Shifts in Power

The Plan

A Fork in the Road

The October night was still young and brisk, and the group spent the first couple of blocks in sobered silence. Droneslinger was the first to speak up.

“We need a plan,” he said quietly enough for the group to hear. “You don’t know me, but I can offer my drones to help cover some ground so we can be everywhere at once. It’ll just take me some time to set them up.” He gestures towards his armored van parked down the street.

Everyone stopped at the corner and looked towards his van. Snowflake offered to break the brief silence, “Sounds good. The shaman and I will head back to the bar and see about getting more information.”

“Pipes,” Piper said while looking at Snowflake. “And you are?”

Everyone exchanged names and contact information. Droneslinger laughed, “I wonder if that captain even knew we didn’t know each other!” The girls chuckled softly at the remark, and Droneslinger turned and walked towards his van while saying, “Alright, I’ll get things started. Meet me back here, and do contact me first so there won’t be surprises.”

They nodded and continued down Powell towards the Leaky Brain.

No guards were seen posted outside when they arrived. Upon stepping inside, they were greeted by the bright light of the fully lit interior of the bar. Omar was seen hunched over the bar top wiping it down. This would look normal if it weren’t for the plethora of bullet holes everywhere, shattered windows and mirrors, and broken bottles behind the bar.

Omar looked up towards them as they entered, “Can’t you see the bar’s closed?” He nearly interrupted himself and immediately continued, “Oh! It’s you two. The captain sent you to put me out of my misery?”

“No,” Pipes said briefly and amused.

“We’re here for information,” Snowflake added.

“RIght down to business. I had a feeling about you ladies.” Omar stepped down from his stool while saying, “Have a seat, and let’s chat.”

Chairs were put up atop each functional table, and Pipes and Snowflake headed towards the nearest table, pulled down the chairs, and politely sat down.

Omar didn’t seem interested in sitting down when he got to their table. “I’d offer you girls a drink, but you shot up the place!” Not interested in starting this conversation off as a competition of who-did-what, they stared at him blankly.

Looking around, the bar seemed empty except for them, “We need information on the Wolf Syndicate, and I’m told you’re the—”.

“Listen, lass,” Omar interrupted. "Everyone knows I dislike these dogs more than anyone else in this territory, and to have some hood rats walk in here and shoot up the place over a grudge I’m not a part of…

“Shadowrunners, eh,” he asked after he managed to regain his composure. “You’re not the only one interested in knowing more about them. Isn’t it awfully convenient that rival southeast gangs suddenly got along and formed this here syndicate?”

Piper nodded in agreement. Omar continued, “I may not have the information you’re looking for as I’m looking for the same thing, but it’s something I can’t do myself. My bar may be shot up, but I’m still good for offering a job. What do you say about sneaking back into their station and grabbing Intel about them from their servers?”

“We’ve already accepted a contract from their captain,” Snowflake said professionally. “I’m not one to break contracts.”

“Well, you wouldn’t need to,” Omar exclaimed. “In fact, it’s probably that much easier that you’re on a job with them! I’m in no rush, and I’ll front you some money now. Just grab data from their server warehouse in the middle of their compound, and I’ll pay you well for each credible and usable piece of information.”

“Besides,” Pipes offered to Snowflake, “we technically didn’t sign a contract with them!” This raised an eyebrow from her.

“Very well,” Snowflake calmly. “1500 nuyen now, 1500 for completion, and 500 for each usable piece of Intel.” She folded her arms.

“I can tell there’s no changing your mind on this. Deal.” Omar messaged Snowflake the agreement. This surprised her as she hasn’t shared her contact with him. The surprised look on her face prompted Omar to wink at her. “This old dwarf still has a few tricks, lass.”

“Deal, but there’s still the matter of us completing our job. The other piece of information we hope to get from you is how to get into West Portland under cover.”

“You’re in luck then. If I don’t know the information, I certainly know where to get it.” He then looks up the second floor before shouting, “HEY! CUCKOO! GET DOWN HERE! I’VE GOT INTRODUCTIONS TO MAKE!”

In an unceremonious fashion, Cuckoo was heard stumbling over a chair before collecting himself and walking down the stairs from the second floor with an empty cup in his hand. He was an elf with a Mohawk and wearing jeans and an armored leather coat. “Oh! I thought I heard company,” he bellowed.

“This here is Cuckoo. I called him up when I overheard something about Lucid Dynamics in northwest Portland.”

“Yeah,” Cuckoo says as he approaches the table. “I know a guy who can ferry us across. He and I go way back.”

Pipes chimed in, “nice to meet you, Cuckoo. There’s still the matter of payment. We have another with us, and he’ll need a cut of the payment, too.”

“Ah,” Omar remembered, “that cowboy-looking fellow! Then it’s settled. I’ll pay your friend as well.” He points at Cuckoo, “and you don’t get a dime! You owe me.” Cuckoo gasps, puts his hands up, and lets out a short chuckle.

“Sounds like you have a full night ahead of you,” Omar concludes. “Best of luck.”

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