| Attributes | Body: | 4(7) | Quickness: | 5(6) | Strength: | 4(5) | Charisma: | 4 | Intelligence: | 5(7) | Willpower: | 6 | Essence: | 2.86 | Essence Index: | 5.86 | Body Index: | 3.8 | reaction: | 5(7) | Initiative | 5+1D6(7+3D6) | Dice Pools | Combat: | 9 | Task: | 1 | Karma: | 1 |
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| Cyberware | Type | Rating | Grade | Essence | Commlink | 4 | standard | .15 | Radio | -- | alpha | .6 | Cybereyes | -- | standard | .2 | Flare Compensation | -- | standard | -- | Low-light | -- | standard | -- | Thermographic | -- | standard | -- | Protective Covers | -- | standard | -- | Datajack | -- | standard | .2 | Transducer | -- | standard | .1 | Imagelink | -- | standard | .2 | Smartlink | 2 | alpha | .4 | Headware Memory 100 Mp | FIFF | alpha | .26 | Dermal Sheath | 2 | alpha | 1.12 | Bioware | Type | Rating | Grade | Bio Index | Cerebral Booster | 2 | Cultured | .8 | Enhanced Articulation | -- | standard | .6 | Muscle Augmentation | 1 | standard | .4 | Muscle Toner | 1 | standard | .4 | Synaptic Accelerators | -- | Cultured | 1 |
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| Skills | Active | Assault Rifles: | 5 | Biotech: | 3 | Car: | 4 | Etiquette (street): | 3(4) | Leadership: | 5 | Negotiation: | 3 | Pistols: | 5 | Small Unit Tactics: | 4 | Stealth: | 5 | Submachineguns: | 5 | Unarmed Combat: | 4 | Knowledge | Street | Gang Identification: | 4 | Mafia Controlled Establishments | 4 | Academic | Building Security: | 5 | Hermetic Defenses | 5 | Matrix Security: | 4 | Small Unit Tactics: | 5 | Sixth World | Corporate Security: | 5 | Background | Security Protocol: | 4 | Interests | Alcohol | 4 | Languages | English: | 6 | English R/W: | 3 |
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| Edges | College Education (+2) | Quick Healer (+2) | Ambidexterity (+2) | Flaws | Nightmares (-2) | Vindictive (-2) | Hunted (-2) |
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| Contacts | Fury (level 1): | female human fixer | Cavanaugh (level 2): | female human, Corp security rigger | Sanchez (level 1): | male human, gang boss | Scorpion (level 1): | male elf, retired shadowrunner, runs a bookstore in Oakland, Cal Free |
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| Gear |
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History
Her dress glittered like sapphires in the light from the street below. She looked like a doll standing there, framed by the window. Her expression, though, was one of infinite sadness. And it didn't change; not when you reached out for her, pleaded with her, begged and promised. Not even when she stepped backwards into space fifty floors above ground level. The dress fluttered in the wind.
You bought it for her on the day of your tenth anniversary. You never got to see her in it because your dinner date was preempted by a training exercise. She had resisted coming here, acquiescing reluctantly to your argument that it was the next step up. You had been too caught up in training and classes to appreciate her growing depression. But in that one moment, that terrible, final, silent moment, you understood everything she'd been trying to tell you. And you resolved to make them pay.
Only one thought got you through the seemingly endless psych evals and counseling sessions, one thought drove you to fake your own death and flee the corporate structure, and only one thought stops you from putting a bullet in your brain every morning: revenge.
You stare at the ice cubes in your drink, remembering. That's all you can seem to do these days. You don't eat much, and sleep even less. But you can't stop remembering. Movement draws your attention, as a woman slides into the seat across from you. Peering through the haze of smoke from your niq stik, you think it's her for a moment. But only a moment. You wave your hand at the broad.
"I'm not looking for company tonight, so save it and leave me alone."
"But I've been looking for you a long time, Mr. Masters. My name is Fury, and I have a job that might interest you."