'Tis the Season

[out_of_order]

WHO: Cal, BD-1 and you?
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Winter prep and all that jazz
WHEN: Mid to late this month
WARNINGS: N/A


I. Workshop (Green-1)
Given Cal's weathered (hah!) a few winters already, he feels like he has a pretty good idea of what to expect now. He's still got some heating units he's refurbished from last winter and has scrounged up a few more, or at least parts enough to make functional again. The Jedi has the portable heaters set on a table beside the main entrance, free to take for anyone who might need it.

He might be found fixing another or gutting one that's otherwise beyond repair. It's something to do, and not at all something he minds, knowing it can benefit someone in the end.

His little exploration droid is either watching intently, helping light things up or if his attention's lapsed, he's gone off to poke around the large bins of scrap. Or if you're lucky you'll catch BD-1 outside, chasing or scanning some bug or another.


II. Logging
It's not the usual use for a lightsaber, but it makes things easier, and it's what Cal has on hand. Given they'd just gone through a storm, he doesn't think they might have an issue of that sort when it comes to a power grid malfunction, but that still doesn't mean that something else couldn't happen and knock things out. Power rods only lasted so long, so heating things up the old-fashioned way would probably be the best alternative, especially since you could also cook by such sources.

And so that's why the young Jedi is out in the woods, slicing up fallen trees. A lot of them are already somewhat charred and toasted from the volcano, so he's had to really look around to locate something that was still usable. But hey, charcoal's a thing, right? He's no expert, but he's gathered some chunks that he thinks might still be able to burn.

This work's a lot less fun then repairing things, in his opinion. Sure, both can be tedious but at least when he's fixing things his arms aren't aching by the end of it. "Well, it's a good workout anyway," he quips, wiping his brow as he looks at his droid buddy.

Comments

II

[in_extremis]

Without the zing and thud of falling logs, and in a stillness where the leaves weren't being crunched underfoot, a strange, tinny buzzing sound could be heard. The sound dipped and muffled but was clearly winding its way closer, and coming behind it the crunch and sweep of the underbrush in the clear sounds of pursuit. The buzzing rushed toward the cleared area, darting around trees, nimble and close to the ground to outpace the heavier footfalls that tracked it.

It appeared first, bursting out of the brush and careening slightly as it was caught on a wiry branch. It was a small, metallic bullet shape, with a depression in the centre, and the buzzing sound it was making abruptly stopped before it crashed down into the bed of dry leaves. It took several seconds for Tony to make his way through the trees behind it, and when he did spot Cal and his droid, he sighed and dropped a shoulder against a sturdy trunk, arms crossed and pointedly leaving the little car where it fell. "It's still making too much noise," he complained. "That'll get someone killed. Did you know you could keep coffee in your shop? Most people do. It's called self-care, you should try it."

[out_of_order]

BD-1 was instantly rushing over to investigate the previously speeding object, hopping about to dig it out of the leaves. Cal shook his head with a rueful smile, just glad that the source turned out to be from a friend. He turned towards Tony, brow lifting.

"Toy, prototype, or something else?" he asked, stepping over as BD nudged the thing into view.

"And is that a hint that I should get a caf-maker or something?"

[in_extremis]

"A direct request," Tony confirmed, frowning at the rescue mission, happy enough to let the thing stay buried. Maybe Cal would be able to make something viable out of the parts of it, though that was going to be harder now that Tony had tracked him into the middle of nowhere instead of his workshop. It had at least been warm in there.

"Little of everything," he answered. "It's for the Barrys. To help them transport more food, faster. Or, you know, whatever it is they do, listen, I'm not going to stop them from inventing street racing, when you're finally gifted speed you've got to test the limits. You'd probably like it, doesn't burn you out like chopping wood does, more of a stimulant, I took you more for the type to get out of your head than try to shut it down. Is this working for you?" The last time Tony had found someone out here clearing the woods, it was a cry for help.

[out_of_order]

"I'll admit, it's not my go-to, but I haven't seen anyone doing any prep-work and figured I might as well get a head-start before things really get chilly," Cal shrugged, clipping his lightsaber onto his belt as he knelt down to pick up the little vehicle. He squinted as BD-1's scanning light flashed across him. "-thanks."

The Jedi turned the little car over in his hands, looking for where it would open up. "The Barrys? So they'll be able to steer this? Is the focus speed or convenience? Because I think something small going too fast isn't going to work well with any full loads, however much that might be," he mused. "Even our transports for supplies don't go that fast unless they're on a rail but we're probably not looking to make that sort of commitment, are we?"

[in_extremis]

Tony's confrontational expression softened, though he kept his lips pursed like he was still skeptical of Cal's motives, and he suggested idly, "There might still be some, from last year. If it didn't get toasted." It wasn't something that Cal had to take on alone, in other words. Bucky had practically clearcut part of these woods, there had to be some left.

Twirling a finger and shaking his head, Tony did agree, "Minimal infrastructure. The goal is greater mobility, not manufacturing a dependence on us. She's only going so fast because she's got a powerful engine under the hood, so she can bear a heavy load." He let Cal figure out what he meant with just an illustrative curl of his fingers, to feel the hooks and hitches along the bottom of the craft for nets or more durable containers. "A modular system. Same philosophy, this has got to fit into their lifestyle, not the other way around."

[out_of_order]

"Never hurts to have a little extra just in case," Cal grinned. He eased the vehicle's covering open, brows lifting as he marveled a bit at the mechanisms Tony managed to cram inside.

"Has to be simple enough for them to maintain, or at least that translates into something they understand. But from what I saw of BeeDee's scans from when they went down those ducts, it seems like they're more technically-minded than the Funfronds."

He glanced at Tony again. "What all are they usually trying to transport?"

[in_extremis]

Maybe Tony was willing to believe that Cal just liked chopping wood, and with a final fussy sniff let it go, glancing aside like he was already planning to interrogate anyone he suspected of making Cal flee into the woods. Again.

Cal did zero in on plenty of Tony's reasons for the car's design, so he tapped his nose, then had to admit, "I don't really know. Food, I assume, they seemed to have a system. It's not entirely altruistic, you know, if we're in a situation like that again, we can't guarantee they're going to be so generous. We give them a little help now, they can use it to help us out later."

[out_of_order]

That last sniff got an arch of a brow, and then a breath of a laugh and a shrug in turn. Chopping wood wasn't a particular go-to but it did serve as some physical target to get in a bit of lightsaber practice while also being...productive? That was as much Cal's reasoning as anything, but he didn't think he was ready to make a habit of it. He was considerably more at ease. While he hadn't exactly made friends with Wesker, he wasn't as concerned about the man hunting him down anymore.

"That's true enough. I'm sure they'd probably all rather we be out of their...leaves? than stick around. But at least we've been able to actually make contact with them. It doesn't seem like any of the previous residents had even really known about them. Of course, with a lack of recorded history we don't know for sure."

He stooped down to let BD-1 scan the little car again without him holding it. "How many were you thinking of making? Or are we keeping it simple enough that they can potentially build more themselves too?" he asked, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

[in_extremis]

"We're just guests," Tony dismissed, waving a hand, for all of the things they or anyone else transplanted here didn't know. That was part of the design. "There's a whole civilization out there, while we've been assuming the planet is abandoned to the wildlife--they mentioned different societies to me, people that are further out, others that got wiped out when they got too close to the engine." That was supposed to be a metaphor, but it was also very literal, Tony realized, and his arms got tucked in close again, hugging around his chest. "They know more about this place, how to take care of it, and also what has been done to it, than we ever will, so we've got to work together, if we can convince them it's beneficial to them. I don't know why they aren't under the impression that we're part of the problem, we've basically got a head start, and--" He freed a hand briefly, to flick vaguely toward the car, "Being a catalyst for some rapid development, that they can build on themselves, could be the next move. Can't just give them the one, though, that's nothing, you'd just stick that in a museum, pointless. A fleet. How many drivers do you need for a local product launch? That's got to be, like, a hundred, minimum. Maybe that's excessive."

I

[sunglassesincluded]

It's rather surprising just how close Cal's workshop happens to be to the hospital. Wesker has noticed it before of course. He has noticed it while it seemed abandoned in Cal's absence and he has noticed the place come back to life with the young Jedi having returned to the city. Just the workshop of a young engineer doing what he can to help his fellow citizens.

Wesker hasn't forgotten what happened during Calibrations. Though as of now Cal hasn't tried to use any of the information he had gathered against Wesker, which the older man is also very aware of as he studies the heating units set up outside the shop. The young man knows what he is doing and he is wielding one of the most peculiar weapons within this city. A weapon that needs maintenance and care.

"At least some of us are being productive." Wesker simply states when he finally steps into Cal's workspace, expression and tone neutral.

[out_of_order]

To his credit, Cal doesn't tense when he senses the other's arrival. While he hasn't completely listed the man as a friend, he knows Wesker has his priorities fairly straight when it comes to matters around Temba. He finishes up another weld before setting his tool down to inspect his work.

"Too easy to not be productive," he says, sliding an energy rod into the generator to test it. "I'd rather have something to do than not." He flicks the thing on, listening as things start humming softly and the coils begin to glow a faint orange.

"Need something?"

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker studies Cal’s finished product for only a moment without stepping any closer. Instead, he simply nods once. “Yes.” A straightforward answer for a straightforward question.

He moves his attention fully onto the younger man, crossing his arms casually. “I want to make a device. Small, simple, easy to use. Something engineered to allow its user to escape a dangerous situation without the need of actually training them.” Wesker lays out the basics, then adds: “But I lack the skills to do this by myself.”

[out_of_order]

Business, then. That's fine, Cal won't question that sort of reasoning. He switches the heater off, leaning a hip against the worktable as he tilts his head, listening as Wesker explains.

"A device... Like a shield or ...well, our troopers would have these things called droid poppers, basically a small EMP grenade, but they were effective in stunning people as well. Although that might be a little more dangerous for someone without training to handle."

He frowns a little. "I'm not sure I'm your guy for this sort of thing though. I'll admit, I mostly handle repairs, and vehicles, and if you're thinking of my lightsaber, that's something specialized that my Order taught us how to build and maintain."

[sunglassesincluded]

“And yet you are willing to engage with the idea rather than outright consider it an attempt in futility.” Wesker returns plainly. “Which already sets you apart from the right guy.”

He has already sought out the right guy. But all that resulted in was a pointless argument and the realization that they weren’t aiming for the same goal or even remotely the same direction.

“I know how to craft grenades.” Wesker continues, putting out his thoughts on Cal’s mentioned EMP grenades. “I can fill them with various chemicals for various results. Stun grenades, flashbangs, heavy explosives… But I agree that grenades are dangerous. They are weapons rather than tools.” And if anything Wesker would prefer to not having to arm every child in the city.

[out_of_order]

That makes Cal wonder who else Wesker might have asked. He knows he's hardly the only engineer in the city, and that's only by local expertise. There are far more technically-minded people than himself, and yet here he is getting saddled with side-projects from other people. He'd be amused if he was sure he shouldn't be somewhat concerned.

At least he and Wesker are in agreement with something, and the Jedi nods at that, glad to put aside the suggestion of grenades. Not that some children didn't seem to have weapons already, but grenades are still a lot more unpredictable in terms of result.

"I don't think it's a bad idea to be prepared," he admits. "Shield might be tricky, but even something small can make a difference so long as it lasts long enough to give someone a head-start to get away from a threat. There'd have to be limitations though, to keep it simple enough to do the job but not get the user caught up in it as well. But that's only if we can get the components necessary. I've never made any myself so I only have a vague idea of how they work." He drums his fingers on the worktable, thinking. "Did you have any suggestions? Anything different in mind? More options would be better to have and explore."

[sunglassesincluded]

Wesker gives an acknowledging gesture towards Cal in response to his words before leaning easily against a counter opposite of Cal's workbench, crossing his arms and tilting his head back to shift his attention at the ceiling above while summing up his collected thoughts.

"I was presented with a portable cloaking device by the first person I approached. Good idea, excellent execution, but considering our most recent invasion of creatures that lacked eyesight entirely there obviously would have been needed adjustments. At which point the argument brought a close to that option." Wesker will readily admit that he has no idea how said cloaking device even worked in the first place. "My personal experiences are with grenades as mentioned. I also have worked with smoke bombs hidden in wearables in the past but never quite figured out the mechanism behind these." His interest has always more been with studying creatures and weapons to fight those very creatures.

He continues. "Our captors are capable of putting a force field around an entire city. If replicating such technology on a smaller scale would be possible, maybe combine it with a stun effect it would be ideal." But ideal tends to be difficult to reach. Which usually isn't something to deter Wesker. He just needs to find the right people.

[out_of_order]

Cal listens, nodding. One couldn't depend solely on visibility advantages. If they go with the stun option, there's still room for complications if they try to go for more control, and doing so would just make it less user-friendly.

"The idea isn't something I'm unfamiliar with. But I've never actually made one myself and haven't really made use of them." That's what his lightsaber's for; both defense and offense. "If I had access to whatever tech the Agrii used for their shields, then I'd have a starting point, but if it's a part of their ship systems, it's probably better working from scratch then trying to figure out how to shrink down whatever components might be necessary.

"There are other technically-minded people here. It might be better to float the general idea so we don't get too stuck on the concept of shields. Then we'll have options, and more potential to make something that works and fits the main features you're looking for."

1;

[sinistral]

"Lunch."

It's an abrupt announcement as the Soldier strolls into the workshop. It might not even be anywhere near lunchtime, he's not too sure. But he'd hit the replicator on his way over, something rarely done but certainly overdue as thanks. And the result? Pastrami piled sky high on rye bread and topped with spicy brown mustard, still warm with a dill pickle rolled into the paper wrapping, as New York as one could get on an alien planet. The Soldier isn't about to analyze where either the memory or the impulse comes from.

He places two wrapped sandwiches down on a corner of a workbench, waiting for Cal to hit a good stopping point.

[out_of_order]

BD-1 hops along after the Soldier's heels before jetting up onto the edge of the workbench to inspect the man's offerings. From where he is, Cal looks up.

"I can smell that from here- and it smells so good. You're going to spoil me," he laughs, finishing up one more pass with his arc welder before he turns it off and sets it aside. The Jedi steps around his worktable and over to where the Soldier's laid out lunch, dropping a hand on BD-1's head in a fond head-pat as he looks down at the sandwiches.

"That looks so good. What am I looking at?" He's sure Greez would approve of this sort of sandwich if he were here.

[sinistral]

The Soldier peels back a corner of the waxed paper wrapping for BD-1's inspection. It's the least he can do for the curious little guy; it's not like droids eat sandwiches. Or pickles.

"It's replicator so it's probably not perfect," he warns as Cal comes over. "Pastrami on rye. Remembered it from my home world." Didn't really know why he remembered it, or the circumstances around the memory. Only the sandwich had come back to him, piled so high it needed a fork to eat, the sharpness of the mustard, the crisp crunch of the pickle.

He didn't really want to examine why he remembered, and Cal at least understood from whence the memory issues came. And it had seemed like a nice thing to do.

[out_of_order]

Food is always so weird looking! BD-1 hoots appreciatively as the Soldier helps him get a better glimpse of things. He hops back when Cal comes over.

"I'd say Earth has so much good food but I think it's mostly my own food experience that's been suffering," the Jedi chuckles. He holds his hands up as though trying to size up the sandwich. "How do we eat these things? I'm pretty sure that's bigger than even a Wookie's mouth."

Not that this dilemma will stop him from trying- the sandwiches look good and he's getting pretty hungry now that he realizes he hasn't eaten in a while.

[sinistral]

"Earth has some really bad food too, don't worry." Don't make it into an idea, Cal. Especially don't make it into an idea for the Agrii to overhear. The Soldier wouldn't put it past them to spice things up in the cuisine department.

But nothing stands between them and pastrami, aside from the sheer physical challenge of it. The Soldier manages to hold in the laugh, because the sandwiches truly are huge, and produces the last item from his bag: more bread.

"Best is to disassemble it. But I'm not gonna stop you from trying to eat the whole thing as is. I'm gonna laugh, but I'm not gonna stop you."

[out_of_order]

Cal laughs. "Oh, I don't doubt it. Just glad I have a chance to sample the good ones."

He eyes the sandwich, trying to figure out the best angle of attack. The Soldier saying he'll laugh if he tries to eat the thing as it is, is basically a challenge. He's hungry enough anyway, maybe he'll manage somehow. Or make a fool of himself, but thinking it over any longer will just taunt him.

"I'm going for it," he announces, wrapping his hands around the thing, already having second thoughts as he gets a hold of it, but he lifts it up, carefully peeling the wrapper away and trying not to drop its contents on BD-1 as the droid has chosen an unfortunate place to settle and watch. Now or never...! Cal brings the sandwich in and tries to take as big a bite as he can- and deciding if he tries any harder he'll sprain his jaw.

[sinistral]

"Well, I can't bring myself to betray your trust." No sense in sharing bad food if they don't have to. After all, confinement to the ships has meant protein gel; no one's in a hurry for that.

Cal has apparently decided the challenge is worth it, though the Soldier had been mostly joking. He can't hold in the chuckle at seeing the other man strain to open his mouth wide enough to actually bite into the sandwich — of the two of them, the sandwich wins the battle.

"You fought the good fight," he consoles. "The pastrami is just too strong."

[out_of_order]

Not that Cal's culinary experiences have been amazing even as a Jedi in training, even less so when he was in hiding from the Empire, but when you're suddenly traveling with a Latero pilot who likes to cook with lots of grease and salt, suddenly a whole new world is opened up.

The sandwich may win this battle, but Cal considers the fact that he's gotten a laugh from the Soldier as a solid point in his favor. He bites off what he can of the sandwich, not completely regretting his life decisions, his mouth twisting slightly at the edges in a smile even as he chews, nodding his head to concede the point.

"I gave it my best," he sighs once he swallows, letting his shoulders sink in exaggeration before he looks down at BD-1 who gives an annoyed twitter, a pickle hanging over the rim above his lenses. He doesn't look terribly amused when a laugh slips from his Jedi.