<div class="floatright">(https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/378800000312843758/c3fc56b763c2610cc0e83100caa09f81.jpeg)</div>Brooklyn barked out<strong>"Roger that"</strong>on the comms as he maintained pace with the lieutenants Atlas.  Flicking on his AMS as well, he began to try and see if he could spot out any of the enemy vehicles.  Forced to rely more on sensors than his own eyes in order to place his shots as they moved, Brooklyn let instinct and combat experience take over, feeling himself distance away as he focused on the battle itself.  With a cold, analytical mind, he heard his AMS spit round after round as it shot down incoming missiles, easing the pressure off of the heavy lance.  Coolly, he aimed his gauss rifle, slowly squeezing the trigger and feeling the thump of recoil as it fired.  The shot dug a large channel beside a Harasser, throwing up clouds of ice and snow.  As it tried to move away, Brooklyn squeezed the trigger again and watched as the metal slug punched through the vehicle and cast virtual slag and snow around.  A third round reduced another Harasser to wrecked metal, but the fourth shot went wide as the vehicles began to pull away.<br/><br/><strong>"Sir, any shots I make now would be a waste,"</strong>Brooklyn reported.<strong>"I think they're peeling away to the city."</strong><br/>Looking at his sensors, Brooklyn was almost positive that was the case.<br/><strong>"With two AMS, we can weather any missile barrages they have sir.  However, we may be moving into a reinforced positions.  Given that we still haven't confirmed any mech presence, a likely scenario is them already being bunkered down.  Your orders sir?"</strong>