Location: Near the Temple
Objective: Take the Temple, try not to poodoo pants
Allies: The Galactic Republic
Enemies: Private Rose
Weapon fire erupted all around, but the tank chugged onwards. The repeater blasters sporadically opened fire here and there on the Sith troops, but the cannon remained quiet for the most part. It had only fired once and that had been mainly because Wiittah had sneezed while bouncing around excitedly. The shot had taken out a cluster of Sith soldiers, but Di was still not too happy about it.
"Wiittah, you gotta be more careful, man," he said, using his hands to gesticulate. "You gotta calm down, man. What would you have done if you'd accidentally hit our guys, huh?"
The Jawa simply chattered off a response as it peered through the gunner's scope, searching for targets. Down near the shells, the two Ugnaught brothers seemed to be bickering again, albeit quietly. Di listened to his gunner's response and cocked an eyebrow.
"Look for raw materials later? Nah, man, you can't be doin' that one. We can get stuff off the Sith later, but please don't shoot our guys on accident... or 'accident'. The CO ain't buyin' the misfire story anymore, man."
Before he could continue, a startled shout from Yahraar brought everyone's eyes to their scopes. A puff of smoke from a window denoted a rocket fired. Yahraar yanked the controls, but with a rocket's speed it was little use. A combined scream erupted from the entire crew, making a cacophony of 'AAHHHHH' noises and a pair of piglike squeals that filled the crew compartment.
The rocket impacted the tank dead center on the hull, right beside the driver's viewport. Di heard the massive CLANG of the thing hitting... but there was no FWAKOOM! No immediate hole in the tank. No flames or smoke floating through the compartment.
Di patted himself down, making sure he was still intact. For a moment, he thought he was dead and didn't know it, but a few seconds of checking himself over told him he wasn't. That, and the spattering of small arms fire hitting the tank here and there told him he was still in a warzone.
He risked popping the hatch and stuck his head and shoulders out to look at the damage. There was a visible dent and scrape on the front armor, but no scorch marks or burns. Di quickly pulled himself back inside the tank and sealed the hatch. He sat for a moment in his chair quietly before speaking.
"We got hit," he started slowly. "... By a dud missile..."
A visible sigh of relief was heard through the entire compartment. Di basked in the feeling for a second or two before asking the question they all wanted to ask.
"So..." he said with slight hesitation. "Anyone else soil themselves?"
Three hands and a fuzzy paw raised in response.
Edited by Di Mancini, 22 September 2014 - 12:23 PM.