<hr/><div class="floatright">(https://i.skyrock.net/6620/58276620/pics/2703883276_1.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nathaniel Jäger.  aka the Butcher<br/><strong>Vehicle:</strong>Manticore Tank "Jagermeister"<br/><strong>Location and time:</strong>Landing Zone<br/><strong>Warning:</strong>- Mild sexism and misogyny<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>All<br/><br/>"About the same way they handle being run over," the Butcher said.  He was in his war machine now; Nathaniel Jäger had been left outside.  "It pisses them off, unless you're above the fifty ton mark.  They're hopped up on stims,  so they don't feel pain.  The only way to stop them is to hit them, hard.  Treat them more like a swarm of light vehicles that infantry and you'll be fine.  Take them at range if you can, before they get the chance to latch on.  If you have to ram yourself up against a building or a tree to shake them loose, do it.  It will save you a whole lot of pain in the long run."<br/><br/>The Jagermeister was purring like a kitten, if that kitten was sixty tons of killing machine.  The interior smelled of stale sweat.  The Butcher and his tanks followed the mechs outside as the dropship's loadmaster offloaded the unit.  He reviewed the placement of the defensive units that would protect the dropship while the main unit was gone.  A fast light mech could cover the open space and be in firing range in half a minute but in that time the dropship and the other defenders would have ample time to react.  They were as secure as they were likely to be.<br/><br/>"Raiders, this is Butcher.  Time to put on your big girl panties, ladies and show me that you're worth what we're paying you.  Sound off with a status report."