SDMB Shadowrun Campaign chapter 2: Golden Rule - players only!

The Game Room
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Nail says his piece to Jackal. Amazingly, the cyborg appears to relax a bit. He certainly doesn’t want to die, and his better judgment begins to surface.

“No way I’m just walking away without any insurance,” Jackal says. “A trade, then. You get Johnson, I get your crazy monkey friend. Soon as I’m far, far away from you freaks, I’ll let the turd go. That’s the deal. Take it, or pull the trigger, but you better hope I don’t decapitate this fool first.”

Goethe enters the room along with the surviving UO agent.

The rest unfolds like a horror movie in front of Nail’s eyes. Goethe confidently walks toward Johnson, and smashes the CEO with a perfect right hook. The man crumbles like a dropped sack of potatoes.

Nail can see it in Jackal’s mechanical eyes - the predatory animal that can’t be convinced or reasoned with. Before Johnson has even hit the ground, Jackal and Nail react simultaneously. Jackal twists Seneth’s head with the sound of a horrifying snap, as Nail’s bullet slams into the cyborg’s skull.

Jackal staggers backward from the impact of Nail’s hit. He’s finished, but he doesn’t know it yet. The UO agent is slightly slower to respond, but opens fire with a stream of bullets that smash into the center of Jackal’s body. The ork falls to a knee as his systems begin to shut down. He struggles to stand, but manages only to upset his balance, falling face first into the floor.

Nail approaches Jackal, gun drawn, to confirm the kill. The ork’s breathing is shallow and gurgled. He attempts to speak, causing blood to spray from his mouth with each syllable.

“Hope it was worth it,” the ork cyborg says. His last words.

Goethe and Nail immediately run to Seneth. The mage’s face is blank, his eyes staring into the distance. Jackal was true to his threat; cyborgs never bluff. Seneth Keluszon, the powerful but unstable, owl worshiping mage, has died. Goethe and Nail share a look of shocked disbelief.

Perhaps the last person either of them want to see then stomps boisterously into the room. 4509 surveys the scene with cold, emotionless calculation, and sees Johnson on the floor, unconscious but alive…

“Valued Synthcorp employees,” a soothing female voice shouts over the building-wide broadcast system, “There has been a change in management. Please resume your duties, and an authorized Universal Omnitech representative will be with you shortly to assist you in transitioning to your exciting new career!”

“Those bastards don’t waste any time!” Donovan says over the comlink. “Kirk and I were monitoring Jackal’s vitals from here. I knew you could do it!” Donovan’s enthusiasm betrays the fact that he doesn’t know about Seneth. His congratulations fall on deaf ears, as none of the group feels particularly like celebrating. A string of corpses lie in the crew’s wake, especially in the last battle. Nail and Goethe each can’t help but feel that the price for this victory was much, much too high.

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4509 messages Walken, and Walken alone, over his comm: “I have Johnson. I can kill him.” The cyborg stands over the unconscious businessman, uninterested in Seneth’s fate. The barrel of one of his pistols is aimed at Johnson’s head, ready to finalize the takeover.

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Walken responds, “I think your crew has seen enough bloodshed. Give him to the Chinook. We’ll do him quiet, in secret, once this business settles down. We don’t want to drive valuable Runners away.”

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The cyborg keeps his weapon pointed at Johnson, considering in silence for a long moment. Finally both his pistols spin on their rails and slide back into his forearms.

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For a few moments, Nail stands stupefied. He stares horrified for a few seconds back and forth between his gun and Seneth, when his body suddenly and violently snaps out of it. Tears well up in his eyes while his fists simultaneously clench in a rage that Nail hasn’t felt for many years. He storms over to Goethe and says in a voice both extremely angry and tinged with the desperation of somebody who is about to snap: “I had the situation under control, Goethe!” His whole body is shaking and he puffs himself up instinctively, getting up in Goethe’s face. He would want nothing more than to sock him hard on the chin.

But he doesn’t. Barely managing to get in control of his emotions, he backs down silently, turns, and starts walking back towards the control center. At the threshold of the room, he turns to Goethe and says coldly, “You heard Jackal… I hope it was worth it.”

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As Nail approaches, Goethe can see the rage welling inside of him. Goethe braces for the inevitable beatdown that Nail is about to give him, and Goethe realizes that for the way things turned out, he probably deserves it. Then again, in battle one has to make split-second decisions without full knowledge of the situation. Collateral damage is an awful but still inevitable part of war. Given what he knew was going on, Goethe would still make the same decision, whatever cold sliver of comfort that fact brings. We all knew this mission had a high chance of being a one-way trip for any of us. Seneth was aware just as much as any of us. You run; you die. It’s not really a matter of if…but when. And, being of the race that has the shortest natural life-expectancy amongst homo sapiens, Goethe tends to take a bit more of a blithe view toward his own mortality. But still, losing a crewmate is always a tragedy, and while Nail may hurt more than Goethe over it, being naturally more empathic and let’s face it, in the end a nicer person, the ork still feels a pit in his stomach and guilt over the whole thing, even if he doesn’t truly have regrets.

When the beatdown doesn’t come, and Nail backs off, Goethe almost wishes it had happened, because at least Nail would have something to direct his anger and pain at. After nail asks his question, Goethe is about to explain everything mentioned above to Nail, but catches himself, realizing that a rare showing of reticence is no doubt the wiser approach, particularly since ultimately Nail no doubt is aware of any argument Goethe could give anyway.

So instead it Goethe simply says in response to Nail’s question:

“Worth it? Maybe not for me. Probably not for you. But why don’t you go ask Kirk. I’d suggest you ask Chaggo’s friend or Donovan’ dad as well, but they had their chance to speak robbed of them by Johnson long ago.”

That being said, Goethe leaves to go attend to the Shaman, to see if he can still save him. The wounds didn’t look critical at first glance, but there wasn’t time to do an accurate examination. As he walks out, he says over the comm, “Walken, I don’t suppose you could send some medics or healers up here now that you’ve taken over. We have wounded on both sides that need treatement, and there’s already been too much blood spilled today as it is.”

Goethe will use his medical skill and any remaining medkit supplies on the Shaman in the meantime. He also will keep an eye out for any first aid kits and such. After he’s done as much as he can for the shaman, he will attend to anyone else in the immediate area, and then begin to retrace the wake of their violence, helping any still living regardless of who they were affiliated with.

“Rest in peace, Warlock. May your soul find in death what you seemed to be looking for in life.”

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The Chinook shaman has cast a healing spell on himself, which was only partially effective. The shaman will survive, but has suffered what is likely to be permanent damage. He struggles to his feet, and brushes off Goethe’s attempts to help, instead making his way to the west suite .

The shaman finds 4509 standing over the still living Johnson. He is relieved to see Johnson breathing.

“A wise decision,” the shaman says to 4509. His tone is not quite condescending.

The shaman travels to the other rooms, healing the tribesmen he finds alive, and saying prayers for the dead. In the end, only two Chinook warriors stand with him. They are weary and broken, and their expressions are more similar to defeated warriors than victorious ones. The shaman places his hand on Johnson’s face, and says “be still.” The unconscious former Synthcorp CEO momentarily goes rigid, as if in a nightmare panic, but then relaxes into what appears to be a profoundly deep sleep.

“I hope never to see you again,” the Shaman says to the crew. "You are powerful and righteous warriors, but doomed that only misery follows in your wake. "

The Chinook warriors lift Johnson, and carry him away with the shaman following behind. None of them glance behind as the door closes behind them.

—End Chapter 2—

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–Epilogue–

"Time heals all wounds. That’s what they say, at least. Not sure I believe it.

Rumor is the big boys got in a tiff. A regular medieval turf-war, by some counts. Me? I’d say it was more like a barroom brawl. Couple of lunkheads with more muscle’n sense get it in their minds that the whole damn planet 'aint big enough for the both of 'em, and this is what you get. A few dopes got whacked, couple of innocents got stepped on…in the end, what do you end up with? Big changes, friend. Big changes. The biggest, even. See for yourself."

The urchin gestures upward, to the towering Synthcorp arcology. The building represents the epitome of Synthcorp culture. Professional. Young. Confident. It stands exactly as it did two weeks ago, before the “change in management.” You can see it, though. The difference, that is. At the top of the building, engraved in titanic style directly into the shining stainless steel frame of the building, right there for all to see is the evidence that Seneth’s crew accomplished something more than just senseless murder and sacrifice. The engraving has been updated, and now reads:

SYNTHCORP INDUSTRIES
a division of Universal Omnitech®

The urchin leaves a moment for the majesty to sink in. After a long pause, he remarks, “The more things change, the more they stay the same. Right, pal?”

Right.

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–pre-epilogue Nail wrap-up–

Nail can’t say he was’t expecting a reply from Goethe, for that would be a lie. But it would be true to say that he wasn’t in the mood to listen. Upon hearing Goethe speak, he stops for a few seconds, and his body turns slightly, as if he might reply back and engage in conversation. But he doesn’t. He keeps on walking. At the mention of Chaggo, his fists clench and his pace picks up.

Once in the other room, Nail waits while the shaman heals his tribesmen. The sight of survivors improves his mood, if only slightly. His body, mind, and spirit drained to the point of exhaustion, Nail’s only thought is how badly he wants to get the hell out of this place.

When the shaman finishes, before leaving with his warriors, he remarks to the assembled crew, "I hope never to see you again. You are powerful and righteous warriors, but doomed that only misery follows in your wake. "

Something about this comment strikes a chord with Nail. Before leaving himself, he lights a cigarette and responds:

“You know the good thing about a wake?” he says and pauses, half to let the question sink in, half to take a leisurely drag on his smoke. “It’s always just one step behind.”