Rated M for distressing situations, violence, gore and drug references.
BUSINESS IS WAR
Klaxons wailed. Amber lights swept angry circles across the ceiling. Guards were sprinting from all over the building to respond to the alert, but by the time they got there it would be far too late for rogue scientist Lisa Asari.
Through her fear, a small voice at the back of Lisa’s mind said, almost mockingly, So much for a safe house. There were two men with her; Sonbushi bodyguards who had not left her side since her arrival, but they gripped their submachine guns with whitening fingers - like her, they knew what was coming.
There was a trio of short, sharp gunshots, followed by a guard being flung bodily round the elbow of the corridor ahead. He rebounded off the opposite wall, leaving a red streak against the mirrored steel before flopping raggedly to the floor, his assault rifle clattering across the tiles beside him. Stepping over the body, one after the other, came the Agents.
There were four of them; three men and a woman, all dressed in long, hooded overcoats. Their coats rippled as they walked, every line and fold accentuated by the reflective walls to either side. Their hoods were thrown back, revealing stern faces without a hint of fear or empathy.
Lisa’s two guards fired, uselessly. The short snarls of their machine guns were deafening in the confined space. The lead Agent was hit, but he barely even staggered. There were no bright puffs of blood from exit wounds; in fact, there was barely any blood at all. Beneath the Agent’s open overcoat, through the small red holes in his shirt, Lisa could see the tell-tale glint of silver metal.
In response to the ineffectual fusillade, two of the other Agents raised heavy black pistols. Lisa’s bodyguards snapped backwards without a sound, the backs of their skulls coming apart as the bullets punched neat holes in their foreheads. The four Agents strode forward without pause, their blank eyes now fixed on Lisa. Lisa stumbled backwards into the dead-end store room, her hands clawing at the pockets of her EuroCorp lab coat. If she had been anyone else she would be dead already, but she knew that these Agents would be under orders from her former employers to capture, not to kill.
Fuck that! she thought savagely as her hand closed around the object she had been looking for. She pulled out the small chrome disc, holding it towards the advancing Agents like some sort of futile weapon as she stabbed at the button on its side.
The effect was immediate. All four Agents stumbled, falling sideways against the walls. Their weapons clattered to the floor as hands flew instead to the backs of their necks, gripping them in sudden pain. Lisa saw the lead Agent blinking furiously, disorientated, as if he had been suddenly awakened from a dream. Another stood frozen on the spot, his eyes fixed on the mirrored wall. He was still staring numbly at his own reflection when the belated reinforcements arrived. Lisa ducked for cover as a hail of bullets tore into the Agents, battering them backwards with the impacts until all four finally sank down in smoking, unrecognisable heaps.
Several miles away, in a dimly-lit control room where the EuroCorp logo glittered from every surface, executive Roberto De Luca swore as the command link to all four of his cyborg Agents was suddenly cut off and refused to re-engage. This was followed mere seconds later by the abrupt flattening of the Agents’ bio-signs.
De Luca shouted at the two compu-techs seated in front of him, who protested back wildly. The only calm figure in the room was De Luca’s bodyguard, another black-clad Agent with a combat shotgun cradled in his hands and several more weapons concealed inside his long overcoat. Eventually De Luca realised that swearing would do nothing to change the situation, and that he was only delaying the inevitable. He swallowed hard, and tapped a key on his terminal. A light flickered green as the connection was established.
“Marco Xenakis.” came the familiar commanding baritone.
“Sir, it’s Roberto De Luca over in Warsaw ops. We’ve got a problem.”
There was a pause. “What kind of problem?”
“My control signal cut out. Agents Rautio, Jones, Farren and Zerjowi are all down. Negative on target acquisition.”
Another pause. “I see.”
Behind De Luca, his Agent twitched as a new command link overrode the one currently running through his CHIP. De Luca was too busy trying to explain himself to notice.
“We’ll find her!” he said, “We’ll send another team and get her back!”
“Yes.” agreed the voice, “We will.”
Executive Roberto De Luca barely had time to register the cold muzzle of his bodyguard’s shotgun pressing itself against the back of his head before it blew his brains out against the far wall.
At the head of a long oval table in a boardroom surrounded on all sides by bomb-proof glass windows, chief executive Marco Xenakis slumped back in his chair and cut the power to his holographic terminal in disgust. A few seconds later he leaned forward again, and when he addressed the twin rows of executives seated in front of him his voice was apparently free of stress.
“Okay.” he said, looking at his subordinates through steepled fingers, “I trust you’re all aware just how big of a problem this is for us all. So let’s correct it. Engel?”
“Sir?” said a smartly-dressed woman seated third from Xenakis’ left.
“First thing’s first. We’re going to need some replacement Agents.”
******
Hi everybody, and welcome to this collaborative effort between myself and X. With the reimagined version of the classic cyberpunk strategy game Syndicate coming out soon, we felt like setting a RP in the dark near-future of the original game. The year is 2080, and business is war.
Spoiler: THE SETTING
Spoiler: PLAYER CHARACTERS
Spoiler: SAMPLE CHARACTER SHEET
I believe my co-GM will be along shortly with your a la carte menu of weapons and cybernetics, as well as our first character…
Bookmarks