<div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"All pilots, we have a code blue; repeat we have a code blue, enemy mechs approaching from the south. Shiz and the newbie are out running a training exercise in the vicinity, but they're gonna need some help. I'm inputting the coordinates best suited for intervention into your nav systems. Repeat, all pilots report to coordinates, must aid Shiz and the newbie."<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Max groans, "Ah, you gotta be ssshittin' me. Gotta be a drill. Two fights in a row? Fuck that. Nobody's dumb enough to attack us. Ain't that right, Flufz?" Max pets a nonexistent cat on his shoulder, then rolls over and goes back to sleep.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Max, Mhegan, Leona, status report,"<br/></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>"..."<br/><br/>"FUCK!"<br/><br/>Engel rolls off his cot and slaps against the cold tile, the impact doing little to clear his head.<br/><br/>"Berzerk!" He roars, keying his mic, "All systems on-line, prep for immediate launch, I want green light five minutes ago! Boss! We got... Shit." Max switches channels to squad frequency, then starts unscrewing his frontmost liberty spike "Boss, I'm on my way but we got a problem. I'm still 'medicated' from da last fight... I'm seein' at least two o' everythin' right now."<br/><br/>As if to prove his point, Max, who has been leaning steadily to the left while sprinting down the hallways, picks that exact moment to have his feet slide out from under him and faceplant on the floor, narrowly avoiding impalement on the recently removed bit of pointy metal. He roars a stream of expletives into the mic and struggles to his feet, running toward the hangar with one shoulder firmly against a wall. He only falls down twice more on the way to the mech bay, though he's fairly certain the second breaks his nose. Finally, even later than he normally is and with a trail of red metal spikes leading to his room, he clambers into the cockpit and sinks into his seat. "Hope ya ready f' this, 'Zerk, cuz i sure as Hell ain't. Let's ride!" He manages to plug in after two or three tries and brings the heavy mech to life. Moments later he's barreling over rough terrain at full stride, inboard stabilisers and gyros struggling to compensate for his own lack of balance.<br/><br/>Taking deep breaths as he goes, Max fumbles about until he finds the jack at his hip and plugs it in to his mech with a grin. A split second later all the ambient noise of a sprinting mech is blown away by an onslaught of heavily distorted riffs and incomprehensible growling. "'Eeeeere we go. 'Ats betta.' He twitches his throat mic back on and cackles gleefully, "M1 Gunslinga', inbound ta received coordinates now. Watch ya backs, team, I ain't shootin' straight t'day!"