Max-Tac. Within the ruthless, blood thirsty ranks of men that have surrendered their humanity for military power in order to put down insane cyborgs little different than themselves. Were to be found specialists. Those that had moved beyond the threshold of humanity and become fully machine, or far worse.

You are Lt. Walker. Head of Night City's C-SWAT Task Force Extreme Contingency Unit. Code Name "Demon Slayers." Assigned to deal with full body borgs gone cyber psycho, Weapons of Mass Destruction, and paramilitary uprisings within Night City.

You are a twice fully converted borg unit. Only your skull, spinal column, esophageal track, and genitalia remain of your original body. These systems have been heavily modified once for placement within a Dragoon Borg body during (Classified) conflict in (Classified) through usage of a specialized frame of (Classified) manufacturer. Your present body is a "gifted" bio engineered rehabilitation "frame" cloned from your original genetic samples and (Classified) enhanced tissue samples. For all intents and purposes you look like an ordinary man when out of uniform. You feel like an ordinary man... feel FeEl FEEEEEELllleeeeesssssssss... an ordinary man. You are armed with unique biological armaments and enhancements. And, along with your task force duties you are obligated by contract to report (FEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDDD) on any resulting symptoms and unique physiological experiences. Two unique bio ripper units are in your hands and arms. And, your tongue can form a unique, blue "whip" like proboscis weapon. Your nerve enhancements sometimes cause illusions of temporal perception or precognition. Ignore the sense of déjà vu. This is merely biological feedback forming a sort of intuition (INtuItIoNnnnnn).

You wake up with a start to the blaring sound of a notification coming in through a priority channel. It's Rex. your unit Sergent and immediate subordinate. He's a fully converted Borg, Heavy Weapons Specialist, and former comrade in arms that served with you in places you'd prefer not to remember and aren't allowed to tell anyone, ever. You answer him.

"Boss, we've got a live one. Three Militech love children gone full psycho in an upscale joint in a shit hole part of town. Called the Golden Cafe. Our ETA to pick you up is a minute twenty, unless you want to meet us there... in that "way" that you do."

>"Fuck you Rex, don't discuss classified technology even over a secured line. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

>"I'll meet you there." Hang up on him without another word and proceed to the call location through your special way.

>Tell him to come get you and hang up.

>Tell him to handle the situation without you and that you'll meet him later after clean up.