Great, these tossers were about as stable as the Espian government and they weren’t even trying to hide it. True, she almost expected as much from someone willing to do what they did, but it was still nice to know how well put together the Knights actually were, despite their quirks.

And apparently, the true Knights were shit talking back. Can do. Switching comms to a short-range open channel, hopefully she’d reach the Fists without somebody else outside of the map Hex picking it up. [color=76D0FF]”Hey, look, I get it. It’s okay to be jealous of our talent and style, I know we look stunning, but dressing up your rattletraps to look like our ‘Mechs before you go catch up on your war crime quota is a serious no-go. Cut that shit out before we stop telling the duchess to be nice to you.”[/color] It was a little unfortunate that the duchess in question was retreating, on fire and about five degrees from busting her ass when Marit said it, but the lunatics probably didn’t know who that was, so all was in order except the ‘Duchess is on fire’ bit.

Right after that, the Crusader decided to give her some attention, a flight of missiles scratching Archie’s paint. With the way an Archer’s cockpit was placed, from where she was sitting it looked like the missiles were about to fall down the back of her neck. A quick check revealed nothing broken, allowing Marit to get back into the mix unburdened. As far as she and Archie were concerned, the most effective weapon the Fists had so far was the noise coming out of their faces. Maybe if they kept the Firestarter guy talking for long enough, his own lance would switch sides. Furthermore, they basically admitted to their false flag shenanigans, so that was a plus. Spurring Archie forward to get as close as possible to minimize missile spread on target, she stopped uncomfortably close to the edge of the ravine, ready to lean back at the first sign of losing balance. Falling on her back was preferable to falling a hundred meters.

Then the symbols of Ziska’s TAG laser and NARC beacon appeared on Marit’s HUD, and so did a broad grin on her face. Temporarily forgetting the stricken Panther, the missiles eagerly locked onto the marked Firestarter, almost quivering in the launchers to be allowed to fly with purpose. Who was Marit to deny them? [color=76D0FF]”Dodgy fucker, aren’t you?”[/color] Marit idly asked with an audible grin, addressing the Firestarter and setting all three launchers to top fire mode to avoid the Panther and Catapult it was hiding behind, Ziska’s TAG making sure their accuracy wouldn’t suffer like it usually did with indirect fire. [color=76D0FF]”Dodge this, Piss-colored Clown.”[/color] She transmitted as she fired all of her ordnance at the Firestarter.

And fly with purpose they did, riding the beam of Ziska’s TAG home and tearing chunks out of the Firestarter’s torso armor and structure. Its right arm flew off, the left one barely hanging on by myomer and prayers before ultimately joining its sister. Thermals picked up a heat spike through the holes in the Firestarter’s mangled center torso, Archie’s sensors reporting serious damage to its engine with 92% certainty. She liked that number. [color=76D0FF]”Get fucked!”[/color] She cheered off comms. She owed Ziska a drink. Forget that, if she kept the spotting up for a few more sorties, Marit would buy her a whole bar.