13/08/2501: Murder At 700 Km/h.

"The 16:14 shuttle to Dampier Arch Skybridge station has arrived at gate 22. Would all passengers please proceed to the screening area. The 16:14 shuttle to Dampier Arch Skybridge station has now arrived..."

The soft voice of the announcement system rang out through Xaafun terminal over the chatter and footsteps of thousands of passengers. Most of them were heading to the Bombay terminal, and were stopping at the vast complex to eat and refuel their cars. But some were heading in a different direction, and it was only a few who turned towards the departure gate for the monorail like shuttle. A family, cloth wrapped around themselves. A nervous looking young man who kept checking the energy cell of the plasma pistol in his pocket. A sophisticated looking Indian gentleman, ensuring that his furniture would arrive safely. A pink haired Japanese woman, swinging a battered case from one hand. In all, twenty three people arrived in the stuffy lounge, scattering across the off-white chairs under the view of two UIG officers standing by the doors with guns at the ready. Underneath their masks, they followed some of the individuals with their eyes, in case trouble erupted in the lounge.

By the time the shuttle arrived at Dampier Arch, at least one of them would die.

Hearing the announcement, Mika Tendou took off her eyescreen, folding it up and slipping it into a pocket of her frilly blue dress. The new episode of Pioneers could wait anyway - the show was getting to the point of just being annoying with teasing the audience "look, Kayode's going to die, you knew he would die because he's played by Ahmed Sorensen and he always d- NOPE, he made it out of that sticky situation, who'd have thought" all season.

On arrival in the lounge, carrying her worn "briefcase", Mika took a look around at the others who'd shown up for the shuttle. Maybe one of them was another hire for Amanita. They were certainly a varied lot, but then again you're not going to get a shuttleful of generic corporate suits going to Australia, are you? The obvious suspicious standout was the person in the big sinister cloak, moreso when Mika recognised the face underneath (Pass Int+A&C by 6). She had just got around to watching some of the Australian Arenas best-of collections she'd downloaded on Wednesday, so there was no way she couldn't recognise the... distinctive visage of "Krikta, Scourge of the Arena".

With a friendly smile, she strolled up to the scaly man. "Hi! I'm sure you get this all the time, but could you sign this please?" she asked, holding out a sheet of synthpaper.

Assured that his possessions were in safe hands, the distinguished looking gentleman turned back to the room of people and the small lounge. They were not yet boarding, and it would be rude of him to stand by the door and impatiently wait like some EI agent. No. Despite his three piece suit, bright tie, metallic shoes shined so they seemed to glow, this man was nothing like those people. He took a seat and removed his flat screen PDA--his phone--and began to read something on its screen.

Across the hall, the family had also seemed to have noticed Krikta, and the child had begun pointing, the three speaking quietly and quickly to each other. Eventually one of the parents took them by the hand and began heading across the hall.

As they got closer to Tendo and Kritka however, the child had begun crying and clutching their head, struggling away from their parent and running back away from the pair of agents.

Surprised by the cries of a child, the blonde man looked up from the open toolkit in his lap, closing it with one hand and adjusting his spectacles with the other. Dr. Mendona was in the habit of looking for trouble and a frown formed when he couldn't see any. Certainly the child was not suffering from any visible, physical distress.

Kida shook his head and re-opened the toolkit checking that his shiny, new and strange tools were all still there. How long before he would get to use them? How long before he could use them well? He kept glancing up, however, switching his gaze between the family, the pair they had been approaching and the UIG officer's by the doors.

As the child began to cry, one of the UIG officers at the door snapped to attention, scanning the room, rifle at the ready. Upon finding no one actively attacking a child, he went back to a more neutral, though still obviously ready, stance. Both officers seemed nervous, although not as nervous as the man with the plasma pistol, who was currently trying to make himself look cool and confident and failing miserably. The young, punk looking couple at the back continued making out, while a trench coated woman looked up briefly and frowned at the lizardman. Her companion continued watching television on his PDA without caring. A youngish woman headed towards the family, and got into a quiet convestation with the father, while the drunk in the front row rolled over her seat, to her surprise.

Harvey, unlike the apparently restless room, seemed at ease with a child crying. Children do that. His eyes only looked up from his phone for a moment, giving the room a cursory glance, before returning to his reading.

The fight had gone well, the Spanish warrior he had faced was tough, but most things need a throat in order to live, and he didn't last long without his.But back in the present, Krikta was impatient. He could have caught an earlier shuttle, but Amanita had asked him to take this one. It meant he had to sit around in this busy terminal, but at least most people weren't paying too much attention. (pass presence stealth by 2.)

That is, until a pink haired human approached. She didn't look like much, far too weak to be a threat, and nowhere near rich enough to be important. When she opened her mouth, she proved him right, just another fan. He signed he synthpaper, hoping she would leave him alone. Fans where at their best when they were back in the distance, cheering as he disemboweled his prey, not in his face asking questions.

As he dealt with the side effects of fame, Krikta kept an eye out for what ever it was that made this shuttle important, someone who might be a target, or a contact within Amanita, and his eye was immediately drawn to the Indian man in the suit, rich people always had enemies. But then the child started crying. Krikta smiled, it was good to be feared, fear let people know their place in the world, and speaking of fear... The idiot with the plasma pistol was certainly afraid, it looked like he was expecting something, perhaps he should be given something else to worry about.... Cold reptilian eyes bored into the mans skull, and Krikta moved his hood back just enough for him to get a look at what lay beneath. (pres+ attitude pass by 12)

Having arrived at the tail end of the crowd entering the lounge, Sergei quietly walked to the edge of the room, dragging his long, black, wheeled suitcase behind him, and slowly surveyed the people arrayed before him with only a small hint of disinterest.  After sizing up the strange, hooded lizard man, the stuffy UIG guards in their unmistakable armour, the vaguely annoying crying child, the suspiciously nervous young man fiddling with something in his pocket, along with the rest of the louge's occupants, he calmly took a seat near the edge of the room furthest from the guards, drew out his PDA, and set about reading the latest online news articles.  Occasionally, his eyes would raise from the screen to scan the room once again, and his right hand never strayed too far from a small protrusion on the end of his suitcase, but otherwise the suit-clad, pale, stocky, black-haired man with the distinctive facial scar seemed completely at ease.

((Pass per + obs by 2))  Sergei noticed the direction of the lizard's gaze.  Smiling slightly to himself as the reptilian subtly displayed his intimidating features, he wondered amusedly whether it's intended recipient would notice.

The glimpse of Krikta's face had the desired effect on the man. He flinched back in his chair, before huddling his legs up to his chest, eyes darting around the room. ((people watching him, could I have a per+obs roll))

The crying child was taken back to her seat, while her father came up to the Lizardman, also holding a small piece of synthpaper. "Sorry to bother you, Mr Krikta, but...well, you're rather famous back home, and we were wondering if we could get an autograph from you. For Lis, you know." he gestured over to his daughter and wife on the otherside of the hall. Up close, Krikta could see a series of bony growths alongside the man's face, and his accent marked him as an Australian native.

At the front of the room, the drunk rolled over onto her back, idly scratching her chest as she staggered to her feet. A couple of business people pulled their feet away from her as she wandered past them.

((Per + obs = pass by 2))

"Ah, you look like a man with reasonable taste." The voice came from next to Harvey Verma and had that cultured drawl to its English that immediately marked its owner out as being from the EI territories. Or at least, very good at pretending that he was.

The voice's owner was a tall, fair haired man with a long nose and a suit woven through with shimmering green threads, who was looking over Harvey's outfit with interest. "Do you mind me asking where you found that collection?"

After receiving Krikta's autograph, Mika retreated with a grateful "thank you". She folded the piece of synthpaper neatly, taking care not to crease the autograph itself, and slipped it into a pocket as Krikta felt the need to freak out the clearly already nervous man. Not the best thing to do, was it? (Pass Perobs on the dot.) The man in question was cradling a plasma pistol, that much was clear - and from where she was sitting, more or less straight across from him, it looked like a really good one. (Botch Per+Assess Tech) Or was he just holding it in that nervous, slightly unhinged way that puts subsequent pictures of the weapon before its use in a prolific murder into the spotlight and makes it a model specimen? The curiosity was too much for Tendou - besides, it was no fun spending a whole day with a terrified gunhaver in the carriage with you. She stood up and bounced across the room, taking a seat next to him. "Hi! Nice day to travel, isn't it?" she chirped with a charming smile (Pass Pres + Looking Good by 5). "Are you setting out or going back?"

The man started slightly as Mika sat down next to him suddenly. "Just...just going out." he stammered out. He sounded slightly out of breath, despite having just been sitting down, his arms wrapped around his chest protectively. "Who...who is that?" he asked, nodding at Krikta.

((If you passed the perception observation roll, check out MoW pg 77))

Harvey looked over to the man talking to him, giving him a quick glance up and down. After a moment, a small smile spread across his face. "I must confess, it is over six seasons old. I select clothes that suit me, and sometimes I can go months without even seeing something interesting. This is a G. Breta, Late Autumn line. The others are of less interest; I would not reccomend them for your body type." He looked the man up and down again, smile still on his face.
(Pass by 13 on int+psych to assess this man's mental state and general demeanor.)

Devlin was sat across two of the white-ish seats in the lounge. He could easily fit in one, but as someone probably always said, waste not want not. Plus it was comfy putting his feet up and leaning back while he passed the time. The agent was looking up at the ceiling and fiddling idly with the open chin strap of his combat helmet. The helmet's dark grey camouflage pattern clashed with his bright turquoise shell suit, but to be honest everything clashed with his shell suit.

Some of his luggage had been sent on ahead by post and this left only his suitcase resting on the floor next to his chairs. The case was tattered and scuffed and had clearly been through at least a small war, but what really made it stand out were the large 'Warning! Do Not Touch!' stickers that covered the entire thing. One sticker had pride of place, pasted over the rest of the warnings on the side of the case; it read "Kuang Arms Concern: Affordable. Safe. Explosive."

Krikta grinned as the shaken man panicked , though anyone not used to him would find it difficult to tell, given his snout. Oh yes, he could have fun with this guy... But he was soon distracted by yet another fan approaching. This one was different, being a mutant carried a constant amount of risk, so surviving to have a family earned at least a little bit of respect. "Of coursse." he growled, signing the mans paper. And now, back to the- Krikta frowned. For a fan, the pink haired girl sure knew how to get on his bad side. He adjusted his blade launcher in it's holster, making sure the nervous man saw exactly what he was doing, while making a show of flicking out his forked tongue to taste the air. (pass presence attitude by 9)

"Oh, he's a gladiator from Australia, his name's Krikta. Kind of a big name in the arenas round there, that's probably his blade launcher he's carrying there," she explained knowingly. It was then that she realised talking about how he was a big strong scary fighter with a blade launcher that would cut off all your limbs was probably not the best way to calm somebody down, and was glad she had not mentioned the cannibalism yet. Especially given her suspicions on what else he was carrying aside from that gun. "Oh! But don't worry, pro gladiators know to keep it all in the ring. They wouldn't risk starting fights and getting their weapon licenses taken away or anything, he's just trying to be all alpha male on you." She nodded enthusiastically to emphasise her point.

"Plus" she whispered subtly (Passed Pres + L&A by 2 to do so), "I'm an agent. He starts anything, I'll keep you safe. Promise."

As Devlin lounged back, the UIG officers nodded at each other and one of them headed over to him. "What are you transporting in that?" she asked, pointing her gun barrel unmistakably at his luggage.

As Tendo informed him that she was an agent, he leaned backwards and muttered something that sounded a bit like "I knew it." After a moment he remembered his manners, and his eyes flicked up to her face. "Thanks." he said quietly.

The drunk continued to make her way to the back of the room, tripping over the couple's outstretched legs as she did so. The three business people at the front rolled their eyes, continuing to discuss furiously between each other something involving Australian shipping regulations. In the middle rows, a muscular chinese woman was cleaning parts of a large tactical weapon she had in her case. The african woman talking to the mutant family was now very deep in convestation with the young child, who had perked up upon being given an autograph and was gesturing widely, although they weren't raising their voices much.

The UIG officer cast a shadow over Devlin as he enjoyed reclining in the relative peace and quiet of the terminal lounge. The interruption made him blink and squint up at the UIG oppressor officer. "You what?" he asked, "What do you think is in there? A fucking ham sandwich?"

The fair-haired man smiled back at Harvey. As far as he could tell, the man seemed very much at ease, gaze taking in the whole scene while remaining focused on Harvey. None of what he could see seemed to bother him much, although he was flicking the occasional interested glance toward the lizardman. All in all, this seemed to be a man who was used to this kind of journey and was genuinely interested in discussing clothing with someone he met in a lounge. And also a man who was used to staying alert and paying attention to small details.

"Ah, of course - Breta!" the man exclaimed, not loudly enough to draw attention, but loudly enough to show feeling. "I should have known - the styling really is unmistakeable. You have only confirmed it - you really are a man of taste. There are few indeed who are prepared to resist the vague and troublesome winds of fashion while still retaining a modicum of respectability." He inclined his head and sighed. "I have to confess to a certain...restlessness when it comes to my attire and can only admire your steadfastness." As far as Harvey could tell - and he could tell pretty well - there was no sarcasm in his words. "Timotheus Reimund Siegel - no relation - at your service."

"Just answer the question sir." she said, levelly. Behind her, the trench coated woman who had been watching the entire room nudged her companion, and they both turned towards the officer and Devlin.

Harvey inclined his head, slightly, still smiling. "A pleasure, Mister Siegel. I am Mister Verma. Harvey, if you wish." He closed his eyes as he nodded in greeting, and then shut off his phone. He placed it in a jacket pocket. "All that matters in fashion is all that matters in life; a care for what you do. Banality is so overdone." There was some amusement in his voice at the not-quite joke. He followed the man's gaze, and looked from lizardman to UIG officer. "It's going to be an interesting ride, I feel."

Devlin did not sit up or make any effort to show even a suggestion of respect as he was questioned. When he was called 'sir' he rolled his eyes and groaned. "Fine. Fine. Inside my case I have... Let me remember this right... Oh yes. I have four flashbang grenades, which I am licensed to own and carry." he said. Here, he pretended to suddenly recall something he had forgotten to mention. "Oh, and a knock out grenade. But I mean, that's hardly worth mentioning really is it? I mean it's not like it's one of the two incendiary grenades that are in there. And don't tell the other one over there..." he said, nodding his head to the other UIG officer, "but I've got five KAC Shim Happy Throw Bombs in there as well. They were practically giving them away outside. I'd be mental not to pick up a couple of them, wouldn't I? Of course you can't put them into checked luggage. You'd be mad to do that. One bag handler gets a bit bored and throws it about a bit and fwoosh, there goes your bloody terminal. So yeah, I thought I'd bring 'em along on my person as it were, to ensure the continued safety of this shuttle service."

The agent smiled condescendingly at the UIG staff member. "Problem, officer?"

Timotheus chuckled appreciatively at Harvey's witticism and nodded toward the others. "I suspect so. But then again, one might expect that, given our destination. It is...hardly the place one looks for people of poise and sophistication, although I am told that one can find more there than one might expect, if one knows where to look." There was a note in his voice that suggested that he knew perfectly well how melodramatic he sounded and simply either didn't care or was having too much fun to stop. "Still, we all have our burdens to bear," he finished, with audible resignation. "Drink?"