Once the light hits green, we have 700 metres on concrete...” Easy enough, if bad for the concrete. “...then a trench of three metres... “ We would have to slow down a bit and do that one a bit carefully, but it was not impossible. “...then a kilometre through deep snow...”
“Funky.”, Kay purred.
It would be the Cealg's chance to shine, it had been designed for the roughest the Free Lands could throw at it – deep snow was only a marginal problem. That meant, we would get through without issue, but we would have to slow down.
“...and then three hundred metres on ice before we hit the slopes.”
I was really worried about the slopes. We could manage them easily enough, we could do slopes up to sixty degrees, but that did not mean, that I liked doing them. Quite on the contrary, I hated doing slopes.
But alas, we had a fifty degree slope before the finish.
Another issue might be the trench. I was reasonably certain, that our dear hosts had built it so that one could not simply drive around without loosing too much time (an option we would certainly take, if possible), so we had to cross. We could cross trenches of up to 3.2 metres, thanks to an advanced suspension and a few other tricks, but much like with the 50 degrees slope, that we could do it did not mean, that we liked doing it.
Quite on the contrary, we would have to come to a complete stop and hope for the best.
The option of racing at it and doing the jump as if this was some sort of animated show or racing game was tempting, but...
...there was the concrete road in front of it.
Carman Fea, have mercy on us.
“...Kay, wanna try something crazy?”, I asked.
“How crazy?” I explained my plan. She was silent for a long time. “Well...”
“No.”, came the Lieutenant's voice. He was wired in for good measure. “We're not with the Airmobile Squadron or the Naval Aviation Command.”
“Aw...”, Kay made. “Then we'll make it the boring way.”
“Think of it this way: You won't get any hot springs if you break your blasted tank.”, the Lieutenant replied.
“Duly noted.”, I replied, “Kay, you heard him. No flight zone is in effect. Even if it is boring.”
“Hey!”
“If the Wastelander wins because you forbid us to take flight...!”
“Understood, Filly One – now make us proud!”, he replied and we were condemned to wait again until the light turned green to us.

[Gonswanza]

As the crews gathered from the flight over, the "beast" was unloaded from the waiting transport aircraft, lumbering from its slumber as the engine fires up and pushes the tank forwards with the driver carefully easing up on the gas. Due to the nature of the tank, along with the lack of "glass" armor, the driver had resorted to keeping their hatch open. A trio of girls, really, with tanned skin and rather short hair, tucked into their helmets as two of them salute the driver who seemed rather annoyed. The rest of the crews trickle in, a gaggle of tanned or caucasian men and women, all paired to the rather well-dressed officers, four in all. These officers were, of course, dressed their best (even in winter gear), unlike the crews who were dressed in combat fatigues, while the maintenance crews had to bear with their jumpsuits, goggles, and gloves under their winter gear. When it came time for primary inspection, however, the crews collectively had to fend off the media themselves, barking at the guys who (somehow) broke into the area to get a peek at the "new super tank" prior to it being moved to the site. So much for subtlety.

Skipping over logistics and the unloading, the tank soon lines up with the rest. It seems... Rather mundane. Almost. But the trio inside was excited for this operation, chatting up the tank in Spanish as they had taken their time to note the other vehicles both in person and through the cameras on the top of the turret.

(All conversations translated to English)
Gunner: "You see that! An Abrams! I mean, it's not THE Abrams, I think, but wow! To be so close to other tanks in what is effectively a prototype! Ah, those years in tank school really paid off."
Driver: "Cap it, Salina. We came here to show Gonswanzan dominance, we shall not FAIL. The engine's running fine, the transmission is intact, the suspension is good. Oi, Betsy, check the stabilizer. We need that gun intact for the coming trials, so locking it up to keep it from flopping around would be nice."
Commander: "-That's the gunner's job, Alexandria. Perhaps you should listen to me more often?"
Gunner: "Shhh- It's locked. We are GOOD!"
Commander: "Keep an eye on the gun elevation then. If that lock fails, this thing will scream at us."

And so, from within their locked box, the tank soon rumbles off once the signal was set for the race to begin. It was proper, of course. On concrete, the driver keeps a close eye on the engine and suspension, trying to optimize power so that the tank won't end up "sliding" around, though the tracks manage to grip it well for the 700-meter stretch. Even in the cold weather, the tank holds up, as the girls keep their eyes on the screens. All feeds are normal, nothing wrong.

Alexandria (Driver): "Still going good, optimized for on-road. Switching to off-road."
Betsy (Commander): "Right! Make sure to do so just before the stretch ends, further optimize this beast. Salina, how's the gun?"
Salina (Gunner): "Holding! The mechanical lock is keeping it in place, so they really did fix that issue, huh?"
Betsy (Commander): "That issue was fixed when it first rolled off the line. Keep your eyes to your screens, warn me if anything fishy pops up."

And then the trench came up.

Alexandria (Driver): "Trench, coming up! We are off-roading. Let's run it down."

Well, given the systems in place, the tank handles it well, almost flying over the gap. It's also a smooth landing, with cheers from the crew.

Alexandria (Driver): "ALL GREEN! LETS GOOOO! YES!"
Salina (Gunner): "Lock holding! FUCK YES!*" *(More so "A LA VERGAAAA!" which is akin to "LETS FUCKING GO!")
Betsy (Commander): "GOOD! Keep her steady, Alexandria. We still have the rest of the track to cover. Keep it running off-road. Ease off the gas. We're going into the snow."
Alexandria (Driver): "Wilco!"

The long drive through snow however would weather down its momentum and speed. While it still plowed into it at first, the careful hand of the driver attempts to push the tank through snow with a more ginger touch. Alas, it pushes through, the engine growling as it shreds through the heaping banks and almost forces the oddly shaped craft against the powder. The dusky camo and small flag flying off an antenna allowed the press to eagerly see the tank "ripping through the snow like a leopard". A bit funny, since the driver was trying to balance torque and throttle to keep things running smoothly, without risking the transmission breaking or something going awry. Once again, the off-road tracks offer their hand in keeping momentum even at reduced speed.

Alas, being capped at around 50km/h wasn't TOO bad, given they practically maxed out on concrete and used that to fly over the trench. However, the ice would force them to slow down further, as the driver, gunner, and commander collectively note the hazard.

Alexandria (Driver): "Gah! This is like Frozen Fury all over again! Ice!"
Betsy (Commander): "Reduce our speed, keep an eye on the brakes. We may be skidding around, but throttling up won't do us good. Focus. This is, after all, Frozen Fury again. Minus the horrid storm."
Alexandria (Driver): "W-WILCO!"

The trio manage to control the tank, though at first, it slipped, only for some very, very precise movements to regain control on behalf of the driver. At 56 tons, she was a hefty beast, though it allowed the suspension to act in their favor, with the speed at first dipping from 47 km/h straight to 30km/h, soon picking up again at a stable 45km/h. Once the ice was conquered, the tank slows yet again, almost skidding to a stop before the climb begins. The tank inches up the incline rather nicely, even if the driver was sweating. Control was key here, though once the hump was passed, Alexandria relaxes. Then there was the "big one"... The 50-degree slope. Here, the engine was pushed to the limit, the crew collectively holding their breath, as the engine was throttled, the transmission pushing hard and the tracks trying to get a grip.

They barely conquer it, crawling along at a slow pace, though the driver seems to show some restraint when descending the slope. Not too bad, but it could be better, in spite of coming from an island that has mountains and jungles. Alas, it at least offered the others a mild edge, IF THAT, in terms of performance. It also indicated that the engine may need to be checked later on for any possible damage, perhaps even demanding a "tune-up" for the sake of optimizing performance on steep inclines.

When they reach the finish line, the tank is welcomed, coming to a stop for some photos, prior to being driven off to the vehicle bay for another inspection, some fixing, plus minor modifications. Alas, the "lock" for the gun is released once they reach the finish, as a mild demonstration of the stabilizer is shown off on the smooth run to the garage.

After the maintenance is done, the crew gathers with their officer, talking over how to tackle the next challenge before them. Once the chats are over, they soon line up for the next round, alongside the Cealg.

State media back home presents this as a welcome, open demonstration of Gonswanza's greatest tank, blowing up the hype for it, while the general public seems to enjoy its performance. However, foreign analysts would likely take note that it was either underpowered or the driver was struggling on the inclines, wrongly assuming it was the former. Regardless, it isn't a catastrophic failure. Only a mild "issue" if that, due to some precautionary driving.

[Mirum]

1st International MBT Triathlon, Nero MBT Polygon, Erloane

Specialist Hugo Wenzman approached his tank, his dark-bronze skin seemingly shimmering in the light. He rubbed his hands together to heat them up, let out a puff of breath, and spoke to his crew.

"Alright, team! Today's the big day."

"Sure is, boss." His gunner, Private First Class Jennalore Kastath replied. Despite the cold, she was- as usual- chewing her piece of gum. SPC Wenzman smiled and shook his head, before continuing.

"It looks like we've got some tough competition out here." He eyed the tanks surrounding him, their crews, and his tank and crew, "But that doesn't mean we can't win. Now, the course itself-"

"Sir, I doubt that it matters. The AT-MBT is one of the finest tanks in the world. Especially ours." Private Second Class Drakthag Quietfield- the engineer- interjected, as he usually would- full of energy and enthusiasm. SPC Wenzman gave him a brief look and continued.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Quietfield, but this course is different, and we aren't going up against other AT-MBTs. Now, the course itself is an interesting one. The first few obstacles are no problem at all*. Seven-hundred-sixty-five yards of concrete. One-yard-wide trench. One-thousand-ninety-three yards of deep snow. That's where the easy part stops. Three-hundred-twenty-eight yards of ice. A thirty-five-degree incline followed by a fifty-degree incline. Then, the finish line. All of this is a timed race. No time to stop and change treads. No time for caution. Full speed ahead- all the way. Any questions?" There was silence among the crew for a brief moment, before the driver- Private Second Class Addain Frosteye- spoke up.

"When do we get started?"

"Right now. All crew members- to your stations!" The crew bolted for the tank, opening their hatches, and running through their respective checklists. "Alright, checklist reports."

"Howitzer in locked position. Shells secured. Gunner, ready."

"Engine ready for start-up. No leaks. Engineer ready."

"Advanced control systems online. Parking break off. Driver ready."

"All systems ready. Initiate engine start!" The tank sputtered, roared to life, as a previous tank had done, and the crew began their wait for the green light. Then it happened. The tank lunged forward, accelerating to in a matter of seconds. However, the AT-MBT was not the fastest. A larger tank- the one from Gonswanza, by the looks of it, passed the AT-MBT first. Followed by a tank that looked like- as SPC Wenzman would call it- a rustbucket. "Floor it, Frosteye!" Wenzman called out.

"We're going as fast as we can!" The reply came through.

"Quietfield, can't you get more juice out of that thing?"

"I'll try, sir! Not much I can do right now though!"

"Trench ahead! Brace!" PFC Kastath called out, just in time. The tank felt like it was flying for the briefest second, before a loud thud echoed throughout the tank- which had barley gained traction on the other side of the trench. Quietfield swore out loud, as the tank continued speeding forward.

"There go my tools! Debris in the cabin!"

"Well, secure them!"

"I'm trying!"

The tank continued to power forward, as the Gonswanzans reduced their speed, the Mirian tank eventually catching up.

"Looks like they can't handle the snow!" Kastath commented.

"Ice ahead! Reduce speed to thirty**!"

"Speed reducing! Prepare for slip and slide."

The AT-MBT eventually pulled ahead of the Gonswanzan tank, but about three-fourths of the way across, began to skid to the right.

"Reduce speed left! Increase speed right!"

"Reducing speed left, increasing speed right!"

The tank began to skid back on course toward the hill ahead, competition closing in behind. It gained a foothold and began to increase speed. The tank breezed through the first hill- and used the momentum gained from the first to conquer the second. About halfway up, it stalled.

"More power! Full speed ahead!"

"Our engine is going to be toasty after this...!"

The AT-MBT dug at the hill, and gradually began to climb up. The competition seemingly had similar issues, but the AT-MBT was struggling as well, allowing for the gap to close. All and all, it would be a close race, and the crew wouldn't be able to tell who won until after this leg of the race. Eventually, the hill was conquered, and the tank rolled off to the side to allow for pictures. The crew posed by the tank for a while, allowing for the media to do their thing, but after a while, they packed up and rolled their tank to the maintenance shop to allow for repairs (mainly to the engine) and needed modifications.

"Good work, team. That was a good run today."

"D'you know who won?"

"Nope. But it probably wasn't us. Our tanks weren't built with such big hills in mind. Maneuverability, speed, and reliability were the things put in mind."

"Still, it could be us."

"Could be."

"Engine's still toast though. It even feels hot just being next to it."

"Good. I'm cold." Kastath said, which made the entire crew chuckle to themselves.

*Mirian tanks are built for cold woodland areas, and most can easily cross trenches up to 75% their length. There is some difficulty for anything beyond 50% the length of the tank, but as long as it's not over the length, the tank can usually cross.

**MPH

[Sky Reavers]

MBT Triathlon, Nero MBT Polygon

After some nice flight over trip, Sky Reaver tank crew had finally arrived together with their "Iron Boar" a Wastelander Type 4 main battle tank, which they tuned, decorated and painted in a rather creative way. On the left side, there was a painting of a naked pin up woman wearing cowboy hat, holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a revolver in the other, on it's right, there were several dents in the armor, covered with black cloth, with painted white skull and cross bones and a word "Deth" above it. Below it reads "To dudes standin' in the way of freedom!" Circle A anarchy sign could be seen on the turret. The nose plates had pagan runes on them. Three skulls hanging from the back of the turret, and a chrome boar head as hood ornament complimented several metal plates welded to some more fragile spots of this war machine. Fridge magnets adorned some parts of the machine. The other details didn't look differently from post apocalyptic style. Tank looked as if it was cobbled together from salvaged parts of different tanks, and yet, it worked. Somehow.

It's crew looked proud to put this tank on the show. Sky Reaver, who looked like a bunch of frat bros, cowboys, metalheads and punks with Mad-Max aesthetics have been drinking, gambling and smoking weed, while making the final preparations. They were rather... underdressed, however the cold didn't bother them. At least too much.

Stella "The Reckless", a woman with purple long hair on one side and bald on the other, decided, that she would drive this tank. "Alright, dudes! I am gonna just give it a spin!"-She said. Mike, a black cowboy guy with a beard responded -"And I am mannin' the cannon, partners!". Yegor, a long haired metalhead guy, who was a commander of this outfit after a vote, lit up a cannabis joint and summed it up: "So here we are, dudes! Ridin' and blazin' through da' snow! Ya'll see these other boring tanks? We gonna try and outpace them all! If we manage, there gonna be a feast and we get to see the looks on the faces of these "proper" militaries! Are ya' ready kids?"

Two other warriors responded with "Aye, aye, captain!" - "I can't hear you!"- "Aye, aye, captain!"- Then, Yegor climbed into the cabin with his "Oooooh!", Stella and Mike have followed him.

Inside the tank, they started to plan.

Stella: "Alright, if we wanna get through the first part, ya'll gonna forget about my nickname and start to trust me. First, I try to get this clanker to start in these conditions, then... ride a bit and over the trench. Sure, we can slow and steady make it past it, but I'll try to jump over it. More speed - less trenches."

Yegor: "Then the deep snow. As if it can stop a tank... And then, do you know, how to ice skate? We gotta go as fast as it's even possible!"

Stella: "Yeah! Ice can be a slippery part, but I'll have it covered! Then the slopes... Oh, I just "love" that slog. Hope, these dudes did everything right, cuz if we come the last, I am gonna get my largest wrench visit a certain car repair shop and have a little polite talk with these mechanics."

Mike: "I'll just kick back and sip mah' moonshine."

Yegor: "Don't ya' get distracted, cuz if ya' do, I got some sobering ice water for ya'! Alright, we are ready! Very little planning, so we'll improvise! Oh... look, green light! Start the thing up! And floor it like there ain't no tomorrow! We gonna go loco!"

Stella: "Come on, start up, ya' clanker!"- After three seconds, tank had started up and the gang started to complete the course. Full speed ahead!

And so, the crew decided. They would make lots of risky decisions.

---

Yegor made a "Metal" hand sign and yelled: "Steel Commanders!" Mike added: "Rule da' battlefields!" Stella: "Spearhead Flanders!" They just yelled that song, while driving on the concerte. Nothing hard so far.

Stella: "Alright, see the trench? I'll just jump it! Hell yeah! Hell yeah, dudes!"- Stella's bet is to fly over the trench and then start driving through the snow without slowing down. At least too much. Using tank's bottom for sliding on it, as if it's some sort of ski. Snow, flying everywhere, as the machine went through it was an epic sight. Three road warriors could have sworn, that something fell off during the jump.

Mike: "Dudes, something ain't right!"

Yegor: "Don't worry, this part is just for a decoration, cause it looks beautiful. And this lil' mechanism was just a lucky charm. Now! The ice! Stella! Imagine, that you are an ice skater."

Mike: "Yeehaw! Let's just slide through it!"

Stella: "I ain't gonna slow down just for that! Competition might, but I won't! Gonna pass it like in the movies! Chaarge!"- Stella just drives on the ice full speed ahead and goes into a drift, she would try to control. In attempts to control such a machine on the ice, going so fast, she slalomed through this and when these 300 meters have passed, she just wiped the sweat off and was glad, this was over. It took some time to find a bottle after things got shaked up in thus, but she managed to grope a bottle, that flew near herself and wasn't broken by some miracle. After a gulp from a vodka bottle, she tries to climb the slope. 35 degree one wasn't too hard thanks to the momentum.

Yegor: "Way, hey and up she rises!"

Now, it's time for the boss battle of the first lever - the infamous 50 degree slope. This was a challenge for Stella, for her skill and luck. All three crossed their fingers, while the war machine roared and slowly climbed it. It was rather hard, once, the Wastelanded even slided down a bit, however, after some time it actually made it to the finish, with engine hot as hell and the crew toasting and drinking alcohol to relief stress. Yegor took another cannabis joint and started smoking it.

Yegor: "Whew, damn... that's just like the good ol' Oregon Trail game!"

Stella: "Yeah... That slope... hope we didn't lose much time. Felt like eternity. Hope it didn't take us enough time for competition to outrun us. Now, we can rest a bit. That was a hell of a ride.

Mike: "It was. Now... where is mah' bottle of moonshine? Oh, it's here... Cracked and leaking... Well, I'll plug that with rag. Not the best, but will leak less."

[The Selkie]

Ensign Fiona Bláth of the Tribe of Wexford
Nero MBT Polygon, Erloane.
Unlike what I was used from similar competitions (thank you, Iris Boarding School Sensha-Do Team!), we would all have a go at it at once, so, once the light turned green, we all shot forwards. I... well, I did not loose track of our fellow competitors, but I did have my own problems to worry about.
As expected, the concrete road was handled easily enough, our Cealg playing out its light weight and powerful engine to its advantage, before we aligned by Kay's steady hand and the suspension began its work to move us over the three metre trench.
I blanched a bit, when Nolly told us, that the tank with the pin-up girl had simply jumped over it, landing in the snow, where it plowed in like it was nobody's business.
We took a more careful, regular approach, but we did not break anything, neither on the tank nor on ourselves. Then came the deep snow.
This segment worked better then anticipated, actually: We ploughed through it merrily. Kay had to turn on an outside camera on the turret to see her bloody path, but we moved through it in good time.
The ice segment was similarly easy, though without much camera interference.
Then came the slopes.
35 degrees was handled easily enough.
50 degrees... "Careful, Kay!"
We were built to handle such obstacles, but that did not mean, that we liked it. We crawled along, up and, finally, over and over the finish line.
"And we're there.", Kay said, a grin on her face, "Disembark?"
"Out in the cold?", I asked, "No way... it's warm in here. Lieutenant, what's our position?"
"Wait one.", came back, "Though, ladies, no matter where you end up, you performed well."
"Thanks.", I replied earnestly. "Nolly, water for the tea?"
"On it."
I heard the hatch open as Nolly gathered some snow from our turret roof to melt down and cook tea on.
Ah... the simple after-race pleasures...

[Janpia]

Background:

The JP-1 tank is regarded as the armor of the revolutionary forces, and has a legendary status among the Janpian populace for having high kills, and no deaths, during its service from the Chenye war, and Irogg. As such, the crew that will be manning it are:

- Kromsky Kranuiv (Commander)
- Henselin Warisch (Second Commander / MG Operator)
- Priya Adruina (Gunner)
- Ulyana Krastov (Driver)

The crew we're all classmates, and the top of their school's Senascho (our version if Senshado), they all went together, through thick and thin after their graduation and their training at the Revolutionary Forces

--

Kromsky looks at the maintenance crew, as they adjust the parts and tracks on the tank. Just by looking at it, he remembered his first time commandeering a tank during his highschool years. He looks towards Priya, who they nicknamed "Flower's eye", due to her delicate, yet high percision shots during Senascho tournaments.

Kromsky:"Reminds you of the good days isn't it?"

Priya didn't answered, and she seems like in a deep thought and discipline to just start chatting casually. Kromsky just whispers to himself

"As expected from the Flower's eye"

As they watched the maintenance crew checks the monitors, the tracks, the gun, the rest of the tank crews have arrived.

Henselin:"We have grabbed some water from our logistics group nearby. I also got the chance to look at our competitors!"

Henselin said, happily carrying 6 bottles of water on his hands.

Henselin:"And boy, aren't they looking scary. Especially the Gonswanzan one. I have never seen such a tank during our tank identification test."

Ulyana who is right beside of Henselin gave a small chuckle.

Ulyana:"Well atleast we're probably the first Janpians to see it up close"

The maintenance crew starts up the vehicle, and one of them gave a thumbs up to the commander. After seeing the signal, Priya immidiately climbs up to the hull, and into the hatches.

Kromsky:Oi wait up!

Kromsky looks at the other 2

Kromsky:"Hurry up! The tank is all prepped! Lets try it out first in these conditions, and line up with others!"

Henselin:"Wait hold up! help me carry these bottles!"

Kromsky runs towards Henselin, and aids him on carrying it. They ran back to the tank, and gave their water inside the tank. Kromsky then closes the hatch, and orders Ulyana to drive backwards, and into the fields.

--

The tank drives slowly out of the garage in reverse, and finally gets its roadwheels into the mud, fully showing the tank to all audiences/media. The tank has an added decal on its side, showing the national colors of Janpia, and a star.

"Driver, advance!"

[Gonswanza]

Post-race, the trio of girls are later descended upon by the press. They did differ in height, size, and frame, though they were more than willing to take interviews, donned in their jumpsuits as they let their hair down. Rather short, though to tell the difference, Alexandria was the tallest of the trio, also being rather petite. Betsy was the shortest, though she seemed more like a guy if it weren't for her voice, face, and bust. Finally, the last one, Salina, was an odd middle ground though she also seemed rather relaxed after taking down a few gummies.

With this in mind, the interviews begin!

Press: "So! Are you excited for the next part of the triathlon?"
Betsy: "(denying an offer of CBD gummies from Salina) I think we are, in spite of our officer suggesting otherwise, I think we are really, REALLY ready for it. Plus, Salina's estatic for it!"
Salina: "(Offering the gummies to Alexandria who takes several) Wha-? Oh yea. Yooo! Totally hyped. Man, these gummies taste great. I knew it was a good idea to sneak them in."
Alexandria: "I freakin' needed those. Still, the next race calls more for marksmanship than driving. I should make it out alive, but I think I'll retire for the third leg of this race."

Press: "Er, right. So what was difficult about this race? Since it seems you three struggled a bit on the ice and snow."
Alexandria: "It's called NOT TRYING TO MAKE THE TRANSMISSION EXPLODE. Plus, the 50 degree incline was a beast. Now, for the snow and ice, the former was threatening to make the tracks fly off, I did NOT feel like having that happen, so I had to toy with the throttle. The ice is even riskier, again, I didn't want to throw the track so again I had to manage throttle and speed carefully. If it were mud, we could power through it no problem, but snow seems to attack the tank."
Betsy: "I blame the sprocket, it was designed to operate in urban areas, not a frozen hell. At least the data is going back home so they can remedy that mild oversight."

Press: "Well then! What about your names?"
Alexandria: "Should have asked that first. Alexandria! Driver!"
Betsy: "Betsy, commander."
Salina: "Salina, gunner!"

Press: "Oh, and also, what is the inside like?"
Betsy: "I mean, I'm not exactly allowed to describe it in full... But uh, imagine a dark room with some screens and buttons. I guess."
Alexandria: "Yea, that sums it up more or less."

Press: "Any opinions on the competition?:
Betsy: "The Abrams is nifty. But the heap of metal? Jeez... I'm surprised it even made it past the trench without falling apart. As for the rest, they seem pretty mundane."
Salina: "I doubt they could top us in the next segment!"

Press: "Well well! Any words of advice for those at home?"
Salina: "Look! We need you to join the army! Join the tank corps! You get to ride around in a Kashmir, and you won't need to worry about anything! Or you can even drive around in a T-95! The possibilities are endless!"

Press: "All hail our glorious leader!"
(All three crew in unison): "Hail Laura Ortiz!"

[Janpia]

The tank navigates itself through the mud, and reaches towards the starting platform. The engine revs loudly, making a jet engine-like noise inside. The crew then adjusted their monitors, looking towards the path they're about to take.

Kromsky:"Lucky Dart sure sounds nice when you powered it. Alright comrades, the finish line is juuuust up ahead through that thick dirt and snow. Though this will be a challenge mostly to Ulyana. Second Commander, keep watching the lookout screens. Gunner, ... Eh you watch the monutors. Alright! LD forward!

Ulyana then pushes on the levers and pedals, powering the engine, and making the armored machine move. As it gains speed, the crew holds on to something, as the compartment shakes a little due to the cement track being partially covered by snow and rocks. The compartments rocks a little, like a jet cruising on the runway about to take off.

Ulyana:"Lets see if Lucky Dart can run its maximum speed on this road condition! Homeland doesn't let us drive through magnificent road conditions like this, cause TrAiNs aRe FaStEr"

Ulyana grins as she slowly pushes on the lever, slowly reaching 50kph

Kromsky:"Aye comrade. Set it to max immidiately. I wanna see it zoom."

Ulyana:"Aye! Hold on!"

Ulyana immidiately shifts on the handle, and pushes down the lever to the bottom. The speedometer and engine heat readings went up immidiately, and everyone was pushed back as the tank reaches its maximum speed.

Kromsky:"Yes this is better!"

The compartment feels like the insides of a jet taking off. The noise, and the way the tank cruises almost feel like one.

Henselin:"Comrade! Trench just 200 meters! Arrival on 11 seconds!

Kromsky looks at his monitor, and sees a trench fastly approaching their distance

Kromsky:"Ulyana! Shift the transmission and suspension system to off-road!

Ulyana:"Aye!"

Ulyana then turns a button on her side, and continues the speed on a steady pace. The tank then crosses over it, making it jump a little, as the front and back wheels hits the corners of the trench.

Kromsky:Yaaaa! This is why tankist helmets exist."

Henselin:"Yea my head hits back to the monitor upon impact"

Kromsky laughs a bit, as Henselin tries to rub his forehead
--
As the tank reaches the snow section, Ulyana pulls the lever up a little, slowing down the tank. The tracks and wheels, all once covered in whitish greyish color due to mud and snow bits, turned into a complete white and black. The tank cruises on, leaving track marks as it goes.

Kromsky:"Similar to the Chikali Range training back home eh?"

Henselin:"Agree comrade. I believe Ulyana isn't much concerned of such. Though she's carefully navigating through, so that we ain't gonna be stuck here"

Kromsky nods to Henselin's response. On his screen, he can see a clear flat ice on their front

Ulyana:"Ice stuff! Up ahead!"

Kromsky:"Aye! We can see it. The tracks are fitted to counter slippery surfaces anyway. Just try not pulling the breaks frequently."

Ulyana didn't give any response. Though she plans on pulling the breaks, and letting the tank drifts through the ice. She whispers "How about I do it anyway". The moment it reaches the ice, Ulyana hits the maximum speed, and tries to keep the tank straight. Though in halfway, she cutted the power, and pulls the breaks, making it drift through the remaining ice.

Kromsky:"Ay! I said no breaks!"

Ulyana"Well atleast we overcome it faster!"

Kromsky remained silent. Though up ahead, Henselin alerted the crew once again

Henselin:"Slopes approaching!"

Kromsky:"Aye. Ulyana, be careful on handling the levers"

Ulyana:"Yes I know. What you see on your screens, I will overcome it"

Ulyana then adjusted the levers, and shifted the gear. The tank overcomes the first slope with almost little to no problems

Ulyana:"Well that was quite good slope. Almost like those speed bumps at the tests"

As the tank approaches the 50 degree incline, Ulyana stopped the tank, and adjusted the gears.

Ulyana:"Alright, this one looks tough. Grab on to something."

Henselin closely watches at the monitor

Henselin:"This angle looks almost like a goddamn wall"

Ulyana then charges the levers, and moves the tank to the slope. It climbs in very slowly, as Ulyana adjusted the gears and levers halfway. Though at the very least, they've overcome it.

Kromsky:"Nice one comrade!! We've done it!"

Ulyana smiles, as the crew cheers for her.

Ulyana:"Alright comrades! Finish line is up ahead. Our tank has survived!"

Kromsky:"Indeed! Lucky Dart really is lucky isn't?"

The crew smiles, upon hearing their commander's words. Having their tank successfully finishing the course.

[Sky Reavers]

After the tense driving stage, three jolly Sky Reavers were chilling outside the tank, drinking their rum and smoking joints. Feeling a bit hungry after the ride, they looked in the mini fridge, which was strapped to the backside of the tank. Given the weather conditions, it was turned off. Most food was frozen solid, so they had to heat it up a bit to eat and quench their munchies. Right, when they started, a bunch of different journalists came to them and started to ask questions and they just answered.

Yegor: "Yegor is my name! I am the commander, dudes! No, man! This tank ain't classified at all, cuz if ya' seen a Wastelander Type 4, ya' haven't een them all! They are all a bit different in designs, folks like to tune em' a lil' bit to fit their style. Ya'll can even make a selife with us! Stella! Pose! Oh, ya'll wonder, what were the other three types? Well... Wastelander Type 1, our first line of tanks were just killdozers, used during the revolution. Before real tanks were stolen from the government. Types 2 and 3 were jut more primitive versions.

What do we think of competition? They are all awesome and worthy dudes! And it's gonna be totally abso-groovy if we earn the first place or at least enter the first third! That's a challenge, where we try to outpace the creme de la creme of other nation militaires! Mmm... I wouldn't refuse to have some cream right now... I belive, they picked their finest and it's an honor to compete with them! Would be a great honor to win, and little shame to lose."

Stella: "Name's Stella! I am the one girl, drivin' this machine of war! Yeah... that was a hell of a ride! We just decided to go fast and risky, cuz who dares, wins! It's ain't a cakewalk on such speeds, that's for sure. And 50 degree slope was no picnic either! Ol' engine was so hot after that, ya' could fry some sausages on it! No, the clanker is alright!"- Suddenly something falls off the tank.-"Don't worry, that's a decorative thingy, that we barely somehow managed to put on da' machine.

Uniforms? Well, we don't have too many regulations, cuz ya' know, we ain't cut for that! No combat ready unit had ever passed inspection, and we are all combat ready, so why do we need these? Just look at my hair! It's awesome Neoner style!"

Mike: "Mike, the gunner! Gunnin' them hostiles with precision and rage! Yeah, I am aware of shootin' range challenge, and which targets I am gonna shoot at! No worries, I'll get it straight, cuz I am rather handy with different guns, not only mah' colt, but also heavier guns too! Lil' bit of booze ain't makin' me miss more. At least too much. Was slackin' during the first phase, cuz was no need to push this steed, but the nest stages gonna be mah' time to be the star!"

The three folks allowed journalsits to make selfies with them, the tank and the cabin. There were several bags of chips, a wrench, that replaced some lever, some bottles with alcohol, and a plastic bag with cannabis. It was decorated with several bobbleheads and a poster of a naked woman. There was a bear pelt on the floor. The other things didn't look too unusually. After some more questions and photos, they just started to prepare for the next stage.

[Erloane]

Erloanean mechanics work on the M1A3, removing all additional armor, coaxial GAU-19 mounted on the gun barrel and many other things in order to get the tank to be as light as possible, plus to show off the tank a little bit. Erloanean reporters stand around the tank, recording mechanics. Once the modifications were done mechanics and crewmen took a look at the competetion. Gonswanzan T-95, Reavan Wastelander Type 4, Janpian JP-1, Selkian Cealg Mark I-B Light Tank, Polish-Prussian PT-91MA1 Twardy and Mirum AT-MBT Gen. 3. Erloanean soldiers were impressed to say the least, but they believed that thier tank would serve them well. One more note, Erloanean soldiers weren´t that dressed, compared to others.

Erloaenan mechanics finish fueling the tank and crew embarks. The tanks gas turbine wakes to life and it slowly begins moving to the others at the starting line. The commander opens his hatch and gets a breath of cold air before getting back inside the tank.

(still having a writers block at the moment, will add the crews POV later)