The Eagle cast a subtle but knowing glance through space at Guillotine’s Marauder. It was clear through the attempted but absent response he had given her that her actions had upset him to some extent. But she did what she had to do. There were only two types of people in wars: the living and the dead. From her perspective, there were further friendlies and targets. And which ever an individual was at any given moment was not considerate of what they did outside of the battlefield. Any life could be extinguished in an instant. The lives of good people and bad, of people who were loved and hated. The death of Tori painfully reminded her of that.

Tori...

She began letting out a synthetic growl, low and distorted, and not given to the illusion of humanity that her previous vocal monotony produced. The growl indicated that an anger was growing inside her, as it often did. This was not something she willed, nor could she even control. The smallest mistakes could quickly frustrate her, and sometimes emotions like grief would be expressed through anger. She didn’t like being angry, especially in battle, because it made her impulsive and do things she wouldn’t do with a clear mind.

After receiving new orders from Marquis and regrouping with Guillotine and Sokolov, Alice couldn’t help but watch with awe at the incredible sight of the wave motion gun firing. A beam of gleaming plasma pierced through space before finally impaling the Coalition destroyer, splitting it in two. The remaining halves didn’t survive long, both erupting in further explosions. Then it was done, the destroyer was, well, destroyed. Even Alice could understand and appreciate the irony in such an event. As the explosions subsided, her mind returned to the mission at hand.

The bomb team regrouped, and by now, Alice was getting fidgety. As her temper was kindled, she, for lack of a better word, began to itch for combat. Fighting was her catharsis, her way of releasing this anger. When she was like this, she became impatient. She began tapping the Eagle’s fingers against her rifle, a form of stimming that relieved her stress, if only for a short time. Eventually, before they could decide on a plan, Wes haphazardly sped into battle. She took this as a go ahead and did the same. However, her MAS was much more faster, and surged past him, ready to fight.

[hr] 

After finally calming down from her tantrum, Alice was becoming frustrated again. Not long after the bomb team destroyed the Coalition cruiser, they were being pulled back to the Lincoln. This order would mean abandoning the Ulysses and the many civilians on it, let alone their own soldiers. Such orders lacking even the most basic foresight from the UEE leadership that technically owned Alice, mind and body, baffled her. Even if she was just a tool to them, at least she was an effective tool. In the right hands she could do amazing things. Even in her own hands she might even be able to do more! But she didn’t seem to be in good hands, and that was the problem. If a solution existed to this problem, would it even be feasible?

Nevertheless, she had to obey orders. With the rest of the bomb team, she swiftly flew back to the Lincoln. Every once in a while, her thrusters sputtered slightly from the damage. By now, the Eagle was noticeably damaged, it’s formerly pristine ivory armor marred with the scars of war. Scorch and scratch marks covered the surface of the White Rabbit, almost to the point of the armor appearing black. But Alice still moved with a grace and care as she navigated the scattered debris of the cruiser following the charge’s detonation, as well as fire from the rest of the Coalition forces.

When they neared the hangar, Alice watched the remains of a Ferir drift away, disabled by Maki and Gerard. For a second, she raised her rifle to destroy it and kill the pilot within, before realizing she lacked enough ammo to finish them off. Even though she could not show mercy to her targets, she couldn’t be blamed for circumstances out of her control, right? Not everyone was as lucky as this pilot was, at least not for long.

Alongside the other pilots of the 7th, Alice expertly docked the machine back in the hanger. While the Eagle was clamped into place, Alice transferred herself back into her body. Letting out a small shudder, she began carefully stretching her body within the rather small space.

The embarrassment from her earlier tantrum remained. Gerard was correct, she needed to control her temper. But then again, some things are easier said than done. Now, she just needed to hope her engineers found out. They knew what was in her code, but they didn’t seem exactly detect the error that likely caused her temper. And unless they read her root code to a rubber duck, they wouldn’t find out any time soon. 

Pushing the thoughts out of her head and replacing them with excitement about William’s success on her first sortie, Alice began to exit her MAS. Creaking gently under the stress of the recent damages, the Eagle’s cockpit opened up, allowing her to crawl out. Once on the ground, she eagerly found her way to Ari, leaving the White Rabbit and its repair to her Engineers. Wes joined Alice, and a smile grew on her face as she met Ari. [color=7ea7d8]“Congratulations, Miss Williams! You performed excellently on your first mission!”[/color]

[color=662d91]"Of course it was him,"[/color] Wes replied to Gerard as he walked in besides Alice, a bit of a sneer on his face. [color=662d91]"What self preserving general [i]wouldn't[/i] throw away thousands of lives? And I don't care if he hears me saying this. I'm not some toe-twoed private. Its not like he can court martial us for hurting his feelings."[/color]