Catherine was near her own mech, adding two small white silhouettes of the Stronsays she shot down just behind the front hatch, where it would be visible to anyone near the mech but not provide a convenient sniping mark. She, like pretty much everyone else in half the hanger, couldn't help hearing the growing argument taking place over by the sergeant's mech, and she glanced up to see the sergeant storming off as the kid kept up the argument with the private. "Discipline's going to the dogs, it seems," she murmured. As Private Mccray's voice rose, self-righteous as only a child absolutely convinced she was right could be, she thought to herself, Just glad I'm not in Fire Team Beta. She might have helped me line up the shot on Zebra, but she almost got herself killed in the process. We'll see if the kid can kick her arse in gear, or if Beta is going to end the next mission a pilot short
That said, there was her own fire team to consider. By some fluke, her own mech had taken no damage at all in spite of her position on the front lines, but Groundpounder was the only mech in Alpha that had come out with nary a scratch. The worst-off of the lot was Excelsior, after Haedron had slightly misjudged the effective range of the enemy artillery, but he'd acquitted himself well after that miscalculation. Perhaps a trifle over-enthusiastically, given the damage his mech had taken, but he'd come out in one piece. They'd come out a bit battered, but definitely no worse for the wear. Fire Team Alpha, it seemed, might work out just fine, and for the first time, she started to feel slightly better about being reassigned to the 25th.