[h2][center][b]Merry-Go-Round[/b][/center][/h2]

Aroxy watched Tarak’s Phoenix Hawk dance out of the way just in time for the inset barrel of the [i]Hunchback[/i]’s AC20 to be pointed straight at them.

[i]Shit.[/i]

[i]Merry[/i] took it right on the chin and it was like being smashed by a massive hammer that rattled the crew’s teeth, but the massive tank took it like a wave crashing against a pier. The lights and sensor screens inside the hull flickered briefly, but everything was holding, having absorbed the blast completely through her armor. [i]She is angry.[/i] Aroxy thought to himself as he looked back up through the periscope, his view slightly marred by black, scorched soot from the explosion. The [i]Hunchback[/i] attempted a kick towards Tarak, but missed and now they were barrel to barrel again, even closer than before, like two battleships in the stories of old and it was time to remind that stocky little bastard about the pecking order of AC20 shooters on the mountain. 

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.” Takka growled through gritted teeth. Aroxy wasn’t entirely sure if his gunner was referring to Tarak or the Crimson Fist pilot. 

“FIRE!” Aroxy barked.

The answer of the Von Luckner’s cannon barked back through the pass and the tank shuttered as the high powered shell roared out of the barrel back at the [i]Hunchback[/i]. 

“Missiles!” Aroxy commanded again. “Give him both racks, Helma.” He knew again. He didn’t have to specify which. The direct hit from the enemy mech had the crew dialed up to eleven. It was real for them. No scratched paint, dancing around, showboating or giving speeches. Helma slammed the launch controls for both the [i]Von Luckner[/i]’s short range batteries at the same time sending an angry cloud of missiles right behind Takka’s shot out of the main gun. “Keep an eye on that [i]Crusader[/i], Helma.” Aroxy said scanning, eyes darting fast, assessing, prioritizing. He didn’t have time to notice whatever had transpired as the [i]Firestarter[/i] fell, but he was most definitely trying to keep the Knights’ more abused mech jocks in the fight. They needed to move. “Takka, shift left, make ready to fire again, don’t block the TAG beam.” He said watching Ziska’s battered [i]Raven[/i] skittering by with an arm missing, but still keeping its nearly invisible TAG beam trained. He could hear Ansel working, knowing just by the sound of his loader’s movements where he was in the reload as he felt the tracks begin to bite in opposite directions and rotate the hull.