Donal keeps nervously flicking his eyes side to side, the elevator music is oddly helping you keep keyed up, and the net-window you pulled up on the wall is blaring typical human idiocy. According to the media, General Kira Alfe is stepping down as commander of Mars Colonial Guard, and may be tried for assorted undisclosed charges. They've done a beautiful job of whipping up public opinion against her, but they've made a crucial error in judgement, the news has also done an amazing job of hyping you into the greatest hero humanity has ever seen. You reach the thirty-fourth floor and the door opens, standing outside is Admiral Kruschev, he nods to you and steps into the car.
"I see you're feeling better Captain, how is the walk going?"
Not batting an eye, you respond, "Going very nicely sir, some gentlemen objected, but after I explained myself, they fell all over themselves to get out of my way."
Kruschev rubs his short iron-gray beard, "I'll see what I can do to keep things going smoothly, I understand that General Alfe is in a press conference on the fourteenth floor, if you find yourself headed in that direction, say hello to her for me, would you?" The elevator reaches the twentieth floor, and the admiral steps out.
You swear the old man just flashed you a smile as the doors closed, thinking rapidly, you decide that any attempt at being unobtrusive will likely backfire here, best to storm in and lay down the law.
"Captain, do you really think this is a good idea?" Donal is obviously a bit scared by your behavior. "I don't want the General to quit, and I wish the news would just drop it, but we can't do this... Can we?"
A thin smile touches your lips, "Oh yes, we can Donal. I'm not going to play by the rules on this one, this is going to far. For the public to behave this way on the cusp of human extinction is simply insulting, I'm not putting up with it when there is something I can do about it." The elevator chimes sound, you've reached level fourteen.
A team of Martian council guards are stupid enough to try to stop you, the first two go down almost instantly. Donal surprises you by flip-throwing the next into a wall, you finish the last by hurling him through the double doors of the press auditorium. Storming in, another set of guards tries to engage, you almost laugh when four Terran Marines drop from the balcony overhead and drop the under-trained security like sandbags, the leader of the team nods to you as you pass.
You have no idea just how many recording devices are currently aimed at you, but there are at least five-hundred assorted media persons present.
Standing at the podium at center stage is General Alfe, standing 5'11" and looking delightful in her dress reds, her brown hair has a light frosting of gray, mostly from stress, her blue eyes are currently giving you the most baleful glare ever presented to man by woman. For the moment you disregard that, she hasn't been eating enough, and that just makes you angrier, you'll tell her off for that later.
First you'll deal with these media morons.
Mission: Tell the media exactly what you think of them, then start a riot, because why not
Status: Healthy, enraged, under the effects of death-glare
Reaver: unknown
Location: Main auditorium, 14th floor, Olympus Mons Federal hospital