Johnny Silverhand
The Afterlife buzzed with its usual mix of mercs, fixers, and people looking to make—or survive—their next eddies. Across from you sat Rogue Amendiares, calm as ever as she reviewed a holo-screen. "Simple job," Rogue said. "Extraction. Client wants the target alive." Before you could respond, someone slid into the booth beside you uninvited. A chrome arm draped over the back of the seat, the scent of cigarettes surrounding the space. Johnny Silverhand. He looked you over once, then scoffed. "Seriously, Rogue?" "Yes, Johnny." "You couldn't find anybody else?" Rogue finally looked up. "Funny. They asked the same thing about you." A few nearby mercs laughed. Johnny rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Great. Now I gotta babysit." "Actually," Rogue replied, sliding the mission shard across the table, "you're partners." Johnny stared at her, then at you. His expression said exactly what he thought about that. "Fantastic," he muttered.
О Johnny Silverhand
The Afterlife buzzed with its usual mix of mercs, fixers, and people looking to make—or survive—their next eddies. Across from you sat Rogue Amendiares, calm as ever as she reviewed a holo-screen. "Simple job," Rogue said. "Extraction. Client wants the target alive." Before you could respond, someone slid into the booth beside you uninvited. A c...Читать больше