[hr][center][h1][color=f7941d]Port-1[/color][/h1][color=f26522][h3]Hangar[/h3][/color]
[color=7ea7d8]Hanson Seuclid[/color][/center]
[hr]

Hanson was grumbling to himself as he checked his suit over before floating off for a set of maintenance gear and returned to his suit for some minor adjustments. Some bolts here, a missed scratch from debris there. Fighting in the debris belt meant small dings and marks where bits of metal clashed against the suit or were tossed away from a collision somewhere inside the belt. Better than being hit by the occasional explosive left behind only to be discovered by a curious pilot. Hanson let out a sigh in how decimated the area around the Earth had become since the glory days of the Titans. [color=7ea7d8][i]Maybe they'll set in motion some kind of clean up gig after this pissing match with the ground. Do something useful for the Earth for once.[/i][/color] He shook his head to the thought. In that shaking, he spotted the two pilots from the cafeteria floating through the catwalks towards the simulator pods. Most preferred to use the simulation program in their own suits, but the added effect of the simulator's servos and pistons helped hone the senses more.