[ti]Ep 3[/ti]Smoke Gets In Your Optics [Nokta, Open]

[Nokta]

As Vega turned away, visibly unnerved by Nokta’s comment, the lieutenant would not miss the small head movement made by the seeker, though he couldn’t see the more telling look that had sprung across her faceplates as she did so. It was clear that his attempt at engaging in some form of comradery with his fellow soldiers had fallen short in favor of their meaningless fascination with the native species. What little amity had been present on Nokta’s faceplates in the form of amusement quickly faded to unnerving coldness, his disturbing gaze simply boring a hole into the side of Vega’s helm as she instead replied to Backbeat. He was quickly finding that his patience for small talk was coming to an end.

No matter. Making 'friends' was hardly in his job description.

"Yes, well spoken," Nokta would reply tersely, almost as if figuratively jamming a knife into the entire discussion. It was in response partially to Vega’s last comment, and partially to Backbeat’s. Though in the latter case, Nokta’s words were more of an afterthought than anything else– one that did not betray how he really felt about the pointlessness of discussing the humans and their equally unimpressive ‘culture.’

"As it happens, I’m fortunate enough to have found you two at a brief lull in my personal duties." He would then turn to Backbeat. "Backbeat, I have a question one of your station could help in answering." The mech spoke plainly.

"And you, weapons repair specialist Vega," He would say first– his decision to include the flier’s occupational designation before her name sounding nothing short of robotic– before turning his helm to look her in the optics. "I may have some work suited to your expertise, on the off chance Blackridge has the adequate supplies for it."

Straight to business, his demeanor had changed, harboring the same flat, emotional detachment that had painted his frame in the beginning. Soldierly as ever, he awaited their responses with palms steepled together in his lap, his crimson orbs leveling the pair silently.

[Deleted]

Backbeat's optics focused in on Vega's brief flash of distaste, it was to brief to discern motives and reason from. But Backbeat knew to file this behavior for further investigation. That said it was what she said that he found far more interesting.There was slight amusement to be found in her proposal of acquisition by force. Backbeat leaned back to let out a rather bemused chuckle. He, ironically enough for a supplier of weaponry, was not a violent bot by nature. Sure he'd not hesitate if he had too... But the old burn and pillage only worked right up until the village decided it was more hassle to put out the fires than burn. Sustainability was the name of the game in Backbeat's optics.

Nokta's terse reply and the quick shift to the business of the day meant the discussion would be shelved for later. Backbeat leaned in, his the focus of his optics shifted to the rather shadowy Decepticon. Backbeat smelled an angle. Most inquiries of stock tended to either be submitted in the drowning tide of request forums that seemed to curse his desk, to bypass that and ask directly... That sort of thing tended to denote a desire for expediency or secrecy. Both were rather profitable for Backbeat. The Decepticon logician snapped his clawed hand. "I'm all audio sensors..."

[Deleted]

It seemed her distaste toward Nokta's notions of crushing humans had not gone unnoticed. It was not hard to feel the hardened stare from the grim mech beside her. She wasn't quite sure how Backbeat had interpreted it, offering a chuckle instead of a heated glare. Luckily the attention was taken off her as Nokta spoke again. As if slamming his hand against a table to gain their attention.

He addressed Backbeat first, then Vega, adding her occupational title. Stiff in its delivery. A formality not given to the other mech in the room. Interesting. She turned to meet his intense gaze. Work? What sort of work? Vega's mouth turned up at the corners in a polite, curious smile.

"I'm certain I could be of assistance. And if Blackridge is lacking I am sure I can find ways to substitute or acquisition any materials required"

It wouldn't be the first time situations required her to be creative.

[Nokta]

Without further posturing, Nokta promptly drew his sidearm from its holster to plant it flat on the table, facing directly at Vega. He’d leave it like that for a moment, just to make sure the femme was paying attention– and then swivel it around so that the handle was facing her.

An invitation.

"Vega, there’s been damage to my blaster. I’d like for you to ascertain where, and what the extent of that damage is." The ask was abrupt, broad, and cryptic, to be certain. And yet his voice was steady and sure. It was intentional. This was a test, to see if what he’d read of Vega’s skills were in fact true.

Nokta’s blaster was archaic, to say the least. Large, unwieldy in the hands of those who were not used to weapons of its class, with a long and thick barrel due to the suppressor integrated within it. Nothing particularly seemed out of the ordinary about it.

But a keen optic would notice that there seemed to be fraying on the cords attached to the blaster’s internal battery– as a result of ice damage from Nokta’s centuries of stasis in subzero temperatures. Damage that could lead to ineffective charging and lowered battery capacity over time. Not ideal for an energy-based weapon.

Nokta did not expect Vega to notice the issue right away– it had taken himself a full day to realize there was something wrong with it after spending some time in the firing range. Nokta would give Vega a few minutes to attempt to locate the source of the damage. After that? Oh well, he would simply tell her the issue and hope that she at least knew what she was doing well enough to fix the problem itself.

However, if she was, in fact, of the caliber he expected– she could prove very useful indeed.

Then, for his question concerning Backbeat, while Vega worked on his little puzzle.

"Say a medium-sized cargo ship landed on this planet and high command ordered it deconstructed for parts. How quickly could you outfit a team of a dozen Vehicons with the required tools needed to carry out such work?"

It was theoretical, of course. But Backbeat’s answer would determine a few things in the back of Nokta’s mind even with a ballpark estimate from the logistician.

Legs still crossed, one hand leisurely at his midsection and half-swiveled in his chair facing both and neither at the same time, in his element– talking 'business,' that is– Nokta now looked positively like a corporate shark ready to hear his underlings report on this week’s returns. If only.

[Deleted]

Backbeat eyed Nokta for a moment, Backbeat could already see what the strange bot was doing. He quickly computed the request, then gave his answer. "A job like that? About half an Earth hour at most to get them equipped and briefed." He gave the answer in a bored tone of voice, it was a rather pointless question to be honest. "Depending who's on the duty roster and the model of the ship the estimate will change." He waved a clawed hand in a "so-so" gesture.  

Backbeat chuckled. "The real question is how long deconstruction will take. It's not one of those Primus awful lowest bidder constructed "Sky Claw" types, is it?" He eyed the two Decepticons wearily. "Cause your better off just chucking one of those into a smelter than trying to remove anything useful." He already suspected this wasn't idle speculation, Nokta didn't seem the type for it. 

[Deleted]

Maybe someone else would take the gesture of Nokta pointing the barrel of his pistol toward them as a threat. An intimidation tactic. And maybe under different circumstances it might have been. But Vega watched carefully, doubting he'd make such a move here. He spun the pistol around and moved away, explaining what exactly he wanted her to do here. An examination. Easy enough.

Nokta's hand moved away and Vega immediately took the firearm into hers. Carefully she turned it over in her hands, giving a cursory glance over the gun. It was strikingly similar to some of the older models she'd seen, maybe even older than her own. But it also had been modified several times as the eons passed. Standard pieces replaced with ones to improve or repair the firearm time and time again. But the core was still relatively the same, that was all she needed.

As she looked it over she noted a few, smaller concerns to the piece. A few hairline cracks along the casing beginning to split their way down the gun. Nothing that needed IMMEDIATE attention but if left to be striated by usage they could cause a serious problem. But she doubted that was what Nokta had meant.

The gun could also use a good clean. When was the last time he'd had this thing maintained? Debris had begun to build up in places and Vee itched to just take the thing apart right there to clean it. But she kept looking, turning it up to see-

Oh, that must be it she thought.

Wiring damage. Right at the charging port. Her thumb carefully moved a wire, quickly noting the insulation had not been melted. So overheating was not the issue. Fraying, usually a sign of age. This damage had been over a long period of time.

When WAS the last time he'd had this thing maintained?!

Vee hummed softly before finding a spot in the other two's conversation to speak herself. "Well, I see a few issues here. Most pressing is this wire fraying, here at the charging port. That's a fairly easy fix. I've also noted a few developing cracks in the housing. That's not something that needs immediate attention but if left alone it will become a problem. And probably the least pressing, is the thing is bloody filthy, could use a good through clean."

She looked over to Nokta setting the gun down, barrel turned away from them all. "The wires I have plenty of back at the lab, could get it done in probably a few hours? The cracks will take some more in depth repairs, cleaning will take less than an hour. If you're willing to part with it for say…two days I could get that all done for you easy enough. If not I can just see to the wiring and send it back on its way to you."

(Extra damage approved by Knox)

[Nokta]

He listened to the other two mecha as they gave their two cents on his requests. First, to Backbeat, whose news was more than pleasing, to say the least. This meant Blackridge wasn’t quite the backward operating dump he’d first assumed it to be upon waking up in the med bay.

As for Vega, after listening to her it was clear she knew what she was doing. Good.

He’d respond to Backbeat first.

"The Ad Infinitum is a sizable transport craft constructed using primarily materials not found naturally on Earth or anywhere else in this system. High Command has use of its metals for Nemesis reclamation efforts, amongst other things." Nokta explained. While the ship he’d arrived here in was rather old, it was more valuable for its sturdiness– after all, it’d managed a crash landing pretty well– sporting a frame whose metals would more likely than not be useful in repairing hull damage to the Nemesis, whenever the hell they’d find a way to pull it out of the water and do that.

"When we’re done here, source the tools needed for such a job. I’ll have a team of six Vehicons assigned to the project within the hour." And that was that, as he turned to Vega to address her next, considering what she’d said once more.

"I have been having issues with battery efficiency as of late," he agreed with the femme, who seemed to pick out the issue with no issue. He had little doubt she’d be a more than acceptable caretaker for his weapon in future, but that sort of thing was better put to the test with actions and not words.

"Take it," He slid the blaster closer to her. "Focus on the wiring for the time being. I’ll have you see to the other repairs another time." He had fieldwork matters to attend to the next day, and he’d rather not be caught without a firearm in the field if the problem was not in any way immediate.

[Deleted]

Backbeat nodded and tapped away on a data pad he'd pulled out of one of his many in frame storage options. He'd need to make room in a storage bay or two and fast track a few supply requests to get the equipment free. But it was all very do able. 

He gave a rather comical thumbs up. "Almost done organizing the salvage team. One last thing, need the location of the craft and if you had personal items on it you wanted returned."

Backbeat would need to inspect the ship himself as well to check it's actual salvageability. But the prospect of getting out of the base was too great to pass up on. Especially for one who chaffed at being stuck in this underground mausoleum. 

[Deleted]

Vega picked the pistol up once again, holding it with what almost could he reverence. "I'll see to it swiftly, and have it back to you in a flash." She promised. Gently she turned it over in her hands. Taking in every little nick and scratch. The visible rub marks on the handle where Nokta held the weapon. It'd seen its fair share of use in this far too long war.

Vega always held a certain reverence for weaponry, even before the escalation. There was something to marvel about the craftsmanship and the design. How each Smith had just ever so different ways of tempering the metal or aligning the mechanics to make it sing.

"It's quite a unique piece, modded a fair bit I can tell. I'd love to know more about it, given you've ever got the time." She mused setting the gun down on the desk, muzzle pointed away from the all.

Even passively she was all too aware of safety.

[Nokta]

"The Infinitum resides near the Northern Pole of this planet, in an area known as the Helheim Glacier Region," Nokta responded to the logistics specialist, as he tapped at his own datapad, bringing up the map of said region and sending the data over to Backbeat.

"I can authorize a pair of Eradicons to maintain patrol routes over the construction area for the duration of the deconstruction, so your team can work unfettered," the mech spoke without looking at the logistician, such administrative action as this seemingly menial to him as all it took was a few swipes on his datapad to assign the flight-capable troops to begin guard watch over the region.

Then, he set the datapad down, staring Backbeat down for this next exchange. It was not intended to be an order the logistician should easily disregard. "The only belongings I have left on the Infinitum were left in the Captain’s quarters, which was sealed off when the ship went into lockdown during our voyage. I will return to the ship myself to retrieve them once your team regains access to this room." He maintained optic contact with Backbeat for another moment to ensure the mech understood his orders.

Then, turning back to Vega he nodded in thanks. By now he had no doubt she would be able to adequately service his weapon. And if she did well, it was likely he’d be coming to her for further work down the line.

"If your work is of the level of quality I suspect it is, I don’t doubt we might have that conversation in the future," He replied simply.

[Deleted]

Backbeat eyed the Decepticon up then chuckled, amused at the casual seeming nature of an artic expedition. He quickly tallied the numbers in his head then spoke. "The polar regions eh? Well, that'll dissuade the Autobots certainly." Tapped a few more commands into the Data Pad. "The weather might factor into the resolution time. But I'm sure that can be budgeted."

He finished his work and handed the datapad to Nokta to sign. The timetable he had prepared was a little generous, but seemed to be budgeted to allow for unexpected issues rather than to be wasteful. The team assigned was the regulation amount of a mission like this. Although Backbeat had made sure to add himself to the salvage team as an overseer. The only real sticking point was the Energon supply for the cutting tools had been scaled to the absolute minimum nessicary amount.

Backbeat motioned to the datapad as he held it out for Nokta to take and sign. "Just need your Senator Sherma on this here document and we're good."

[Deleted]

"I shall not disappoint you, I look forward to having said conversation." She said confidently. Vega was definitely assured of herself and her abilities. And the maintenance on the weapon - while extensive and old - would be easy enough. A thought of perhaps finding a way to allow longer battery life lingered. But she'd bring that up to Nokta once the pistol was serviced properly first.

Modding a weapon with damage, even as markedly minute as this, was not a wise thing to do. And there was also the point that he may not want that. The gun already performing in a satisfactory way. Again, she was positive the repair would be simple.

She tuned in periodically to the other conversation he was having with Backbeat. A wrecked ship. Rife with materials and personal effects of the shadowy mech. All marooned on one of the ice caps of the planet. Dreadful, she thought to herself. She could hardly handle the chill where the lab was located. Doing absolutely no favors for the scarring on her leg.

But Backbeat seemed more than pleased to take the job. Quickly asking the mech for a signature to begin the process. Well he certainly seemed to know what he was doing as well.

[Nokta]

Nokta waved a hand at Backbeat's observations as to what complications the nature of the region might pose to the salvage operation– “Take what time you need, but nothing more.” He cared about tying up loose ends just as much as the next ranking mech, but not if it was going to cause issues for other aspects of the army’s function. Efficiency was the most valuable currency when it came to logistics, he knew that much.

He would then take the datapad into his hand, sticking out a long digit to sign where it was indicated, the mech’s signature quick and succinct, likely a movement he’d done hundreds of thousands of times prior to that day.

“No, I don’t expect you will,” Nokta mumbled then in response to Vega, as though it were an afterthought and that her living up to what expectations he’d set were a given now, not something that needed to be guaranteed any further at this point.

Nokta would then turn back to the computer station he’d been at, sending a few files over to his other personal devices from the system before logging out, rising to his full height. “You have your assignments. Any updates should be given directly to myself. I will not have High Command distracted by designs so menial,” He asserted just as matter-of-factly as he’d been speaking prior. These were not suggestions, but orders. Though his final statement was directed more at Backbeat than Vega, as ripples of her task were far less likely to make it up the proverbial food chain.

“Do either of you have any questions before I take my leave?”