How not to be a Mister Johnson: A beginner’s guide

So Freddie’s still on the shelf thanks to a combination of extensive cybersurgery (new reaction enhancers and an updated control rig) and a desire to spend even more time tuning up his van. I thought this left just me and Neon active on the team with Abbey doing her usually lurking and not being noticed thing, but, well it turned out I was wrong, unfortunately.

Our latest cruel mockery of a job began when Captain Cancer (And isn’t that a bad enough start already?) got a call. The person on the other end didn’t identify themselves, but it was clear that they were in pain just form their voice. They said that they were a Runner and that they had been double-crossed by their Johnson, and that they needed help. They offered to pay us what they would have been paid by the Johnson.

Welcome back to Seattle, have some NERPS

So it’ been a while since I last wrote one of these things. Much of that has been due to relocation, Yep, we left behind awesome exciting classy and cool New York to return to dingy grey acid rain smog and volcanic ash filled Seattle. Yeah, I know it doesn’t seem like a fantastic move, especially given that in the process we gave up a luxury penthouse apartment with swimming pool and all that, but there was some actual logic to the decision.

As cool and awesome as New York is, it’s Runner population is still rather small and insular (Plus they’re all weirdoes) and tends to only operate within the bounds of New York itself. Conversely, Seattle is the Runner capitol of North America, and Its Runner population is accordingly higher. It’s also where Johnsons go to recruit for jobs not just across the city but across the continent and, yes, worldwide. So as boring a city as Seattle is compared to New York, it’s so much better for our job prospects.

Besides, now that Dayglo’s real personality had returned, she was more than a little cranky about us essentially squatting in her place without her knowing.

Crimson Dawn (part 17)

"Welcome on board, Mister Dart. Your seats are on the left, near the front of the cabin." The hostess offered with a voice full of fake warmth and sincerity.

The blond Elven man simply nodded to her and offered a quick thanks as he took his seat on board the Federated-Boeing Commuter, glancing out the window once he was in. Outside was a typically dreary evening at Sea-Tac airport, the tarmac busy with the bustle of operations. Service vehicles and drones buzzed around, tending to the various aircraft and their needs.

"How's it looking out there, Mister Dart?" An Elven woman began as she sat down next to him. Her black hair was a contrast to his blond, but like him, she was dressed in professional casual attire, much like everyone else on the flight.

He glanced out the window again, noting the two men, a human and a Dwarf, heading towards the Commuter. "It's looking good, Ms Dart," he shot back with a small smile. "Especially the flight crew." Moments later the pair of them also entered the cabin, having a short discussion with the hostess before heading into the Commuter's cockpit.

Sim Hell (Remastered)

I hate the foundation.

But we had to go there anyway in order to kill Pierce, so I really had no other option. And so, Me, Freddie, Neon and Captain Cancer (Best not to ask where he came from) plummeted into it, knowing full well that we'd end up having to navigate nonsense dream logic in order to find the nodes and their connections. In theory all we needed to do was indentify the control node and then interact with it to destroy the hose. Of course, since it could be anything and the interaction could be anything, that just meant we were casting a very wide net.

We got an eleventh hour call from Dayglo, which was her asking for help to go reclaim the spirit of the Brooklyn Bridge form Aztechnology for some random neo-anarchist reasons. We said 'yeah, that's nice, will totally get on it' in a way that was a massive brush-off and instead asked her to watch Nobosuke Yamura’s yacht. With that minor obstacle out of the way, we jacked in.

Open plan offices: the Runner's worst nightmare

So in order to stop this while Crazy Digital Murder God CFD conspiracy thing, we needed to steal a piece of prototype software from a NeoNET research facility. While that does seem to be a pretty routine run, there were some caveats (of course) that meant it would be a hell of a lot harder.

The biggest problem was that the research facility in question was within NeoNET's New York headquarters. That meant that security was going to be super-tight and the instant that the shooting started there would be HTR teams on their way. And I don’t mean 'coming straight from the district HQ' on the way, more of the 'they're within the building' on their way which meant that we'd have an escape window so slim as to be near impossible. And while I know I could take them, there were issues like the fact that we wouldn't have Drone support and that I'd have to drag Neon through the line of fire.

So that ruled out the go in shooting approach, as fun as it would have been, Instead, it was time for something a bit more subtle.

The curse of the flaming luchadore

So after being caught in the middle of the dick waving war between NeoNET and Renraku (And me maybe spending a couple of nights at cool New York clubs dancing with cute dumb Elf guys), we managed to get ourselves back on course for our main job that had bought us to New York in the first place. Our investigation of the missing people had turned up teo more "persons of interest" that were still uncounted for either way, which was quickly turning into our only real avenue of investigation. Of course, since both were Shadowrunners, it meant that being hard to find was key to the lifestyle, which was going to make things a little difficult.

Of the two names we had, one held a little more promise than the other, even if the pair were loosely affiliated. Crashdud was a decker who kept a low profile, even by Runner standards, so that wasn't much help. On the other hand, El Fiendo proved to be a lot easier to find Information on given that he was a rather... colourful individual, again, even by Runner standards.

Crimson Dawn (part 16)

Crimson had never made it clear why she only ever met her fixer after hours. Telling him that it was because she didn’t get long enough on her lunch break just simply sounded so earth-shatteringly lame that she could barely bring herself to admit it. So whenever she was at the bland downtown Soycaf shop buying bland Soycaf, it was always well after dark. Fortunately, the place was open twenty-four hours to accommodate customer needs to get something better then Stuffer Shack, which gave her some flexibility.

Even though this was the heart of safe, bland, sanitised corporate downtown, she couldn't help but glance around as she waited for him to arrive. Maybe it was Slicer's training getting to her, but it was something she was more and more feeling the need to do. Size up the place, look for threats and make sure there was nobody about to geek you. It sounded paranoid, bit that sort of thinking had kept him alive for decades in a business that tended towards a short life expectancy.