[stoichornet]

"Milo...Milo Briggs," Han-jae recognized the name from somewhere, and definitely recognized the striking breeder in front of him from meetings at the PX and around base, often spent arguing over collections of logic puzzles that were reprints from some set published pre-towers and pre-war. "Wait, yes, I remember who you're paired with- but I don't think I've seen him come through here. He might have dropped his gear off with someone else at the lockers, or have been yanked aside by the brass for a debriefing or something. Let me check my list." He picked up a tablet from a nearby counter and scrolled down a checklist, pausing at an entry roughly three-quarters of the way down.

"...it says here I do have his things." Han-jae glanced backwards at the armor locker and then began using the tablet to scan the suits for an entry match. "I'll cross-check to see when he came in, and then you can head upstairs to yell at him for keeping you-"

The tablet flashed green, which indicated that he'd found the gear registered to Briggs. "-waiting." He muttered something that sounded like "ah, ssibal" under his breath and cut himself short before anything else could leak out. The match, plainly visible to Piras, was one of the suits that had been torn clean open, with no matching helmet registered.

Han-jae was not smiling. "...that...Does not look good. Listen, check with Medical, see if a casualty list is posted, he might be in quarantine. Do you want me to come with you?" He could probably bend a few rules to step away from his post for a few minutes.