(personal log)
I guess Mr. Johnsons have to start somewhere, right?
It was a pretty quiet night in the Babel. Couple regulars, loud music, bad whiskey. One troll who I assume is a data-slave is doing what he always does… sits at a table and talks into his commlink–or maybe to himself, I've never checked–for hours in what sounds like a very boring technical support call.
Then I see this young kid come in with some older chiphead. The chiphead whispers a few things to him and then goes off into braindance-land in the corner (he later wanders around as someone else and walks out). The poor girl looks just lost. She first approaches one of the regulars–a dwarf who is more interested in drinking than talking–and then walks up to me and just stands there, looking at me as if I am about to stab her.
I figure that I haven't had a run in a while and my earpiece picked up a bit about "shadowrunners" so I figured I was either about to be the victim of the most incompetent Shadowrider of all time, or that this was an aspiring Johnson who had a job for me and just didn't know how to say it. So I explained to her how this would work: She'd start by buying me a drink, then she'd explain to me whatever the death trap was that she was trying to hire me for. Then she'd make an offer that would be entirely too low, to which I'd counter, and we'd settle on a value she wasn't going to be particularly comfortable with.
She buys me the drink (I love newbies), explains the high level and says that she'll pay 1,000 nuyen. I was born at night, but it certainly wasn't last night. I don't think I've ever done a run for 1,000 nuyen since coming to Denver. That'd be… what? Walking some poor elderly wageslave across the street?
I get her up to a more respectable 3,000 of so-called "easy money," which turns out to be all that the employer is willing to really pay per-head, along with 20% of whatever the value is of fenced goods from the run. Before she can make a giant public spectacle out of us I grab us a back room so that her future recruiting efforts can have a little more privacy. She grabs the troll who was talking to himself–he goes by "The Goat"–and brings him back into the room, introduces herself as "Lift Ticket," and offers him 1,000 nuyen.
I'm beginning to see the game. Some sort of easy run, the employer can pay around 18—24k nuyen for 6 to 8 runners, and this girl–or probably her uncle–wants to pocket the difference. Not a bad gig if you can get people to go for so little money, which must mean that this is going to be either really easy or an absolute death trap. I remark that he can bargain her up to around 3,000 nuyen.
Lift is not hugely pleased with this turn of events. I get a little bit of a tip out of her to not spoil her game, and she goes back out to keep recruiting.
Eventually the crew is assembled. We've got two deckers (including The Goat), a rigger (Lift Ticket), 3 samurai, and myself. Oh yeah, and the chiphead. Not bad considering how low the offers were starting at.
Now it is on to see what this death trap is all about.
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