[h1][center][color=a187be]MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka[/color][/center][/h1]
[@PaulHaynek]

After the initial shock of ambush, once the violence had commenced, it was like a switch had been turned on in Hyouka. Was it discipline, or merely a subroutine being mechanically rerouted? The friendly, cheery Hyouka took on a serious and stern demeanor. She was about to report that she and Camille were fine before her response was cut short by Gordian being impaled. Hyouka barely flinched, but turned on her comms and reported, [color=a187be]"Medic! Hospitaller Gordian is down..."[/color] and gave their position relative to the caravan and their downed transport. As much as she wanted to help Gordian receive medical attention, she knew that if every soldier turned to help their downed brethren, there would be no one to fight off their attackers and prevent further harm. Hyouka had built herself to fight, and that was what she was going to do, and let those equipped to help perform the functions they were trusted with. But  Hyouka had another matter to address. [color=a187be]"Camille! Pull yourself together. Can you fight? If you can, fight! If you can't...get Gordian to the medics. But whatever you do, don't do nothing!"[/color] Hyouka regretted the fact that Camille had to be thrust into this situation, though the sight of her weapon indicated that she must have had some degree of training. Hyouka also felt the irony that she had just said how humans and robots weren't that much different, when one of their biggest differences, their mortality, was staring Camille in the face at this very moment.

It was also unfortunate that Camille had just said that she was not mission critical, because it meant that Hyouka had to de-prioritize Camille's safety for the collective safety of the caravan, and could not waste any more time babying Camille. Leaving Camille to her own devices, Hyouka activated her defense field, climbed on top of the flipped transport, and attached her main cannon to the generator in her chest. As the weapon warmed up, the cannons on her shoulders swiveled about, firing searing magenta beams at the enemy's backline in an effort to disrupt whatever support they provided, while thinning out reinforcements to the front. When her heavy particle beam bazooka had fully warmed up, she would fire it at anything that looked like a command center or command group. If none could be found, she would draw a swath of devastation along the enemy's rear lines.