[center][h3]Zohra[/h3][/center]
[hr]

"Damage?"

"Nothing noteworthy, Leutnant. Wear and tear, mostly. Some minor damage. Some bent armor panels. Fixed it, though. Even had time for a fresh coat of paint. Better than the rest of these antiques. You got some luck, maybe, but you chose well."

He was right, Zohra knew. The electronic warfare equipment was gone from the RVN-2X, courtesy of whatever military outfit that had claimed the BattleMech before the FRR. A pity, state-of-the-art EW equipment would have been nice, but given the state of the some of the other BattleMechs, Zohra was certain that she had little cause to complain. The weapons were functional well within parameters. A Davion inspired refit, the RVN-2X had gained 2.5 tons of armor and a Cyclops Eye large laser mounted in the left torso. According to Zimmerman, the CE LL had been salvaged from a ruined Drillson Heavy Hover Tank. 

Before she had redirected him, Zimmerman had spent several minutes explaining the greater reliability afforded by the slit-like emitter design and the endless benefits of avoiding the use of vulnerable long and focusing mirrors in a military grade laser. Beam of light and stream of particles, was mostly what she remembered, and what that meant for penetrating power. The SRM-6 was standard, Harpoon-6, mounted in the right torso with one tone of CASE-protected ammunition in the left torso, a pleasant boon, given the realities of combat. Two Capellan made Kajuka Type 2 "Bright Blossom" medium lasers, nominally intended for Aerospace Fighters, rounded out the weapons Zohra now commanded. A more than respectable loadout for a light mech capable of hitting 97.2 km/h. The C-Apple Churchill targeting/tracking system functioned admirably and Zohra couldn't help but note that Zimmerman had tweaked it admirably based on a brief conversation during her simulation runs.

"Zimmerman?" Zohra finally said, interrupting her brief thoughts of delivering long range doom and violence, and forcing herself to look up from the puttering diagnostic computer that she held in her lap.

"Ja, Leutnant?" the MechTech replied from where he crouched over foot of the Raven-2X, adjusting the step actuator based on the feedback from the program that he had told Zohra to run.

"Please, for the thousandth time, Zimmerman, call me Zohra. You are the expert here. I do not need you call me by my former rank... We are not in the DCMS or any other military outfit."

"Jawohl, Leutnant Zohra," Zimmerman replied, offering a salute as he rose in a sudden movement, bringing his boot heels together with a loud click. The motion seemed so instinctive that Zohra couldn't help but wonder, once again, in the span of several short hours, what sort of MechTech it was that the FRR had assigned her. The squat Lyran had all the subtle touches military training scattered across his oil covered person. LCAF Zohra would have guessed, but she couldn't be sure. Zimmerman had offered no previous rank or military allegiance and she was too polite to broach the subject so early in their relationship.

"The runes painted on the mech? They're beautiful!" Zohra offered instead, beaming a smile at Zimmerman. "Who painted them? It doesn't look like Swedense to me, but I can recognize some of the letters."

Zimmerman shrugged, "It's not, Swedense. It's older by far. And I painted the runes. I had some time to kill. They said you would arrive earlier."

"What do they say? The runes, I mean."

"Old letters. Old words. Quotes I heard or read. Some good luck charms. Old prayers. Several choice messages for Hanse Davion and Theodore Kurita. You know, the usual."

"I doubt it could hurt at this point. What do you think of our chances, Zimmerman? We seem to be embarking on quite the risky operation."

"The odds are long, but I bet that you would last at least ten missions. If it makes any difference, Leutnant. The others...well maybe don't go making any close friends. I heard little by the way of good news before they posted me here."

"Thank you, Zimmerman," Zohra said with a laugh. "That is very reassuring to hear. I will try not to disappoint you."

There was no malice or offense in her voice an she spoke true. She did not begrudge the support personnel their gambling. They were a speculative venture and there was no need to pretend otherwise. Self-created delusions did not last long once the LRMs and large bore autocannon rounds started flying.

"Good, I don't want to owe Elena any money."