Vanahara grunted in response to the offered ladder, wedging her feet in and buckling her belt to an exposed bar. She was already where she needed to be—it would be inefficient to move away now. 

"Hydromancers could move it—chuck it over the railing, get it off the ship," she said shortly, carefully maneuvering her fingers between two snapped struts. "Pyro could melt it down, though. Depends on what you want."

There was a long beat of silence as her brow furrowed, coaxing the delicate shards back into a whole piece. Her bare fingertips traced the seam, making sure that it wouldn't fracture the instant she pulled away. It only took half her attention, though—the rest was building a mental image of the workings of the engine. Ironworker she may be, but Vana had a weakness for beautiful, complicated machines.

"I've never seen an engine like this," she said absently, glancing at the sergeant out of the corner of her eye. "The Academy doesn't keep many airships on hand." Her expression didn't change from her default seriousness, so the rare joke might easily slip by unnoticed.

Vana extracted her arm from the engine, turning to the sergeant and tilting her head to the side. "I can find the mages, bring them back here." She knew that people were sometimes...nervous, around mages. Not that they didn't have historical reasoning behind it, but, well...there was a reason the Academy existed.