[h3][center][u][i]AFFS Subaltern Johan Rosales-Eichberg
Rifleman RFL-5D[/i][/u][/center][/h3]

	Johan heard the contact report. He inhaled sharply, what were the chances that there would be hostile contact, here, now? Just when he and this group of recruits were out on patrol. A group of 20t to 55t mechs and vehicles, more or less matching their own group. The only exception was that spheroid dropship. Fear gripped Johan when he thought about it, fighting a dropship was difficult even for experienced soldiers. He went though the types of dropships he learned in his combat identification course, and nearly every dropship that came to mind was armed to the teeth, with more than enough firepower to decimate a whole lance of mechs. Johan felt sweat on his palms and he wiped it off on his shorts, Captain Hart spoke again on the comlink, explaining their rules of engagement. The Captain was right, he was presuming they were all hostile, while not a bad thing, there was a chance that they were scavengers or maybe another group of mercenaries playing a prank. Johan swallowed and followed his group as ordered, slow and steady, he raised his guns to ready position poised to fire.

The young pilot glanced around, taking up the rear of his lance. He was their heavy hitter, their fire support. If these contacts were in fact hostile, anyone brave enough to peek out would have a face full of laser or PPC. He remembered some stories from his father. Larger than life characters, fellow mercenaries, his father talked about striding towards battle with his brothers in arms. He felt a little bit of pride, those people in his father's stories were veteran MechWarriors, pilots of hundreds of combat hours, with dozens of kills to their name. Johan felt like he was living his father's stories, the mechs moving in formation, the escorting vehicles, the chatter. Though he wasn't as good a pilot as they were, and neither were many of his Lancemates, maybe one day they would be up there and maybe one day someone would tell their stories to their kids. Johan, emboldened by this, gripped his control stick a little tighter and kept his eyes on the horizon awaiting further orders, a smile tugging at his lips.

[b]"HQ to all units, be advised. Hostiles identified near the treeline, probably from the Oberon Confederation - pirates."[/b] Lt. Mazigh reported. Johan's smile fell, definitely hostile then. He listened to the rest of the Lieutenant's report. An Urbanmech with an AC20 and small laser... he thought about which variant it was, and with a little assistance from his Rifleman's computers, it was most likely a UM-R60L. Johan patted the side of his front console a few times as he analyzed the information displayed on his neurohelmet. The UM-R60L carried the immensely powerful AC20, but it had the drawback of being only 30t making ammunition was extremely limited. The weight of the cannon also required some armor to be stripped off the light mech. Johan recalled from his classes that the Urbanmech was a slow, often thought of as a joke battlemech, but in urban environments where its strengths lie, it was more than capable. In this open ground though, the Urbanmech was at a disadvantage. The Harassers, as Lt. Mazigh reported, were extremely quick hovercraft packing powerful SRM6's. The computer assisted again, listing their tonnage, estimated armor, and speed. He was right. They were fast, extremely fast, but their armor was light. Johan blinked a few times and moved his torso left to right, scanning the horizon with his weapons, half expecting a Harasser or two to come speeding by. The hovercraft concerned him, they had the speed to quickly flank his battlemech and put more than a few SRM's into his back, even though he had the UAV covering him he wasn't sure if he could respond in time... but the AC20 on that Urbanmech was a threat as well, strong enough to crack open his mech with a single volley. Johan dismissed these thoughts and checked his heat gauge once more, becoming more and more anxious as they approached their enemy.
Johan thumbed his communications, speaking quickly, [b]"Our plan, Captain?"[/b]