STALKER7

This past weekend, a crew of five made the long drive from Western MA. for a two-day gaming event. A sort of mini-convention here on the Sandbar, just for them. Breaking from their usual diet of 5E/traditional fantasy, they sampled the rules-light/rage heavy TTRPG, CY_BORG.

Tabletop wargamer that I am, I tweaked the already streamlined system to accommodate miniatures and 3D terrain in combat-heavy scenarios.

Two Days. Four Sessions.

Saturday and Sunday, morning and afternoon, with lunch breaks somewhere in there, five players ran six characters who brawled, bribed, spliced, and shot their way through a nasty tangle of violent criminal organizations, deadly automated defenses, and ugly corporate secrets.

In media repo-res

We got the paperwork out of the way first thing Saturday morning with a simple introduction to the mechanics, setting, and their characters. Once they were comfortable, the players were dropped into a tutorial mission so they could acclimate to actual game play.

For that, I swiped the Reaper Doc Repo scenario from the core rule book, but started them in the mansion, 10 seconds after they had successfully repossessed the cyber-legs. Their goal was to Get Out; exit the premises with the repossessed limbs, without raising the alarm.

Oh, and they were free to loot whatever else they could carry as they went.

Unfortunately, no phone photos were taken during these particular shenanigans, so you’ll have to ‘theater-of-the-mind’ the:

• stolen oil painting

• the nanite-infested empathic polymer sculpture in a stasis field

• multiple bodyguards

• a pissed-off, borged-out, rival MMA fighter

• a chromed out, customized heavy caliber revolver, and a tanto knife with intricate circuitry etched on both sides of the blade.

• several doses of uncut Euphoria

• the splinter of a rogue AI negotiating for its freedom

• the hilarious and wildly inappropriate use of one character’s sub-dermal shockers. In the mansion’s foyer, no less.

• and a black and gold data stick encrypted with secret Bratva financials.

So nothing really serious.

Astonishingly, no humans were (seriously) injured in the making of this daring escape. Our heroes absconded in their armored van and vanished into the bitter glare of another false dawn, finding relative safety in the teeming hive of their corpo-run mega-city.

Got Shopping to Do? Get Deals! Get Discounts! Get Ambushed!

Safe in their own neighborhood, the crew spent what little remained of a restless night licking their wounds and restocking their meager supplies. Next, they delivered the repo-ed cybertech to the fixer who brokered the job – only to get shafted out of a percentage. “I’ll make it up to ya next time. Cross my heart.”

Shorted – again.

After that, it was a visit the district’s Red Pole. Triads are no joke, so one has to pay their respects along with a monthly protection fee to do business in this world.

On the way out of that meeting, another of the crew’s regular fixers called them about a possible job: a client needs data recovered. Big pay day, easy job. Don’t even need to deliver it in person. Just a bit of travel to the site, fuel and transit permits covered. Even some credits for incidentals, up front. They interested?

Hell, yes. The team signed on the dotted line, took the Gray Market vouchers, and went shopping.

Which is when the bad guys arrived.

Nothing like a gun battle in crowded streets to get your day started. The crew was dispersed across the board, exiting different shops, when a flashy Ford truck and two Mercedes SUVs rolled up and started dumping Bratva byki like clown cars in an oligarch’s nightmare.

With the crew separated, the Russians hoped to pick off the characters individually. Maybe grab one or two for a heart-to-heart conversation with their Boss about a certain data stick that went missing the previous night. Seething with bad intent, they activated first.

At the far side of the board, Joe C’s Gang Goon and Shane’s Discharged Corp Killer scattered as a trio of gunmen exited a black Mercedes G. At the other end of the street, Tom J’s Hacker was on the receiving end of a lot of high-caliber unpleasantness from the byki mini-boss in his tricked out Ford F-550.

Nearby, a White G-class unloaded a second squad of neck-tattooed shooters in ill-fitting suits. They promptly went after Charles’ Nanomancer, Steve’s Cyberpsycho, and Shane’s second character, the Orphaned Gearhead. The street went from inane advertising jingles to Hollywood-level gunfire in seconds. HP boxes got ticked fast.

If this were easy, then anyone could do it, right?

The Noble Bastards (crew’s nom de guerre) rallied and returned fire.

Fortunately, Shane’s Discharged Corp-Sec had just purchased a ‘gently used’ sniper rifle from his regular arms dealer, which he immediately put to good use. The Gang Goon ducked behind the nearest jersey barrier and started trading rounds with Russians. The Gearhead pulled out his trusty Nail Gun and went to work, providing a distraction if not much else.

Meanwhile, Charles’ Nanomancer used LifeTap to assist Tom’s injured Hacker at the expense of the startled mini-boss. (not for the squeamish, that Nano power) Steve’s Psycho (more brawler than slasher) sprinted forward and started grappling with the first gunman he could get his electrified hands on.(IIRC, Bison from Street Fighter was referenced several times. Somersault Skull Diver, anyone?)

Tables and tides…

What started as an ambush morphed into a rout as the NB’s recovered and started dropping borscht boys. Another exchange of fire and only a teal-haired gunman in an obligatory trench coat remained. Spattered with blood, some of it his, he scrambled into the black G-series and drove back to Little Odessa. (gotta deliver the bad news to his Boss)

That ended Saturday’s session.

________

Vung Tao Ho!

Sunday morning. Coffee. More coffee. Crack open the dice, the notepads and character sheets, set up the table, and get back to it.

The Fine Print

What was billed as “Easy Money” – gank some data from a old building in an abandoned city – turned out to be a bit trickier. Is anyone really surprised here?

Resigned but determined to get paid, our anti-heroes hopped in their battered armored van and started driving. The urban sprawl gave way to the gated enclaves that bordered the massive agri-plexes and protein looms, which in turn yielded to vast industrial parks crowded with automated factories shrouded in foul smog.

Eventually, the landscape settled into a barren countryside covered in chemically-murdered dirt, dotted with the shells of towns, refugee camps, and roving bands of scavengers, all watching the NB’s van with hungry eyes.

Roadside Assistance

There was a typical shakedown: a Trade and Transit Authority patrol looking for an ‘updated transit pass’ for that particular stretch of highway. Thankfully, the officers could process the pass right then and there for a mere Cr. 500. Service with a smile. (and one hand on the pistol holster)

Done.

At the recharging station/rest area midway to their destination, the crew found a number of abandoned vehicles, one of which contained the body of a missing investigative journalist who disappeared a year ago researching the history of certain wartime cities, including the one the crew is headed to: the former Nihitsu Corp town, Vung Tao.

“Coincidence? I think NOT!”

Cannibal Scav Negotiations

Wisps of ominous foreshadowing lingering like toxic fumes, the Noble Bastards rolled into Vung Tao where the locals tried to threaten, extort, then finally kill and eat them.

Another brisk firefight with a hefty dose of Nanomancer duel, the last scav standing was persuaded to lead the crew to the old Nihitsu Group office complex. As a reward for excellent service, he was promoted to ‘Head Concierge’ and left propped up at the entrance as a warning, a hearty greeting to anyone who might follow.

Down the stairs. More stairs. Basement. Sub-Basement. Secret Door…

“You have arrived at your destination.”

Nihitsu Corporation Cybernetics Division. R&D Lab No. 57

A quick investigation revealed the Nihitsu Group used to be a leader in robotics and genetics research. Makers of bleeding edge tech, they had lots of military contracts back in the day. In fact, they developed the first neural chip and that made them a “Big Deal” way back when.

But the Corporate Wars of ’49 and ’51 were a tough stretch for Tech Bros, Billionaires, and anyone else caught in the crossfire. Of course, Nihitsu was attacked, bailed out, consolidated, conglomerated, and ultimately consumed by ever-larger mega-corps over the course of the fighting. It exists now only as a foot note for history nerds and strategic analysts.

But its classified research? All those experiments, prototypes, and clinical trials done off-book, far from ethical standards and tedious oversight committees? Terabytes of critical files were lost in the churn of skirmishes and stock crashes. Those, those are still worth something. A lot of something.

That’s was the Noble Bastards’ task. All they had to do was

• Restore the Power
• Reboot the Network
• Access the Files at the Head Admin’s terminal
• Transmit the data to a secure server at the client-provided I.P.

Easy.

Turrets and Droids and Combat Bio-Forms, oh my.

The Noble Bastards advanced into the facility, methodically hacking locked doors, stacking up and clearing rooms, providing covering fire, and sharing Red Juice doses as needed. (you know you’re gaming with vets, when…)

Busted generators, damaged comms, encrypted networks were sorted and squared away one by one, despite well-placed sentry turrets and waves of annoying security droids.

Of course the final objective – the comms terminal to transmit the classified data – was in the same room as a murderous Combat Bio-Form. (anyone not see that one coming?) There were injuries and bodily trauma, but once again, cooperation and a liberal application of firepower carried the day.

The Noble Bastards exfil the city of Vung Tao with a hefty amount of salvage, terabytes of classified data, evidence of corporate malfeasance and conspiracy, not to mention full payment for the job. (from a surprised client who apparently calculated the facility’s security would resolve that part of the equation for him.)

Post-Mission

The crew made it back to town and leaned into their connection with the Triads. They met with their Red Pole and leveraged their Vung Tao valuables and data to their advantage. The crew agreed that siding with a strong ally was the smart move. They came out ahead on this job.

Of course, the Klept takes a dim view of anyone who forgets their place and acts above their station. Can’t have the Great Unwashed thinking they matter, can you? On top of that, no one wants witnesses and evidence of their secret sins to come back and haunt them. Especially the Rich and Powerful.

So did the Noble Bastards really get a step up, out of the rancid anonymity and casual brutality of the Sprawl?

Or did they simply step into the crosshairs of even more sophisticated and resourceful adversaries?

***

Long post, I know. Thanks for sticking to the end. Appreciate you stopping by. There’s more brushwork and Bat Reps in the pipeline, so stay tuned.

In the meantime, Good Hunting.

***

Stalker7: Games for Busy Gamers.

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