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Well, that had been wonderfully exciting. A few Locusts and some worthless ground vehicles, some pain in the ass VTOLs and big mean Hunchback all thrown together in a big ugly mess of a battle, metal and lasers and fire chewing up the scenery so that the desolate moon was in even worse shape than it was upon their arrival. There was a hole in the Dragon's leg which the neurohelm was kindly reminding her of by giving her a vicious migraine, but hey she was still alive!

That was more than could be said of the poor morons Overkill was trying to turn to paste. 

There was some sort of annoying buzz coming through the comms, the damage that caused it somehow not coming up on any readout. Fuka was about to raise her voice in concern before she realized it wasn't neurological damage from the helmet but just Alvin running his stupid mouth for the sake of listening to his drool splatter about the cockpit. Why he felt the need to yammer about an unrelated company on an unrelated mission in circumstances that didn't match any of theirs, Fuka couldn't say. All she could do was give an appreciative cough into the comms when Jaromir beat her to the punch, his gentle reminder to shut the fuck up much nicer than what she had been planning. 

[color=cadetblue]"I'm alive, but my right leg's still busted; I'm not going anywhere with any speed."[/color]

She was just grateful it hadn't been the cockpit; she refused to die before the slave. 

[color=cadetblue]"Not sure if you want me at the front still in this shape, but I can manage if needed.[/color]