The night went by quietly, at least for Alexander. The others, they got loud and proud with the help of alcohol, but the big man left the moment whiskey and beer began to flow. He wasn't a peaceful drunk, and he didn't feel like hurting one of them if his temper got out of control. Or them hurting him, for that matter. Nor did he trust what he might yell out in a drunken fit. And, on top of all of that, he still didn't really like them. He was not their friend, nor were they his. He trusted them all with his life, bar perhaps one or two, but he wouldn't be able to call any a friend.

He woke early in the morning, and eased out while the others were still in their liquor induced comas. He entered the training room, took off his shirt, and began to beat on one of the punching bags. Light jabs, a few harder punches, but nothing serious. Testing out the new arm. Wouldn't ever be able to call it his arm again, not for a while at least. Might be the same, just with some added wires and metal, but it may as well been a foreign object on his arm.

This kept up for an hour, at least, when a man came in looking for him. He was called to the briefing room for a mission that had just come up. Alexander merely grunted, through one last, hard, punch at the bag. There was a ripping sound, then the screech of metal as the thin chains that held it up snapped. He doubled back, and the bag fell on the floor, leaking sand like blood. His eyes turned down to his bloody knuckles. He hadn't expected too much more strength out of his upgrades, but this was more than he had asked for. Would have to get the other arm upgraded to even it out. He hated relying on just one arm, especially in a fight.

When he entered the briefing room, just moments after the others had arrived, he was topless, shoeless, and covered in sweat. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, and merely stared evenly at the base commander while they were given orders. Once that was completed, he headed out in front of the others to go prepare his equipment.

---

The Bear remained silent in the vertibird, carefully running a rag up and down the side of his gatling laser. A habit he'd formed, polishing it before use. His black armor had a few new splashes of white across it, in a sort of camouflage pattern. The black would still give him away, but he liked it. He'd be impossible to hide from enemies, just how he liked it.

Thunder remained quiet as well, keeping a respectful tone any time he was required to speak. And even then, he only spoke to Andrew. The others might had well not existed, for all he acknowledged them. When the virtibird landed, Bear was the last off and Lucius was quick to take the plane elsewhere. Bear went off as Lucy, as he was ordered to, keeping just behind her, weapon out and level. The tiny camera on the side of the his helmet recorded every sight and sound around him. Just as Dimitri liked.

When Archangel ordered him to stop, something in side of him twisted in annoyance. Possibly anger. Rather than listen like a sensible person might, he took a few extra steps forward down the tunnel, then paused and listened in on the after battle report. Before he could say anything, Thunder chimed in with that metallic voice of his, saying, “If it is possible, try not to destroy them too much. I'm sure the Professor would love to get his hands on some in tact robots.” Bear merely grunted over the comm, then continued on, this time a few steps ahead of Archangel.

His trigger finger itched. There was something definitely wrong here, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was. He would simply have to wait and see what became of this mess.