As always, Reyson tried to hide his fear of battle behind a relatively thin screen of indifference. Yet no amount of ignorance could distract him from the reality of his new situation. Within the cramped interior of the Hawthorne, there was only conflict. He could never understand why some openly desired, even going so far as to anticipate the battles they would fight. Were they so uncaring as to forget the value of their own lives? As usual, last to the mobile suit bay was none other than Reyson McGillis. The very face of the 'submissive' masses quick to forget about the valiant Principality of Zeon's struggles, had it not been for the rescue mission in Side 2 he would have still lived his fragile life. 

Freedom, Newtypes, Liberty, legacy...who cares? What good is all that when you were dead? Though afraid to voice his disdain for his squad commander, Reyson hastily slipped on his normal suit. To continue living in the Hawthorne you had to justify just why they had to feed your mouth. Too weak to handle heavy gear and too inexperienced to memorize an entire interface the choice was unanimous: pilot a Mobile Suit. To return now was to embrace death with open arms...but to stay within the Hawthorne was to sleep with one eye open in fear of the TITANS. Yet...what good was it all? What hope did they have to fight against an enemy as strong and expansive as they, yet remained vilified by the entire universe? What good was their valiant death? Were they always expected to fight at such unfavorable odds? What if...what he gets killed? What then...?

"Nghh..." The truth was that it [i]stung [/i]to be insulted as such, but Reyson tried his best to deal with his war-happy squad commander. The GM-2 'Chicken' was readied, where a quick layer of paint easily covered the blast marks from the previous sortie. He repeated mentally the procedures. Activate OS. Calibrate thrusters to align with the catapult settings. Initialize weapons systems. When the words 'ALL GREEN' was seen, he gripped the control interface well. 

Lacking in enthusiasm, it was clear just who wasn't fit to fight in the battlefield solely from the tone of his voice. "...Petty Officer McGillis. Ready to launch..."As best he could he tried to hide his anxiety and reluctance, knowing well such timidity would displease Officer Tanzi. Reassuring himself that the odds were nowhere near as bad as it seemed, even though he broke out in cold sweat he held his maneuver controller steady.