>>1502816
>A

>>1502816
>(a) Pick up. You have a feeling you know who this is.

>>1502816
B

Sorry for the wait, but sort of a sleep. (a) wins and writing.

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After making peace with whatever inner regrets you have, you answer the call. Almost immediately, the line is blasted with the overly excited noise of a video game. When the camera's lens finally focuses, sat in a bright purple gaming chair, surrounded by multiple plush elephants of various sizes, sipping from a can of equally bright purple soft drink, was the one, the only, Yoko "Binary" "Soda Drinking Elephant" Tessan. That's right, you annoying, almost slacker little sister.

Upon you picking up the phone, her brown eyes flicker over to the camera, as as if she realised that she was still working. With that, she turns back to her main screen and quickly types something before swiping the air with a glove she was wearing. "Hey Del... Sorry for calling you. I know that we are both in the middle of something, but... pressing news from the field operatives in the area. I'll send you the files." Immediately Angel opens up files containing multiple documents and images. "You arrived just in time... probably, because pretty much all of the operatives are saying that they are planning something big... From what they're saying, you have one hour to look into what's going on because any moment, shit's gonna hit the fan and I'm not going to be able to finish this game... Last transmission says it's near a warehouse near you. Good Luck, have fun, don't die." With that, the video call ends and you are left cringing from the mental pain you took from staring into Harper's horrible office.

Taking five minutes to remove your coat, strap in the armour vests and sliding you carbine into place, you prepare to get moving. Slipping the helmet over your head, you begin to remember your:

(a) Cybernetic Augmentation
(b) History with the Solar Military
(c) Personal History

>>1504159
(a) Cybernetic Augmentation

>>1504159
>(a) Cybernetic Augmentation

>>1504159
>A

Calling Vote (a) wins. Writing.

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With your coat off, the grey black ballistic plating of your cybernetic arm lightly reflects the last of the coming in through the cracks in the blinds. Clenching your fist, a blade about six inches pops out from the underside of your fore arm that gleams slightly before sliding back in. Relaxing your hand, your index finger and your third finger unfold, revealing both a mechanical lock picker and a mag lock over-loader. As those two fold back in, your hand splits open, revealing a large arrow head attached to a sizable spool of wiring. As the grappling hook housing closes, a small disc forms on the top side of your forearm before a large glowing plate forms around it. Notably, there are some seems down the radius side of your arm. Finally, as you pull the sleeve of your arm back, you open the compartment inside your upper arm, finding medical equipment, two cigarettes, a lighter and one cylinder of revolver ammunition.

As you finish your checks, your helmet flickers on, to which, you take a glove from your coat on the floor, gingerly placing it on your right hand. At that, read outs of everything in your arsenal, comms, weapons, tactics begin quickly cycling. Something in your head clicks and a soft male voice, echoes through the helmet. "Del, let's get moving. Angel has sent Valley squad and update and they will move out in five. Time to scout ahead."

With that, taking the hidden exit from the building, you move out onto the street, the air beginning to chill. Taking one last look around, the road beneath you lights up and a mini-map displays in your top right. White text types across the top of your display, saying, "Route planned. I avoided the civilian hot spots. Daemon, Del... have fun. I've got your back." With that you head towards the warehouse.

(a) Information is Power. Scout it out and relay to Valley squad when you meet up.
(b) Infiltrate and begin the investigation. If you find info along the way, report it later.
(c) Hit them hard, hit them fast. Begin an assault. You probably can do well enough.

Dice please.

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>1505515
>(c) Hit them hard, hit them fast. Begin an assault. You probably can do well enough.

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>1505515
(c) Hit them hard, hit them fast. Begin an assault. You probably can do well enough.

1d100, best of first three.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>1505515
>A
Not sure what the difference between this and B is, but let's take it slow.

Calling Vote. (c) wins. This is going to be great to write...

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Navigating the streets at sundown unseen is difficult, due to the paranoia that everyone has of waning light, but the path that Angel had laid out for you is very empty and the few people that you did see didn't seem to notice you as you made your way over to the warehouse.

Upon arrival, you thought you had gone to the wrong place at first, with nothing happening for a good five seconds, but as soon as you move to do one more scope around the building, you hear chatter. "We gotta move quicker. The Solar Army shipment is coming in soon and if we catch them at dusk, we have a better chance to gank them." Taking one last deep breath, the soft voice of Daemon echoes through your helmet. "Your call Del. Loud or quiet. Your choice." Flicking the safety off your carbine, you round the corner as Daemon intuitively begins marking your targets.

The warehouse itself was stacked with multiple rows of shipping containers and shelving, making a horrible maze filled with gun men and defensive positions, but the two gunmen on the outside near the SUV's, were sitting ducks. The first went down immediately with three shots to the chest. The second was barely able to draw when he went down in the same fashion. Running up and taking a position near the SUV's, you hear the sound of multiple combatants setting up and advancing. Dropping to prone, you expertly pick one guy off with a shot to his ankle before shooting him while he is downed. Taking their confusion as a gap, you push yourself up and to the right side of the SUV you were using as cover and spraying down the combatants.

As you finish up the last guys on right hand side, the comms unit in your helmet lights up with the panicked chatter of the enemy. "Fuck, the Department's on top of us. Get to evac now... AH FU..." , the ending filled with the sound of a blade and bloodied garbling. Turning to find a guy upon you and your carbine somewhat empty, you twist, draw and fire your revolver. With the assault beginning, you hear the sound of the a large SUV crash in through the side gate. You can't help but mutter under your breath, "Reinforcements...", as you narrowly miss getting raked with machine gun fire. What do you do now?

(a) Wait it out. Something is going to happen soon, probably.
(b) Begin firing back, hoping to catch the gunner
(c) Hope that your grappling hook winds fast and launch it.

Image Not accurate representation but closest one.

>>1505877
>(b) Begin firing back, hoping to catch the gunner

>>1505877
>C
Time to Batman.

>>1505877
>(c) Hope that your grappling hook winds fast and launch it.

Calling Vote. (c) wins. Roll.

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>1506099
Check this crit fail.

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1506099

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>1506099

A 7... Great roll.... Writing.

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Normally, grappling in front of a massive SUV with a machine gun mounted on top would be really dangerous, but as this though flickers through you head, a path brightens in your display, bright red lines appear in your helmet. Quickly looking around, you find one of the gun men, dead just near you, but attached to his combat rigging is a grenade. Almost in unison, you, Daemon and Angel using text, seemingly nod in approval of this somewhat stupid plan.

As the suppressing fire starts to wind down, you flick around the edge of the SUV cover you're using and launch the grappling hook in your arm. The sound of the spool unwinding is the only sound for a short bit, soon taken over by a burst of gunfire. Reaching over to the body with your right hand, you grab the grenade and jerk it free, spoon stopping the fuse from going. As the head buries into the warehouse's walls, the spool in your arm begins to wind, and you are launched off your feet into the air. Barely missing the top of the SUV, gunner no surprised at your tactic, you perfectly time it and drop the grenade right inside the gunner port. As you winched towards the roof of the building, the sound of explosions rock the air around you.

It doesn't take you long to clean up the rest of the situation, with Valley squad coming in a few seconds after the SUV explosion. As you sit, watching over the few gun men that survived the assault, you notice something familiar. Each of the gun men have a tattoo located on their necks. After looking closer, you laugh slightly as you realise that these gun men were part of the Rippers. As you see this, Angel, now with voice again, speaks up. "Well. That's good news. With this, we now have information of the one of the worst organised crime groups. Good job Del."

As the authorities roll in to clear the place, You notice another operative much like yourself. He is wearing the Department 7 uniform, alongside three sheaths and an assault rifle. As you look over, you can't help but smile. As you do so, pipes up again, "Should we talk to him?"

(a) Yup, because it's a great idea.
(b) No, but hang around. Be anti-social.
(c) Leave the place immediately once you finish your debriefing of the situation.

>>1506261
>B
Get our edgy loner game on.

>>1506261
>(a) Yup, because it's a great idea.

Follow the plothook

>>1506261
A

Calling vote. Writing

After quickly finishing up the last of your debriefing with the authorities, you move to intercept the other operative. As you approach, both of you exchange salutes before he removes his full face helmet. Standing before you is the Department's CQC specialist, Michael Hanson. He's a length taller than you, and almost everyone in the area, except for one of the few Department Quick Response operatives. "So... How many kills did you get Del?" You would reply but you lost count. Sadly, Daemon did, and after calculating, displays "13 to 15" on your helmet. Chuckling slightly as he brushes his fringe out of his eyes again, he speaks up again. "Well, you lost... you're paying first round." At that, you chuckle slightly as something inside you stirs. To that you are cleared to leave the site and taking a round through Berlin, spend you night relaxing, knowing that you have work to soon.

AND SO ENDS ANOTHER DOCUMENT: ARTEMIS. Having fun with this stuff and expect another one soon.