<div style="text-align: left;">(http://i77.photobucket.com/albums/j77/wulfjaeger/c0a1bf1a-e351-4fb9-b9ce-565c7c010059_zps8873b314.jpg)</div><strong>Mech:</strong>HCT-6D Hatchetman<br/><strong>Callsign:</strong>Harlequin<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Outreach/Dragoon Tower<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Erich<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Ranna passed through the gates as she had so many times in the past with little emotion or fanfare.  She had grown up as a part of the Dragoons and never really saw the reverence that other mechwarriors feel when they enter the exalted halls.  While she missed her life here, she had her reasons for leaving and having sworn many years ago never to carry regrets, she walked along feeling righteous about her decision.<br/><br/>She was surprised to find Anton standing in the small conference room when they entered.  She had never expected him to be the public face of the Dragoons for a negotiation of this sort.  The choice put her on edge almost immediately.  She knew his smile well, the kind that he used interchangeably in both political discussions and discussions with women at bars.  The kind of smile that can charm a stranger but makes those who know him shudder in disgust.<em>"Ranna, what a pleasant surprise. I hope mercenary life is treating you well.  Commander Oststein I presume. An honor, I had the pleasure of reading up on you before this meeting, color me impressed. Have a seat, order a drink or some food, it will arrive shortly..."</em><br/><br/>"It's good to see you Anton."  She said with little a familiar half friendly tone as she took a chair at the other side of the table in her usual manner, leaned back in her chair, she carefully eyed Anton with an emotionless smirk as she watched him almost with disinterest.  Deep down inside she was watching him for his normal tells.  She had played many hours of poker with the man and knew where his weaknesses were.  She was glad that Erich had insisted she join him, while Anton was a political animal, he wasn't as good of a mechwarrior and she'd always been able to out bluff him.  She watched intently, listening.<br/><br/><em>""Water, please. As for what I bring to the Negotiation table, battlefield salvage of advanced combat armour, for infantry, that can laugh off a PPC shot. This includes several tons worth of salvageable battle armour pieces, including at least one working weapon, and schematics of said salvage.  Oh, I'm not lying when I say that it was tough enough to laugh off a PPC blast; I have the BattleROM to prove it."</em><br/><br/>"From what we've seen this new Clan battle armor is able to take a beating.  Enough to swarm an enemy mech and tear it down in a few minutes.  Their fast and mobile and unlike anything we've every seen before.  And they're going to provide a lot of problems for the house armies and mercs in the coming months if we don't figure out how to stop them.  I'm sure Jaime and the techs could replicate a working model from the salvage in less than a year."  Her smirk grew a bit on the edges, a reminder to Captain Anton Karnov that she still knew how things worked in the Dragoons and she was watching him.