>>551196
> explain
But seriously, what is there to explain? "It seems I stumbled onto an experimental exo-suit in the middle of a firefight, don't know anything more than that." Go into more detail at the actual briefing.

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>>551196
Somehow, you get the impression that telling them /everything/ would probably not be a great idea. You can’t, however, leave him hanging.

“Not much to say. I pursued a couple of those assholes in black and the next thing I know, the whole place is on fire and I stumble across this thing.”

Julian chews his lip, mulling on what you’ve just told him. The others shift in their seats, trying very hard to pretend they’re not paying attention, except the Rook, who couldn’t be more obvious if he tried.

The rest of the ride is spent in uncomfortable silence as the VTOL powers over Antana and back towards the 118th Precinct where Assagai has set up shop. Eventually, you feel the craft slow and realise that you’d been more fussed over what the fuck has happened than the thought of being stuck in this flying coffin again.

The ramp opens and beyond the sizeable roof of the Precinct the the stunning vista of night-time Antana greets you. Truth be told, you much prefer it to the daytime picture: less smog. The craft sets itself down on one of the helipads and you disembark, only to find three figures waiting for you.

The first is a young Japanese male you know as Hanzou. As far as you’re aware he doesn’t have a family name. The boss lady picked him up on a visit and he’s been fiercely loyal ever since, or so the story goes. Has quite a way with knives, that one. Give him a few more years and he’d probably give /you/ a run for your money.

The next is an older woman: Marianne Marker, the boss’s aide; makes sure she knows if someone's got an issue or needs a boot up their backside. Her completely eidetic memory makes her pretty damn good at her job. Shame she’s about as interesting to talk to as a dead cat.

And lastly--hoo boy--is the big cheese herself. Belinda Ballantyne, the Chief of Operations for Assagai and the woman overseeing the Antana Contract. Effectively your God. Hard-assed, no-nonsense: the typical ingredients for a woman used to running a show and running it /right/. A lit cigarette dangles from her frowning mouth as she eyes you up.

“So,” she begins, removing the cigarette from her mouth, “I’m waiting on that explanation.”

>Can it wait?
>Shit happened. I found this thing. There, done.
>Other?

>>552254
>The boss lady picked him up on a visit and
fffffffffffffffffff
That should be a visit to Japan

>>552254
> shit happened
"Some science guy threw a vial at me, whatever was in it turned into this sweet suit. It can make me faster, stronger and tougher. I think."
I guess the only real failure situation is that they try take it off us, not sure how to stop that. Maybe say your up for a little more field testing.

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>>552254
“Shit happened,” you tell her with a shrug.

The look on her face, coupled with the way she folds her arms, informs you that she is less than impressed with your succinct summary of events. You sigh and wait for your lot and Kilgore’s to pass on by.

“Some guy threw a vial of this weird crap at me,” you explain. “I passed out and when I woke up, I look like this. Honestly? I’m actually starting to dig it, and I’m not just saying that because I have no clue where the zipper on this thing is.”

Belinda hums doubtfully and gives you another look over.

“I’m serious. I got it in a pretty strange way, but this suit saved my life. Dunno I’d have made it out of that burning apartment without it.”

Her gaze sharpens at the mention of your mission, which, now you think about it, is kind of a failure…

“So what the hell happened in there? This was meant to be an easy in-out operation and instead I almost lose one of my fire team leaders and half a building in a busy district burns down which is already raising a scare!” Yikes, she’s starting to sound pissed. Bad things tend to happen when the boss lady gets antsy, like pay cuts and shit duty. Neither one of those really appeal to you.

“I told you: shit happened. We made entry and found ourselves up against these assholes in black. I got separated from my team and then I got this thing,” you pinch at the… fuck, skin? It sure feels like skin, which is actually kind of creepy.

Belinda takes a deep breath through her nose and frowns. Behind her, Marianne makes a few notes on a clipboard she seems to carry /everywhere/ with her. Hanzou, conversely, appears attentive but bored, which makes two of you, you muse.

“Did you see any sign that Mercer might have been expecting company?” she asks tiredly.

You pause, thinking, before shaking your head, “Nah, nothing, and once the gunfire started up we couldn’t check and then I guess someone must have thrown an incendiary. Mercer could have been tipped off that something was going on and bugged out or he could be dead for all we know.”

Belinda grunts, displeased but no longer sounding like she’s entertaining the idea of sticking you in the sewers. Again.

“Right,” she starts, taking a quick draw from her cig, “we’ll discuss the details a little later, maybe. For now, I want you to head down to the infirmary.”

“What for?” You ask, puzzled, “I feel fine.”

And you do, curiously enough; despite what you’re certain happened just before you found yourself waking up decked out like some kind of comic book hero.

“You know anything about whatever this thing is you’ve got?” Belinda asks, arching an eyebrow at you. “It may have saved you but I want it looked at all the same. Last thing any of us need is a nasty surprise.”

>I feel fine, Boss. I’d like to speak to Sam and Monique.
>Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get checked out.

>>553062
> get checked out
Enemy combatant covered you in suspicious goo... Not necessarily good. Hopefully there is jello though

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>>553062
You’d like nothing more than to blow her off and kick back because today has been a very strange day, buuuut…

“Yeah,” you sigh, “yeah, you’re right. I’ll go get myself looked at.”

“Good boy,” Belinda says with a wry grin. “Now get off with you. I need to figure out what the next play is--got to tread damn carefully with all these damn riots…” she trails off muttering as she turns around and stalks off, presumably back to her commandeered office, with Hanzou and Marianne in tow. You head on inside and take an elevator down to the fifth floor and pass through a set of double doors to the infirmary.

As soon as you step through those doors, the distinctive blare of synth-metal washes away all other noise. The doc is in, and the fact he’s got his awful music turned up so loud means he’s in a good mood. You think. It’s pretty hard to get a read on that guy.

“Oh, who’s this?” A bespectacled man wonders aloud as he pokes his head through an open door. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen a bodysuit quite like that before. Would you be so kind as to identify yourself? I’m afraid the mask has me at a bit of a loss.”

“Murdoch,” you inform him.

“Ah, Jaxon,” he exclaims, eyes lighting up in recognition. “That’s a rather fresh look. Where did you find that?”

“I dunno if I should talk about that, Doc,” you say, greeting Doctor Pete Dutfield with a courteous nod. “But the boss lady wants me to get looked over.”

“Sure,” he says, follow me, if you please.

He leads you to a machine that looks almost like a tanning bed and asks you to lie down on your back. “Stay still, please. This won’t take long.” You comply and resist the urge to twiddle your thumbs. True to his word, though, the procedure is swift, and within a handful of minutes, Pete comes back with what you imagine are your results. You wait expectantly, but Pete doesn’t give you the good news.

Unless it’s not good news…

“So…?” you prompt.

Pete removes his specs and gives them a clean before replacing them and rubbing his jaw. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he seems almost rattled.

>Do I want to know?
>Come on, give us the news, Doc

>>553380
> Give us the good news doc
nb4 he can't see shit through the suit

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>>553380
“Come on, Doc. Give us the news, it can’t be all that bad. I actually do feel pretty fine.”

Pete swallows and shakes his head.

“This… look, Jaxon…” he tries, but trails off.

“Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out a little. Just… hit me with the details before I get jittery.”

“You should be dead.”

…

“You uh… you mind running that by me one more time?” You’re certain you’ve misheard him. He probably said something else and you just—

“Okay,” Pete sighs and leans against the wall, “look… this is the third set of prints from your scans. I reprinted them /twice/ because I was sure that my machines had to be on some sort of fritz. They’re not. You want to know how bad the damage is?”

He gently tosses the sheets toward you, which you catch and bring up. The guy’s exaggerating. Has to be. Or it’s some kind of joke.

Only it’s not…

“Your spine has been severed below the thoracic curve. Your insides are… they’re a mess. To top all this off, there are shards of bone that have punctured your heart.” He stares at you, blank-faced. “To put it simply: the fact that you are here, talking to me, is impossible--/should/ be impossible. That thing you’re wearing,” he points at you, “I don’t know what it’s doing or /how/ it’s doing it but it is the /only/ thing keeping you alive right now.”

...

Well, wasn't that a kick in the teeth?

>Going to pause it here. Net's playing up. Will pick it back up for a couple hours tomorrow.

>>553900
well shit
thourt it would have helad all that up
nooped its just holding us together
and that means we cant take it off to get laid fuck!!