Of everything seen in the field during her time in Espia, the loud report of...bodily...functions in the distance actually made Ingrid pause.  At first she imagined it the report of high-volume autocannons that, ironically, would come soon afterward.  But no, looking at an ejection chair and running the sound by in her head once more gave her what the punchline was supposed to be.  She couldn't even be mad.  Not to say she enjoyed it, but it was just too juvenile to take as some kind of lofty insult towards their profession.  The kind of thing that seven year olds and drunk uncles took as the peak of humor.  Perhaps they [i]were[/i] drunk.  Perhaps Ingrid felt, for a second, that she would be better served that way.

No.  That would have to wait.  A quiet [i][color=SteelBlue]"I feel sick"[/color][/i] in German, to no one in particular, would comfort her in the meantime.

This action didn't leave her too unaware; she saw the Hunchback pull up towards her well ahead of their collision.  She fired back into it, carving glowing trails in the metal with lasers, but as she backpedaled there wasn't much she could do to avoid its impact.  In fact, it was backpedaling that left her in a bad space to begin with: there was nowhere near the amount of maneuvering room she usually had to work with, for any further back would lead to the chasm. The [i]Ostroc[/i]'s internal computers worked with her own sense to try and dodge the stocky swing of her opponent's metal boot, but it caught her in the leg still.  Her practice kept her stable, but unable to roll with the blow for lack of space, she was left near-stationary.

To Raven she replied, [color=SteelBlue]"You keep going, Family Man!  Fire on the Hunchback or let me deal with it - he's decided to make himself my problem!"[/color]  She took a moment to breathe and added, [color=SteelBlue]"Tankers,"[/color] (the best she'd give mere armor pilots), [color=SteelBlue]"you have a bit before the next pass, let them take their time coming back!  The rest of you, keep it in mind - they'll take whatever's the most open shot."[/color]

This was fine.  She could work with this.  The [i]Hunchback[/i] was falling over already, and she didn't even leave him time to process this: one more burst of light that sent her own heat back into troublesome territory raked across his left side, and she saw her moment.

Striking a fellow Mechwarrior while he's down is hardly forbidden under any code, though would [i]she[/i] so willingly do so?  After all, she was the honorable one here, even if her opponent was lower than human.  Maybe it was finally time to get that pistol duel she's always wanted out of an opponent.  In the end, she did not offer much in the realm of clemency beyond a brief, calm advisory notice over loudspeaker,

[color=SteelBlue]"Hunchback pilot, be a good man and DIE IN THE COCKPIT!"[/color]

and the compressing force of the [i]Ostroc's[/i] long leg into the same damaged torso.  It held the Hunchback down for a moment as it tried to right itself, crumpling the armor underneath.  Then, through her connecting lines to the machine's balance, she felt the sudden collapse of internal structure as the [i]Hunchback's[/i] chest cavity broke inward following a whine of bending steel..  A good portion of 60,000 kilos of weight went down on one point, and really...it was a quite rewarding feeling.  Worth it.  [color=SteelBlue]"He's broken,"[/color] she shouted as she her foot slid off the righting enemy, [color=SteelBlue]"Land a shot on that left flank!"[/color]