[center][h1][color=teal]Agatha Smith[/color][/h1][b]Hangar, New Anchorage[/b][/center] [hr] An excited thrill shot up Agatha's spine as she watched Stein take to climbing the clunker NC like an ape to the jungle. It seemed to her that Stein was itching to get to work, a sentiment that was most certainly shared between the two. Her mind was already working out the best course up the mech. Opting to take a different course than that of the Ace, Agatha moved to stand behind the NC's opposite leg. .[color=teal] "You know, I think I've scrapped a few of these over the years."[/color] She snickered while rolling her shoulders to try and ease the kinks in her back from the long train ride over. Unlike Stein, she didn't benefit from having recently completed a heady workout session, but that wouldn't stop Agatha from performing such a banal task. Capitalizing on years of experience and having an extra inch over Stein in the height department, Agatha crouched and leapt for the joint in the NC's leg. There really wasn't a need for conscious thought in her ascent. While she only had about fourteen years of experience under her belt in combat, which she was concerned for how the others would take that news, she hadn't stopped [i]operating[/i] her NC one bit over the course of her retirement. Given that the Charon stood proudly at thirteen meters tall from top to toe, she was confident she could have done this with her eyes closed. Having pulled herself onto the joint she found there was enough room to rise to her feet and shimmy up the leg strut till she could reach the cannon affixed opposite the machine gun Stein had traversed. The differences in their methodology for scaling the NC was apparent to the aged pilot. Stein had the edge in acrobatics and likely endurance as well. Oh, Agatha could probably outrun Commander Graham, knowing his lungs would give out long before hers, but Stein probably took just as much care of her body as Agatha did at her age and was bolstered by being in the prime of her life. Still, while Agatha wasn't an equal in endurance, she compensated with experience and bursts of energy. Pulling herself up onto the cannon, she smoothly rose to her feet, finding an easy balance atop the rounded barrel. A short hop brought her to the sloped top of head of the NC. Walking around the seated Ace she knelt beside the manual release hatch and forced it back into the default position, sealing the cockpit once more. Agatha sat down with her back to Stein, though not being so forward as to lean against her. [color=teal]"Hmm, that felt closer to eight minutes than seven. Mind if I ask you time my next run? It's a bit of a pain keeping track of time while I climb, and I'm not quitting until I can do this with one hand tied behind my back."[/color] Who knows when you had to scale your NC with a broken arm? Or firing your sidearm at an invading force? Or carrying a wounded comrade? [color=teal][i]Victory favores the prepared, and survival favores the victorious.[/i][/color] Her voice turned teasing as she glanced back over her shoulder. [color=teal] "Unless you are giving up for the day after just one climb?"[/color]