[SHARED WORLD] Cyberpunk - If the Money is Right Pt2
I’m opening up this story to be a shared world. Please feel free to post your own stories right here in this thread as long as they remain in the same universe. 

You can interect with the main characters if you wish as long as you dont change their stories (please see part 1 for any background information) or you can even play along with the main story thread.

 Or you might want to do a completely separate story in the same universe and never interact. It’s up to you. Please have fun with my world :-)

This is a continuation of “If the Money is Right”. This session is from Emily’s point of view as her and her partner Jadd delve into a world of cyber gangs, rogue AIs, intrigue and mystery.

The neon glow from St Michaels casts flittering shadows across the wall. Streams of LEDs light up giant crosses as holos of Jesus play out scenes from the 3rd Testament. Actually it could be Testament 3.2.1 the latest update.

Energetically / Reassuring

There is an energetic vibe to the city. From where I sit above St Michaels on the 467th level above the street I can see to the far horizon. A constant stream of speeders and air trains flow by. A cat skittishly runs across a beam from one building to the next. Up here I’m far from the chaos on the street. I feel reassured in the fact that this Cityblock is mostly free of trouble.

Is Jadd here?

(Unlikely | 3[d10]) No

It’s been a week since I last saw Jadd. He was chasing up lead with the Azzure Prophets. I was stoned out of my brain and hardly remember anything. I do remember I told him that I loved him though.

Starting / Jealously

I don’t know why he said nothing back to me? Is there someone else? Maybe there is. I don’t know but I’m getting sick of just sitting around waiting for him.

A neo cat wanders past. It’s glowing red eyes peer at me, then it’s gone. Disappearing into the jungle of electrical terminals and conduits that envelop St Michaels. Off to feed on Line Moths our Breaker Bugs or any of the thousand forms of life inhabiting this place, high in the urban jungle.

I have to think of my next move. Where is Jadd? Why is it taking him so long get back to me? I don’t trust the Azzure Prophets or their friends the Shaolin Militia.

Dominate / Extravagance

“Emily!?”, a voice shouts from below. 
“I’m up here Father Gregory” i reply. Father Gregory is the lead singer of a Christian Metal band called “Dominant Power”. The band’s hangout is St Michaels, which isnt really a real church, and they aren’t actually real priests but they have converted this old warehouse high up in the upper levels of Paradise Alley into a haven for Rocker Gangs and all manner of street life. The place is extravagant, lit by neon, LEDs and Holos. St Michaels is part of an old industrial tower, several kilometers high and a mish mash of boxed factories, warehouses, supports structures and conduits for fluids and power. It has it’s own fission reactors so it’s not hooked into the central power grid.

Arachnid sensor array

I climb up the spider like sensor array that Father Gregory installed on the roof of the church last April and clip a jack plug directly into the main hot-box. The other end i stick into a spare neck jack behind my head and a surge of electricity momentarily freezes my body.

“We’re eating soon” calls out Father Gregory, “can we expect you to join us?”

“I’ll be down soon Father” i tell him and he troddles off. 

I plug an old analog dial box into the array and start twisting some knobs hoping to find a signal. The wind has picked up a bit and the array is starting to sway a bit. I double check my monkey strap as a fall from here would see me plummet several thousand metres tom the street below. I scan the 4500Mhz range and lock onto a coder beam. A wave pattern appears on my hand terminal which I’ve taped to a crossbar right in front of my face. A few more delicate adjustments and I’ve found what I’ve been looking for.

Legal matters

Legal documents. Thousands of pages all in raw text. 2 years ago the law firm McCrasky and Delp defended a Shaolin Militia member in a case involving...

Cloaking device

...a break in, in which the accused used a cloaking device to infiltrate a major corporate network. The Cloaking Device wasn’t actually in the real world, those don’t exist It was a piece of software that completely covered the users presence and their tracks in cyberspace. Sure ive used stealth software, but these cloaks are literally untraceable. And I want to get my hands on one so I can infiltrate the Militia and the Prophets and find what ever the hell has happened to Jadd.

The data dump only takes a few seconds and in a flash I’m off the roof and back in the church eating dinner with the band.


The noise is ear splitting. Father Michael’s voice wails above the distorted guitars and thundering rythym section. His long teased up blonde hair and over excessive make up are the signature image of “Dominant Power’s” brand of heavy Christian glam rock. Despite being quite obese and almost 60 years old he leaps around in his studded black leather preist’s robes, singing about Jesus and our eventual damnation. The rest of the band, Father Peter on lead guitar, Father Brian on drums and Father Doug on bass all somewhat resemble the lead singer in a similar, androgynous way.



“I abandonned all hope long ago” says Ricketts, one of the band’s roadies, “Truly” 
“You lost your religion?” I ask.
“Nah, I mean yeah, and any hope of truly making a difference in this world. Us poor junk-heads live in the slum towers or on the streets and cant do shit to change the system. The Fathers think their Jeezus music will change the world but I dont see it.”

I take another swig of my beer as Father Micheal mounts a speaker and preaches to his congregation in all their headbanging glory. I give Ricketts a kiss on the cheek and head off to find Mezzix who said he’d meet me here. 
“Hey...”, Ricketts says as i turn to go, “...hey maybe we can, like hang out....sometime. Maybe?”
I give him a friendly smile. “Maybe Ricketts. Maybe we will”. My mind turns to Jadd though and I leave Ricketts in his slightly awkward solitude. I need to get this legal data to Mezzix and have his people go over it.

Can i see Mezzix?

(50/50 | 5[d10]) No, but...

I search through the crowd for Mez. I can’t see him anywhere. He’s not a big fan of loud noises though so I bet he’s outside. A series of cobbled together girders and crossbeams hold St Michaels landing platform to the side of the church. There are many air cars, speeders and a few orbital shuttles parked there.  

I look again for Mezzix.

(Likely | 8[d10]) Yes

“Its too fucking loud” he proclaims as I approach him. 
“Whatever, you come alone?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah, what you got?”
“Something you’re going to love”
Mezzix has any number of hideouts throughout the city. This one happened to be at the back of a drug lab off the main boulevarde of the “Shilto” District.


A large androgynous figure looms over me as we enter through a side alley door. They have a round shouldered body with a plump moist face and brooding eyes from behind a full face mask. They wear a “Hartzi Corp” logo t-shirt and a carbon fibre exo skeleton covers their legs and lower torso. Plugs and wires emerge from the back of their breather mask and lead up to a support unit fixed to the ceiling on rails.

‘This is the Quartermaster” Mezzix says. The Quartermaster grunts something in a foreign language I do not understand or even recognise.

Below average archaic weapon

HKB-3 hunter-killer droid

A large droid stands in the corner. He holds an old vibro sword by his side and his red eyes track me as I follow Mez down the hallway.

The passageway is quite long, illuminated by the lights of video screens, randomly scattered about are networked bio pods. There are also several small tech droids. At the end of the hall is an irregular and somewhat random room. Surrounding the walls are terminal stations. In the centre of the room is a jack in booth. There is an archway with a sign hanging down which reads “Section 8”.

Is there any danger here?

(Unlikely | 4[d10]) No

The Quartermaster and the HK droid follow us into the room. There is a naked girl in the central chair jacked in to a mainframe which hangs on a support structure above her head. She is bleeding from her eyes and ears and is obviuosly dead.

“Who’s the stiff?” I ask Mezzix.
“Who’s that?” Mezzix asks the Quartermaster

(Unlikely | 3[d10]) No +Twist: PC / Alters the location

The Quartermaster shrugs his shoulders and grunts something.

“I don’t like this” I say to Mez “Lets get out of here”

(Unlikely | 6[d10]) Yes, but...

“Yeah ok, ok. She’s probably just some junk head booster out for a cheap thrill” Mezzix replies

“What the fuck is this place Mez and why are we here?” I ask him
“I thought you could jack in here. This connection is rated high and comes recommended by my best bit-jockeys. There’s no trace on the line so you can snoop around without raising too much suspicion.”

There’s sounds of commotion coming from down the hallway.

“What the fuck is that now?” I yell at Mezzix
“Probably nothin’. Those junkers are probably loading up another deal in the next room. You need to jack in and get that cloak if you want to find Jadd” Mezzix says.

Neglect / Technology

“This isn’t the time or place” i say. “This rig is old and could use a bit of TLC. Look the heat sinks are all clogged up with...”
There’s a burst of gunfire from down the hall.

“Damn it” Mez says, almost disapointed. “What is it with those guys?”
“Fuck it Mez, we have to leave, something is wrong out there!” I draw my pistol. The HK droid heads off out of the room towards the gunfire which is now intensifying.

How do you proceed?

“That’s it Mez, if you want to stay, then stay. I’m leaving with....” I’m cut off as the wall behind the Quartermaster explodes. Pieces of debris fly across the room and smoke obscures everything. I scream and hit the floor, pistol drawn.


I shouldn’t have come here. Mez is helpful but not entirely trustworthy.

“So Mez, this place is safe huh? Is this a business dispute or are you being busted?” I look over at Mezzix. He’s covered in dust and bleeding from the middle of his forehead.

(10 = 10[d20]) Minor Injury: Largely superficial; painful and distracting, but not life threatening.

He looks at me with a stupid, embarrassed smirk on his face. I can’t deal with him right now.

Violently / Quaint

A large shape appears in the dust and smoke in front of me. I level my blaster and prepare to fire. The shape stumbles towards me and I see the Quartermaster, or what’s left of him limping out of the smoke. The blast has torn him free of his overhead umbillicals and has ripped an arm off. Large chunks of his shoulder and torso have been blown away. He spins around and falls to the floor spraying me with blood and fluid from his breather tanks. The stiff smells horrible and I immediately convulse and vomit.

Mezzix starts firing at something.

(50/50 | 1[d10]) No, and...

His shots miss and several figures appear in the opening. Im still suffering from extreme nausea but i raise my pistol and fire.

(Unlikely | 6[d10]) Yes, but...

(17 = 17[d20]) Severe Injury: Incapacitating and may become Critical if untreated.

I hit one and he goes down screaming. The other has disapeared in the smoke though and i lose him. I cant see Mez either but i can hear him coughing.

“Emily!” He shouts from off to my right somewhere. More gunfire from down the hall and several large explosions.

“There’s one to my left!” I scream as i duck down on the floor and crawl through the disgusting pile of blood, guts, puke and god knows what. Mezzix fires over my head, through the smoke in the direction of the unknown figure.

(Unlikely | 3[d10]) No

There’s no indication that he hit anything.

A burst of gunfire rings out in the room.

(50/50 | 7[d10]) Yes

(12 = 12[d20]) Moderate Injury: Hampers action significantly; will require first aid/medical attention.

Mezzix is hit in the arm and shoulder and collapses against the wall, crying on pain. The gunman however has revealed themself. Although I still cant see anything through the dust and smoke, I set my blaster on full auto and spray the area with a full clip.

(Likely | 6[d10]) Yes, but...

(7 = 7[d20]) Minor Injury: Largely superficial; painful and distracting, but not life threatening.

I can here the gunman dive behind cover. I’m not sure if i’ve hit him or not but I’ve definately suppressed him. Crawling to the other side of the room I find Mezzix slumped against the wall. His face is white and his upper body covered in blood.

“It’s not as bad as it looks” he says. I notice he’s patched himself up with makeshift bandages, torn off of a curtain or something. I grab him and drag him to a door at the rear of the room, emptying another clip back in the direction of the gunman.

Secret lab

With one arm around Mez, we hobble into the heart of the operation, a drug lab at the rear of the building. Several of Mez’s workers still remain there but these are techs and mixers, not fighters. Two of them grab Mez and attend to his wounds. I cover the door.

The gunfire has stopped but I can hear people moving about down the hall.

“What the hell is going on?” I look at Mezzix and his employees.


“Um...”, one of them begins, “Smugglers. I think. We had a deal with them to haul a shipment...”
Another employee interjects angrily, “ -but Mezzix cut them short after the drop! Now they want their money!” He stands up and pulls out a pistol, aiming it as Mezzix.

“Hey man,” Mezzix says groggily, “They were ripping us off”
The employee attending to his wounds steps back with a frightened look on her face. Another burst of gunfire from outside the room. This time much closer. I fire blindly down the hall to keep their heads down. Only 3 rounds left in this clip and one clip after that remaining.

“You fucked us up big time Mezzix!” The angry employee says. I’m not sure if he’s going to fire or not.

(50/50 | 3[d10]) No

I get up, grab Mezzix and drag him to the rear exit. I look the employee in the eye as I pass. “If it’s ok with you friend, I’d like to leave now. If you want to live I suggest you do the same.

We head to the door and race into the back alley way. It’s actually more of a narrow platform that encircles the cityblock. We are only 3 stories high on a building that stretches kilometres into the sky. The woman follows us screaming “Wait, wait!”. She directs us to an aircar. The disgruntled emplyee follows us too.

“You give me that gun if you want to get in this car” I tell him. He looks back at the smoking doorway and hands over his pistol before getting in.

And with that, we fly off.

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