Our home, the place we’re sworn to protect, is Bakunin. Now think for a second what that must mean.

You have VaudeVille, right? Packed with weirdos with exotic implants doing designer drugs, Pupniks who lost their owner—little rascals can be quite dangerous when agitated—, Chimeras high on heck-knows-what… Sounds like a darned pain to police, doesn’t it? Shoot, that’s the easy part. The real nightmare is this place right here, Praxis. This is where you have the Black Laboratories and the real weirdos. This place exists for cutting-edge experiments, for scientific anarchy. ‘Fringe technology’ means you’re delving into uncharted territory, and sometimes it goes wrong and stops working. Other times, it goes haywire and becomes an almighty problem. When that happens, the Moderator Corps is not going to cut it, so they send us in to find the weirdness and beat the devil out of it until it stops acting up. It’s never easy, but that’s why we’re the Special Weapons and Suppressive Tactics team, we’re elite. When you’re up against freaking mad science, you have to make your own rules and improvise. And if every once in a while that means taking a bunch of Morlocks and throwing them into the fray to buy us a few minutes and some room to maneuver, so be it. It’s not going to keep me up at night, and if you folks object to that, well that’s your problem. As I said, we make the rules here. Tell us what’s the issue and we’ll take care of it, but don’t tell us how to do it, ‘cause that’s our job. And believe me; we’re darned good at it.