>>6327692>>6328831>>6328834Thoughts race through your head disorderly as in just a moment, you struggled with what to do with the near-certain killing hit to the station.
<span class="mu-i">Tackling it... Didn't guarantee it would actually switch its course.</span>
<span class="mu-i">The knives! In particular <span class="mu-s">the one in your GINN's hand</span>... But even if sharp enough to cleave and diverge the heavy thruster set from the rest of the body, <span class="mu-s">The reach will end up being an issue.</span></span>
And yet all of that went in a blink, <span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">as you pull your thrust full-speed ahead.</span></span>
You'd seen the moves... <span class="mu-i">And accounted so far for every little variation in them.</span>
"W-what the-?!" Miguel called out upon the comms "<span class="mu-i">Natural!</span> Get the hell away from-!" And with even that call-out.
You just reached forth towards the mobile suit, warnings blaring upon your cockpit at the sheer strain you're pushing your GINN into just to catch up to it.
Plates upon your left-ward arm falling off as you prepared to swing back, managing to catch closer and closer to the blue missile at just a scant reach-.
<span class="mu-i">And gritting your teeth as your GINN's legs sparks, blowing open in fuselage as the proximity to the sheer heat exhaust of the customized mercenary MS no doubt didn't help it</span>
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">You have one swing... And you have to make it count!</span></span>
>Roll 2d100 