[color=crimson]"Contact, contact! Schmidt, punch it you lazy arse!"[/color]

With the roar of German engineering, Trottel takes off in a cloud of dust, pushing forwards and to the left of the main advance. 

[color=crimson]"Clear, clear, cl- CONTACT! 49 degrees, MG nest!"[/color]

[color=00a651]"Aye sir! Launcher firing!"[/color]

With twinned thumps, two 40 mm grenades go sailing through the window of the second story of a building on the road. The entrenched Dushka starts firing, before a flash of orange and a bang silence the gun.

[color=crimson]"Confirmed, nest cleared. Keep us rolling, we need to get far enough behind their line to see their artillery before our allies commit to the urban trenches."[/color]

[color=f7941d]"Yea, yea. Speaking of, I got some dust ahead, about 020."[/color]

[color=00a651]"I see it. Definitely enemy armor... has the silhouette of a BMP."[/color]

[color=crimson]"Kill that thing before we figure out the hard way it's a BMP-2."[/color]

[color=00a651]"Yes sir! Firing!"[/color]

The main gun speaks once, twice, thrice. The first round lands low, the second ricocheting off the angled front. The third round, however, slams home in the side of the vehicle, and the rotating turret stops abruptly. Smoke wafts from the penetration, and the machine starts to back up, away from it's semi-entrenched position.

[color=crimson]". . . Damn, you got the turret compartment. Call that a mission kill, because the gunner and commander are probably mincemeat, along with the gun controls. Keep rolling, and get the big guns on net. We're all but through. Ay, Archangel, you listening?"[/color]

[color=662d91]"Yes sir!"[/color]

[color=crimson]"Get your eyes ready, we're stopping soon so you can launch them."[/color]

[color=662d91]"Yes sir."[/color]

Inside the somewhat cramped crew compartment, Gabriel Converse, nickname Archangel, climbs over another soldier's knees while opening up the drone compartment. He pulls out an FPV drone, and a command headset, before shutting the door with a kick. He hunches over, and grabs a rail next to the back door. With a violent forward jerk, Achtung Trottel slides to a stop, and the rear gate opens about 1/4 of the way. Archangel uncerimonously chucks the drone out of the opening, before ripping the joysticks on the controller upwards. Outside, the drone barely misses the ground, flying up and into the air.

[color=662d91]"Drone active, sir! Feed is good, and no immideate targets in sight."[/color]

[color=crimson]"Lovely. Schmidt? Punch it."[/color]

Hydraulics hiss as the gate closes again, and Trottel continues it's dash towards the backlines.

[color=crimson]"Alright, slow us down. Don't want to have a dust storm around us, only a little plume."[/color]

[color=662d91]"First confirmed sighting... towed howitzer. Looks like a 2A18M. [/color]

[color=crimson]"Designate it. Calling up our big friends now."[/color]

[hr]

[color=crimson]"Ironhide, this is Trottel. Adjust Fire. Grid 439, 445. One towed howitzer, in open entrenchments. Over."[/color]

[hr]

[color=crimson]"Aight, hold on to something!"[/color]