An Amicable Meeting

[Reeves]

The instant Krest had approached and began her introduction also happened to be when a discharge of volatile energy in the system beyond the viewport occurred. It was only a second's worth of time, illuminating this deck of the station and one half of Damien's face, while the other was given a long shadow before returning to view as the light normalized in the wake of the lightning. Despite the fact it produced no sound whatsoever, he still waited for it to pass before his hand reached out and grasped hers for a formal handshake. Words followed eventually, calm and perfectly lucid, garbled comms did his voice no justice. "Likewise, but I'll skip an introduction of myself on account of it being redundant." Evidently formality could take a backseat given his choice of words. And with their handshake concluded he returned his gloved hands to either side of himself. What he seemed to be wearing was a particularly well assembled flight-suit, only vague pieces here and there resembled anything of Libertonian design. It was too meticulous and rugged in its construction to have been anything the Xenos made on their own, likely provided to him by some benefactor with access to exotic resources and partners. Nevertheless, it appeared the original paint had been stripped from the dull metal, with the new layer boasting a drab pair of icy colors which conveyed an unknown motif.

Minus the helmet that no doubt came with his gear, it was clear that Damien was a remarkably healthy individual. In every regard of him that could be observed, everything was more than in order. Well groomed, well composed, and well mannered to top it all. But there was still the nagging sense, unclear as it was, about his presence. Like his acquaintance, there was a gun holstered to his hip, visibly less delicate and even bulky by design. It sported an exhaustive amount of customizations and minor embellishments, most of which denoted his name and rank. This all served to make it seem like less of a weapon and more of a badge, and that only seemed fitting given the nature of his people.

"Is this your first time here?" Before the storm Hackers were hardly an uncommon crowd aboard the station, but the frequency of their visits had declined sharply. That coupled with the eagerness of the Bounty Hunters to track criminals from Freeports, it was entirely likely that Krest had avoided Ames altogether. While those thoughts spun in circles together and competed for conclusion, his eyes moved to her mask, silently questioning the need for it given the setting.