Mike was calmly and methodically firing on the enemy, watching the red lines ark into the group*
"Nawlin, move up to close range. I'll provide covering fire".
Blade crackled though his helmet. A trouble makers grin split mike face under its composite mask.
"Aye sir, moving in to skirmish distance" he replied, prowler standing to fire a cluster of shots before backing behind the hill and cutting left. behind the tree line prowler wove between the stand of scrub pines before hooking its right arm around a particularly robust specimen, looping around and using the momentum from the turn, to propel him over the hill at speed. he had briefly scouted this position on his way in, and saw the light screen of trees as an exit, but not the best, but in this case it would do.
"Raisa here. I've eliminated most threats at the rear of the convoy, but an APC has me pinned down. Requesting assistance."
mike listened and made a snap decision, playing safe hadn't really faired well for him, he was ordered to close in, but as long as he did that, his location shouldn't matter to much. making a small alteration to his plan he Urged the lumbering hulk into a full sprint, using all the momentum gained from the swing.
"Nawlin here, i'm on my way Raisa, watch your head down there" he said as he and prowler crashed through the foliage, his grin fluctuating from mischievous, to uncertain. "well, Fortune favors the brave" he muttered as he braced himself, prowler following suit, raising its armored forearms to block the vulnerable sensors embedded in its head. "ladies and gentlemen keep hands and feet inside the ride at all times while in motion!" mike cried temporarily drunk on the rush of his own stupidity as the jumpjets flared into violent life.
Prowler flew over the trees as mike whooped, hastily working with the computer systems to keep the Gear stable in its short moments of flight. thankfully all the momentum from the lead up sprint had carried him close to his opponent, unfortunately that meant he was going quite faster then he planned. tapping franticly mike pulsed the jets to slow the impact velocity of the massive machine. Adopting a crash position mike stopped fighting the controls and forced himself to relax, trusting in the computer and impact harness to take over.
Touchdown was rough, but recoverable. after skimming the earth on jumpjets, prowlers feet plowed large furrows into the dirt before pitching into a forward roll, ready for disaster, mike steered the roll to send prowler sprawling into a ditch. "Nawlin here, ready to...assist and engage" he grunted, stowing the rifle and equipping his shotgun as spectral versions of enemy fire played over his screen.