"Nurse Micheal, I just want you to know I sincerely 'preciate all ya do here.", Harry nodded to the short, muscular man who had helped him into his suit, receiving a halfhearted grunt in response, "I 'spose I should get to shippin' out, then. Wish me luck!"

The servos in Harry's armor buzzed as they flared to life, each movement carefully calibrated by electrical feedback from his own systems, a second skin of steel that was his and his alone. He remembered the conversations he had; how he should have gone into R&D work, stayed out of the fighting, served his country some other way- it would never have worked. Without the living power plant that was Harry Abrams, his inventions were worthless. His armor alone was tailored to himself to the point that, even if someone did manage to develop a battery capable of powering it, the force of the servos and calibration of the wire system would rip a normal man's body apart- their body wouldn't be able to keep up. The near-perfect synchronization Harry had with his suit's motor was the only reason he hadn't sustained permanent, large-scale muscular and skeletal damage from using it. Besides, Harry Abrams had been out of action for too long; it was time to show old Uncle Sam what he could do.

He ate breakfast, checked his systems, cleaned Lucy, mounted Lucy, cleaned his AR-4, mounted his AR-4, checked that the safeties were on both, checked his ammunition bin, checked his kit, checked his suit's integrated tools, and left for the hangar. 

"Mornin' all.", he gave a quick salute as he stomped into the hangar, "Private Harry Abrams, reporting for duty!"