Erich waited until the medlab was deserted, then, moving as swiftly, and as carefully as his injured frame could manage, he stood up, and, letting the mobile IV unit act as a walking stick, he trundled over to the medical bay's computer, where he could log in and finally get ~some~ work done, as all the computers on the dropship were networked together, with different logins required to access different parts of the command and control structure. Sitting down in the rather comfortable seating that the doc's ass would normally be perched upon, the massive soldier pulled up the BDA listing for the prior combat.<br/><br/>Almost instantly, he winced, not due to the faded ache in his side, but due to the fact that, on top of the Battle Damage Assessment, was a clear, stark reminder of the more-than material losses the company had taken; with Yamina and Hiro's two light mechs taken out of action, and unable to be extracted, he hoped, very quietly, that the two had managed to escape before CCAF infantry had gotten to the downed Lights. Idly, he rubbed a scar on his left shoulder, remembering his own 'visit' to the Confederation during the Fourth Succession War, before shaking off the memories of his lancemates dying in their cockpits, fried by inferno missiles that had rained down on them in a nasty ambush.<br/><br/>Scrolling down the screen, his eyes flicked over the damage to the Surviving 'mechs, not at all surprised that his Machine had taken the worst punishment and still walked off of the field under its own power; between the underestimation of enemy strength and the reputation of the Awesome as a brutally vicious machine, he had, once again, absorbed far too much incoming fire to be comfortable. Alroy's Crab had taken a beating as well, with the worst damage being that lucky shot that had blown the 100-tonner's ammo bay out through its backside. On the bright side, the Crab's arm remained attached this time, so the Crab didn't have to pause to pick up its detached limb and scuttle off to avoid getting blown up. On the not-so-bright side, the damage was extensive, and Alroy really needed to be checked out due to the neurofeedback caused by the ammo explosion.<br/><br/>Idly humming to himself, he noticed that the vast majority of damage to the rest of the company was almost-entirely armour-related, though there was an addendum pointing out that one of the two aerospace fighters the Bastion held had been savaged during its attack run; seemed that the Cataphract, for all its relatively thin armour for being a 70-ton war machine was rather effective at putting up enough flak to tear hell out of avionics and control surfaces. Continuing to read, he smirked at the final tally. Even with the loss of two light mechs, and the feeling he had that the new Raven pilot wouldn't work out due to excessive nationalism, the company, even short three 'mechs, had utterly savaged the enemy forces. From what the Battleroms could confirm, Recon had harassed and mauled a lance of heavier, but slower machines, while knocking out citywide power and pulling off a successful museum heist. The Assault lance, for its part, had systematically destroyed over a Company of enemy 'mechs, in part due to the Capellan tendency to rush in piecemeal.<br/><br/>Turning off the BDA, he opened a file stored deep in the ship's command codes, locked with a code only a Lyran soldier would know. Muttering quietly to himself, his fingers danced over the keypad, letting him write in his personal datalog as much as he cared to put down on digital 'paper', as well as adding several icons to declare his killcount; Unlike most of the 'mechs in the bay below him, his Awesome remained with no kill counters visible, leaving the 'mech almost as much of a cipher as the man that piloted it. Finishing his journal entry, he logged off the terminal, and shut it down, essentially clearing all evidence of his doing work before he headed back to the medical bed, already trying to stave off boredom.