In the Long Shadow of Steel & Glass

Once More Into the Breach
Screech

Screech sets out once again for the Puyallup Barrens and Hell’s Kitchen. Having made his first delivery, he must go down the same roads again, but this time with a trailer.

Once across the Lone-Star service barrier, Screech is on his own in the worst part of town. Soon, he is surrounded by a group of trucks and motorcycles manned by Hell’s Kitchen denizens hell bent on murder and looting. Screech’s Roadmaster, however, is not to be trifled with, and the heavy machine guns mounted on the Tata off-road trucks do little but scratch the armored transport’s paint job. Navigating the treacherous roads claims a few vehicles, and whatever is left, Screech’s Roadmaster mounted Ares MP-LMG tears to bits under a hail of expensive Ex-Ex automatic fire.

His pursuers break off, cutting their losses. Proud of having driven off the Mad Max crew, Screech realizes with some measure of fright that maybe it wasn’t just him that did it… When a massive toxic worm bursts out of the ground and spits some acid on the Roadmaster, Screech decides to take the gloves off and dispatches the beast with a concentrated steam of lead. Proud of overcoming his foes once again, Screech motors off only to notice three more worms headed his way – and one of them looks like a very pissed off mother-worm.

Beating the worms to his drop off, Screech delivers his goods, gets his van hosed down and sets off once again for Seattle proper. The worms close in, but Screech sends his Roadmaster through the front wall of a MondoMart and creates such a ruckus that the worms are unable to track him well and he slips away into the night.

Now all he needs to do is get paid. (And fix his battered Roadmaster!)

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ShadowSea March, 2069
three jobs for three slabs of fresh meat

March has been a rainy month in the Sprawl. A big job got started, but lost steam, and a few smaller jobs are keeping a few ’runners busy and with enough cred in their pockets to pay rent.

Droid Rage! fizzled out, the team unable to find cohesion, even in the initial stages of legwork. Thanks to an extremely politic intervention by Sterling, the group was able to avoid any serious consequences or negative street rep for failing before even beginning.

Sterling later received word from his contact Torin Lowell that he might need some help with collections. Not sure about who exactly he is collecting from, Sterling agreed to the work as it is likely to prove more interesting than his day job at the law offices of Markum, West, Kirkpatrick, Sidney, Elrond and Piper.

Screech took on some work for an enigmatic Japanese, delivering some human cargo to a warehouse in Tacoma. Following the successful resolution of that job, another job came up to transport goods from a Tacoma container facility to a location in distant Puyallup.

An unlucky Blood Eagles go-ganger by the name of Impulse attended a drug deal on behalf of his gang. Their rivals, the Head Takers, met them in an abandoned warehouse near the Tacoma docks. During the sale, LoneStar SWAT surrounded the building and commenced a take-down. In the ensuing shootout, all present Blood Eagles were killed along with several of the Head Takers. Gridiron, the leader of the Head Takers fled the scene and encountered Impulse. After a brief gunfight that found Gridiron wanting, Impulse was felled by police. Waking up in a squad car, Detective McGarnicle – a LoneStar cop with a notorious reputation for doing the dirt – gives the ganger an offer he can’t refuse: Work for the Man… or else.

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Out in the Boondocks
a soured milk run

Screech’s transportation job ends up being a bit more complicated than initially advertised. Whoever set up the job hired some heavy hitters to guard the gear at the port of ingress and left Screech in the lurch in terms of accurate directions. Without having much in the way of area knowledge, much less of the nastier sides of Puyallup, Screech relied on autonav to get him most of the way there. Somewhere along the route, however, autonav no longer provides accurate mapping of the roads. Local gangs, urban decay and wrecks regularly create impromptu or intended roadblocks and radically alter the traffic patterns. After finding himself nearly lost, Screech is in the lone company of a technical – a modified off-road truck sporting an HMG and some serious attitude – headed off into the boiling ash and basalt wastes of outer Hell’s Kitchen. Driving on, he comes to a road block manned by a few of the Kitchen’s anti-social denizens bent on some good ol lootin’. The na’er do wells push two hulked vehicles together to form a roadblock, a mask wearing nutjob atop one of the vehicles fires an anti-vehicle rocket wildly at *Screech*’s oncoming van. The rocket goes wide and Screech dispenses some pretty serious justice from the business end of his Ares MP-LMG concealed in the van’s roof. Flooring it, Screech smashes through the road block, flatting two of his expensive smart tires, but making it through without anything more than cosmetic damage to his beloved step-van. Finding the majority of the remaining route to his drop-off being a one-way-in-one-way-out, Screech nervously allows a few heavily armored sec-ops unload his vehicle before limping home on his damaged tires and turning in, dreading the next day’s run down the same roads – a veritable Ambush Alley.

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On the Lamb
friends like these

Impulse has made it clear of the LoneStar / Head Takers frag-fest of a meet and booked it across town to retrieve whatever of his meager possessions he can lay his hands on. Hurting for sleep, paranoid, on the run from nearly anybody that looks too hard at him, Impulse reaches out to Krash, his Ork Underground contact. Krash arranges at meet at the SEATAC railyards, whereupon he shows himself to be a metahuman of much moral and ethical fiber, provisioning Impulse with a fake SIN, a commlink and a place to lay his head. What is more, Krash promises a source of income in the future – the Ork Underground is always looking for an enterprising young tusker with something to prove.

Calling up Lenny Getz, his arms dealer contact, Impulse tries to find some work. Lenny quickly agrees to meet with Impulse – a move that immediately puts the ork on the defensive. Lenny is as slippery and crooked as they come, and would happily keep a country mile betwixt himself and someone with as much heat as Impulse had coming from around every corner. Knowing he was short on cred, short on time and just about out of options, Impulse heads to the meet – a penninsular park jutting out into the Puget Sound in Tacoma. Knowing that the whole thing looks, smells, feels like a setup, Impulse heads in with his guard up. The local security detail at the gate to the park, seeing a cagey looking ork in bulky body armor trying to walk into their park, intervene, pressuring Impulse to throw the race card and leave in a huff. Briefly casing the exterior fence, he finds a location with no security coverage and, cutting through the barbed wire, hops over and into the park to meet Lenny. The arms dealer, however, is not terribly helpful. Not forthcoming about work, and only asking leading questions, Lenny cements Impulse’s feelings of a setup and, after bidding him farewell, Impulse hops the fence to regain the city. As he clears the shrubs near the fenceline, Impulse spots a huge number of LoneStar cruisers swarming the gate – looks like it was a setup after all.

Calling it a night, Impulse bar-hops before heading back, well sodden, to the SEATAC railyards to catch another bit of rest.

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