Boredom, that was it. I was trying to remember what it was that drove me to the streets in the first place. My dad was a semi-successful doctor, and I was just your average rich white kid that enjoyed thrill seeking and target practice. I blew my free ride education learning new and creative ways to interact with the underworld, talking my way into the collective female population’s pants, along with starring on the school’s shooting team. My dad was so proud of the last, but I was just bored. Eventually, a couple guys that I had partied with a few times hit me up late one Saturday night to go to a club they’d found out about. It was there that I had my first intro to runners. Apparently, my friend’s father had pissed off someone real high up in his corp – I found out later the dad had been sleeping with his bosses wife for over a year – and that someone had hired a lone runner to cap my friend for revenge.
When the first shots started flying, I instantly did the two things I did best. First, I saved my own dreck by taking cover. Then, I popped up and delivered a solid headshot with the revolver I always carry for self-defense. I ran before security arrived, but apparently they managed to ID me. By the time I got back to my dorm at school, security forces were already there to try to bring me in.
I decided, then and there, that the runner’s life that I’d heard so much about and had now been exposed to would be a much better life than droning away like a corporate bee. I spent a couple months on the street nearly starving, occasionally picking up odd jobs tracking down a name through some friends or talking playing middleman to hire a runner team. Much as I enjoyed being payed to be Mr. Johnson, I wanted to be on the other side of the table, making the big money and taking the big risks.
It was almost a year after I went to the streets that I got my first job on a runner team. We were gonna do some very simple work. They hired me as an extra gun and to negotiate with Johnson after the run was over. I didn’t get a cut, but anything extra I earned from the payer was mine to keep. It was supposed to be an easy job: break into the building, steal the docs, get the hell out. It’s never that simple though, is it? Wasn’t for us anyway.
From the first the plan went all to hell. The rigger of the group got his arm broke in a bar fight the night before and was still stuck in the hospital, so I had to take over as the driver, trying to both keep my mind on the mission and on the car, while everyone else was planning in the back. When we got there, I got assigned to point. I thought it was an honor, but I didn’t know runners then. I was just a meatshield to make sure the technomancer didn’t get dropped. He popped the locks on the first few doors, but apparently didn’t go to ‘shut the damn alarm off 101’ while he was training. Our techie was opening the last door when they came upon us. I was watching the left hall and the Troll was watching the right. They hit him first, bullets and fire spewing down towards us. Like a stupid chump, I turned and fired with him, bringing down one of the two attackers before taking the bullet to my back.
It lodged in my armor, but it took me a moment to get myself spun around and firing. In that time, they had gotten themselves to either side of the hallway, and they had us all pinned down. The technomancer finally got into the door and leapt through as soon as it was open. I took a few steps back and in, firing as I went. The troll broke out the window and we all rappelled down the building and out to relative freedom.
We had managed to get the documents and it was my responsibility to get the money from the Johnson. I negotiated a 50 percent bonus for damages taken, the extra information we had managed to grab from the area’s net, along with an administrative account the hacker had set up. I returned to my compatriots and delivered the cash, managing to make myself just as much as they walked away with.
Since then, I’ve been working as a face for several different runner teams. I’m still a decent shot with a pistol, but negotiations and interrogations are my fort.
William
Metatype : Human
Mundane
Attributes
Body: 3
Agility: 4
Reaction: 4
Strength: 1
Charisma: 5
Intuition: 4
Logic: 4
Willpower: 3
Edge: 4
Initiative: 8
Essence: 2.5
Knowledge Skills
English : N
French: N
Arabic : 1
German : 1
Literature : 2
Club Music (Rockabilly) : 2
Art (Poetry) : 3
Firearms (Pistols) : 3
Active Skills
Pistols (Revolvers) : 3
Intimidation (Mental) : 5
Etiquette : 4
Con (Fast talk) : 4
Leadership (Persuasion) : 3
Negotiation (Bargaining) : 5
Disguise : 3
Perception : 4
Nautical Mechanic (Sailboat) : 1
Positive Qualities
First Impression
Bilingual
Trustworthy 1
Negative Qualities
Addiction, mild
Cyberwares
Commlink (3/3)
-Redcap Nix OS (1/2)
Cyberears (Rating 2)
Wired Reflexes (Rating 2)
Weapons
Cavalier Scout
4x Regular Ammo (10 shots)
Explosive Rounds (10 shots)
Armors
Form-Fitting Body Armor Shirt
Executive Suite Line Long Jacket
Executive Suite Line Skirt/Trousers
Equipments
Fake License (Rating 3)
Contact Lenses
RFID Sensor
False-bottomed Attache' Case
Fake Sin (Rating 4) - "SilverTongue"
Fake Sin (Rating 4) - "Deadeye"
Contacts
Alex 'Hardhand' (L:2 C:3)
Weaponsmith
David 'Redflash' (L:1 C:3)
Hacker
'Grace' (L:2 C:4)
Fixer
