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“Welcome back to Del and Harper’s romantic adventure.” Began your annoying AI coordinator, Angel. She was incredibly bored, due to her being stuck with your vision and senses to play around with, so she had decided to write fanfiction. “It’s currently day five and our protagonist, Deltorian Tessan, has still yet to make a move. Will he confess today, or will he pussy out like the last three girls he met? Find out- “

“Will you shut already?” you say, looking up from the pile of work you still have on your desk. “How many times have I told you in the last three hours that I am working and you doing stupid shit like this is distracting me?” The avatar of Angel, an animated angel like figure, simply shrugged turning to grab a notepad from seemingly nothing. Looking up to the demonic red symbol in your vision, the avatar of your other AI coordinator Daemon, you sigh before making your face for “I at least have you.” Bright red words appear next it saying, “What? I have Angel muted.”

Looking over at the door, as if it was waiting for you gaze to centre on the door, Harper opens it before sticking her head like child looking if their parents weren’t there. “Hey Harper. Come in.” After taking da quick look around, she enters, carefully checking outside before closing the door gently.

It takes you a while before you notice that Harper had not moved to the chair next to the door. Motioning the chair, she quickly sits down, but you can’t help but shake your head before turning back to your work. “At least she’s polite.” You mutter under your breath.

Unconsciously, you can’t help but keep an eye on Harper. Her short brown hair complemented her bright blue eyes, as if framing a set of glistening jewels or something. Much better than your ex anyway.

“Del and Harper, sitting in a tree- “, began Angel, seizing the lapse of concentration as you hurriedly turn to the paperwork. As she continued, you can’t help but be glad at the fact that these she was stuck in your head, and no one else’s.

You noticed over the three days that you have had to look after Harper (more like observing her), she has been incredibly quiet, despite her being of an age that warrants curiosity, your occupation as a member of Department 7, and the fact that you have literally done nothing to protect her besides being there to drop off and pick her up. Then again, this happened before and it was arguably one of the best missions you have had.

After thirty minutes of Harper sitting quietly, staring at the slowly shrinking pile of paper work, and seemingly awkward silence, you decide to break the ice, hopefully take a small break from the tedium of paperwork. What do you say?

>Something simple, like “Do you want anything to drink?”
>Something personal, like “Do you like so and so hobby?” If so, what topic.
>Something professional, like “How did Zero contact you?”
>Something else, say what.

>>1895480
>Something simple, like “Do you want anything to drink?”

>>1895480
>>Something simple, like “Do you want anything to drink?”

Something simple wins. Writing.

There is a large pause before Harper turns back to you. You both look wistfully at each other for a full second before she realises that you asked her a question. "Oh… sorry… I… Umm… What did you say?" Rolling your eyes in exasperation, you repeat your question. "Did you want a drink?"

"Oh, no no no... I'm good. Please..." she replies, only to realise how weird she made it sound.

"You know... I'm the one that's meant to be tending to your whims... I know Zero said protect, but that doesn't mean I can't be nice to you." There's a pause as Harper stares off to the drinks cabinet sat against the wall of your office, before she gets up and gets herself a can from the mini fridge that is built into the side of the cabinet.

After sitting back down in her chair, you return back to work. As you begin typing into the terminal again to search another file, Angel pipes up. "Nice moves there, hot stuff. Handled it like a true gentleman." Rolling your eyes and facing the terminal again, the bright red text of Daemon appears in your vision, reading, "Judging by Angel's smug look and your horrible expression, Angel did something again, didn't she?"

[1/2]

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After another five minutes of typing and writing, your fingers feel numb and your eyes are getting painful. Rolling back in your office chair, lean back and look up to the smooth metal ceiling. "Ugh... how much more to go?" you mumble, quickly looking over to the inbox of stuff that you need to finish, only to shrink in despair.

As if conveniently timed (which it was), bursting into your office with a cheshire smile and dangerous look in his eyes, was the one and only, 4th ranked specialist of Department 7, Casper Fraser.

"Del, buddy. Good to see you." He says, grabbing hold of you by the shoulders. "Figured out how to take my rank?" rubbing in his superior rank in your face, yet again.

"Anyway, buddy. I'm having a class again. You know, show them my specialist training, talk about tactics and stuff. Quite important stuff. Anyway, there are way to many people in my class and I can only handle 150 or so. So... can you take the others. I'll pick them out and send them to you. Okay? Okay!" he says, taking your silence for a yes and leaves, with no regards for the pile of work you still have to do.

"Welp, Casper is still being Casper. You're gonna have to take the class Del." Answers Angel after rolling her avatar's eyes at the annoyance that was Casper. "What you gonna do with Harper? Should we bring her... YES... YOU MUST! This could by your move..."

As Angel continues ranting about her fanfiction, what are you going to do with Harper?

>Leave her in your office. She's gonna be fine if you leave her by herself, right?
>Take her with you to the lesson. Might as well teach her a few things as well.
>Leave her with a good friend. Leaving her in your office might be a bit dangerous, and taking her with you might be as well.

>>1895939
>Leave her with a good friend. Leaving her in your office might be a bit dangerous, and taking her with you might be as well.

>>1895939
>Take her with you to the lesson. Might as well teach her a few things as well.
Our orders are clear

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Let's see who wins.

Take her with you wins. Writing

Your order was very clear. Protect Harper at all costs until I say so, at least that's what it meant to you. Finishing off the last sentences of the file you were working on, you pick up your coat that was sitting on the back of your chair, strap on your revolver into its holster and motion for Harper to follow after you.

A brisk walk through the Department 7 building from the field operative and operations section, where your office was located, to the training areas, you can't help but dread who you were going to have to train today.

Moving into the room, and motioning for Harper to take one of the seats closer to the front, you sit and set up the weapons you think would be the best to show off the students/rookies.

Soon, a group of people walk in and take their spots in the class. They all looked sunken, or disheartened, probably because they got kicked out of Casper's lesson. Oh well... guess your gonna have to take their mind off it.

How are you gonna approach this?
>Drill sergeant.
>Very Chill.
>How you always act, slightly annoyed but calm.

Which guns you gonna use? (choose 3)
>M252 Tempest machine pistol
>P255 STRIKER pistol
>XM14 Masterkey breaching shotgun
>L33A1 Ranger sniper rifle
>AK17 assault rifle
>MP77 Fragarach submachinegun

>>1896818
>How you always act, slightly annoyed but calm.
>L33A1 Ranger sniper rifle
>AK17 assault rifle
>P255 STRIKER pistol

>>1896818
>How you always act, slightly annoyed but calm.
>AK17 assault rifle
>P255 STRIKER pistol
>L33A1 Ranger sniper rifle

Act like always, and the pistol, the assault rifle and the sniper. Cool, writing.

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Taking a moment to calm yourself down, you carefully move the sniper rifle, the assault rifle and the pistol up onto the desk in front of you. "Welcome to this gun training lesson. As you can see, I am not Casper, and hopefully none of you want to be... he's an ass. Anyway. I am Deltorian Tessan, the 5th ranked specialist of Department 7 and I'm going to be your instructor for today." You can see from the boredom on their faces that you were losing them, but like the last three lessons you have had to do for Casper, you knew exactly what to say to catch their attention. "Not many of you know this, but Casper would currently be instructing one hundred and fifty other rookies. While that might be amazing, this is because it is mostly a history lesson." As if on queue, Angel took over the display that was behind you and began displaying live feed from the auditorium that Casper was in, showing the boring lesson of the history behind musket rifles.

The expressions of the rookies in front of you changed from boredom to disgust, then relief as they realised they were not in that lesson. "I believe in a more practical approach to weaponry. But I have a few rules." Gesturing to the display, with Angel helping you, the display changed from footage to three key rules. "1. do not mess around with guns in my presence or you will be forced to reassemble the gun you were messing around with. 2, unless specified, safety should always be on. 3, two magazines per person, per gun."

With that you smile and motion for everyone to move to the firing range that had been set up for this lesson. Taking the pistol off the table, you carefully inspect it before displaying it to the class. "This is the P255 STRIKER. Get used to it, because this gun is gonna start popping up all over the place. It's reliable, useful, relatively powerful, and in general average."

"It fires 9mm rounds and has 17 shots in one magazine. Overall, pretty average and as it's the most well known gun, better to start with this."

Roll 1d100, lower is better, best of the first three rolls.

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>1896944
inb4 another nat 1

Rolled 64 (1d100)

>>1896944
Nat 1 incoming

I'll just write based on these two rolls.

I'll finish writing tomorrow. Stick around.

>>1897319
Will do, QM. Thanks for running, even if you're not getting many anons.

Cracking the knuckles in your right hand (left hand is cybernetic), you pick up the pistol and quickly sight down the gun. In a heartbeat, you are in a ready stance and you fire three rounds down the range. The paper head and torso erupt in a flurry of torn shreds, as you quickly slip out the magazine and reload the gun. "Quick, reliable, the STRIKER. Your turn." You say, placing the gun on the table and pulling out another five others.

Watching rookies fire rounds at paper is somewhat satisfying, mainly because you don't have to be a teacher for this short bit. "You're doing just fine, buddy." you mumble, as you take a sip from a cup of coffee that you brought.

Taking a look at Harper, she's obviously trying incredibly hard to learn. Surprisingly, she's doing pretty well and most of the shots are hitting. But something seems a bit off...

Rolls please.

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>1899927

>>1899927

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>1900697
Excuse that.