[ti]Ep 3[/ti] Felix Felicis (Open)

[Starkrieger]

Episode 3 Week 3 Day 5
Late Evening 
Some Random Cavern out in the boonies just outside of 'Con territory'

Note: Anyone can join. Please comment in Plot channel that your character(s) will be slipping into the rotation.  Thank you.  

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In all the posts he'd served, the various squadron leaders he'd flown under, Krieg had become know for things. Well, alright, it depended on what he decided to do with himself if the Con commanding him was decent or a worthless hunk of scrap metal parading as leadership. Regardless, when he wasn't keeping his helm down waiting for idiots to destroy themselves, the Seeker liked to make himself useful in reminding the rank and file that there was more to function than just spilling energon over every inch of rock or plate they were fighting for.

He'd scouted out the location, a large cavern out in the sticks far enough from base they should be able to prevent a quick drop in by a disapproving officer. Remote to avoid the squishies, and accessible by ground for their flightless compatriots. There weren't roads, so it'd be rough going, but what was a mech to do? Thanks to Pipette's assistance, the two most important features, the drinks, and the coordinates had been secured. She'd also helped with the make shift lighting. It didn't have to be a full blown party, but drinking in the dark had too much of a 'trench warfare' vibe for the flier's liking. Natural ledges and interior rock formations would have to do for comfort. Emergency taste testing sessions of the newest bootlegged brew came at the expense of 'roughing it' a bit... At least until he figured out a way to get the higher ups on board.

Pings to personal comms already sent out, there were a few Cons personally selected by himself or Piper to receive individualized invitation. Others he'd heard about, or knew by reputation got a generic message, as well as randomly chosen comrades to fill the quota. A simple, humble tasting of some new high grade mix, nothing fancy, but of course, they weren't dissuading the addition whatever happened to show up. Sometimes the biggest hits at a gathering were the random novelties that were toted along. He'd had his fair share of luck at spontaneous games of chance that showed up at gatherings like this. Too bad Nemesis acquired him the way it had, bereft of any of his winnings.

Those that had arrived were mostly turned loose to do as they would, so long as they didn't attempt a heist of the goods. For his part, the Seeker had a cube in servo just barely sampled. Someone had to stay sharp, occasionally slip out to patrol. MECH was still a thing, and Krieg wasn't interested in those arriving solo getting snatched up. That would not work in their favor. His diligence would, no doubt, lax as the night progressed. For now though, he was making a point to remain somewhat coherent.

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Pipette referencing approved per River.  Thanks River <3

[Deleted]

One thing was for sure, the cloud-duster had had the right idea: after a trek like that ya all but needed a drink. Grounders would be swigging whatever brew he’d managed to get his claws on left right and center just to cool their lines after struggle-busing across rocky outcrops and valleys.

Not that Backwater considered herself much of a grounder- you had to have wheels to qualify there. She glided, flew even, when provided the right medium (though she was supremely glad she wasn’t actually a flier, primus- could you imagine? Pfft. Ridiculous). No. What she lacked in wheels she made up for with experience. The trek was straightforward if tedious, nothing she hadn’t done before and made easier by her earlier scouting and Bait’s insistence to slither on ahead. A quiet, self-indulging smirk split her lips- peak entertainment of the night would be seeing if any of the overcharged wheelies tumbled helm over aft down the cliffside, and she’d be lying if the very thought didn’t have her cackling in glee.

But alas, by the time she reached the cave mouth it was getting dark, and she took a moment to survey the mess she was about to get into before entering proper. Not bothering to dampen her step- Bait already had that covered, he was almost certainly in one of the back wall’s dark corners, observing as he did- the fan-boat femme rapped her knuckles against the rough stone of the cave’s mouth as she passed.

“Knock knock, I heard there’d be booze.”

She’d called in-place of a proper greeting. Starkrieger was the first and only one present she outright recognized, which, she supposed, was better than nothing. Backwater cast a quick glance about the room, noting anything that could be of interest. It wouldn’t do to get stuck if a brawl broke out- these things could get rowdy and depending on those involved, slipping away into the night could be the way to go.

“I didn’t bring anything, hope you weren’t expecting me to.” She added nonchalantly, almost in afterthought.

Backwater sauntered further in, pausing in front of the seeker at a distance that allowed her to look at Krieg’s face without breaking her neck doing so, one hand on her hip and fan blades sloping down her back in a relaxed curve. Her field, while not overtly assertive, was steadily thrumming with a wicked sense of excitement and perpetual contemptuous amusement, matching the sharp smirk still cutting her half-hidden expression.

“Hmm.” Making a show of looking about the mostly-empty space, BW hummed to ‘herself’. “What happened Twinkle-wings? I thought this was gonna be a party. Scene looks about as lively as the Rust Sea.”

[Pipette]

The liquid refreshment currently available for a limited time was not what Pipette had hoped to achieve in the days past. She had been hoping to concoct something of a much more pleasing nature. While high grade energon, refined, and distilled did provide a semblance of pleasure all it own, Pipette the chemist of renown, had been tirelessly toiling to enhance it in ways that would satisfy even the most demanding of towerlings. Each sip should have been an orgiastic symphony upon the taste buds, every sinful cube administering a divine balance of chemicals to set processor spinning up and spooling down, every drop to satiate the most grueling thirst so that none would desire too much and spoil the decadent experience. 

She had failed to achieve this dream in due time, severely. Divining the perfect chemicals, and their manufacture had currently eluded her but it was a challenge she would not abandon. With the deadline came and passed, her failure was personal, but not forever. There would be still more time for further research, and probably more social gatherings. All was far from lost and she would persist tomorrow. For now...   

Standing in a corner, slightly darker than the others, stood a very nervous femme. Her customary hood was retracted, her optic shields high on her forehead and facial vent filters drawn back. For just about everyone, this would be the first time anyone saw Pipette bared. She felt vulnerable, but such vulnerability was the point. To present herself and not shy away or hide behind her mask like always. Also she couldn't drink with mask in place. Again she took another sip from her cube, already half imbibed. She could feel the tickle in her systems from the circuit induction. It wasn't unwelcome, merley alien due to her lack of experience with partaking high grade fuel. She was nominally the supplier, not buyer afterall. Her guilty pleasures ran in another direction. 

Reluctantly as the host position dropped upon her demanded certain duties be dealt to, she walked past a stocked table and picked up a full cube. Pip then proceeded over to Backwater and offered the cube. "Your hearing was accurate." She said this with an awkward smile. There was an effort there to be friendly, an effort that needed further practise.  
"Thank you for coming. I am Pipette."

[Starkrieger]

Who had and had not arrived was only of marginal concern to the Seeker. There were a few he would have rather seen than not, and at least one mech he had a mind to leave a gift for if he couldn't attend. Starkrieger would definitely have to make it up to Pipette that she'd done the majority of the work for this venture, but he intended for it to pay off for his little chemist. If there was one thing his kind understood, it was the importance of networking.

A familiar set of vocals caught his attention, the flier's wings rising with his chassis as he derma quirked into a small sample of his typical smirk. Turning to face the boisterous femme, Krieg tipped his head to the side, gaze flitting towards those blades before returning to hers.

"The mere fact that you have graced us with your presence is more than I could have hoped for, m'lady." If there was a hint of his amusement in that tone, it was nothing compared to the way he offered a dramatic flourish to a bow in Backwater's direction. Seeker grace and superior spatial awareness shifted his wings to keep balance, while he minded his high grade's stability. He even held the position in exaggerated reverence. He indulged, knowing it would get him no where with a femme like Backwater... How she did remind him of someone else.

Twinkle-wings would have been derogatory from the wrong Con, and might have landed someone with a nasty surprise as to how capable he was in a scrape. She, however, didn't hit that way, instead invoking a fondness that was both new and nostalgic.

"Ah Pipchen", his chosen accent thickened with the pet name, as he slipped behind his scientist, free servo daring to attempt to brush his claws along her shoulder. If permitted it would just barely alight there, mindful to stick to less sensitive plating, a touch that was familiar but not intimate. If he was rejected or faced mild hostility, well Krieg was a Seeker, he had enough ego to take it in stride, and would merely give the scientist her space. He doubted the need for such. Pipette was sweetly accommodating in his opinion.

"Perfect timing. Backwater, this is the little genius that has made the evening possible. Though, obviously the remaining guests were biding their time until you brought our guest of honor." His optics shifted from Backwater to glance down at 'Pipchen' then moved aside, allowing her additional space so as to refrain from stifling the smaller framed Con. " Hopefully word of his arrival will help liven things up. " He hadn't noticed Bait, but the thought of the serpentine cassette caused his wings to twitch and angle shifting casually in a subconscious 'search' effort.

Raising his cube, he took a slow sip, optics on the femmes, as he settled in, what he assumed was a universal sign that he was stepping back, and giving them the floor, as it were.

[Deleted]

Backwater watched Starkrieger’s antics with great amusement and a small shake of the helm. Pilling on the faux-exasperation, the femme tipped her helm skyward with a sigh of her vents.
“Finally, someone greet’n me wit’ the respect I deserve.” She exaggerated her accent, waving a hand as the taller mech before her straightened up.

Starkrieger then turned to address his co-host, and BW’s attention followed. As Pipette introduced herself and held out a cube of… something, the ex-seacon took in her almost dainty frame, sloping armor of mute colouring and- interesting? Yeah, that was a way to put it- headgear- as BW reached forward to take the offered beverage with a nod. Not a fighter by the looks of her- but curious. Definitely intriguing- what with those sparkling pink optics and all.

“Backwater.” She spoke with laid-back ease in a chipper tone often used for those that hadn’t yet properly earned her disdain. “Pleasure ta meet ya baby-pop.” And it was- mostly. It was good to know who was who on this planet, and she had yet to learn the designation of everyone. Sure she could just go through the files or whatever had been suggested when she first landed- but where was the fun in that?

“As fer Bait…” Bac motioned to the furthest wall of their hidey-hole with a bob of her chin, bringing the cube up to her lips as she spoke in a conspirator’s tone, “He’s been here fer a while, surprised ya didn’t catch him, fly-boy.” A cheeky side-eye was sent Starkrieger’s way, before she finally sipped whatever concoction had been brewed up for the event.
Not the worst…
The airboat hmm-ed, shrugging her shoulders and rolling them back, loosening her plating and stance as she did. The mixture- the fumes of which alone could’ve likely flattened a lesser bot- burned down her intakes and sat in her tanks the way Energon of unreputable (read: probably unethical) sources often did.
Perfect for a back-woods sorta party. And with another self-satisfied nod, Backwater threw back an alarming portion of the cube in one go. For her frame-size, anyway.
“Ahhhh-” She smacked her lips, motioning a finger-gun to the ceiling, “Now that’s a half-decent brew. Ya make it yerself Baby-pop?”

[Pipette]

For a second, before Pipette caught herself, she was aggravated by Starkrieger’s pleasantries towards Backwater. But why did it aggravate her? She quickly realized she had a brief surge of jealousy. After a moment of brief introspection, she decided that she didn't like the feel of this new emotion, and that she had no fair claim to be jealous anyway. Her Star-kun was free to ply whoever he wanted with his affections. But then his hand on her shoulder smoothed away any lingering doubt and all was right again.

Pipchen even leaned in a little at the mention of Genius. She accepted the compliment for the soothing gentle brush of her ego. It was genuinely nice to be appreciated.

“...Baby-pop…” Pipette was momentarily stunned by the given nickname. She just couldn't process it. At least the ones her Star-kun plied her with made sense somewhere.

She spluttered for a second over her words as she regained her composure. “Yes, I am the chemist responsible for its manufacture...Back-chan.” She was attempting to partake of this new tradition of nicknames, to fit in with her kin and learn the ways of her species. “I am however a little disappointed that you consider it only half-decent. I have put in expansive research into finding the precise balance of taste components for optimum enjoyment, though I must consider the subjective nature.”

Pipette tapped her own cube with a finger from the hand holding the vessel. “What improvements would you suggest? More acidic or basic? Salts? Viscosity? Effervescence? I am open to further consultation.” And if it wasn't a one-fits-all solution, then she could consider multiple flavors to suit individuals.

[Starkrieger]

“Must be losing my touch” With a dramatic sigh of defeat, he added to the hopelessness. “I suppose I will have to sign up for reformatting.” Like anyone believed that would happen. Despite the dramatics, the exchange wasn’t fully occupying his processor. The way that his wings tipped and shifted suggesting that he was, indeed aiming his other sensors towards the indicated wall. It was mostly on reflex; its surface was out of range. Bait's small stature and low energy output didn't help in that area. That, of course, only occupied him for click, his emotional processing overriding the ‘search’ subroutines, to gently flare his wings in Backwater’s direction, angling toward her in invitation that wasn’t quite flirting. The reason, however, was doomed to remain vague.

An impish glint in his optics hinted at what was going through his mind Krieg loved a good game, and rarely hesitated to play up inter-model rivalry with his fellow military issues. Sadly, this would be a bad time, as he was trying to enable his scientist to test the waters with socializing, and forge useful connections with others in the base. So, he let it go.

As the femmes interacted he observed, content to see how things unfolded.

His concentration was broken, as his wings twitched back, jaw slackening at the display of the sea-con just downing the cube. Truth be told, he was a light-weight, able to handle the hard stuff, but not caring to lose control of his faculties too significantly… Unless he made the mistake of getting too tied up in a game. The stunned look would shift into his usual lopsided grin though, no judgement in his expression. Actually, he suspected by the end of the night, he’d be impressed.

On reflex, to be polite, and spare Pipette the responsibility of seeing to it immediately, Starkrieger passed Backwater his barley sampled cube. He knew it wasn’t strictly proper, but he had an inkling that she wouldn’t be offended. The conduct of soldiers was often far removed from the refined atmosphere of a legitimate host. Speaking of ‘proper’, they should probably suggest relocating closer to the highgrade.

“No doubt, your expertise will require further samples to properly acquaint your pallet”, he offered warmly, stepping aside with a flourish of a hand, indicating the table, clearing the path for them. If Pipette met his gaze, he would offer an encouraging dip of his helm. Perhaps he imagined it, but his chemist seemed… well, nervous didn’t feel entirely right, but she was definitely something.

[Deleted]

Backwater’s optics gleamed behind her visor, observing the Chemist’s stilted mannerisms, and the dynamic she seemed to have established with Starkrieger with mild amusement.
A bit of a prideful bird was she? Mm. Now that was interesting. Although… BW finished off her cube, enjoying the slow buzz that was ever so slightly thrumming along her lines, casting another optic over Pipette. She was a grounder- almost certainly.
A prideful… turbofox, then. Perhaps. She didn’t quite seem like a speeder- nor did she give off the right kind of prickly-confidence. Quite the opposite, actually.

Either way, it opened up an opportunity.
“Ah chin up angel-face,” Because she’d seen the look the first nickname had garnered, and wondered how far she could carry the reaction. “I’m sure ya’ ain’t working in the best way, most backwater setups don’t allow for anythin’ fancy. I expected far worse, it doesn’t wholly go down like solvent and that’s an accomplishment!” Her smirk grew, free hand moving to rest on a popped hip as she waved the cube in-hand around.

“As for the particulars- ah,” she swapped out the empty cube with Krieg’s offered one, handing it over and completely, voluntarily cutting off her own train of thought. “Thank ya kindly, Krieger. Find Bait yet?” Her smirk widened, her visor hiding the glances his way as Pipette had spoken, catching the flicks and flutters of the Seeker’s wings.
Primus, was she glad her kibble didn’t wave about like some kind of universal spark-broadcaster, that would just be embarrassing. Her fan blades could lay a lil flatter, perk up a bit if she tensed- but you’d have to be standing right at her back to see it, a fact of which she was well aware. Case in point, it was easy as scrap to project ignorant amusement- a smirk no one would ever know never reached her optics, a well-placed chuckled, an easy, confident roll of the shoulders and nonchalant wave at the table as the Starkrieger stepped aside.

“I’ll be glad to test whatever ya want me too,” She continued, helm tilting a bit to the side with a wry grin, “don’t know how good’a critique I’ll be though, I ain’t none too familiar with anything too complicated, mind.” An utter lie, she’d gambled and traded some good highgrade in her heyday- and why wouldn’t she dip into the stocks a bit? Didn’t happen everyday, after all. She wasn’t going to be too mean to the awkward scientist though, not just yet anyway.

??
Backwater took a swig from the Krieg’s cube, not in the least phased- she’d had worse from worse, just the same- and answered Bait’s questioning ping with a prod of her own. Her lil partner could come back now if he wanted, but she doubted he did in earnest. That, and she didn’t want to deal with a drunk cassette so early in the night. The absolute last thing she wanted was for the snake to purge his systems all over, making a mess for one and losing a valuable chunk of his mineral stores as he did, too. It would be a problem eventually, but it wasn’t something she was keen on dealing with so soon. If he docked now, he’d have some of her share of whatever concoction had been brewed. Disastrous, that’s what that was. He'd let him poke his snout in some if he was really so curious, but the later that happened the better.

So no… but if he wanted to sneak up to a certain red and black flier as they approached the highgrade table? Well. That was his prerogative.

[Pipette]

Pipette completely failed to hide any surprise as Backwater downed the entire cube’s contents. In response she gripped her own cube a little tighter and took a bigger sip than she would have normally. She knew far more precisely her own limits versus the exact contents and their effects of the liquid imbibed. Yes she was actually allowing herself to get intoxicated this evening, but she intended to make it to the end. To mimic Back-chan would put her on her wheels in under an hour. A poor show for the host to be sure.

“I have an inquiry, make that two actually. Firstly - Is this predilection with unofficial monikers common to the less regimental status and setup of our current command post, or do you two represent statistical anomalies, outliers? And secondly - what is a Bait?” She looked around the uncrowded cave and utterly failed to spot anything that could be classified as bait except the cubes on the table.

Pip hadn’t decided if she liked Backwater’s easy confidence and swagger, but decided in the moment that she wanted to like her at least. She was a little envious certainly but maybe she could learn from the other femme. Backwater was however a little...dirty...and Pipette trying to be polite was doing her best to ignore this little detail and not let it irk her. She knew she was overly sensitive to such frivolities and damned the universe for the existence of dirt for the umpteenth billionth time.

[Starkrieger]

Absently tapping a claw tip against Backwater’s now empty cube, Stakrieger tried not to let Bait’s still unrevealed presence get to him. Bac bringing it up though? It had his wings itching to angle and seek what he knew was somewhere.

“Not yet, I would hate to spoil his fun. ” He chuckled softly, the light sarcasm signaling his lack of interest in actually deceiving the femme. The truth, of course, was he couldn't yet detect Bait, and though he wasn’t comfortable enough to share his specs, he wasn’t too bothered if she inferred that detecting a lifeform so small and subtle was problematic.

As the girls led the way to the table, Krieg did what was most natural for the Seeker, he moved in behind to follow them. Continuing to toy with the emptied vessel, he ran a claw along it’s edge, testing the durability of its walls, mindful not to cause it to crack.

“Bait? He’s the guest of honor”, he interjected with a playful jab. After all, that was how he’d referred to the cassette at the onset of Backwater’s arrival. Despite his mild teasing, there was no denying the way his tone lifted as he referenced the snake. If he’d still been a young spark, he probably would have politely excused himself to go look for the missing noodle... or he might have just ditched Solarwind to deal with the apologies and resolved himself to a scolding later.

Solarwind had always taken social obligations so seriously...

Either way, in the present, he’d behave, try and be a good co-host. The brief dip of his wings corrected itself, a fleeting moment pared with a loss of focus in his optics, but he was sure the timing spared him from the femmes' notice. Setting the cube aside, he took up a fresh one to offer to the Airboat, while not yet replacing his own. He’d leave the genuine answers to fall on Backwater. The two of them would never learn to get on, if he was chiming up on every point.

Maybe he could wander off and search for the absent 'guest', if he didn’t turn up soon.

[Vega]

Well, these were certainly the correct coordinates.

She'd checked nearly half a dozen times on her approach alone. Vega had business to attend to at Blackridge that evening, having fully intended to see to it and return to the lab afterwards. Then she overheard a not so hushed conversation between two assisting Vehicons. About a gathering someone had set in a locale a reasonable distance from the base.

With high grade.

Once the business was settled she politely inquired to the location of said gathering, and after promises of keeping it hush hush she went on her slightly more than usual merry way. Business was taken care of, what harm could a few drinks be? Spark didn't need her for anything right now...and she didn't plan on staying too terribly long. Just a buzz. That's all she needed.

She sent a quick ping to her partner just to ensure she wouldn't be worried.

The flight was...not necessarily far, she'd made far longer ventures with no hassle at all. Though, somehow, it felt as if it took far, far longer than it actually did. It was quite difficult to mask her excitement really. She could hardly remember what it felt like to have the lines in your system a buzz with a light drunkenness. That'd change tonight with any luck.

The black jet listed, gracefully dipping downward into a descent. Pulling up slightly she slowed and transformed, landing carefully on the dirt before straightening back up. A quick scan on the area- a hole in the side of the mountain. A cave. From here she could faintly hear others already inside. Not enough to actually make out what they were saying, but more than enough to know they were there. She checked the coordinates once again.

This was certainly it.

With her head high and a polite - if less than stoic - smile on her face Vega strolled forward into the mouth of the cave. It didn't take long to see the other quests that had arrived. Three others specifically - she must have been early. Two femmes - grounders from what she could tell from afar, and a mech- another flier. Her hands settled on her hips as the three chartered among themselves. She then spoke up-

"Greetings, I assume this is where the party is then?"

[Deleted]

Backwater didn’t try to butt in as Pipette and Starkrieger spoke, which would be a rather polite accomplishment if the short exchange wasn’t regarded with a quiet smirk of amused contempt. That Krieg was having trouble finding her lil ground-level spy only gave her pride, and the Chemist’ awkward manner almost certainly promised night-long entertainment- depending, likely, on the amount of high grade consumed. Either way, she didn’t bother elaborating on either Bait, or Pip’s ‘inquiry’ as to nicknames- they may be ‘less regimental’ here, but true monikers had been earned in her platoon. While those days were long gone now, the difference between a jab or a tease and an actual, sticking name remained steadfast.
Safe to say, no one was likely to get themselves one in her books any time soon.

Polite silence or not- Bac didn’t bother to answer until the newest arrival at their shindig walked further into the cave. The din inside had gone a long way to cover their landing, but the dying ring of engines outside and the dull thud of pede-steps rang faint and true to an attentive listener. She waited until they spoke, an illusion of unawareness, and then turned to look- up, and up- and why are they always taller mm? The little scientist had been a refreshing change, but it seemed her neck cables wouldn’t be having a break anytime soon. Greatttt. Tall, seemed collected, elegant air about them and definitely held themselves with confidence. Mostly black plating save a few dashes of colour, and as she’d thought- flier. Mostly to save herself some neck-pain, but also to open up their little trio’s circle and access to the booze table, Backwater took a couple steps back and to the side as she spoke.

“Greeting’s a bit formal for a moonshine-taster in’a hole on’a side of a mountain love.” Backwater’s red visor gleamed in the lowlight as she tipped her helm in a general motion towards their current shelter. The little Decepticon antenna-topper at her shoulder bobbed as she shifted her weight to half-lean a hip against the table, seemingly unconcerned as to whether or not it could stand it.
“I’d tell ya my designation but I’ll leave the honors to our hosts.” With a light chuckle there, and a smirking glance at Pipette, Bac left it at that. If she was reading it right, Krieg was using this evening as a chance to give the little Chemist some social time- and even if that wasn’t right, it was clear she needed some experience anyway. What better place to start then another round of introductions?

Meanwhile, Bait bided his time beneath the high-grade-laden table, stretched along the far wall and lurking in the shadows. Glossy black optics gazed out, observing the pedes of the little group standing just beyond his hide with unblinking steadfastness. Waiting… waiting...

[Pipette]

Well it appeared one of her two questions would go completely unanswered for now, while the other was met with something of a puzzle. Guest of honor? Whatever did her Star-kun mean? Pipette didn't worry much about her confusion however, she had an inkling that it would set the tone for the evening. It was a puzzle that would either solve itself or not, but certainly could wait as another arrival drew attention.

The new flier - judging by the wings - could have been a Trine mate with Starkrieger. She was the same height, and near enough the same coloration, just more red to Starkrieger’s white. Indeed Pipette wondered if they knew each other, or were even much closer. Yet one more puzzle to be solved.

“Ah greetings.” It looked like Pipette was the comrade to lay down the introductions. “I am Pipette, chemist and amateur brew meister. This is Backwater.” Pipette nodded in the direction of the other femme. “And this is Starkriger, possibly you two have already met? Oh, and please help yourself to a subjectively delicious cube.” She quickly added.

She was disinclined to introduce Bait, the Guest of Honor, because she simply didn't know who, what, or where said entity was.

[Starkrieger]

Hmm… he’d expected Bac to fill in the details, well that was alright. There would be plenty of opportunities for Pipette to revisit the subject with him later. He could provide an answer; however, it was a complicated question, and would easily lead to a long conversation that might exclude the airboat. That would run contrary to his plans…

Fortunately a solution soon presented itself in the form of a distraction. While the cave entrance was outside of his range, the familiarity of the vibrations his audials picked up was unmistakable. As the newcomer approached, he smoothly pivoted, to angle himself to indirectly face her, not willing to allow her to approach from his wingside.

It had been… some time since he’d met an unknown Seeker in a social setting. Their numbers had suffered throughout the war.  When he first crossed paths with an unfamiliar one, it was typically in combat, or introductions to a new base, or units.  A regimented affair at best...  amidst dire circumstances at worst.

Wings raised subtly, twitching into a slow flare, as his optics did their customary assessment, keying in to key structures. Not the sleekest he had seen, but Vega was still slender, most likely quick on the turn… Her wing positioning was interesting, but as it was clearly non-emotive, his attention politely redirected towards the finals for hints at her mood.  It would be impolite to focus on them, particularly given their stationary nature. Mostly, it was her elegance that struck him. The way she carried herself, certainly her role hadn’t originally been combat… or she was intended for command, a position that benefited from mastery of the social graces.  Seekers weren't sloppy, unkempt ground soldiers, but there was a marked difference between the eloquent and those that were merely disciplined. 

As Backwater and Pipette engaged with Vega, he straightened his frame out of instinct, her own poise, perhaps making him more aware he might be slacking, and if his primaries pulling back were any indication, the so far, silent mech was trying to decide what he should do with himself.  Since losing Sol, he hadn't much reason to rein himself in. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure”, he filled in for his scientist, but offered little else, to allow Vega the chance to introduce herself. Despite his guarded disposition, Krieg casually scooped up a cube to hold it out to her.

If the Seeker femme met his gaze, Krieg’s wings would offer a subtle dip in respect, though his chassis was held high. As his helm tipped to the side, those optics shifted meaningfully to her left, where a second would stand before returning with a raised optic ridge. It was the closest he would come to outright inquiring. A change to propriety that he’d experienced in distant outposts; it was something one simply did not ask, not since Vos.

Perhaps Vega wouldn't even be bothered, trines weren’t important to every Seeker… but she probably wouldn’t be surprised that they would matter to him. His under armour, and his currently flipped up flight visor weren’t standard issue, but marked him as a combat flier none the less. He'd have been deeply entrenched in their ‘brothers-in-arms’ culture.