You go to the armoury on B1 and ask for a
really big gun. The Armoury Master looks at you passingly, then gives a definitive
NO before returning to his girlie mag. You draw your Vester and empty the clip into the energy shield between you and him, but it vaporises the slugs on contact. He gives you a dismissive wave, as if this had happened a thousand times before, and you slink away dejectedly.
Cops are so lazy..You climb the stairs back to the ground floor and head over to your desk. You plop down in the squeaky polyester swivel chair and push a pile of reports to one side, placing the folder there instead. You open it and are surprised to find a datasheet inside. Its a highly sophisticated synthetic document whose information can be updated at any time, usually the department doesn't just hand these out, so it should be pretty important. You pull a pack of Novas and your lighter from an airtight compartment in your suit and light up. You set the lighter down and peruse the document while puffing on the cigarette. You inhale too quickly after reading a line and choke on the smoke in your lungs, coughing and gasping for air and dropping your cigarette on the ground. Finally you can breathe enough to shout.
I'm being transferred?! The buzz of conversation stops instantly as everyone in the room turns, and you can feel their eyes on you. Just when you think you couldn't get any smaller everyone goes back to work, and the background noise returns. You lean closer to your desk and light another Nova, mumbling to yourself as you go over the document several more times. Yep. Thats a transfer order. They want you on the
Special Riot Control team. One of the most dangerous jobs a cop could ever get seated with. What a crock of shit. Of course you could always try to skip out on it by applying to become an investigator, or signing up with one of those special weapons squads, but being a gumshoe is a lot of work, and the Special Weapons is almost just as dangerous.
You take a break and try to read the Commander's mind or something. You concentrate on his stupid bald head and think really hard. Either not much is going on in there or you're not doing something right.
Name: Kendra Smith
Gender: Female
Appearance: She has long, brown hair thats usually drawn back into a ponytail, or a bun when she's wearing her slipsuit. She has intense purple eyes that practically see into you, and a very serious face. She rarely smiles even when she isn't on the job. Off-duty, she usually wears an immaculate business suit (with pocket square). Occasionally wears an old-fashioned P.I. suit, complete with a trench coat, and a small fedora.
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Clothing
Mk. 1 Patrol Slipsuit
- officially classed as 'light armour'
- standard police information suite
- soft sealed against airborne agents and particulate debris
- proofed against low calibre munitions and stabbing weapons
Weaponry
VX Vester - A low calibre handgun, extremely light and easy to handle, the handle folds inward to allow for ease of concealment. Patrol officers generally carry them in specially designed compartments set into their slipsuits that are capable of delivering the weapon directly into the officer's hand. Numerous special munitions have been designed for this weapon, and are put to good use by street cops and investigators alike.
Battle Baton - A telescoping steel rod intended for close-range subduing of suspects and self-defence. Fits in the palm of one's hand before deployment.
Miscellaneous
Important Looking Manilla Folder - Has a WCPD stamp on the front. And its laminated.