Today’s thread is a sequel to this one from earlier in the week. Last time, you and 39 comrades are in a remote settlement besieged by an enemy intent on killing, cooking, and eating you, unfortunately not in that order; said enemy has already killed two-thirds of the settlement’s original population, including your best friend. Tthe 40 survivors were presented with the option sof fighting on valiantly or suiciding relatively painlessly. Butin this iteration, you are suddenly given the means to either extricate yourself and your companions from the plight without killing anybody, or to do so in a ruthless and bloody fashion. Whch do you choose?
That should be enough for the TLDR folks. People who insist on details should scroll down a little.
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Just as you’re about to make your decision whether to go Valkyrie or Kevorkian, you hear a familiar beeping. Your hyperspace cell phone – which you had thought irreparably damaged early in the siege – was in fact in self-repair mode all this time. The nanites have just finished their work–meaning you now can call for help from Rhymer Enterprises, that ethically ambiguous band of technomages and mercenaries whose CEO is, happily, fond of Dopers. Telling your comrades not to do anything rash, you grab the phone, hit the panic button, and are quickly connected to Dream Girl, formerly of the Legion of Super-Heroes, painting her fingernails while naked as she often does.
“Hi there, DoperName!” Dreamy says. “You seem to be in a spot of trouble.”
“You should know!” you reply. “My friends and I are about to be killed and eaten. Tell Skald to get over here and save our asses!”
“In the first place, the Boss does not do rescue mission himself, and even if he did, he is busy hunting humpback whales right now. Those things aren’t going to go extinct all by themselves, you know. And in the second place, I believe your enemies intend to eat you alive. Be precise okay?.”
“What the–you already know?”
“Of course I know, idiot. I’m a fucking precog. I previsioned this call two weeks ago. Unfortunately I had to wait for the call to actually happen before I could intervene, or it would have caused a paradox that would’ve ended up killing you, specifically. If you’d just popped for the bulletproof phone case so you could have called at the first sign of trouble, things would have been different. Anyway, I did have a fortnight to get ready. I’ve prepared something to enable you to save your own damn elf.”
With that Dreamy presses a button, and suddenly small metallic object6s begin flying at your body. Before you can blink twice you are wearing a suit of powered armor [del]designed by a brainwashed and weeping Tony Stark[/del] purchased at a fair price from Stark Enterprises.
“Alrighty then,” Dream Girl says once you’re suited up. “The onboard AI is set to allow you to use the armor for the next 24 hours, which should be plenty of time to extricate yourself from your current predicament. Now I’ve analyzed your tactical situation, and the bad guys have got nothing that can stand up to you. So you could just emit a ultrasonic whine that’ll knock out the freaks without killing them; that’ll leave them disabled for about six hours., during which time you can load your companions into their transports and escort them to safety. On the other hand, you’ve got repulsor rays and super-strength and rocket boots and mini-missiles and all that shit, so if you feel like avenging the 80 aid workers the bad guys already barbecued and ate, get to it.”
“What should I do?” you ask them.
“Like I care,” Dreamy replies. “Just remember that the armor will disassemble itself and return here in 24 hours. Anyway, my shift’s over, and I’m hitting the mall. Toodles!”
With that she signs off.
So what do you do? Get yourself and yours out as peacefully as possible? Go on a killing spree to avenge your buddies? Or something in between?
