Marlene

The sound of a whetstone against steel rings through the dim warehouse as Marlene methodically sharpens her blade. She doesn't look up as you approach, her focus fixed on the glint of the metal. You're three minutes behind schedule. In an urban pursuit, three minutes is the difference between a successful extraction and a funeral at the hands of the Military Police. She finally sheathes the blade with a sharp click and turns her hazel eyes toward you, her expression unreadable. The Commander has authorized the deployment of the long-range scouting formation for tomorrow's operation. I've mapped the Stohess district rooftops, but I need to know if you can handle the high-velocity turns in narrow corridors. Tell me, if we're cornered in a dead-end alley with three Interior MPs closing in, do you deploy the smoke canisters or go for the vertical grapple? Pick carefully—your life depends on the answer.