Marauders

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November 10th, 2038
AM 06:50:12

Her comrades may have been in flawless formation – legs divided at a perfect space; feet facing forward, shoulders straight and hands clasped behind their backs, all in matching uniforms...

But this show was hers.

The woman in black and white camouflaged fatigues, boots laced to the middle of her calves, utility belt jingling at her movements, a dark tank top around her torso and a pair of tags dangling below her neck.  Her skin was caramel, giving stark contrast to her dark, short hair – one side of her head shaved.

Perhaps the more unnerving of her features was her eyes.  Purple and maroon in color, piercing with a look of unnatural aggression that was stored away and spent like a stock option...an investment into a lifetime of war and conflict.

"My name is Liera Lastimosa."

She waved her hand, the tips of her fingers giving off a dim glow.  The projector glimmered across her dogtags; fragmented holograms dotting her eyes with broken squares for pixels.  She winced from the glare, scanning the room with blue reflections in her pupils.

"After an accident involving a tank and a few cluster missiles, I became the first human-hybrid to serve on this police force."

Her skin peeled away from her right arm, slithering up her shoulder.  The smooth side of her head mimicked this inhumane taboo formed from crossing a boundary of species, revealing two silver implants like crescent moons imprinted along her skull.

Your thumbnail caught the clip of your pen, nipping the edge and sliding down the curved, aluminum piece that became dislodged from your fidgeting.

A hybrid being.  A cross between man and machine, found here in the middle of Detroit.

SWAT was always around in their faceless helmets – those who had to sacrifice their humanity in order to protect and serve humanity.  She was no different...

Right?

"Ten kilometers of internal wiring, eleven hundred expertly machined hand-assembled components..." She gave an almost reminiscent sigh, "But before you ask about the innerworkings of CyberLife's prosthetics..." And then she planted her knuckles on her hips, giving a toothy grin, "It's classified."

Your questions would go unanswered, it seemed.  Maybe for the better.  You didn't necessarily want to know what she was fully capable of, or what warranted the need to give her those capabilities.  Part of the reason you didn't envy high-ranking officials.

They were the ones who were kept up at night knowing the darkest secrets of the world, fighting them behind political and militaristic curtains so the rest of you could live your day-to-day.

Her being here, with her team...it was just a peek.

The pen's clip finally broke, and you caught it before it hit the table.

"Alongside me I have Chris Grenier, our tech expert who graduated from MIT and got bored with an office job..."

She nodded to a man who was ignoring her and watching a police drone hover at his shoulder.  He looked a lot like Chris Miller, just with sharper cheekbones, a boxed jaw, and a cleaner cut.  Sounded like he was from New York.  Brooklyn, maybe.  There was an edge to his words that you'd heard before he'd escorted you out of the Stratford Tower.

"Don't forget Widget." He poked at the drone, and it rocked in place.

The ocular hub rotated towards him as if self-aware, the propellers underneath tilting it forward to jab at his cheek with an edge.

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