New Job, New Team

The calls you all got were different, but as varied as they were, they all boiled down to much the same thing. "Hoi. Yes, I realize what time it is, but this is too important to hold on to. I have a job for you. I need you to be in the Diamond Rabbit in the Sprawl in 2 hours. There's a VIP pass waiting for you at the front door, along with a little cash up front. Pick it up when you get there. Mr' Johnson's giving away 10k for you just for showing up!"

That's why now, at 3am, you're sitting around a table in the back room of a club named the Diamond Rabbit. It wasn't very well known. In fact, you had to call in a little help just to figure out exactly where it was. The combination of those two things leaves you a little less than comfortable. The club is a nice enough place for the Sprawl. But then again, that's not saying much.

Five others are seated at the table with you. None have spoken to you, but then again, none of you need to. All of you carry the air which says Shadowrunner. No further introduction has yet been necessary. Glancing at your watch, you notice the time. 3:05. Mr. Johnson is late....

Randy Dewdrops sits atop an overturned whiskey glass on the table. He idly spins a toothpick in his hands; for him, the implement is the length of his forearm. He ignores any stares that he’s getting from the primitive screwheads in the bar around him. Living among the larger races of metahumanity had made him accustomed to such attention. Pixies are rare enough that most people go their whole lives without seeing one. Consequently, Randy got eye-fucked a lot when he was in public. Still, the miniature runner periodically glances about, giving everyone a look that says he’s gonna suck out your eyeballs and eat them.

Randy is a tiny caucasian man with two pairs of iridescent wings, like those of a dragonfly, folded across his back. The transparent wings have a sheen similar to gasoline, reflecting the neon lights of the bar in a rainbow of colors. His brown hair is shaved in the sides and long on top, while his eyes are little pinpricks of magenta. He is dressed in clothing appropriate to his size: ripped jeans, a white tank top, and boots. He’s 45 centimeters of sex, violence, and rock n’ roll. The pixie would be considered classically handsome if he weren’t one-sixth the size of an adult human, and if he wasn’t covered in prison tattoos. His tiny arms and neck are sleeved with tattoos of gang symbols and Sperethiel characters. He’s dangerous-looking, albeit in an incredibly adorable kind of way.

Randy rubs his stubble-covered chin and motions one of the servers for a drink. He can’t afford to be away too long; he is out passed his curfew. His parole officer was known to make surprise visits even in the middle of the night, so Randy was taking a risk being here. But he needs the work. No one makes a living off of minimum wage. Screw that drek. I could use the nuyen.

Just as you're beginning to wonder if there actually is a Mr. Johnson, the door opens a human woman in her mid-thirties walks in. She's dressed in a white and black corp suit, which screams "ALL BUSINESS." Without speaking, she walks to the empty chair at the table, her heels clicking on the hard floor. Once there, she removes her mirror-shades with both hands. One of her eyes is bright green; the other is a cybereye inscribed with a hologram of a DNA strand.

She sets her glasses softly on the table, pulls out the chair to what seems to be an exactly measured distance from the table, and steps around it before lowering herself into it.

Once seated, she calmly fixes each of you with her stare, and then speaks in a powerful, silky voice. "Did any of you have any problems making your way here?"

Mr. Johnson, you've heard of her; this is far from the first time she's ever hired runners, but all you've heard are rumours. No one's ever worked for her, just known people that have. What little you've heard tells you that she's usually only brought in for the big stuff.

Reina, likewise, your searches reveal nothing on her, but they do turn up a few reports of helos with the same symbol that's in her eye being spotted heading northwest from the city on a semi-regular basis.

Randy Dewdrops picks up a shot glass of soykaf and Bailey’s, bracing it in his arm like it’s a giant tub of popcorn. He takes a quick chug and wipes his mouth with his hand.

The pixie nearly shouts when he speaks, trying to make sure he doesn’t get drowned out by the background noise of the bar. His high-pitched voice is gravelly like Clint Eastwood... if Clint Eastwood took a hit of helium. "Don’t mean no disrespect or nothin’, but if it’s all the same to yous chummers, I’d like to skip the pleasantries and get down to some biz. Why are we here?"

Ness follows the conversation showing little reaction until the pixie speaks up. That's when the corner of his mouth turns up in disgust again. He appreciates someone trying to get things moving along a bit quicker, especially after they had to wait, but what's the point of having a face if you don't let him do the talking.

Your Mr. Johnson's eye twitches, the helix going a bit off-kilter. Perhaps she too would have wanted this to be a more relaxed meeting. However, she nods, and pulls herself up even straighter than she already was. "It's fine. I'll get straight to the point. My corporation, has a... slight embarrassment that needs resolving. We've lost contact with one of our research sites.

"Yesterday night, the plant's automatic security functions all activated. Since that time, no transmissions have been received from the plant, and none have been able to get in. Apparently, the external matrix connections have also been cut. As a consequence, it is believed that the plant's full security system is active, and the plant may have been compromised.

"Your objective would be threefold. One: Make your way into the plant and deactivate the security system. Two: Eliminate or contain any unauthorized personnel. Three: Get the central server back on-line. If objectives one and two cannot be completed, your final objectives change: Get to the server. Download all research records. Destroy the plant.

"Because the run involves potential hazards, I am authorized to pay each of you 35,000 nuyen. If the plant is recovered intact, each of you will receive a 100,000 nuyen bonus.

"However, there are two stipulations. The first is that each of you will be required to wear a microcam on your shoulder throughout the job. The recordings will be given to me at the end of the job. The second is that I will provide your transportation to and from the site via helicopter. The outer defense systems will shoot you down if you use other transport. When you are ready to leave, simply flip the recall switch on your microcam. The helicopter will arrive within five minutes of the recall request.

"Any questions?"

Mr. Johnson slides back from the table, putting her hands in the air as if in defeat. "Alright. For the record, I don't like doing things this way. That was the track I was told to take. The good news is, there's no spirit bugs. This is a genetics lab though. The researchers were trying to unlock latent genes in small mammals. The security functions..." - she makes air quotes with her finely manicured golden nails - "... are quarantine protocols. Given that, I can give you each an extra fifteen kay up front, and another thirty kay if the base is recovered. That being said..."

Her voice changes, sounding more suddenly more street. "If the base isn't destroyed but you frag the crap out of it... That extra is gone."

Ness had followed the exchange between the Johnsons with the slightest hint of approval showing on his face, that is how this should be done, he thinks to himself. But then the male Johnson's pass at the female one puts that look of disgust on Ness' face again.

Randy Dewdrops strokes his tiny chin with his tiny hand and considers the job. It sounded easy enough: genetics lab, quarantine protocols, no bug spirits... but when was anything ever actually easy? Still, the pixie needed the money.

"Honestly, Lady... you had me at 100,000 nuyen. But is there anything we need to be knowing about the animals in that lab? Am I gonna be wrestling dinosaurs or giant rats or some drek? Do I need to worry about critters of the Awakened variety?"