“Here’s the thing. These goblins don’t know shit. they’re basically just turds with legs.”

Sylvan Information Run

So Lughaidh’s new job offer by missive was not particularly pleasing to the team. After all you can’t negotiate with a letter. Plus there was the tone. Ex cathedra pronouncements evidently do not engender feelings of joy and contentment in bottom-rung, gutter neo-anarchists. But he did offer 25K a head and that was enough to stow their misgivings for a while.

Lord Z3R0 spent some some time tracking down any mention of a Mr. Morlock on the Matrix and discovered, quite aside from the HG Wells references, that there was – in the 2050s and 60s – a fixer who went by Morlock and operated in Seattle. But most of the info on him suggested he was dead. Z3R0 also tracked down information on Laubenstein Plaza. Lot contacted McAllister since Rourke was off-limits and ordered an auto picker and a mag lock re-sequencer. Perses packed up his newly modded M202 and the three of them got in the van and headed to the parking garage and followed the instructions to the letter. Lot did take some time to a sense the special medallions they were directed to wear. He determined that they were some sort of high-end sustaining focus but he was unsure of the spell.

A little after midnight the team rolled out of the parking garage and headed down to the Plaza. There were very few people in the hotel bar and they were directed to go straight up to 15 where Mr. Morlock had taken the entire floor. When the elevators opened they were met by a gang of burly orks who gave him a bunch of bluster that Perses diffused with some polite, understated threats sending the tuskers on their merry way. Meanwhile Z3R0 was noticing that the wireless traffic in the hotel was incredibly limited even for this time of night. No RFID tags pointing out directions to bathrooms or elevators very limited wireless signals and almost nothing coming from the few hotel guests they can see. And the Wi-Fi that was set up for the hotel lobby itself seemed very outdated.

Up top they met Morlock and found him to be a pasty white dwarf dressed in purple with black and white lace. Understandably they thought him to be a vampire. Further probing and assensing however revealed this to be untrue. Lord Z3R0 tasked one of his agents to evaluate the wireless signals in the local vicinity the hotel. Again he noted that the number of signals was far too low and the software interface was very clunky and outdated. He attempted to access ShadowSEA or even Jack Point to find out what the problem was but he could not find them. Instead he found references to a website called Shadowland BBS which has been defunct for years.

The team then deduced that they had been sent back in time. The team further deduced that Lughaidh had outlived his usefulness and began to make plans to put him out of their misery (and how to best decorate their new apartment building). But there were still 25,000 at the end of it for each of them, and Morlock had agreed to pay them each 6000 up front and 8000 at the end of the job. So – after all – a job is still a job even if you’re guinea pig who’s been sent back in time.

They only had 24 hours to get back to the parking garage and presumably back to their own time so Z3R0 started building up some fake credentials for Perses to pretend he was an agent coming to look at the manuscript. The team rolled up – all entourage, belittling secretaries and browbeating poser elves named Elrand Gylgylad. Z3R0 uploaded the virus and smoked the chintzy outdated IC while Lot took command of Elrand’s mental faculties. Then the group of them walked out of the building with the manuscript in hand.

They headed straight back to the Plaza gave the book to the dwarf and collected their fee. Lot looked up his family in Denver and wired 12 grand to his dad. Perses on the other hand went straight to a bookie and, since it was only September 2050, he got 30 to 1 odds on the Seahawks winning the Super Bowl. He then hired an attorney to invest his winnings in Ares Arms stock and to only release those shares of stock to his biometric scan on January 1, 2072. All told they invested 30,000 at 30 to 1 odds making the winnings 900,000.

They jumped back in the van, went back to the parking garage and followed their instructions to the letter once more. When they drew back out of the lot they were in good old 2072 and went to the lawyer’s office to collect their shares of Ares Arms stock now valued at over ¥1.6 million.

Lughaidh may not be on their ‘to-kill’list anymore.

AAR

Things got dicey with KE given free reign to sniff the shadows for the perpetrators of that plane job. Invisibility was the word, so we all lied low for a bit. Hell, rumor said even the Bad Penny was tapped, which is why it was so shocking when Rourke was the one to flip over my rock.

He set up a meet with Mr. Johnson at Infinity. Not really my neck of the woods or my scene, for that matter, but if it was important enough to Rourke to break radio silence, it was important to me. I’m definitely not brave enough to cross a guy like the Bad Penny’s owner. Either everyone else was indisposed or had bigger rocks to hide under, so Rourke synced me with that Gilette he’s been high on lately. Suited me fine. I’m not a fan of going to a meet without muscle, even if it is the plastic kind.

Places like Infinity take precautions in regards to firearms, a fact which had our razorguy all verklempt. I rang up a buddy, and he came through with some ceramic implements. Anyone else, I’d owe a favor for sure. With Mac though, we have an understanding.

The hardware worked just as advertised on the box and we got in no problem. The Johnson was a tusker in a clown suit. Job was a retrieval of stolen data. Not a Matrix job though. Apparently, Mr. Johnson works for a record label. Someone busted in and snatched the only copy of a datadisk containing some b-sides from JetBlack, a skeleton rocker from my parent’s time.

Seemed like a waste of time for runners of our caliber, but then the troll mentioned the money. That they were willing to pay such a price showed the man was serious. On top of it, Perses was able to talk some more sense into the label stooge, increasing the payout. That bosozuki, metal as he may be, seems to have left some of his brain intact.

We were on the job.

I gave Mac another ring to ask if anyone had been trying to sell rare JetBlack tracks. He pointed me to a local ork thrash frontman who’d been laughing off an email he received advertising that sort of thing. Seems the email had been making the rounds. We decided to look up this ork musician. Nabo is his name if you can believe it.

Turns out his band had a gig that night just outside Touristville. Percy and I procured tickets and also worked out a way backstage to meet with our man. There isn’t much that hard drugs won’t buy you when it comes to ork ex-gangers. Or any gangers, for that matter.

The rocker arranged a meet for us with the senders of the email. We directed him to our turf, the same parking lot we passed along our recently acquired ghoul-bus. I setup in my spot, and Perses remained at ground level to make the meet happen.

A shitty Ford Americar SHO from the ‘50s rolled up, and a scrawny rube poked his head out. He was our man. Kerwin Loomis. Didn’t see a point in wasting time. I locked on to his thoughts, and, without even a struggle, he spilled his story. Turns out his dad had worked for the record label. Guy had got himself laid off and, in a fit of anger, took the disc. Fine. Sure. Whatever. His story didn’t quite pan out, but he had the original with him, so we didn’t care. We relieved him of his goods and paid him his continued existence in exchange.

At that moment, the opposition decided to show itself. Thugs approached from the south woods and turned guns on my man Percy. He was faster though, and so was I. Those he didn’t drop, I scrambled. One man, their leader, was left. We got what we needed out of him, and it didn’t even cost a spell. What did cost a spell was what we wanted. I don’t envy the man when he wakes. That said, I do have a slightly used set of cybereyes and wired reflexes for sale.

We got a hold of Johnson again. Met up and made the exchange. All in a day’s work.

So the team went to ground because Knight Errant and Gov. Brackhaven had just set up a new task force to track down the perpetrators of the Federated Boeing hijack. The team spent another month lying low. Rourke got word to them that he believed that the mega-corporation that was looking into them was making things too hot around the Penny. Rourke let them know that he would get in touch with them when he felt it was safe but for the meantime that they should use intermediaries and look for another fixer. Period so the team crashed at their flats sucking down soy products.

Lot and Perses got a call from a fixer named Smiley offering them some work.

Music Biz AAR

December 3rd, 2071:

The team had gone to ground for several weeks following the incident with Aztechnology’s secret lab and their evident efforts to strike at the team. Builder has not been seen since. His bike is still parked at the lot behind the Penny. Rourke got word to the team that Hands apparently was hit a few hours after they sold him the cryo-bus. the strike team was specifically after the bus and any cargo it may have contained. Hands is evidently quite displeased with the Lot and Clive.

While going through inventory at Queenie Beth’s, Lot was approached by a short, emaciated figure that seemed a bit out of sorts. The creature gave Lot a card, seemingly from a strange Tarot deck, and asked him and his friends to meet with his master at midnight for an apology and an offer of employment.

The team agreed to the proposal and drove to the address in the Barrens. There they found an old apartment tower rising fifteen stories from the center of a lot ringed by strip malls. The lot was inhabited by more of these stunted wiry creatures (which Lot identified as Goblins – a type of infected dwarf)The full moon and the mist rising from the ground gave the entire place a strange, otherworldly feel.

The were led inside by another goblin dressed in a waistcoat and fob chain, quite a bit apart from the rest they had seen. He took them up the only working elevator (apparently powered by a gas generator) to the 14th floor. They could see stars above them though no technology was apparent to create such an effect.

They were brought in to meet with Mr. Johnson, who introduced himself as Lughaidh. He apologized to Lot for the incident at the school and having been much harassed by the team, finally was able to offer them the work that he had brought them for. Lughaidh clearly came to dislike each of them, except for Lord Z3R0 who inexplicably kept his mouth shut the whole time.

Lughaidh asked them to eradicate a quasi-military gang in the barrens and agreed to pay them each 35,000 nuyen just to shut them up. The gang was called Hakeswill’s Marauders and let by a particularly odious fellow who called himself Colonel Hakeswill. Lughaidh asked that they be eradicated within seven days and that his mark, another strange Tarot Card, be placed on the forehead of each of the victims. The group left to plan the job.

They had been kicking around a few ideas and collecting imagery on the place when Clive piped up “why don’t we just crash an airplane into the place?” the table was quiet for a moment, then as discussion of more routine plans began again Lord Z3R0 said with a look of wonder “wait. Seriously. Can we do that?” and a new type of mayhem was born.

They began contemplating this attack in earnest and decided that it would be necessary to spoof any spiders or IC that might try to back track Z3R0 during the hijack. They contacted Rourke to see about getting a new agent to use as well as a better spoof program. Rourke assured them that he could get both at level 6 for a 10% mark up within five days. The team ultimately settled on a plan that involved stealing a fueled airliner from Federated-Boeing that was about to be flown to its buyer. Preferably the plane would be entirely empty, or at least minimally manned. Z3R0 began probing the Boeing matrix for holes in the firewall.

December 8, 2071:
After Rourke delivered on the Agent, the plan was set in motion. Lord Z3R0 hacked the military grade Node onto the plane itself. Apparently FB used the internal pilot program to taxi the aircraft around the tarmac. He cut inside the node, with none the wiser, then set about hacking he pilot program to disable the internal fail-safes controlling navigation. That finally did trigger an alert and several IC programs were launched to castigate the intruder. One began a trace and the new Agent immediately began spoofing.

Another launched a Black Hammer attack against Z3R0 but the hacker was ready for it and deflected it handily. Meanwhile, Z3R0 was uploading the plane’s new flight plan – directly into the old Redmond mansion that Hakeswill’s goons had taken as a residence. The Aircraft began to taxi and the IC began another attack. But before it could be completed, Z3R0 turned off the wireless link to the aircraft. he suffered some dumpshock, but the IC programs were not capable of re-programming the Pilot program and they simply rode as passengers, having driven the intruder from the node.

Pieced together from various reports and the surveillance that the team had on FB and the target, this is what happened: Security vehicles raced away from he main buildings to try to catch the plane. They were unsuccessful. Several small drones were dispatched to chase the jet liner but they were unarmed surveillance units. A pair of helicopters were also dispatched by they were only armed with light machine guns and targeted the fuselage – or perhaps their corporate masters were disinclined to shoot down so many million of nuyen worth of airplane. In any event, the liner lifted into the air on its way to its final destination spraying jet fuel behind it from the uncapped tank and the hose torn from the fueling truck.

At McChord Air Force Base, alert 5 fighters were scrambled, as well as from the USS Colin Powell but the jet liner was already over halfway to its target before they launched. Other Corporate military assets were scrambled as well throughout the Metroplex but they were defensive measures.

In Redmond, the team could see that Hakeswill had just come out onto the porch to bum a smoke off his minions stationed out there. As he took a drag he looked up into the night sky, then stooped forward, squinting his eyes. the cigarette fell from his lips as he flung men away from him scrambling towards the railing. He leapt over the rail, falling as if in slow motion as the moon highlighted the jetliner screaming towards the house.

He seemed suspended in mid-air as the nose of the plane punched through the front door at over 500 miles per hour. moments later the building disappeared in a flash of light and for a moment Hakeswill was seen rocketing through the air out over the broad lawn. Lot sent an air spirit to carry Lughaidh’s card around to all the bodies that could be identified, discharging tehir final covenant.

The News-faxes and shadow-feeds were all abuzz with speculation as to the incident and public outcry was strident, though at least it only crashed in the Barrens.

“This unprecedented¹ terrorist act has caused aviation authorities throughout North America to rethink their security procedures. Federated Boeing is now revamping its security policies to ensure that wireless capabilities are disabled unless pilots are also on board the aircraft. There has been speculation as to why such an audacious attack would have been directed at such an unimportant target as a abandoned mansion in the Redmond Barrens. Still no terrorist organization has come forward to claim responsibility for the attacks.”

Other News Stories of Interest:
Terrorist Aircraft Attack (December 8, 2071)
Governor Brackhaven initiates new KE Task-force (December 11, 2071)

¹ (The September 11 attacks never happened in the SR universe)

Jet Crash Run AAR

08 Nov. 2071
1200 hours

The team has been made . . . all their contacts are talking about them having draw the ire of Big Brother . . . Z3R0’s commlink has been hacked. The extent of the breech is unknown but much of his data is out there. and Builder is still missing. Where is he? Has he been taken by Big Brother?

On top of all this, it looks like the Star has given up Redmond entirely. There may soon be out-and-out gang warfare in the Barrens . . .

A few members of the team took a last minute favor mission for Cotter to watch his back while dropping off a shipment of guns . . . it did not work out so well for the gangers that were receiving the shipment. Cotter only rousted Lot and Gyoza to help him but they all went to the meet at an abandoned school in Redmond. Lot assensed it astrally and Gyoza walked the ground several hours before the meet. Everything looked clean, so Gyoza rode shotgun for Cotter, while Lot parked himself on top of a water tower about 400 meters to the southwest.

Everything started out fine. Lot experienced some high winds on top of the water tower and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up for a moment, but it soon quieted down. The gangers rolled up with two heavy vans and a pair of trucks with pintle mounted machine guns in the back. Cotter went to meet the leader and the transfer began. Gyoza noticed that the crew was mostly newbs armed with pistols and shotguns, but about 5 looked pretty experienced and were better equipped.

As the newbs were transferring the last crate of goods, the leader authorized the transfer of funds into Cotter’s account. “Well, that’s it. Lets go” Cotter turned to Gyoza but then his eyes widened as the junk piled near the front door of the school began to move. An automated heavy machine gun swiveled into view and began barking .50 caliber death into the Gangers.

The leader barely had time to utter an epithet before he was churned into hamburger. The newbs carrying the last box paused with a stupefied expression before they too were dismembered. Loud flashes exploded over the whole area dazing Cotter, Gyoza and the rest of the gangers. Lot, from atop the water towers could see that a pair of LEBD-1 roto-drones had begun firing grenades at the vehicles form over 300 meters out but the cross-range was too long to make out any details or even to accurately target them. Still, Lot quickly realized that the sentry gun was targeting the gangers exclusively, shredding the heavy vans and destroying the bodies sheltering behind them.

Gyoza and Cotter high-tailed it out of there in Cotter’s own van while the technicals opened fire on the sentry gun’s position, trying to cover the surviving ganger’s retreat. Lot scrambled down from the water tower and trotted off to his car. As they cruised away from the site, they could still hear desultory fire from the sentry gun, but certainly at least a dozen of the gangers died under its fire. . . . check out this similar footage
Cotter was a bit shaken but happily paid Lot and Gyoza their 2500 nuyen.

Cover for Cotter AAR

Now the team is going to take some down time. Older wiser heads are suggesting taking a month or two off. Train up, get some new gear and just lay low off the radar. And maybe scrub those commlinks and get new contact numbers. If Z3R0’s been hacked any of you could be . . .

I could see that our hired muscle had eyes on Hands’s bodyguard, so I kept my sights trained on the buyer’s backup. Can’t be too careful when you’re moving something so valuable. I was a bit on edge after our encounter with the gangbangers and I won’t lie and tell you that my trigger finger wasn’t itchy.

My link sputtered to life and I cursed silently. Thought I’d shut it off. With a glance I could tell that it was Rourke and marked urgent. I dropped the visual cues and put the man on audio-only while I returned to my silent countdown, marking each target, ready for movement.

Rourke sounded frantic. Gangbangers had nabbed Gyoza. He sound more pissed that the go gangers had been on his lot than he was that Gyoza could be in harms way. Can’t say I blame him. Man has a rep to keep up. Rourke’s not one to phone without a solution, and he had one in the guise of some rigger with a pack of metal hounds. I agreed to talk to him.

This rigger asked for a lot of detail upfront. That’s the first thing that told me he used to wear a shield. Told him to look for a dwarf razorguy. Seemed to be enough. Next thing he beamed in that he made contact. Flooded my interface with video screens. Rigger definitely packs a bunch of drones. Next thing he takes down a ganger (I could see they were Chiller Thrillers now), blasting him among a crowd of tourists on the path. That’s the second thing that told me he was a cop. Definitely Lone Star’s MO.

By this time, I’d made it to the junker with Clive and the muscle. I passed the feed on to Clive who confirmed that Gyoza slipped from the trunk in the chaos and immediately went incognito. Rigger passed along that the job wasn’t done until he located the gangs hideway. It was done as far as I’m concerned. We collected our man and high tailed it back to the Penny. Rourke assured us he had the Rigger’s fee covered. Otherwise, we’d have taken it from Gyoza cut of the bus sale.

Thrillers are getting aggressive. I’m definitely getting a DocWagon subscription in the morning.

November 7, 2071
0-dark-thirty (approximately 0330)

While the rest of the team was selling the bus, Gyoza headed out behind the Penny to get his bike and go home. However, out back he found Slicer-Dicer and several gangers waiting for him with stun batons. Slicer chopped at Gyoza with his club, but dumpling ducked the blow, drew his iron and shot Dicer in the chest with his Ruger Super Black Hawk. The APDS rounds punched through Dicer’s armored vest like it was tissue paper, throwing him back on his ass. For a moment, as Dicer clutched his wound with a stupefied expression, it looked like Gyoza was going to finish off this little feud with a single bullet.

But then the rest of the goons reached him. Gyoza dodged the first blow, but the second landed solidly and a third goon hit him for good measure. The electricity of the stun batons caused Gyoza’s nervous system to overload, incapacitating him. The goons wasted no time zip-tying and gagging him then throwing him in the trunk of a car . . .

. . . Mean while, back in the Penny, the recently laid off Lone Star rigger ‘FNG 2’ strolled in through the back door, looking for a beer and hoping Rourke had found him a lead on some work. He had noticed some gangers futzing around with the trunk of an old beat up Americar, which he thought was a bit odd since Rourke is well known to take a violently dim view of gang bangers.

In fact, as FNG 2 came into the bar, he could see that Rourke was looking grimly at two trid feeds, one was clearly the back alley lot. “Hoi FNG” Rourke looked up for a moment as he entered “I got some quick work for you. wait a tic.” FNG 2 nodded and headed to the can to collect himself. When he came out Rourke told him he needed the gangers who were just in the back lot tracked and punished. 2k for the job. FNG 2 agreed and Rourke told him that there might be a guy who had been kidnapped in the back of their car. Rourke put FNG 2 in touch with Lot to coordinate actions and make sure that Gyoza didn’t get pasted.

FNG 2 spooled up his roto drones and took off with his scout drone in the lead. He left the Dobermans back with the van for later deployment. It did’t take long for the drones to catch up with the gangers, 2 slags on bikes following a beat up old red Americar. They had no idea they were being tailed and were moving slowly through the slumming bar crowds that were making their way home from Touristville to their much nicer places . . . elsewhere.

As the bikers were cat calling across the street to a bunch of little hotties, the Roto drone opened fire with its HK 227. The bullets slapped into the left most rider but his armor absorbed much of the impact and he gunned his bike to get away. He was hampered by the crowd though and the drone’s next burst splattered his brains onto the bystanders while miraculously missing them with bullets. His bike and body crashed to the ground and the second biker opened fire on the roto drone to no effect. Meanwhile the Americar slammed into reverse to turn to follow the remaining biker. As it shifted back into drive, Gyoza (who had already freed himself and found the trunk release) simply rolled out of the back, holding the trunk with a free hand to close it again gently. The car sped away, and he activated his chameleon suit, slipping away in the confusion. Unfortunately his Ruger and the rest of his weapons were still in the cabin of the car.

FNG 2’s scout drone followed the gangers to an old abandoned service station about three klicks away and Rourke and Lot considered the mission complete.

November 7 2071 “0-dark-thirty”

Z3R0 jacks in to the modified bus and fights past the firewall. In less than a minute he has control of the vehicle and the team is rolling out. The runners E&E from the secret lab in their newly acquired cryo-bus. Moments later Lord Z3R0 gets a message linked through the bus:

“park vehicle in the lot across from Mitsuhama’s Everett facility. While there input link for transfer of funds.” Everett or even Redmond are still a ways off when Clive gets a call from Rourke:

“hey there chummer. You got some hot merch? Steel Toe just told me that a guy flashed him holo of you with some crappy mustache and wanted to know if he knew you. Steel told him to buzz off but the guy said he’d be willing to pay top dollar to purchase any of you new acquisitions. Anyhow, just thought you should know.”

Lot can’t suppress a soft chuckle. “Steel Toe’s ‘guy’ is obviously a setup. I say we go with that one.”

Clive sighs, “I don’t know, I thought Camel Toe was trustworthy, no? Heh. And why didn’t anyone tell me that mustache made me look fat?”

Lot “I’m not saying Steel Toe is setting you up, but this guy probably is. Think about it: Who would have a picture of you with that caterpillar on your lip other than someone from your recent place of employment?”

Clive looks down at his PDA, where he just ShadowTweeted his likeness of Jimmy Jimson not moments ago and attempts to look nonchalant, “Yeah, uh, I think you are on to something here. Let’s follow your lead on this.”

Lot suggests asking Rourke to look for a buyer then adds that “Hands” might be interested. The team arrives at the Penny and goes in to talk to Rourke. They find him chatting across the bar with an obvious Gillette that the team has never seen before. Cotter yells a greeting across the bar but Lot ignores him.

Clive chats up Steel Toe while Lot asks Rourke about a possible buyer. Clive learns that the guy asking about him and his ‘acquisitions’ was a Japanese suit who looked like he could handle himself.

Clive makes a call to “Hands” and he agrees to meet the runners in an abandoned mall’s parking lot just outside of Touristville in 2 hours. Clive is still flying high on the stims and other chemicals he used while in the lab, but Builder and Gyoza are hurtin’ units. They decide to sit this one out. Rourke vouches for Perses, the Gillette he’s talking to, and Lot and Clive agree to take him along for the meet as an ‘audition.’ Persesagrees to go and they set off to case the place.

Z3R0 is driving while simultaneously watching the news feeds of the fighting going on between KE and the Azzies and Kreiger’s assets at the lab site as well as the ShadowSEA feeds on the same subject. At the same time he is playing his hacked WOWIII character. On the feeds he sees his van parked several blocks away from the site. It seems safe enough at the moment, but there are mortar and missiles flying about.

The Team gets to the site early and Lot parks his TR3 between some abandoned old crappers across the lot. He takes his rifle and heads up to the roof of an abandoned office building that is off the south west corner of the lot. Some squatters are warming themselves by a barrel fire and one gets an idea to shake the newcomer down. But as Lot move into the light of the only operational street lamp, the squatter realizes that he’s brought a knife to a gun fight and heads back the way he came.

Up top, Lot has a clear view and Clive parks the bus in the lot about 60 meter from the building. Persessteps out of the bus and the team settles in to wait. A few minutes later, a couple gangers come out of the wood line to look at the nice shiny new bus that dropped into their turf. Several more come out to join them and it is clear that they have been partying with some sort of mind altering substance. They elect one of their number to head over and shake down FNG. Perhaps because of the poor light or the drugs or booze or a generally lackluster mental capacity, the ganger does not seem to notice that the man leaning against the bus is holding a Stoner-Ares M202 medium machine gun.

The ganger’s bluster and bravado is met with a flat, wooden stare and he seems at a loss for what to do. The gang-banger seems relieved when Clive steps out of the bus and tries to turn his bluster on him. After a few choice expletives, Persesstates, deadpan, “I don’t like people who swear.” The ganger is nonplussed and Clive raises two fingers towards the ork’s face and pantomimes a gun shot. The ganger is thrown sideways as his forehead is blown off by a sniper round.

The other six, still at the edge of the parking lot, are shocked but start drawing weapons. Clive raises his other hand, dual-wielding finger pistols at them. Persesraises his machine gun and goes full auto, dropping three ’bangers. The air shimmers around the other three and they fall to the ground drooling. Two of the ones dropped by machine gun fire crawl away down the slope at the edge of the lot. One is stilled by another sniper round and FNG rushes forward to decapitate the other with his katana.

The team gathers up the gangers and ends their miserable existence. Lot retrieves his two spent shell casings. “Hands” arrives a short time later and buys the bus for 65,000 and offers the runners 6000 for the remains of the gangers. They take both deals and head back to the Penny a good deal richer. Their erstwhile Johnson, Keith, also releases 5000 into their accounts.

Bus Sale AAR

So we return to our campaign in November 2071

These are the connection/loyalty ratings of some the new contacts you guys have made:

Contact	Rating
Rourke	5/4
Red	4/3
Lorenzano	3/2
“Hands”	4/1
Knuckles	3/1
Cotter	2/2

The team made it to the third level of the complex and quickly discovered the bolt-hole krieger evidently intended to use. Clive nearly had his head ripped off by a grotesque ghoul that was immensely strong and crawled on the ceiling.
The team scragged the creature then ambushed the mining robot that was tunneling in from another shaft.

the party exfilled and discovered kreiger’s planted bus with what looks like cryogenic storage devices onboard. never ones to overlook loot, the team took the bus and ran. of course they left all of their ‘allies’ back in the complex with the ghouls and the impending threat of nerve gas . . .