The sound of someone drinking made his attention jumped away from the circuity to the person who had come across him. His hand twitched but he stopped himself before his fingers came near the gun, recognising the man for the leader of their little squad. He looked back towards the mangled wire, but it was too late, the picture of what he had been doing had faded away and all he could see was a fragmented scattering of components. He swore at himself for a moment as the chief came close and put the bottle down in arm’s reach before he started to help.<br/><br/>“If the mottfucker melted my night eyes, I am cutting off his balls.” He wasn’t good at English, but he knew enough to get that across. He reached for the bottle and took a long swallow before putting it down again and trying to find the idea of what he wanted to do with his helmet in the static of his mind.<br/><br/>It had been easier knowing what he had needed to do when the helmet was in one whole piece - he could see the wires that fed to the wrong inputs, but now it lay in its smaller parts the idea had faded like a breath of smoke melting into air and leaving only the ghost of itself behind. Of course now he recalled why he hadn’t tried to do it himself at first - or perhaps he had and he’d gone to the mechanic to help him? He let out a frustrated sigh and picked up the bottle again, taking a longer drink.