[color=lightblue]"I have to entertain myself somehow Sab, seeing how high of a debt you can build up certainly applies."[/color] At the mention of Sabine's last ration pack being with hungry hungry Constellation defeated any hope of claiming a pack of smokes from them a lost cause, and he dismissed it from his mind. Fortunately the medipen was used to alleviate the worst of the burn, though at the comment on being a stick in the mud he shrugged, almost idly, replying in kind. [color=lightblue]"If having an appropriate outlook in the situation is a stick in the mud, we can call it that, sure."[/color] Howe felt like something was off about Selene, watching her and Sabine go back and forth in regards to one night stands and crashing house parties. Neither of which were exactly familiarities to him, he preferred his funds go to drinking and not alimony, even with a certain pilot often footing the bills for the nights out. Especially, if he was being blunt, but that would be something to consider the next time shore leave was granted for drinking to the latest victory or defeat. Or he'd finally a fight that would leave him dead and it would all very suddenly not be his problem, not that he was about to go wandering the city waving a big 'shoot me' sign quite yet.

Hungry hungry Constellation introduced herself as Rudis, Howe immediately blanking on the name actually behind the callsign, he might remember it if they both got out of this alive. The remark on gifts got a cocked eyebrow from the pilot, wondering if this particular batch of Constellations had some fixation on gifts or it was a social expectation he had failed to clue in on this whole time. No, someone would have told him off by now if he was supposed to have a gift shop in Vickie, he had space in the co-pilot module half the time he could theoretically install one there. Assuming there was some tactical advantage to peddling cheap souvenirs to the Aberrant. [color=lightblue]"If I knew we needed to hand out gifts I'd have installed a gift shop. I'd wager anyone here is plenty bold, given no one is arguing about the impending death or glory thunder run on the Princess."[/color]

It turned out their illustrious leader had managed to secure a diversionary attack, powers that be be damned, and at the news of that Howe mounted up, clambering up to Vickie's cockpit while making an offhand remark. [color=lightblue]"Co-pilot's seat is open for the first Constellation to get up there if they want to hitch a ride before we make contact."[/color] Settling into the Frame, Howe had a moment's privacy, brief as it might be, to settle in with a low sigh. The cockpit was, to the eyes of many who peeked inside, heavily industrial. Brose Arsenal tradition, its a lot harder to break a heavy duty lever or switch panel than it was a fancy electronic touch screen. Most everything had several levels of redundancy, though she lacked the customization one might expect from a seasoned pilot. The only thing out of place was a coin on a string, a challenge coin from the last regiment to make it off New Alexandria, tied to the cover that protected the charges that would launch the cockpit, and co-pilot module if it was still attached, out the back of the Frame to relative safety. Or straight into an Aberrant's waiting maw, more likely, but Howe had tied that challenge coin to the cover for one simple reason. A constant reminder that you couldn't just punch out and flee your problems, that was how you got situations like New Alexandria. Having spent enough time, few as the seconds were, reminiscing on the challenge coin Howe brought Vickie from stand by to fully online. About time they got to give the Aberrant a bloody nose again.

[hr]

The order to move out as the incoming barrage was intercepted and worked as a distraction was a welcome one, Howe moving himself to the lead of the pilots currently present. He had the armor and kit to make first contact with any non barrier threat, the clicking of the 20mm sweeping back and forth barely audible over the heavy, thoroughly unsubtle footfalls of the Frame as it moved forward, Howe scanning for contacts alongside everyone else that was operating as part of the task force moving in on the Princess. It was surprising how long it took to actually make contact with the Aberrant forces, nearly an hour by his estimate, but once the order came down to engage, Howe grinned to himself as he pressed forward, 20mm autocannon already opening up in a steady barrage of rounds being sent down into the incoming Legionairres. Howe positioned himself at the fore of the group, providing an anchoring point of the firing line. Close quarters weaponry, up armored, and more than willing to take a few hits for the other pilots, constellations, and infantry meant that was the best place for him. Picking his masses of Legionnaires carefully, he would fire off the Shotgun carefully, maximizing as much of the damage he could do with each shot as possible.

[color=lightblue]"Rabbit, your on AA duty, clear the skies! Damaged Frame, on me, cover my flanks and use me for cover. We're on infantry support."[/color] Howe spoke with a calm tone of voice, though he caught himself smiling as he brought the arm of his frame up, taking the worst of a strafing run by the Jetsam on the thickest of the additional armor, watching the indications show no damage he had to concern himself with. Nothing critical, and he maneuvered Vickie to better support the infantry, ammo feed on the 20mm steadily ticking downwards while he put the shotgun to good use, scything through ranks of the Legionnaires with each blast. Spying an opportunity, he disabled a safety measure on the shotgun and began slam firing, sweeping the shotgun back and forth across the incoming Legionnaires with precise motions. He aimed to maximize the damage he could do in the shortest span possible, 20mm making up for the minor gaps left by each blast of his shotgun that prevented overlapping buckshot.

Howe watched from the corner of his eyes as the power levels on Vickie's reactor surged to meet demand, a song in her own right, a voice long forgotten by the use of Aberrant Cores in everything. The roaring 20mm interrupted by the sheer booming volume of the shotgun announced to the infantry that Mech support had been able to peel off and reinforce their line. In the thickest part of the battle line was where Howe loved to be, and it was where Dunkirk would be easiest to see. Reaching down, an automated mechanism clunked loudly, detaching one of the several Frame sized Fragmentation Grenades the CQB package came equipped with. Now was a perfect time to introduce the Aberrant to an old trick. Rearing an arm back, the rhythmic thumping of the shotgun paused long enough for the grenade to be hurled towards the center of the swarm, far enough away to keep the infantry out of the fragmentation zone but well enough in the middle to maximize damage. If they got too close, or the firefight ran long enough to run low on shotgun ammo, the reinforced manipulators would work wonders making the Legionnaires pay dearly for every one of their lives. Assuming they could muster enough Aberrant carcasses to earn them, which remained to be seen.