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

Sergei continued to sit quietly, watching events unfold before him. He mused over his observations of the nervous man as the pink-haired lady muttered something to him, toying with the idea of giving a UIG officer a nudge... but no. Thinking back to his own past, a feeling of sympathy arose for the man; thoughts about making one's way in a world thoroughly tipped against you swam through his mind, and Sergei quietly went back to his articles. Of course, he kept an eye out for further developments; a nervous man with a plasma pistol is a potentially volatile combination, after all.

Following the movement of the officer as she crossed the room, Sergei's eyes rested upon the horribly dressed man lounging across his two chairs. Involuntarily, his eyebrows shot towards the top of his head as the words 'Kuang Arms Concern' and 'explosive' caught his attention; he made a mental note not to sit too close to that lunatic.

Harvey nodded, though added, "Though it does depend. Anything worth drinking deserves a glass." He patted his briefcase, suggesting that he perhaps kept one in there. He gave another glance around the room, where the man was detailing his explosives. "Sophistication can brought and grown as well, and made. It was be an interesting experience. The AFS will be a new one for me."

The lady in the faded red hoody and jeans appeared to be attempting to rest, her eyes lightly closed. The hood pulled up over her head, and a deep red tattoo contrasted her dark skin, stretching down from her left temple towards the curl of her mouth. With a small smile and her eyes closed, she appeared to be in a place of pure contentment.

A fly landed on her nose. No sooner had it touched her then a flash of silver shot the air and stabbed the fly clean through, pinning it to the wall.

Her eyes never opened.

"It's fine, it's nothing," Mika responded, hugging her briefcase tight on her lap. She looked away for a moment, giving a friendly smile to Krikta before turning back to her new friend. "I'm Mika, btw. You?"

Krikta glared at the pink haired "fan", thanks to her, he would have to find some other entertainment for this trip. Which was fortunate, because at that moment his new employer decided to speak up, hopefully to explain what he was doing here. The only person I've killed recently was in the Arena, and I haven't seen anyone die since. So tell me, what is so special about this particular shuttle?

"Well, we know it contains a lot of agents." Verma's voice was gently accented over the smeaker, but he didn't look over at Krikta. Instead he looked over the man sitting next to him, still waiting for him to produce alcohol, and perhaps glasses. "What was in said package? Does it have a particular appearance?"

Devlin had just received the comm message from Jon and was obviously surprised by it. He sat upright, clipping his helmet in place on his head. As he listened to the message he put up his hand to the UIG officer and held up a finger in the universal gesture of 'hang on a moment, I have something important to do before you continue.'

"Weren't me. I'm way too busy talking with this nonce of a policeman to do someone in. I'll keep my eyes open for that metal box though, bruv." he said into his smeaker, perhaps a little louder than was strictly necessary.

From across the room, Mister Verma frowned, apparently to himself. He couldn't help but seem a tiny bit disappointed.

"I've not been there much myself," Timotheus said, not reacting to anything being said over smeaker. Probably meant that he wasn't listening to what Harvey could hear and therefore wasn't Amanita. "Just a couple of quick stopovers. But this time I'm heading in for the long haul."

He began rummaging in his pockets and a couple of seconds later, pulled out what looked to be a couple of glass cubes with a switch on them. "Here we go," he said, and pressed the switches. With a quiet popping noise, the cubes unfolded themselves into a pair of drinking glasses, the switch artfully concealed on the bottom. "I quite agree, anything worth drinking is worth drinking from a proper glass," he said, pulling a flask out from another pocket and pouring a generous measure into each glass.

"Indeed." Harvey took his glass and held it out for Timotheus, still smiling a little. He gave his new drinking partner a look, and then glanced over at the crowd, narrowing down his co-workers. Hm. "I could say the same thing about my trip to the AFS as well. An adventure." When the alcohol was poured, he pulled it closer to him and swirling it in the glass, before giving it a deep sniff. The man with the gun, next to the Yukiro girl, hmmm..

As the word's "Kac Shim" were uttered, the officer took a step back. As the words "Happy Throw Bombs" followed them, she took even more steps back. The trenchcoated woman stared at Devlin, and began reaching into her coat pocket. Across the hall, the other officer tilted his head in the universal "I'm on the radio, don't bother me" symbol, before also moving up towards Devlin...

---

"Saalax." said the plasma pistol holder, still huddled in his seat, glancing around. "Are...are all the others with you?" he asked, glancing towards the on going dispute in the middle of the room. "The agents, I mean?"

There was a flopping noise on the other side of Tendo, and the drunk woman from the front of the room was next to her, peering at her face as if trying to decypher something. "Youuuuuu'reeee weirddddd." she said, words clearly slurring.

---

The man took the autograph back, clearly slightly nervous about being near the gladiator, but still  somewhat excited. "So, are you heading back to Tasman or..." he trailed off, realising he didn't actually have any idea what Krikta did other than kill people messily in arenas. "Umm...would you like a drink?" he finished, awkwardly

---

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to remove those from your lugga..." started one of the officers, and stopped as from under the seat came a flash of purple light and the smell of ozone. A hand lazily rolled out from under one of Devlin's seats, holding onto a stabilised case. "If I give you guys this to put them in, will you all shut the fuck up?" came a bored sounding woman's voice from under the chair.

"This is agent Orolev. There just so happens to be a man sat in here who just so happens to be holding a nice looking little plasma pistol. He also would appear to be displaying all the signs of the recent addition of an internal crystal weave compartment, plus a decent dose of nerves." Sergei calmly turned off his PDA and slipped it into his pocket. He uncrossed and recrossed his legs, and appeared to watch the unfolding KAC crisis with interest (and some concern). "Any specific instructions?"

"No." The gladiator replied, obviously focused on something else. That something being the man he had been tormenting, and how the nervousness could explained by having just murdered someone. Most humans didn't have much of a stomach for violence. How much plasma? Cause I may have found the one that did it. And just how many people were supposed to meet here?

"Hold on...just let me..." came Jon's voice, sounding like he was distracted by something even over smeaker. "The bolt hasn't travelled through him, but the wounds are a bit weird, and there's signs of telepathic discharges around the area I found him..."

"Maybe some, maybe not. It's hard to tell how many people in the room are agents, and I don't know who my team are," Mika replied quietly as she could. Krikta of all people was with Amanita? Krikta, Scourge Of The Arena? He didn't exactly have the profile she expected of an assassin, but she couldn't deny he was really good at what he did and it was great that she got a chance to work alongside him. A gladiator, an explosives... expert, she assumed, and... some other people she hadn't met or noticed yet. Exciting!

Less exciting, though, was the prospect that she might have to kill Saalax. She'd do it, of course, no questions asked beyond sufficient evidence, but she'd already decided he was a friend so it would be nice if it was someone else. And he would make the perfect dummy for the actual perpetrator, if they'd planned this out enough. Then he'd probably think he was just being used as a drug mule until agents bore down on him... But, of course, it was far simpler to just conclude that he was the target - until Jon mentioned the nature of the wounding. "There's at least five of us, it turns out. That doesn't sound like a plasma pistol at all, more likely to be straight-up telepathic murder. Some telepaths attack with plasma or fire or other things like that, and those kind of anomalies are uncommon enough that I can't see a murderer faking that as their cover to get away without the kind of investigation that'd reveal crystalweave. tl;dr he's either been planted to throw us off and maybe smuggle too or just a wrong-place-wrong time guy."

Having spoken up to her new comrades, Mika turned to address the drunkard, taking no apparent offence from the comment. "I guess I am, but I like to think it makes me interesting. We can't all be the same, right?" It was, of course, entirely possible that Saalax was a telepath, and the telepathic discharge was from other effects caused as he killed Dead Target. There was only one way to really be sure - well, okay, there were other ways, but there was one way that was more convenient, subtle, and generally viable for the situation. As she adjusted herself in her seat again, she brushed against Saalax in a way that was clearly intentional-but-attempting-to-hide-it on her part (failed Pres+L&A by 4) - if he was a telepath, hopefully he'd react to contact with a void in that distinct kind of way they tended to. (Failed Void roll, if he's under more than one telepathic effect then time for GM rolls in secret against Conviction 2 for the others?)

Kida had glanced up with apprehension at the approach of the UIG officer but sighed with relief when she addressed the... helmeted individual instead. That relief had been short lived and Dr. Mendona sealed his toolkit before circumspectly standing up and ambling to the back of the room. [Fail Presence + Stealth by 5.] Or attempting to, at least. Dr. Mendona was clearly distracted as he walked, looking this way and that, attempting to pin faces to smeakered voices. So much for this cloak and dagger stuff.

Finally reaching the back of the room, Kida leaned against the wall and closed his eyes to think. Jon was not only within smeaker range, he had used an ambiguous turn of phrase for their intended interaction with their would be contact. Either they were being tested, another agency wanted the computer components as badly or... Or another group caught wind of their test and had turned the tables.

The doctor drummed his fingers against his toolkit and chose his words with care. He was about address a professional killer after all, as well as at least four others, if indirectly. "That's a keen insight, however if I may add another possibility. The man is bait, rather than misdirection and someone here is watching for those who take an interest in him. What would you do if you found out that six new assassins would all be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same person?"

As the woman went on about telepathics, Krikta easily managed to figure out who it was. You? You're a hired killer? Maybe Amanita's standards weren't as high as he had expected. The other Agent that spoke up seemed to have a good point though So if someone is waiting to ambush us, where would they be? And who would be dumb enough to take on 6 Agents?

The Gladiator turned Assassin turned back the the mutant man, a little surprised that he hadn't gone back to his family. "I won't be going back to Tassmania right away. There is businesss I must take care of first."

"Ah. Of course. I'm sure someone like you is always busy." said the father, stepping back slightly. "I'll just...go back over there." he said awkwardly as he pointed and turned back towards him family. His child, Liz, was now levitating a small orb of light around her fingers, grinning happily.

---

Saalax didn't appear to make any of the standard telepath reactions to a void sitting next to him, but rather the standard human reaction to an agent stumbling against him in an obvious manner, which was to shrink back and attempt to merge with his seat.

The drunk, meanwhile, seemed slightly surprised at Tendo's cheery reaction, but quickly recovered and swung her arm around the agent. "YEAH! You know what I'm saying!" she shouted, even as slight look crossed her face. Perhaps the booze was hitting her harder than she thought, or perhaps it was a trick of the light. (Psychology roll for people watching)

---

The punk couple had stopped making out, and were now watching was going on with Devlin with interest. One of them was mumbling "Fuck the pigs". Meanwhile the woman under the chair pulled herself out of the other side, straightening up and brushing herself off as she did so. "Well?" she asked, as if speaking to a class room of naughty children. "Take it, somebody, before this idiot gets us all killed." She was thin, in a sharp suit with north African features.

"Why were you under there?" asked the female officer, looking as puzxzled as one could under a full face covering helmet.

"I dropped something." came the imperious reply. A sharp eyed watched may have seen her drop some metallic looking into her pocket. "Now, is one of you going to take this?"

"Sure thing! I'll have that. Nice piece of kit that. Always wanted one of course, but bombs cost money, right?" said Devlin with startling speed. He was clearly not someone to look a gift horse in the mouth... Even if the horse had just teleported in under mysterious circumstances and was doubtless up to something.

The agent said "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss...?" in an almost polite manner.

Eureka! "Oh, sorry! I'm kinda clumsy..." she said to Saalax - the intent of the apology was quite sincere, even if the content wasn't exactly accurate. "Not much room to settle in these seats, is there?"

"Pretty sure this guy's no telepath. Drunkard next to me's totes one tho, I'd know that 'ew, void' flinch anywhere." She didn't let on about the familiarity to people watching though, and just smiled, hugging her briefcase a little tighter protectively. "Did you just come from a party or something?"

"Someone who's good enough to take on 6, or who can run away fast, or who is willing to lay down their life for some greater goal. Plenty of those. There are lots of people in this room, could be any of them. And yes, I am a hired killer. Lots of XP. Hi team~♥"

"The thief may not know there are hired killers here. Until a few moments ago, I had only suspected my co-workers would be on this train. A pleasure, of course, but we can wait until after this business is done for pleasantries. The 'drunkard' may not be drunk; they seem injured to me, or starving. Another agent, and one suffering.. complications." Mister Verma continued watching the room before taking a small sip from the glass before him. "Mm. What vintage is this?"

"Asima Kassis." said the woman, dropping the case into Devlin's hands. "Well? I trust the situation has been resolved to your satisfaction?" she asked the two officers. The woman began a sentence, only to pause, glancing around at the other officer, who nodded. "Of course. Thank you, citizen." There was a slightly nervousness in her voice as she replied.

Saalax seemed to have reached a plateau of terror, and with the voice of a man with nothing else to lose, croaked out "Really? I thought you lot were supposed to be...you know...not like that?" The drunk seemed to begin to rant about stupid seat design, but was interrupted by a call over the intercom.

"The 16:14 shuttle has now arrived. Would all passengers please board. I repeat..."

The message rang out in several different languages, barely giving the UIG officers time to hurry back to besides the doors before they slid open, revealing the shuttle interior on the other side. It was time to leave.

Empty seats left blank.

Seat No.    Occupant                            
1              Punk                                                                          
2              Other Punk                                                                                                
3                                                                                  
4                                                                                  

5              Devlin
6              Tendo
7
8              Woman in Trench coat

9              Young Comoros woman
10             Sergi
11             Timotheus
12            

13              
14            Liz
15            Liz's mum
16            Liz's dad

17            Chinese woman
18
19          
20            

21            Trench coated woman's partner, the TV watcher.
22            Kida
23            Rena
24

25            Asima
26            
27 Drunk woman
28

29            Business people
30            "  "
31            "  "
32

33           Kritka
34           Harvey
35           Saalax
36

37
38
39
40

The cockpit is the trapezoid at the bottom of the map. The door at the back leads to the second carriage, which is almost identical except the chairs have been removed and it is full of luggage (mainly furniture for some reason)