While to gloryhounds being asked to remain at the rear was nothing short of an insult, but such commands were a godsend for him. "U-Understood, Lieutenant." He stated, lacking any backbone as he slowed the cruise speed of his Mobile Suit. Unlike many others from the Quintzem squadron Reyson liberally depended on the guide assistance program onboard the GM II Custom, leaving little wonder why he had an atrocious weapon accuracy rating. Keeping a close eye on the TITANS formation Reyson held his beam rifle forward, keeping the machine gun close at hand. 

Tense and utterly stationary, the confinement of the cockpit unnerved the spacenoid greatly. Camilla charged in recklessly, much like all the other war-hungry members of the squad. "I...I can do this...I can do it..." He tried to aim, his hands a little unstable as he fired a shot. "W-wah!" He cried out in surprise, the projectile definitely missing by a wide margin.Of course, the shot missed, but was quite close to where Camilla was flying to. "S-sorry!" He apologized, trying to steady his aim.

His palms sweating, knees weak and his arms heavy, he tried to focus and lead the break-away units, keeping a close eye on whichever may come and assault the Hawthorne directly...