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

Half-buried in snow with a snow covered tarp carefully covering the top of her BattleMech, Ziska lounged pleasantly in her RVN-3L. Cat napping, she listened with well-practiced relaxation to the sound of the mountains that surrounded the Green Knights. She had taken care to nestle her BattleMech between two large rocks in the grid so drolly named [b]L8[/b]. The two frozen boulders would only have reached up to the shoulders of her BattleMech had she not left the already small mech crouching. Peeking from between the geological formation, she had shielded all but the right side of her light mech. The less of your BattleMech an enemy could see or target the better.

Once more Ziska felt happy. And once more she felt at ease. She had grown tired of all the talking. Of all the orders. Of all the wishful thinking. Now things felt serious again. And now they were real. Death was nearby and she was an old friend. 

An ambush felt good. An ambush felt right. Smash and grab. No words. No mercy. Just revenge. A message for the Crimson Fists. And a message just for the Firewitch. She didn't care about mercy. She certainly didn't care about honor. She was no stranger to battles with flexible rules of engagement. Mercy was not something pirates often offered...or received. Either you won or it was someone else's problem. The dead didn't care, they were dead. Salvage went to the living.

Ingrid's plan pleased Ziska. She smiled hearing it. It amused her. She would have toasted Ingrid had the doctor not confiscated her alcohol before they sortied. Bait was good. Bait was better when she wasn't the bait. She wasn't going to leave Ingrid alone for long though. She had her own game plan. ECM on, powered to full capacity, more than enough to make sure the Crimson Fists fell for the diminutive noble's gambit. And then she'd go in for a lightening quick attack, a "blitz" as the Lyrans called it, not that they understood anything about hit and run tactics. The RVN-3L was fast enough. The ECM Reya had souped up was good enough. It would buy her some time. It would hopefully keep the Crimson Fists guessing for a moment longer. If she could manage a TAG lock or NARC hit, well then, Marit could bring down some thunder. At least she would give Ingrid a chance.

Ziska hoped that Ingrid would survive. She knew there were no guarantees, especially for the brave, but she was going to do what she could to make it happen. It would be very boring if the threat of an honorable duel was no loner having over her. She wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't have such amusing violence close at hand. She might have to turn to reading or something equally tragic like playing chess with Sergeant Dalton.