"Copy that Max, Mhegan," Aren said quickly, chuckling as Sinatra's voice crooned from his speakers. "I get no kick from champagne," he sang into the comlink, deftly maneuvering around the shells that exploded in his path. "Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all. So tell me why it should be true, that I get a kick out of you," He glanced at the tactical readout on the screen to his left. "Hey Jal, get back to base, you're banged up and running low on ammo; we've got your back."<br/><br/>Sword flashing, Aren flicked a joystick, pulling another one back, and his mech spun, slicing clean through another attacking tank. "I've got the little guys under control, but my magnum and swords aren't gonna cut it against those heavies, and I don't have my heavy armor on, so a frontal assault is out for me. Max, can you do anything about those big fellas? Try flanking them on the west side; I'll draw some fire off the cave so Jal can make a break for the base. Now Jalith, as soon as the shells stop falling, you gun it for the base. Don't wait, just go." His eyes flitted back and forth between the tactical screen and his view screens, his mind constantly analyzing.<br/>