Apr 02 15:27:26 109 PA - Mored Advanced Heavy Weapons, Plus Visitors

From Chronicles

Apr 02 15:27:26 109 PA.

FIRING RANGE

Bartholemew is located on the heavy weapons range outdoors. The sky lit up with the flashes of lightning here and there, but for now the rain has not come, making perfect ambiance for heavy railgun fire on half destroyed tanks and robots left to rust in the open field of the firing range.

Pavel comes into the range with more confidence than before, and his great hammer having been left home. Somewhere along the way, it rained on him as illustrated by the drops coming from his wavy hair, but he doesn't seem to mind. Just heads for the heavy range and Bartholemew for more instruction. A hand is raised in a wave, and he greets with a brief and casual, "Allo, Bahrt."

Mounted on a tripod in the area Bart waves back from is a railgun that would appear to look ready to fire pointed down the range just waiting for someone to pull the trigger to challenge the booming thunder that rumbles in the sky. "Howdy, this time you'll get to use my railgun, it's much more powerful than what the Gunnery rep had brought. You won't find a better heavy weapon in my opinion. I do have to give credit to the CS for doing something right."

"Oh. Da, Cohaleetion mehbe bahd, booht do noht meen cahnnoht mehke goohd, to." Pavel tries to settle himself into the right spot, but the simplicity of knowing where limbs go when operating a tripod can be confusing. "Ah... ees noh good, Bahrt. Cahnnoht ohnly hold, laheeke oszehrs? Mohr eesy fohr Pavel."

Bartholemew chuckles motioning to the weapon, "Go ahead, it's just easier for me to set up this way. I can use it hand held, but I still struggle with the weight and kick that way. It takes a guy like you to handle one of these by hand." He points to a screw on the tripod, "Just loosen that up there, and it should come right off."

Mechanical things, Pavel can do, and it doesn't take him long to remove the weapon. He hefts it easily, smiling. "Da, vyehry behttehr. So, sees sehm shoot as oszehrs, boot ohnly mohr hoort? So to... braheece mohr vhehn pool treegahr, da?" While awaiting an answer, he goes through a thorough - albeit extremely slow - process of making sure that the belt is seated, a round chambered, and the bolt locked. Even manages to keep from pointing the barrel in a dangerous direction while doing it. He smiles quickly. "Hahv been heer fohr prahcteece, mahny hours."

Bartholemew smiles watching him take the required safety precautions before choosing to fire, "When ready, go for it. Knock out one of those targets down there." Though unbeknownst to Pavel, the sighting has been tweaked out of position prior to class beginning to see how he reacts to the issue. Gotta be ready for anything.

Pavel does his best to line up again, though he hesitates briefly between the waist-level carry and the rifle-carry, which even for him is difficult, if only due to center-of-gravity issues. In the end, he decides to do his best to use the sights and fire from the hip. One of the cars is silently selected, and the trigger is pulled. *BRRRRRRR* A short burst out of the belt whips downrange and does a fantastic job of destroying a completely different piece of equipment. "Oh," he says, perhaps slightly confused. "Ess.. Pavel has fohrgeht sohmszeeng? Cahnnoht szeenk ohf vhaht, boot ohbveeohsly noht good." He turns to look at his instructor, eyes and ears ready to learn.

Bartholemew grins slightly to the confusion in Pavel at his targeting. "Seemed to fire ok, what's the problem? Not the target you were aiming for? Try again." crossing his arms to watch his actions on the next firing.

The smith nods and reorients. Another short burst shoots out, and once more hits the same general wrong area. Pavel gives the weapon a shake, as if perhaps that will help. A third burst goes out, and it doesn't. Finally, he decides on a different tact. The weapon is aimed very carefully, and he pulls the trigger - and keeps it pulled. *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* As the rounds fly out the muzzle and downrange like a deadly fire hose, he just walks it left so that his chosen target is eventually destroyed under a hail of high-velocity rounds. When he finally releases the trigger, his brow is partially furrowed, and the muzzle is definitely smoking. There's silence, or what stands in for it at a firing range. Turning to Bartholemew he asks, "Vhy do joo uoose vehpohn fohr shoot to raheete vhehn vhahnt to shoot lehft? Ees szees behttehr, Pavel seemply noht ohndehrstahnd?"

Bartholemew chuckles moving over to point out the sighting feature, "When your weapon is not firing where you point it, usually it's due to the sights being off. Even with a weapon such as this, your sights are important to make sure you're firing at what you want to hit. Now. Look down field using the sights, estimate the distance of your target. The small nob on the back sight, adjust that to the notch that corresponds to your estimate. The range scale on the rear sight is marked for each 100 meters from 300 to 1100 meters. It can be adjusted for zeroing. Range changes are made by using either the scale retaining/adjusting screw or elevation knob. The scale retaining/adjusting screw is used to make major adjustments in elevation. The elevation knob is used to make minor adjustments," pointing to both on the weapon to familiarize the smith.

Pavel nods along, listening and looking and the sighting mechanism. But before he brings his thick fingers down to actually use it, he can't help but ask, "So, een bahttle, ehvehry vahn veesz rehl goon ees tehk taheem fohr seht saheets laheeke szees? Vould szeenk hav to bee mohr fahst, laheeke jooseeng nohrmahl raheefle. Does noht hav taheeme fohr ahdjoost fohr shoot, ees ohnly fohr look, knov, shoot. Jees? Ohr ees fohr deefehrehnt... ah-plee-ceh-shon?" He takes his time to squeeze out that last word, as it's an unusual one for him.

Bartholemew continues to explain further on adjusting the sights, "From the rear of the weapon, the elevation knob is turned clockwise to raise the rear sight and lower the strike of the round. It is turned counterclockwise to lower the sight and raise the strike of the round. The rear sight is adjustable for windage, 5 mils right or left of the zero index line. The windage knob is on the left side of the rear sight. One click on the windage knob equals a 1-cm change in deflection or point of aim 1 cm. The windage knob is turned toward the muzzle of the weapon to move the sight and the strike of the round to the right. It is turned toward the rear to move the sight and the strike of the round to the left. By the way it fired, it will let you know how to adjust, though most of the time you would do this before actually firing the weapon so not to alert your enemy before actually being able to hit it. Once set, usually you're fine for a while, but in the battlefield you never know how the weapon may get bumped or jostled to ruin the aim. With practice you'll get it down in order to adjust quickly in the heat of the mix."

Pavel looks to Bart as he says this, and does his best to pay attention, still not sure of his question's answer. He takes a leap of faith by asking a new question, as slowly and neatly as he can manage. "Szees sound good, fohr hav mahny taheeme tehke befohr shoot. Pavel see szees. Boot, 'een heet of meex' vould noht szeenk ehveyrhohn tehke taheeme fohr eech shoot fohr uoose prohpehr saheetes, da? Mohr pehrhahps too poot saheetes strehgte, szehn prahcteece so vhehn need fohr shoot, ohnly mooscehls knov hov to aeheem?" He puts the railgun's butt gentle on the ground, leaning it againt one shoulder as he pantomimes using his normal-scale rifle. "Do noht tehke taheeme fohr eech shoot. Mehke saheetes strehgte, look fohr tahrgyeht - knov vhehr shoot. Ees noht taheeme fohr uoose ahl szees.. ah.. ah.." He eventually can only fumble for the words of 'dial', 'windage' and 'elevation.'

Bartholemew pays attention to the adjustments in sighting the weapon, "Normally you're not going to have to do this every time, but it can be knocked out of position unexpectedly. The sights are used more when mounted as most can't lift the weapon to aim properly anyways." Once he seems satisfied that Pavel has corrected the intentional malfunction, "Ok, try hitting the target of your choice out there now. You should do much better now, but also try this. Heft the weapon under your arm a bit more to steady the weapon a better, or hold it more down, firing from the hip. The hip firing works better if you use the strap over your shoulder, let the weight of the weapon rest fully on the strap, just guide the muzzle in the direction you're looking to fire, the butt resting up against your hip and leg. Try both to see which is more comfortable for you."

The big smith is once again frustrated, but is at least mildly appeased when the sights are simply leveled. Pavel nods and lifts the weapon a few times like it's a plastic toy, holding it in both positions for a while as instructed. Eventually, even before frowning he looks back to his instructor. "Szeenk noht frohm heep. Vehst boolehts, spreh laheeke hohs, noht shoot fohr tahrgeht." That being said, he lifts it into the arm-carry position and sights it with the simple fixed iron sights. One burst goes rather wild, a second walks closer to his new target, and then he has to stop, the belt running out. "Sohrry. Ees mohr behlts?" He looks around, but doesn't take the actual chance of seizing rounds that aren't meant to be fired.

Bartholemew points over to another two drums of practice rounds setting nearby, "Go ahead and load up again. Let's see how fast you can get it done and hit your next target. That one way down the field there," pointing down field about half range of the weapon at half an old robot sticking out of a crater. "Any questions so far?"

Pavel does his best to load as quickly as he can. His first effort is *almost* too quickly, as the round barely slips in without being jammed in the breech. He grimaces at the weapon, but it's clear that he's been practicing. With everything seated properly, the muzzle is lined up on the target - a new target - and then he tries something different. He tries to reflexively feel the shot rather than taking time to line it up. *BRRRR* goes a short burst, and while it's nowhere near being perfect, he does snip off the top half of what remains of the robot's head. That makes him happy though, as he spins to look at his teacher. "Good? Fohr een bahttehl? Beeg bahttehl, noht taheeme fohr aehm?"

Bartholemew nods to his question, happy to see he hit the target, it was a kill shot, "Exactly, in battle things will happen fast, though don't discount aiming. Even under fire, an aimed shot can be much more lethal than a spray of heavy weapons fire. The more you take the time to aim, the less adjustment or weapon movement is needed to hit.""

Pavel nods again, then turns back to the range and the insulting robot pieces. Bartholemew's railgun - of unknown make to the smith - is tucked beneath his shoulder, and he takes a long, deliberate time to aim. A long time. Then *BRRRRRRRRRRRRR* A long pull of the trigger sends rounds downrange once more. Again, the first few nip off the top of the 'bot's remains, but the rest go high and above the target, eventually smashing into a random spot on the ground a good distance down the range. The smith frowns, and with his lips quirked to one side, shrugs at his instructor. "Deed tehke taheeme fohr shoot. Aehm. Noht heet vyehry good, no?"

Bartholemew grins, "Ok, you see how your shots are going high over the head of your aim. Adjust your elevation on the sight a bit more. Remember, clockwise will lower the shot on the target, counterclockwise will raise where the shot will hit. Four clicks will adjust by a centimeter, you look like you're off by maybe two centimeters in your targeting."

With a shake of his head, Pavel indicates that he believes differently, though he doesn't know what the precise problem is. "No, shoot vahs good. Aehm, good. Saheetes, good. Bahrt sav, da? Fohrst shoot vas heet! Boot szehn, noh mohr. Keep shoot, deed noht heet. Vas noht saheete prohblehm. Vhahtch, Pavel trahee sehm." Indeed, he does. Takes his time to line up the shot, very deliberately. Keeps breathing normally, then *BRRRRRRRRRRR* comes out another burst. Once more, the first rounds are on target, the rest flying high. He turns, somewhat frustrated. "See? Ees good aehm. Noht aehm prohblehm. Sohmszeeng ehlse, boot do noht knov vhaht ees."

Bartholemew nods as he watches the smith fire once again, "I know it may feel comfortable to hold the weapon like a rifle for you, but it is not a rifle and fires much differently. You have to compensate for the recoil that will cause the muzzle to raise up. Even slightly, it will throw your rounds off course from the target. Work on keeping the muzzle down during the spray. When you aim, try aiming a bit low to compensate for the upward momentum. I know your strong as all hell, but even for you the recoil is going to have to get used to. Keep trying, and try to feel the movement and compensate. "

Nodding, Pavel seems to accept that as a more realistic explanation. "Ees laheeke heet hahmmehr. Heet vahn pahrt, oszehr pahrt veel trahee fohr raheese." He then pulls the weapon up again, and takes aim, just as slowly and deliberately as before. A long moment of silence passes, which is suddenly broken by another, *BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* as he holds the trigger down. The first rounds impact low, as instructed; and as explained, the muzzle rises. However, he is able to compensate this time quickly enough so that most of the rounds remain on the robot long enough to shred it into piece of metal so small that even he wouldn't waste his time with them. Eventually, muzzle smoking, he turns to Bahrt. "Vyehry mohr good!" However, he then grips the weapon by its butt and by what can only be an extremely hot end of the muzzle, holding it vertically. "Cahn see, vyehry hoort. Mehbe noht ahlvehs vahnt so mooch hoohrt? Cahn do ehlse? Ohr ohnly beeg hohrt vhehn aeheemed?"

Bartholemew tilts his head a bit, not quite catching the last bit of what the big man says or asks, "I'm sorry, I'm not quite catching the question. An ya prolly shouldn't hold that muzzle like that, most would burn themselves, but much better this time."

"Hmm?" Pavel leans forward, questioning, then looks up at his hand. One that he doesn't seem to be bothered by, but moves lower anyway. "Good?" He attempts to slow down his speech and be as accurate as he can. "Vhehn pool treegahr - mahny boolehts. Beeg hoohrt. Mohr treegahr, mohr hoohrt. Ohnly see beeg hohrt. Szeenk noht ahl need so beeg hoohrt? Hov cahn mehke, ah.. smahlehr beeg hohrt? Laheeke noht vahnt to keel daheenosohr veesz mahny boolehts, ohnly vahnt to hoohrt pahrt of daheenosohr. Szees behttehr ehxplehne?"

Bartholemew nods understanding the question now, "Ahh, ok, to fire off a single round you need to pull the trigger a little less. It's meant to be fully automatic, but if you're gentle, you can fire off a single round. Lift the weapon to fire, as you're pulling the trigger, do it slowly to feel the point where it fires and release, don't hold it down, should only be about a half pull on the trigger. In my opinion, if your looking for a single shot, you go with a standard rifle, though if you need the range it is still possible with this weapon, just takes getting the feel for it."

"Ah," Pavel says with a nod of his head. He turns the weapon back properly to look at the trigger mechanism, then takes up another beneath-the-arm stance. He's getting faster at aiming, as is evident this time around. It's not exactly one round, but it's only a few. A second attempt is even fewer. Then a single shot. Then back to just a handful of rounds. He stops and lets the weapon go slack. "Cahn see. Veel tehke taheeme fohr feengehr to gyeht good feel fohr pool, veel prahcteece aholohne, so noht tehke Barht's taheeme. Ees mohr?" He looks to his teacher hopefully.

Bartholemew smiles, "I think you have the basics of firing and loading the weapon, the next lesson will be maintenance. You need to keep your weapons in top working order. Especially after long periods of firing, but we can do that next time, right now, work on getting the feel for the weapon during firing. A little trick to getting off a single shot each time, try flicking the trigger instead, like strumming the string of a guitar."

Pavel's lips work at the musical analogy, and can offer only, "Has seen Anya pleh geetahr. Noht do syehlf, szoh. Boot veel trahee." He makes sure that the belt is set again, then takes aim. It's pretty bad, but at least he's not doing the 'windmill' like the rockers do to abuse their guitars on stage. Neither does he set the weapon on fire or try to pull the trigger with his teeth. After a while, though, he gets it down pretty well. It's at that point that he goes into one likely overly-long *BRRRRRRRRRRRR* that burns out the rest of the belt, leaving smoke rising from a visibly hot barrel. At this point, teeth show. "Veel keep vohrkeeng. Ohnly vohndehered, szoh. Bahrt prohbahbly raheete szaht ees noht nehcehssehry fohr ohnly smahl hoohrt. Veel uoose beeg hohrt, boot ees good fohr hahv een hehd, da?"

Bartholemew nods, "Yes. Always good to know all the uses and abilities of your weapon. Speakin a which, have you decided on which model you like? This model is not something you will find on the market, I got that one from a dead deadboy. Bout the only way I know you can find one."

Pavel asks humorously, "Cahn faheend oszehr? No, no." He does his best to clean the weapon before handing it back to Bartholemew. He doesn't know how to clean a firearm, but detailed cleaning for his own creations gives him a slight leg-up over other competitors. "Took cahtahlohg hohm, took Anya hohm. She rheehd fohr me. Beeg vehpohn frohm Sousz Ahmehreeca, ees vhaht szeenk behst. Cohst noht prohblehm fohr vehpohn, cohst noht prohblem fohr boolehts, becauhse veel noht prohahbly joos vyehry ofhten. Boot poot ohn *vyehry* beeg hohrt. Rohckehts. Ahlso shoot vood, good fohr vahmpeer." He pauses, then asks, "Bahrt has hehrd of?"

Bartholemew shakes his head, "I am more familiar with the weapons of this area, I haven't seen too many outside the area. Usually too expensive to load. My weapons are used much more often. If I stumble across another like this one, I'll be sure to give you a shot at purchase if interested, or trade for some future work. Wood rounds are nice, but I still think water is the best for vampire hunting, cheap and generally plentiful round here."

"Ees fohrest noht vood?" Pavel smirks? Clearly he knows it's not the same. "Beeg hahmmehr, beeg hohrt. Trahee noht to need fohr vahmpeer. Eef go fohr daheenohsohr hoot ahgain? Prohbahblee ahsk laheek befohr, uoose ohszehr. Ohnly eef fohr need kyeel strohng, bahnd peepohl, vould uoose. Lehrneeng fohr ohnly spehceahl pohrpohrs."

Bartholemew gives a gesture over to the tripod, "Go ahead and remount the weapon for now. railguns are usually meant for heavy targets, like vehicles and robots, not for ground troops. A rifle is more effective and less costly. It's always good to have a variety of choices when it comes to battle. Railgun for the initial charge, rifle for closer ranged fighting, the hammer for when they finally get up on you if they were even able in the first place. If things work out, they will never get that close. Any other questions so far?"

Max arrives a bit late to the party, but he's here for himself. Running into Pavel and Bart is just a pleasant surprise. He approaches from behind, calling out to them to avoid startling them. "Hey guys, how's it going?"

"Noh, szahnk joo," Pavel says. It takes him a while to put the weapon back, but only because he's being delicate about it. His fingers still know where to go on a mechanism. "Veel keep prahcteece, mahny befohr Bahrt tehke taheeme fohr hyehlp deehrehctly ahgehn. Vould be behst eef noh vehpohn ehvehr need, da? Noht rhehl goon, ohr raheefehl, ohr hahmmehr." It's later in the evening, and the rain has been sporadic. Bartholemew and Pavel are downrange at one of the heavy weapons lanes. The smith looks to the new voice. "Allo, Mahx. Ees good?"

Bartholemew shoots a wave to Max as he approaches while answering Pavel, "Yeah, would be nice if they weren’t needed, but unfortunately there are many dangers outside the city that requires it. Hell even in the city, it helps to stay armed and dangerous, just a bit trickier to pull off."

Max only grins at Bart's comments, keeping his two cents in his pocket as it were. But he doesn't catch what Pavel asks him, nodding. "I'm good Pavel.. what you guys up to out here? Nothing too terribly destructive I hope.." He says, turning his gaze on Bart again. "I have a final list of things I need when you're done."

Aya approaches the weapon practice and testing area dressed in her cloak and using a metallic staff as a travel aid. This length of metal is different than what she carries in the city; longer and less uniformly cylindrical.

Once he's satisfied that he has returned his instructor's weapon back to its mount, Pavel stands, only to thank Bartholemew once more for his time. "Gehtteeng byettehr!" He waves and smiles at Max, though he speaks to the incoming Aya, first. "Allo, Aya, dobryj vyechyer! Cohm fohr prahcteece veesz johr lahnce? Stahf noht good fohr shoot, Pavel szeenk."

Bartholemew smiles happily to Max, "Perfect, that didn't take long to come up with. So what's the damage going to be?" Catching sight of Aya he shoots a wave her way as she approaches.

Max shakes his head. "Between eleven and twenty thousand... not too too bad, considering what I need. I have the list here.." He says pushing a small list into Bart's hands as soon as he can. He turns to Pavel though, and eyes the railgun. "Bit bulky for me.. but I prefer not to fight at all. " He comments on it.

"Yes," Ava answers Pavel when she walks near, "To be confident that my weapon and I are prepared. Ranged combat does not require a sparring partner; any moving target is enough."

Pavel nods. "Szees vhaht Pavel seh, Mahx, da. Noht faheete, behst faheete." As Bartholemew and Max seem to be in a transaction, he moves off to the woman. As he approaches, he holds up a hand, palm towards himself, as if blocking out her face. Then before his own eyes. Then slowly passes it up and down, ignoring for the moment the slightly pointed weapon. "Cahn ahsk Aya qvestion of mehbe pehrsohnal ahnd praheevaht?"

The weapon on the tripod, for those that know weapons of this type, might notice that it is a similar model to the CS railgun line, though there are some differences that make a person wonder if it really is a CS model and not something else. Not many have the new model of the CS railgun, even CS troops might not recognize the new Coalition weapon. Bart takes the list and glances over it, "This is workable. Should be able to pick this up in a few days for ya, unless you wanna just swing by for the credits and pick it up yourself. I think you said you're a navigator as well? I could be thinking of another though."

Max nods to his employer. "I can navigate.. I'm not especially talented with it.. but I can," he tells the man waving off the picking up the credits. "My participation is contingent on you providing the equipment. So.. just let me know when it's in. Besides It'll probably have to chill in Tek's truck with me an him, some of it is rather bulky." He notes.

"What is wrong with your hand?" Aya asks Pavel. "You can ask any question of anyone, but they may not answer." She leaves the other too men to discuss their equipment arrangements as they do not involve her.

Bartholemew nods understanding, "Good enough, will call you when I have it in hand. Sooner the better too, I need that listening to start ASAP. Until then, I have a field radio and an average computer that you might be able to work with until the other equipment comes in. Unless you need that Dihalator thingy first. Not sure if you can do what's needed with what I have already."

After finally removing his hand from before his face and putting it back at his side, Pavel takes a few steps closer to Aya, basically separating himself from the other conversation and thus officially ending his lesson. "Vould knov, hov ees szaht Aya vahlk, faheete vees szeeng een frohnt of eyes? Mahcheene, hyelp Aya see becauhse eyes noh good? I do vees hand to chehk - cahnnoht see szrough hahnd."

Max nods as well. "Sounds good Bart. I'll be waiting for you call. I'll try that field radio and computer, see if they'll work for what I need. I might be able to come up with a way to link the two and generate static over an open line. Strong enough to overpower other transmission. They'll get each other's transmission.. just all they'll hear is static." He says before turning his attentions to Aya and Pavel. "So.. Aya, you said you are a warrior? And a psychic? If you don't mind my asking, what powers do you have? I ask because it'll be nice to know each other's capabilities."

Aya shakes her head in answer. "No. It is not a machine. It only protects my eyes. Many wear similar items." She lifts a hand to remove the visor and pulls it from the hood to display it. Aside from the fact that it is a single piece, it is no more advanced than a pair of sunglasses. After she dons it again, her head and hood turn towards Max. "Yes, I am both. My abilities are sensory. They aid me to be a better warrior."

Bartholemew nods to Max, "Swing by the apartment and pick up the computer and radio, hopefully it will be enough for listening purposes until we leave for Arcadia and Tolkeen. I still need to know what goes on with Marcel." With the others chatting with Aya for the moment, he goes over to break down his weapon and tripod so it is ready when he departs. "Hey Aya, I think we're going to have to have our sparring match another time. I had forgotten about my class here when I asked. You'll get your chance to see how fast you can be. I'm curious about the answer to that myself."

Max nods to Bart at his instructions but it seems all eyes are now on Aya. "Really.. intuitive combat? I'd love to know. " He tells her probing just a little more of the warrior woman.

As for Pavel, he is sometimes very boisterous, and sometimes quiet. This time around, he's quiet, allowing the other men to make their statements and questions; particularly Max. After having inspected Aya's visor when she showed it out of her hood, his first words are an apology. "Oh. Vyehry sohry. Szought vahs mehtahl, could noht oondehrstahnd hov vould see szrough mehtahl. Evehn Pavel cahnnohnt do szees, ahnd vyehry good veesz mehtahls. Ohnly ees... hov ees seh?" He stops and considers, looking for the right word, and attempting to pronounce it correctly. "Soonglahces." For now, if he has interest in the psychic part that she herself did not mention, he keeps it to himself.

"Whenever you are ready, Bartholemew," Aya nods in his direction. "I do not understand," is her reply to Max, indicated by her head turning towards. "Intuitive?"

Max smiles, his knowledge coming in handy for once. "Intuitive combat.. Basically you take a few moments to focus yourself and your power through your body and you react fast, move quicker. More accurate. I can't do it, but I know several people who can, they're amazing fighter. The power of the mind augmenting the power of the body. Like natural crazies."

Bartholemew takes a bit longer than it takes the musclebound Pavel to break down the weapon setup, by this point only having the empty drum of practice rounds detached. A simple nod to Aya.

There's a moment of humor when Pavel goes to rest his hands on the huge hammer that he momentarily forgot that he had not brought along for a railgun lesson and fell slightly off balance. Then, however, he steps away to go and help Bartholemew, leaving Aya to her privacy. Even though he can't help but be curious and occasionally look back to the apparent warrior-woman and Max.

Aya listens and absorbs his explanation before more accurately answering, "No, I do not possess that ability. I receive warnings of dangers, and can sense others. My abilities are secondary to my combat training."

Max listens to Aya's explanation. "Oh.. Sixth sense. Yeah I can't do that either. I can see how it'd be useful in a fight." He acknowledges. Now that he's very definitely going on this little trip he's trying to get all the info he can on everyone he can, to build something of a database which he can draw from to help with tactics.. Part of his 'tech guy' duties.

Bartholemew continues to finish breaking down the tripod set up, Pavel's help making it go much easier, "If ya don't mind dropping those three drums off at the front office, would be a big help." If not for the sheer weight of the weapon, this would be a piece of cake otherwise, though now, without the extra weight of the ammo, the weapon is quite easily slung over one shoulder and the tripod folded and lifted in his arms "Well folks, I will catch you all later. Thanks for the help Pavel."

"Da, veel poot aht frohnt," Pavel promises Bartholemew, picking up the three drums. At first they're awkward, only because he has two arms but three items to carry, but after a little shifting, the manages them easily enough. Even follows Bartholemew as far as the front desk to drop his gear before returning slowly to where Aya and Max are still in their own discussion.

"Sixth Sense?" Aya is again confused... for a few moments. "Yes, it is another sense. I do not make titles, only use what I possess."

Max grins, then shakes his head. " It's a name for that particular mental gift. You just know when people are there, when you're in danger. You just know. So they call it the sixth sense. My talents are a bit more showy, but you already know that."

Pavel comments in agreement with Aya to Max, "Vhaht cahn do, dohs noht hav nehm. Boot steel rheahl szeeng cahn do. Noht laheeke vehpohn ohr taheepe of eeqveepmehnt vhehr cahn seh, 'Pavel ees joos knaheefe' ohr 'Pavel ees joos hahmmehr.'" He shakes his head, adding, "Vould noht oohndehrstahnd eef peehpohl vehr geeve nehm, ahsk fohr do. Noht geeve nehm fohr vhaht Max do. Ees joost... do." Aya receives another small nod to show that he is in harmony with her own confusion.

Aya nods towards Max. "Yes. You can burn paper with fire, and repair equipment?" She is not entirely certain on the second, but thinks that that is his role in the upcoming journey. "You are a smith, Pavel, and a talented one."

Max busts out laughing, to Aya's estimation of their talents. He's rather sure Pavel is more than he seems, bad English and accent or not. As for his abilities well.. " Burning paper is someone anything can do with a piece of paper and a struck match. I'm a Burster, Aya.." He corrects, or thinks he does, not knowing the name means nearly nothing to the woman. Or to Pavel for that matter. "But yes, I'm going for the radio and stuff like that, not to fight."

The smith dips his head low, and his personality is beginning to become more boisterous, coming out of the seriousness of a lesson on how to use devastating heavy weapons. "Spaseeba!" he responds to Aya. "Pavel trahees to vohrk good, ahlvehs vohrk hahrd. So Svarog tyehl to do." Indeed, the term 'Burster' seems to show little meaning in his eyes, though the announcement of burning paper clearly comes to equally anti-surprise. His own personal interests lie outside the realm of technology and psychic powers, and thus he asks a conventional question of the woman. "Aya has found plaheece fohr sehf sleep? Noht een ceety - bosz ahgree ceety noht good, da? Aht leest, eensaheede vahls."

"Burster?" The name is, indeed, unfamiliar to her. "I only know what you can do by what I witness. Burn paper you did. Yes, Pavel. I stay where I have stayed when I found the city. It is safe enough."

Max nods. "I see. Well maybe you'll get to witness more. No need for now." He says but leaves them to their conversation, mumbling to himself about how people don't know the word Burster.. pretty common name.

Shrugging the issue away, as it apparently doesn't impact his life, Pavel turns to other matters. "Pavel ees stohp Aya frohm hehr prahcteece? Ohr cahn tahlk mohr? Ahm vohndehreeng ahbouvt rehfyoogees. Mahn seh he noht ehvehr szeenk to peh mohney oved. Couvld be vyehry bahd fohr peepohl, boot Pavel cahnnoht szeenk hov to hehlp."

Aya approaches the firing line now that there is more room and fewer distractions. Pavel's reminder could also have assisted. "I can speak and aim at the same time. Did the refugees not leave?" She lifts her staff-like weapon and lowers the pointed end to point downrange. An energy bolt is loosed at a target while she awaits a response.

Pavel stands back a good distance to give Aya her space to practice. "Sohm go, da. Nohrmahl, go bahk hohm to ceety een nohrsz. Boot oszehrs steh. Nev peepohl frohm 'Drehgs cohm to steh. Boot vohrry ees mahn vho tyehl peepohl vhaht to do." After a brief hesitation, he clarifies, "Mahn seh to faheete. Brehk prohmeese of peh, nehvehr deed go to peh, ohnly vahs... vahs lahee, Pavel seh. Noht good. Mahny peepohl hoohrt, sahd, dahee. Fohr brehk prohmeese, seh gyeht rhehdy fohr faheete seence peepohl cohm to Keengsdehl." Holding out a hand, he says, "Noht fohr seh gehng good. Boot eef geeve prohmeese... seh geeve prohmeese, ahnd peepohl noht dahee. Dohs Aya knov hov to hyehlp? Ohr aheedeeah?"

Another shot is fired as Aya listens, and a second as she attempts to digest what she hears. "The ones that stay have a leader that wants them to fight? For wealth?"

Pavel watches Aya's shots with interest, enough to comment on them. "Hav seen mehge do laheetneeng een Fehdehrehtion. Boot noht frohm vehpohn laheeke szaht. Moost be vyehry spehciahl. Aya deed mehke forh sehlf?" Still, he doesn't wait too long to answer the woman's question. He crosses his large arms across his chest - he's a smith, they can't help but be large - and answers, "Da, mahn vho seh faheete. Seh gehng noht fehr vhehn cohntrahct saheegned. Eef sohmvahn do szees to Pavel cohntrahct, vould be noht hahppy veesz szees pehrsohn. Szeenk gehng ahlso feel laheeke szees. Fehr? Do noht knov. Faheete? Yes. Mahn ees rhehdy to seh, 'peepohl, go faheete.' Szeenk hees plece laheeke, laheeke... cahstehl? Ees raheeght vohrd?"

"You do not like this? Why?" Aya raises the tip of her weapon and returns to a safe stance. Her head turns towards Pavel. "No, I did not make the weapon, but salvaged it from a battlefield."

"Peepohl dahee, vhehn noht need fohr dahee," Pavel explains simply. "Fohr ohnly vhaht Pavel szeenk ees vahn mahn's praheede." That may or may not have been the question, but that's his answer. Still, at the mention of salvaging such a weapon, it draws the smith's eye.

Aya cants her head to the left. "If the leader is weak or foolish, he should be replaced. That will spare lives."

"He ees strohng, noht veek. Vyehry strohng. Mehbe has cohnveenced fohr peepohl szeenk good fohr faheete. Do noht knov. Szees ees ahl Pavel knov. Deed go veesz Tehk for speek." Pavel shrugs sadly, then looks around at the depleting firing line. "Sound laheeke Aya ahlrhehdy has prohblehms. Ahrcehdeea? Tohlkeen? Fohr faheete, da? Mehbe een fyootohr, Pavel cohm fohr szees, boot nov, ohnly be noht hyehlp."