Your wits.

No guns. This is gonna be bad.

You swing out of the doorway, keeping low to the ground to minimize your profile. You analyze the tactical situation in an instant, the world moving in incredibly slow motion.

Half dozen guards. Two of them in heavy armor with rifles. Other four have bodyvests and handguns. Two hoverbots with electroshock weapons overhead. Eight hostiles total. Priority threat drones; Those shock guns'll shut down my systems in an instant. Armored guys'll might have AP, can't risk a hit until I've seen a bullet impact. Pistols guys are basically noncoms; that caliber won't penetrate unless they land an eye sho-

Your thoughts come crashing to a halt when you see the men in armor responding to your presence in almost real time. You convert your movement into a dive and throw yourself behind the bar as twin bursts of automatic fire fill the air you were just standing in.

Reprioritize. Armor guys are reflex enhanced. Maximum threat.

Landing from the dive with a hand outstretched, you roll to your feet with the momentum, grabbing a bottle from the bar and throwing with enough **** to kill a normal man it as you move. One of the soldiers is struck in the chest, staggering backwards but not ceasing his fire.

A burst of rifle fire catches you on the shoulder on your way into cover. You go spinning down to the floor behind the bar, with damage reports streaming into your vision.

Fuck fuck fuck. Pinned down, no exits, no guns. Think, Zoe!