Shadowrun: A Game of Drones

Coma in Tacoma (Part 1)

A.k.a. Ollie gets a job!

RECORDING: 9/9/2073 …

Is this working!?

Thumping noises…

Okay… test… hello? Anyway, I’m not sure why I’m talking about this. Seems like a bad idea, but if I end up face down on some asphalt one day maybe this might be useful. At worst it’ll be some drek to keep some bored shmuck entertained on the toilet.

So last week we get a call on a job. Usual deal. Meet some stiff at some club, blah blah blah you get the idea. Anyway, the place we end up meeting is Club Infinity. Never been, I’d rather let a dire bear frag me before going back there. Holograms everywhere and every one jacked in with dead looks on their face. Not my kind of place. I’ll take a classic dive bar any day. To me you can’t trust a place unless you can see the shotgun behind the bar. You know?

Anyway, we all go there one by one for some reason. I think some people take running too seriously. It’s a fracking club; people are expected to go there. The Johnson is the typical sort: private room, all you can drink and the usual perks. He doesn’t grace us with a personal appearance; uses a fracking hologram like the rest of the wackos in the place. The gig is legit with a decent payout. Jostein, that poli lovin’ asshole, manages to be useful and kicks up the pay to a cool ¥120k.

So now comes the catch. The job is to off some breeder that’s been in a coma for 9 years. I got no problem with wetwork but what’s the deal with offing some guy who’s been a veg for years already? The Johnson must have some serious bug way up where the credit stick don’t shine. I’m not one to complain though. Soy burgers don’t pay for themselves and this troll needs his 6-8 burger fix.

On a side note, Stuffershack can go frag themselves if they think people don’t notice that they are making the soy burger patties smaller. It used to be that I could get 7 or 8 soy burgers and be good for dinner. Now I need like 10 or 12! And surprise surprise these “new” smaller patties still cost the same. FRAG THAT.

Rustling noises…

Is this still on? Hello? Okay…

So yeah, grease some guy in a coma. Turns out he was some Matrix wiz who probably was jacked in during the last big crash and got dumped hard. The Johnson wants the death to be “natural”. A gunshot to the head is natural right? Anyway, this is all drek, I need to get to the good part.

So the veg is up in this fancy DocWagon clinic in Tacoma. We scout the place and there’s the usual stuff: spirits, magical barriers, cameras, guards, assault teams, sensors… the usual for a corp facility like this. Pretty much means we need to go in quiet. No need to get on the bad side of a corp. While scoping the place one of the hackers gets a brainwave to get one of us on the inside; which means me. BAM. Just like that I’m a legit corp drone doing security for DocWagon.

Guess what… IT’S BULLDREK. First day what do I do? I stand on the FRAGGING PIER all morning watching for… stuff. No fragging clue what the point of doing that was. After wasting my morning on the FRAGGING PIER I head out for lunch and catch up with the team to let them know what’s up. After I lunch I head back. Jostein and Balrog show up a bit later at the DocWagon clinic pretending to be clients. I’m stuck on the FRAGGIN PIER again so I don’t know exactly what Balrog and Jostein are doing. The upshot was that I had access to the basic security feeds so the team could see what was going on without risking another hack.

Now here’s where the drek hits the fan!

Loud clunking noise and a crash…

FRAK! FRAK FRAK! Knocked over my fragging drink.

Loud stomping noise then quiet…

…NO INPUT FOR 5 MINUTES, RECORDING AUTOMATICALLY STOPPED

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Zolt51 emptyrepublic

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