Gregory had been up for some time. It wasn't that he hadn't slept, he just didn't sleep much. He was already tired, but he managed to stay awake by staying busy. It wasn't hard to find something to do aboard the UNFAC Terra which Gregory, in his more numb state of mind, was thankful for. His current task was general maintenance of his tank, the Fortress of Arrogance. Gregory did everything in his power to keep the tank running at optimal condition. This was where having a cybernetic arm actually came in rather handy, as the extra strength allowed him to perform tasks that usually required several engineers by himself. The interior of the Fortress of Arrogance was really quite cramped and there was barely enough for one man to squeeze into. Thankfully, Gregory had grown rather used to this task and felt right at home enclosed in the cramped quarters of the tank.

A crew would have never fit into the machine, though this was an intentional design choice. Gregory had specifically requested that the free space inside the tank be kept to the barest minimum needed for maintenance so that extra armor could be added. The battlefield was changing once again, and Gregory had seen firsthand how this change could prove to be both a huge shift in military tactics and a huge disaster if even the tiniest of things was miscalculated or went wrong. Gregory once more found himself drifting back to the day where he hopped into the cockpit of the prototype Valkinai suit. Everything was said to be in perfect running condition, and all readings were green across the board.

It should have been a flawless performance. Gregory had spent the past week in a simulator running through the test that he was going to take the suit through. But as he began to boot up the actual suit, he knew that something was wrong. The moment he pressed the main ignition button, the suit briefly flickered to life and began to rise into combat position, but the moment the weapons came online the suits energy core sputtered and failed, causing the suit to go limp. Gregory tried to bail out of the suit, but the traditional ejection systems had been forgone because the armor was too thick to reliably jettison. He couldn't get the suit open from the inside, and was trapped. Engineers were rushing to pull the core before it was too late, but the system kept offering a handshake to start the core and initiate boot sequences. Inevitably, it was able to start the core back up again. Briefly. The core had breached it's safety shielding, causing an automatic shutdown. The core starting up again caused the temperature to sharply rise and the core detonated catastrophically.

Everything past that went blank, and Gregory snapped back to reality. He found himself staring at his cybernetic hand. The metal unfeeling, but durable and strong. Just like the Fortress of Arrogance. Muttering to himself to let go of the past, Gregory returned to work on the Fortress of Arrogance. All of the shells passed his safety inspection, and the automated systems were in perfect condition. Gregory pinged Ba'al for a status report and all the readings were green across the board. Worming his way out of the tank, Gregory closed the single maintenance hatch and stood behind the tank. He pinged Ba'al again and told the AI to run a program known to the two of them as the "Spinup program."

Receiving a compliance ping from Ba'al, Gregory watched as the engine of the tank started, and heard several clicks and thumps as the various machine guns, autocannons, and the hull mounted siege cannon and the main gun were loaded. The tank scooted forward slightly, then back, and the various guns swiveled along their various mounts. The turret of the tank swung a complete three hundred and sixty degrees and returned to it's resting position. Nodding his approval, Gregory gave the shutdown order and Ba'al shut the tank off after unloading all of the various weapons that had been previously loaded as part of the spinup test. Once everything was back to how it had been a few moments ago, Gregory nodded and sent Ba'al into idle. Placing his tools back onto a nearby workbench, Gregory placed his mechanical arm into the socket of his mechanical claw, and winced slightly at the jolt that signaled it's attachment. Standing upright, Gregory hefted the weapon and opened and closed the claws. Nodding his approval, Gregory walked out to the front of the tank, possibly into the sight of Kevin, and the turned to walk to the mess hall aboard the ship. He would speak if spoken to, but didn't really care to initiate chatter.

Should Gregory be uninterrupted, he would reach the mess hall shortly after leaving the hanger due to walking at a brisk pace. Once there, he would place an order for a steak, salad, and extremely sweet tea. This would seem odd to most people, but in order to keep his arm running well Gregory needed to maintain a good muscle tone, which the steak helped with, and he also had to keep a good flow of antioxidants and sugar to both power the machinery and keep his blood clean, which the salad and tea provided. After being given his food, Gregory would thank the staff there, and promptly sit alone to eat. He balanced his claw on it's fingertips while he ate, in order to keep it out of the way.