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Caught between implicit and explicit threats of violence, Claudia perked up as the familiarity of her situation put her at ease. Mavelo may not be law enforement, but they were the only authority that meant a damn when it came to their own races, which put the Pirate and the Gladiator in the role of barely tolerated outlaws. 

[color=cd5c5c]"Really, Wave, do we need to spell it out for you? You need to award points for style because it'll make the races that much more [i]dangerous[/i]. Look at what that bonehead did, blowing up the track, yet in doing so he forced everyone to react in shocking ways. If crossing the line was our only care, we'd be boringly practical, but the racer going for style will be a reckless hellion risking life and limb for glory."[/color]

[color=cd5c5c]"And I think Rema can tell you a gladiator's glory reflects upon the house of their sponsor and the arena they grace."[/color] Claudia flipped her hair back over her shoulder carelessly, her saucy smirk favoring the drone before a harsh handshake threatened to disarm the non-augmented pilot. [color=cd5c5c]"Hey there, don't go breaking anything before the race starts! We aren't gonna get a trophy from hobbling each other off the track!"[/color]

She laughed, forcing good humor into her voice as she ignored their corporate overlord and endured the wrenching pain of Rema trying to pry her arm free of her body. It passed with a few shakes and Claudia rested her hand on her holstered pistol to hide it's lingering pains. [color=cd5c5c]"Come on, we're gonna be taking home the crown regardless of Mavelo growing a brain, so let's unwind till they've gotten their track ready for our afterburners to smoke it."[/color]