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

She was tired. Staying awake had required more effort than she remembered. Thomas. Thrice-Hanged. Seemed to know better than to bother her. She almost forgot he was still in the cockpit. Muscle memory sent her fingers clattering across keys, broadcasting her Battle Rom data to the Green Knight HQ. She liked the cave. She quite liked the cave. It was comfy, Ziska had argued more than once. She enjoyed the rough sparseness of their temporary base. There were less distractions. Less interruptions.

Only what mattered remained. Only what they could carry with them. It was only a matter of time before they had to move again. The Crimson Fists and government forces wouldn't be caught napping again. Hunters would be coming. The old game would begin again. Cat and mouse, well...cat and cat. They weren't just prey. And the Crimson Fists weren't just hunters. Every step, every sortie, every chance they got they'd make the Crimson Fists pay. In blood, in mechs, and in lives.

"Ziska?" A voice asked from far away, accompanied by the gentle hiss of the cockpit seal disengaging and a gust of mercifully cold air as the cockpit hatch opened. There was a familiar lilt to the feminine voice, a Combine clip, serious and to the point,"The Colonel said to keep the Raven running, he wants the ECM to stay on, he’s worried about surveillance devices."

"Yeah, yeah, I had heard him," Ziska managed, flicking switches until the RVN-3L patiently waited in standby mode, the fusion reactor no more than a gentle hum. "What are you going here, Doc?"

"You’re hurt," Doctor Yuri Nakajima said matter-of-factually. Ziska admired her directness, her professionalism. Nakajima didn't play games. She didn't pretend. She didn't tell people what she thought they wanted to hear. Just like Davids. Just like Davids, Nakajima made it a habit to correct Ziska, and she tried, damned if she didn't try to convince Ziska to drink less, to act less rashly, and to get into fewer fights.

"Says who?" Ziska managed, ignoring the throbbing pain.

"Ziska! Look at me," Doc said, peering down at Ziska over her sliding glasses.

"Sorry, Doc, it’s kind of hard to see right now. I tried wiping away the blood, but never was much good at cleaning. What was that the Colonel said about a briefing?"

"Don't worry about that now, let me take a look at you, that's a nasty cut."

"Turns out it's not a good idea to eat a volley of LRMs from an Assault...who would've thought?" Ziska rambled, laughing as she released her safety, and stumbled to her feet.

"Ziska, listen, you need medical attention! Sit down! Stop moving!" Doctor Yuri Nakajima snapped, pushing Ziska back into the seat. For all her many qualities, it was too bad Nakajima couldn't take a joke, Ziska recalled, remembering the last time the doctor had yelled at her.

"I need a drink. We can do this dance later. Let me go, Doc, I'm sure there's someone else you can fix first."

"Ziska, if you don't stop moving, I will simply have Master Sergeant Dalton [b]secure[/b] you until I can properly treat your wounds. And I promise you, he won't be nearly as gentle as I will be."

"I can take him," Ziska said, doing her best to glare at the doctor with her guy.

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep this up, Ziska."

"Nah, cat's got nine lives, don't you know? I'm only at fifteen. Plenty more to go."

"Are you going to behave or do I need to get the sedative?"

"Fine, Fine!" Ziska grumbled, raising her hands in mock defeat. "You can have five minutes, Doc. Glue or staples, it's all the same to me, just patch me up enough for the briefing. You can have your way with me after."

[hr]

Supported by an exasperated looking Doctor Nakajima, Ziska emerged from the smoldering RVN-3L with a bandage covering the right side of head and an open bottle of Tikinov vodka clutched in her left hand. 

Her technicians, already feverishly attacking the ruined armor of the BattleMech, looked up as Ziska sauntered forward with the help of the doctor. Seeing Ziska, Kesi's face turned pale, and for a moment Ziska almost felt bad. Kesi was too kind to be a mercenary, she thought. She was a good friend and Ziska knew she would be worried. Sunther pretended not to notice and offered a brief nod, before turning his attention back to the data pad in front of him. Minhas looked to be on the verge of tears, casting worried gazes at the RVN-3L and Ziska in equal measure. Kan, serene as ever, to Ziska's great annoyance, simply approached to offer Ziska a kind touch on her shoulder and gentle squeeze. Licht frowned, aware of the amount of repairs that would have to be done, but Davids, Davids was already raging.

"You call this being careful?"

"Careful enough," Ziska shot back with a grin. "Drink?"

"You can shove that bottle right up your ass, Ziska," Davids spat, picking up a wrench, storming down the gantry, and back to the RVN-3L.

"Well, more for me," Ziska said, shrugging as she took a slow, heavy pull from the bottle. Doctor Nakajima's frown did little to dissuade her.

"Minhas, don't look so worried! I'm fine. The RVN-3L is...uhhh...mostly fine. Traded some armor for a Crimson First RVN-3L, no more, no less. But now, help me get me to the briefing, Davids can manage without you for half an hour."