Alastair gripped the controls tightly as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell of oil, the humidity of the cockpit, this distant hissing of steam acting on a actuator. It was all so familiar to him. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Focus on the fight. He didn't need his mind wondering back home. Back to her. Then he realized something that he should have a long time ago: He now had something to fight for. He had a reason to stay alive. He opened his eyes and stomped the pedal with his right foot and his Rüstung moaned demonically as it started to jerk and lurch forward. One last fight. One last victory.