[center][h3]Ziska[/h3][/center]

Things had gone from bad to worse to just bad again. One Panther down. One Mechbuster down. One Hunchback taking a brief nap in the snow. Ziska could smell blood in the water...on the snow and not just her own blood.

Hooker and his Marauder had changed the situation. Ingrid was right, deadly right. Aggression had become the name of the game. There was no time for caution and no time to hesitate. The die had been cast. Her BattleMech, her beautiful, sleek RVN-3L was battered and bruised. Its beautiful wings reduced to tatters, but it didn't matter. MechWarriors were just pawns, pieces on the board to be gambled, as long as the victory as achieve, what did it matter how it was won? And so Ziska shifted her throttle forward, sidestepping the heavy tank that had shielded her as she charged.

She didn't care, how they won the battle, Ziska knew that much. Winning the battle. Surviving to fight in the next one after that. And the next one after that. That was all that mattered to a mercenary. Honor didn't buy drinks. Mercy wouldn't save you. 

Calmly tracking the prone form of the Hunchback as she leaped over scattered ice, Ziska placed her crosshairs over the left torso of the prone Hunchback and pulled the trigger. Three missiles leaped from her launcher, followed by a sudden beep beep, and a the artificial voice of her BattleMech announcing, [i]"SRM Launcher Error, please stand by, SRM Launcher Error, please stand by, SRM Launcher Function Restored, please fire again."[/i]

Ziska cursed, keeping her BattleMech darting across the snow at a full run even as she struggled to present a difficult target on the narrow bridge. There was too much firepower on the board for her to be still or hide behind the Merry-Go-Round any longer. Darting forwards, the RVN-3L ran gracefully across the snow. Ziska had reached a quarter of the way across the natural bridge when the foot of her BattleMech sunk momentarily into a snow bank, sending her NARC sailing just wide of the Crusader and her TAG laser beaming futility off a frozen rock instead.

That time there was no swearing. Ziska didn't have the luxury to offer poetic words. She had places to be and people to kill. The Firewitch was waiting.

A sudden muffled thump, turned into a loud roaring explosion as the ammunition in the left torso of the stricken Hunchback finally detonated. Ziska allowed herself a brief smile, but no more, as she keyed her mic, "Hunchback down, got his ammo."