Shadowrun: Seattle 2072
It’s been a rough few years in the Emerald City…
Hey! Omae! Over here! Yeah, I thought it was you, struttin’ about wearin’ yer lined coat like a runner from the trids. Hey, I ain’t judgin’ ya, it’s what they all wear for the first year or so… at least ‘til they get fingered as a runner in the street because of it. I knew one guy, some crazy Jap tourists asked if they could have their photo taken with him ’cos they’d never met a runner in real life before. Ha! His next pay-check went on some fancy ballistic weave clothin’ I can tell ya.
Anyways, enough gassin’. Word on the street is you’ve finally started gettin’ paid. That’s no mean feat chummer. With the Tempo wars, that Humanis bastard gettin’ elected Governor and the Knights stompin’ about like they got somethin’ to prove, it’s been a tough time for the small-fry lookin’ to get a foot on the ladder. You need the lowdown on that stuff, check out JackPoint, I ain’t a fraggin’ encyclopaedia.
You done interruptin’? Good. Now, don’t get me wrong, all that drek has meant plenty of shadow work for the wiz kids and the top brass, but it’s been fraggin’ tough for the wannabes, the fresh meat, the street punks with pretensions. But you already know all that, right? Hey, I never called you a street punk, you inferred that youself!
You ask me, the best thing you ever did was get in with MacCallister. The guy might look like a 50s throwback, but he’s connected. He’s already passin’ work your way, right? You stay on his good side and you might just make a go of it in the “deniable asset” biz after all.
Last piece of advice, chummer? That’s easy.
Watch your back. Shoot straight. Conserve ammo. And never, ever, cut a deal with a dragon.