Once you enter a tank, there is no bailing.

You accept the reality that you are encased in a plasteel sarcophagus that could explode at any moment . Every second spent on the battlefield could be your last. You accept the fact that statistically, you have a 67.5% chance of dying on the battlefield when you enter the cupola. You accept the fate that your life is now tied to your crew in a symbiotic relationship. There is no you. There is only the crew. 

That is the creed of a tanker. 

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“ Hey, watch it! Watch it! You’re going to ruin the rifling if you push that down my baby like that!” 

“ Fuck off, Helma. Remember who was the one who shot down that Locust while you were trying to unjam your gun?” 

Aroxty groaned at the morning call of arguments that incidentally acted as an alarm. As much as he wanted to discourage it, silence was never a strong factor of discipline in his crew. The sudden bout of commotion made him stand up too fast, causing his head to collide with a coolant pipe. His forehead aching, Aroxty grumbled as he scratched his itchy butt in the cramped confines of the Von Luckner before slowly taking out a canister of Brace and taking a whiff. The stimulant ignited the nerves in his brain as he slowly recollected where he was. 

They were on Espia.

Correction.

They were on Espia and were the only tanker crew left remaining in the Green Knights. 

God, what a shitshow.

Aroxy opened his lapel pocket and took out a scruffy old photo . It had been taken during a campaign Noxus where the Green Knights assisted the local planetary governor in defending their transport from pirates that sought to steal their agricultural produce. The other tankers had insisted on taking a group photo after they had downed a squad of Atlas’s in an ambush. All of them together were standing on top of a cockpit of a downed Atlas. 

Montgomery was the seven foot blonde to his right with a big grin. Aroxy only remembered his screams of pain on the radio when the Fists had napalmed his prized Bulldog with him on the inside.

Ludmila’s scowl under her thick bush of ginger hair made his heart twinge with pain. The last he saw of her was seeing her Manticore being swallowed in a shower of artillery fire. 

Lastly was Gregor. The poor four-eyed bastard made the mistake of opening his hatch only for an enemy Mech to turn his upper torso into mincemeat. 

Aroxy sighed, burying the grief in favor of stoicism, as he refolded the photo and put it back into his pocket with a longing gaze. 

“ You motherfucker. That was my favorite wrench!” 

“ Hey, stop that! Let go, you bitch!” 

Of course, his crew had to ruin the ambiance. Aroxy stood up, brushed a wisp of hair off his brow before climbing out of the porthole and inspecting just what the hell was causing all the ruckus. 

Merry-Go-Round, their crew’s Von Luckner, was parked on the periphery of the camp, near the edge of the cave where most of the Green Knights were hiding or what was left of them. Helma Etom, the crew’s engineer, and the Morven, the crew’s gunner, were engaged in a scuffle whilst Takka, the assistant loader, was leaning on the Merry-Go-Round’s side with an amused smile.  Helma had her teeth buried in Morven’s hair, rabidly trying to rip it out whilst Morven was busy trying to aim his fist towards the engineer’s throat. Both parties paused as soon as they saw Aroxy exiting the tank and immediately tried to begin disentangling each of their limbs from one another like earthworms. 

“ Ladies,” He nodded towards Helma who was currently spitting out strands of Morven’s hair.  “ Gentlemen.”  Morven had an expression of embarrassment on his face as he stepped away from Helma. 

“ I see you’ve been busy while I was trying to take a nice nap.” Aroxy slammed his fist on the driveguard affectionately as if the old war machine was a dog.  “Give me a sitrep.” 

Takka stepped forward, his hands squeezed together, as he regarded his commander coolly. 

“ Well, sir, do you want the bad news or the good news?” 

“ Let’s start with the bad.” 

“ Well…”  Takka looked down at his clipboard. “ ….our last engagement with the Fists shook us up pretty bad, sir. We’re missing half of our frontal plating and a quarter on our sides. We’ve had to make due with replacement armor.” 

Aroxy raised an eyebrow.

“ Define replacement.” 

This time, Helma piped up, raising her hand with a sheepish look.

“ Well, sir, we had to requisition the mobile cafeteria and break it down.” 

Aroxy blinked several times in disbelief before looking at the Merry-Go-Round closely. The plasteel and ferrocrete armor had sheets of steel bolted on it from which Aroxy could still read a few words that had been painted on which were “ FREE FOOD” and “ RATIONS.” 

“ So, what you’re saying is that you broke down the company’s only active Growler into ablative armor?” 

There was an audible five second silence before Takka spoke up nonchalantly.

“ Yes.” 

“ Well, second-lieutenant - “ Aroxy gave a laser-pointed stare towards Helma who shrank under his gaze. 
 I don’t know whether to praise you for your ingenuity or your idiocy. What’s the rest of the bad news?” 

Takka continued reading out the list boredly which was in direct odds to the severity of the damage report. Aroxy internally cringed as he wondered how the hell the Colonel was expecting them to take on a single mech, much less an infantry squad, with the condition the Merry-Go-Round was in. 

“ …And that’s not even counting the hit to the engine. I’ll be surprised if she makes it for the next 50 klicks or so without blowing a gasket.” 

“ I’m surprised there’s still some good news left after all you said to me.” 

“ Well, we’ve got some good news, sir.” Takka raised two fingers up. “ Our armaments are still active and our SRM pods are miraculously intact.” 

“ Which I would be grateful for if only we didn’t have enough ammunition to barely smoke out an infantry platoon.”  Aroxy nodded for Takka to continue. “ And what’s the next piece of good news?” 

“ The tea machine isn’t broken.” 

“ Well, that’s reassuring.” 

Their discussion was then stopped short by the familiar sound of the Colonel’s shout echoing off the cave walls. The camp around them began to assemble towards the briefing area. Aroxy rolled his shoulders as he beckoned his crew to line up and follow him. 

“ C’mon, lads. Let’s hear about what suicide mission the Colonel has for us this time.”