The atmosphere in Liberty Prime University Academy's (L.P.U.A.) command briefing room was heavy with tension as Anthony Grant and Tyrone Williams poured over the list of schools that had already succumbed to the Japanese Sensha-Dō Federation's demands. The long sheet of names was pinned to a tactical map, their respective regions marked in red to signify their compliance.

Seated across from them were Logan Roy, the brooding Overall Commander of Léo Major Academy (L.M.A.), his Vice-Commander, and the charismatic leaders of Mexico's Tankery school, Alejandro Cortés and his sharp-eyed Vice-Commander.

Anthony leaned forward, his elbows resting on the polished table as he scanned the list. His dark eyes burned with quiet fury as the names of schools from around the globe stared back at him:

Middle East: Several smaller schools with limited funding and no military backing, unable to resist the Federation's demands.
South America: A handful of schools, including some in rural Argentina and Colombia, stripped of their WWII tanks and barred from allowing male students to participate.
Africa: A few fledgling programs, mostly in nations without the resources to sustain independent Tankery programs.
Europe: Smaller schools in the Balkans, particularly in Albania and Serbia, which lacked the political and financial clout to resist.

Anthony's fist clenched as he muttered, "They're targeting the ones who can't fight back. Picking off the weaker schools first, hoping the bigger ones will fall in line when they see resistance is futile."

Tyrone, sprawled lazily in his chair but with his sharp mind fully engaged, glanced at Logan. "What about you guys up north? Any pressure?"

Logan's stern expression didn't waver. "They tried," he said in his deep, gravelly voice. "Sent some bureaucrats to strong-arm us into compliance. They left with a broken arm and a formal complaint to the Canadian government. Léo Major doesn't bow."

Alejandro leaned forward, his voice tinged with anger. "In Mexico, they're using more subtle tactics. Promising funding and sponsorships to schools that comply, while cutting off resources to those who resist. So far, we've held out, but it's only a matter of time before they try something more aggressive."

Anthony nodded grimly. "They're using every trick in the book. Bribes, threats, coercion. And the worst part? Some schools are too desperate to say no."

The group turned their attention to a secondary list pinned beside the first: Schools That Refuse to Comply. These names were marked in green, a beacon of defiance in an increasingly bleak situation.

Liberty Prime University Academy (USA)
Léo Major Academy (Canada)
Highlanders Academy (Scotland)
Accademia di Carri Armati d'Italia (Italy)
United Federation Tankery Academy (Russia)
Häyhä Academy (Finland)

"These are the ones we can count on," Logan said, his tone even but resolute. "The ones with enough resources or backbone to stand their ground."

Alejandro pointed to the map. "We need more allies. If we let them keep picking off the smaller schools, it's only a matter of time before they turn their full attention to us."

Tyrone leaned back, his arms crossed. "True. But we can't just sit back and wait for them to come to us. We need to hit back—strategically."

Anthony nodded, his gaze steely. "Exactly. We need to unify these schools into a coalition. Show the Federation that we won't be divided."

The group spent hours brainstorming strategies, their ideas flowing freely as they worked together to counter the Federation's influence.

Public Awareness Campaign
Alejandro suggested leveraging social media to expose the Federation's strong-arm tactics. "If the world sees what they're doing—especially to the smaller schools—they'll lose credibility."

Resource Sharing
Logan proposed creating a network to pool resources, ensuring that schools under threat wouldn't be left vulnerable. "We have the tanks, the manpower, and the experience. Let's use them."

Diplomatic Pressure
Anthony emphasized the importance of involving sympathetic governments and international organizations. "The Federation thinks they can do whatever they want because no one's challenging them on a political level. We need to change that."

Unified Matches
Tyrone suggested hosting an independent Tankery tournament outside the Federation's jurisdiction. "If we show the world a better way to play, we'll undermine their authority."

As the meeting wound down, Logan voiced a grim reality. "Defying them won't be without consequences. They'll come after us—hard. Are we ready for that?"

Anthony met his gaze, his expression unyielding. "We've been ready since day one. If they think they can break us, they've got another thing coming."

Alejandro smirked, his confident demeanor returning. "Let them come. We'll be waiting."

Tyrone chuckled, his relaxed tone a stark contrast to the tension in the room. "And when they do, we'll send them packing with their tails between their legs."

As the group stood to leave, Anthony extended his hand. "Let's make this official. From this moment on, we're not just individual schools—we're a united front."

Logan was the first to clasp Anthony's hand, followed by Alejandro and the others. The weight of their collective resolve was palpable, a silent promise to stand together against the growing tide of injustice.

"United we stand," Logan said, his voice like a battle cry.

Anthony nodded, a determined smile breaking through his serious demeanor. "And divided, we'll make damn sure they fall."

The room fell silent as the leaders of four of the world's strongest Tankery schools cemented their alliance. The fight ahead would be brutal, but together, they were ready to take on the Federation and defend the integrity of the sport they loved.

The next day, Anthony stepped off the Blackhawk helicopter, the thrum of its blades fading as the tropical breeze of the Caribbean greeted him. The scent of the sea and distant sounds of steel tanks clinking echoed over the sprawling grounds of Jumbie Mass Union University (J.M.U.U.), where Tankery wasn't just a sport—it was a movement rooted in the shared pride of thirteen nations.

Beside him, Tyrone adjusted his sunglasses, already taking in the colorful surroundings. "Man, I can get used to this vibe," he said, his usual laid-back tone tinged with genuine admiration. "Beats the cold-ass meetings back home."

Anthony, dressed in his usual L.P.U.A. uniform, nodded but stayed focused. Their task here was more than diplomacy—it was about solidarity against the encroaching influence of the Japanese Sensha-Dō Federation.

Unlike other Tankery schools, J.M.U.U didn't have a single Overall Commander. Instead, its thirteen regional commanders, each representing a Caribbean nation, worked together, embodying the unity that defined the school. They stood in a semi-circle near the landing pad, their diverse uniforms blending elements of traditional Caribbean wear with modern Tankery gear.

Olivia "Liv" Marshall, representing Antigua and Barbuda, stepped forward first.

Her bright copper-red hair caught the sunlight, and her hazel-green eyes sparkled with warmth as she extended a hand. "Welcome to Jumbie Mass Union University, Commander Grant. It's an honor to finally meet you."

Anthony shook her hand firmly. "The honor's mine. You've built something remarkable here."

Next to her, Rashad "Rash" Thompson from The Bahamas, sporting a relaxed grin and aviator sunglasses, chimed in, "Hope you're ready for some island-style Tankery, mon. We do things a little... different."

Tyrone chuckled. "I'd expect nothing less."

The commanders led Anthony and Tyrone through the training grounds, a sprawling complex where the vibrant energy of the Caribbean was on full display. Tanks painted with island motifs—vivid blues, greens, and yellows—rolled across the terrain, their crews calling out commands in a mix of English, Creole, and Spanish.

One group caught Anthony's eye: Marie-Claire Desroches from Haiti, her crew practicing precision maneuvers with an M4 Sherman adorned with the Haitian flag and intricate Vodou-inspired designs.

Her voice, calm but commanding, carried across the field.

"She's one of our best," said Ezra Jean-Baptiste of Dominica, his deep voice matching his solid frame. "Keeps her cool under pressure—something you can't teach."

Further along, they encountered Kiera "Key" Johnson from Barbados, her fiery demeanor evident as she directed her team in a fast-paced drill.

"Let's move like a hurricane, not a drizzle!" she barked, her words punctuated by the rumble of her Cromwell tank's engine.

After the tour, Anthony, Tyrone, and the J.M.U.U commanders gathered in a makeshift command tent, the air thick with a mix of camaraderie and purpose. A large map of the Caribbean spread across the central table, marked with the locations of key Tankery events and schools under threat.

Anthony leaned forward, his gaze sweeping the room. "You've seen the list. Smaller schools, much like yours, are being picked apart by the Federation. They think you're easy targets."

Valentina Ortiz from Cuba, her expression steely, replied, "Let them try. We've faced worse."

"Still," Anthony said, his tone firm, "resilience alone won't be enough. That's why I'm here—to help unify our efforts. We need to stand together, not just as individual schools but as a coalition."

The room buzzed with agreement, but it was Shaka McLean from Trinidad and Tobago who raised a key question.

"What's the plan, then? Unity sounds great, but how do we put it into action?"

Over the next few hours, Anthony, Tyrone, and the J.M.U.U commanders hammered out a plan. The strategy focused on three pillars:

Resource Sharing

J.M.U.U's unique challenge was its lack of modern tanks and equipment. Anthony proposed a loan program, where schools like L.P.U.A. and Léo Major Academy could provide surplus gear and training support.

Cultural Strength

Tyrone highlighted the importance of showcasing J.M.U.U's identity on the global stage. "Your culture is your greatest weapon. Infuse it into your Tankery—make them see the Caribbean spirit every time you roll onto the field."

Defensive Alliances

The coalition would establish a rapid response network, ensuring that any school under threat could count on immediate support from its allies.

As the meeting wrapped up, a messenger burst into the tent, breathless. "Commander Liv! We've got a situation—Brazil's Tankery school has issued a direct challenge to J.M.U.U!"

The room fell silent, the weight of the news sinking in. Liv exchanged glances with her fellow commanders before turning to Anthony. "Looks like we'll need to put this alliance to the test sooner than we thought."

Anthony's lips curled into a determined smile. "Good. Let's show them what the Caribbean is made of."

That evening, the J.M.U.U students hosted a cultural night to celebrate their newfound alliance. The air was alive with the sounds of steel drums, reggae, and salsa. Tables overflowed with Caribbean delicacies—jerk chicken, arroz con pollo, and callaloo.

Anthony, dressed down in a simple shirt and pants, found himself surrounded by curious students eager to hear about L.P.U.A. Meanwhile, Tyrone, ever the charmer, was engaged in a lively debate with Akeem Johnson of Jamaica about whose music was better—reggae or hip-hop.

The night ended with a toast, led by Liv, her copper-red hair glowing in the firelight. "To unity, strength, and the Jumbie spirit!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices blending into a harmonious roar that echoed across the island. For Anthony and Tyrone, this was more than just an alliance—it was the beginning of something extraordinary.

Author's note: Here are the other commanders.

Elena Gomez from Dominican Republic

Marcus "Marc" Peters from Grenada

Amara Francois from Saint Lucia

Desmond "Des" Lewis from St. Kitts and Nevis

Nia Baptiste from St. Vincent and the Grenadines