[center][h1][b]Jaromir Zhu[/b][/h1][/center]

Hamazasp's machine gun shots turned the jump troopers on Jaromir's Trenchbucket into bloody paste, and the ex-Capellan let out a sigh of relief. Alright, he wasn't giving that guy any shit again. That, and he really should look into trying to replace the SRM-2 on this thing with a pair of small lasers or something. Wasn't as if he was using the former much, if at all. 

[b][i]"Appreciate the save, Sulser. Drinks are on me when we get back."[/i][/b] 

Jaromir busied himself with raising his Trebuchet's arm to wipe the blood off the cockpit view as Alvin went on his little spiel, and he resisted the urge to sigh. 

[b][i]"Why don't we talk about this after we're out of the field? Not done until we're back in the DropShip."[/i][/b] Was the most polite way he could put it. Taking out a bunch of pirates in shitbox Mechs wasn't any indicator of future success. Considering most merc companies didn't last past the half year mark, one or two engagements meant nothing. Hell, one could argue that a few successful missions starting off caused a lot of mercs to get cocky and bite off more than they could chew with the next job, thinking they were the next Highlanders or Dragoons. 

[b][i]"Returning to position. Awaiting further orders, Boss."[/i][/b]