Interlude: Game Night

"What? Why!" little David shouted as the character he built up bit the dust, or at least he would have if he hadn't just eaten six API rounds from the Saka Security Officer he charged during the assault on Arasaka Tower in 2023 and thus had no head with which to bite anything.

"Real life, and this table top RPG rendition of historical events, are very different from movies and videogames, niño." I told the pissed off ten year old we were watching while Gloria crunched through some early coursework for her final semester in med school, "There's a reason no one ever saw Blackhand and Silverhand again after this night."

"Shut your mouth, vato!" Jackie hissed and slapped the table between us, "Morgan Blackhand didn't die that night! He ascended to a new level of black ops that is so top secret and covert we can't even imagine it, let alone see it."

"Cool theory, bro." I snickered, "Or his run in with Smasher went the exact same way Silverhand's did, with the ganic boy getting wrecked by the big Corpo Borg."

"But my character is all borged up! I had subdermal armor and body plating, and those bullets still smoked me." David complained more about the death of his character.

"Armor won't ever make up for bad positioning and decisions. It might save you from one or the other, but when both happen that's that. And it happens fast." I explained to him.

"But I saw you do it on the news no problem." David sulked, "Why didn't it work here?"

"Don't ever try to do what I do, niño." I put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him in the eyes, "I'm special. No amount of hard work and grit would ever let someone chrome up the way I have without going cyberpsycho. My gear is top of the line and cutting edge, extremely well designed. Even with all that in my favor, I have only ever met one guy who could almost load up like me, and I have hundreds of edgerunners attached to my organization now. Just my spine piece would kill just about anyone you'd ever meet."

"Damn, hermano, try to be less demoralizing about it." Jackie shook his head.

"Hey, at least you lasted longer than me." V offered David a pat on the back.

"I feel like that was a snub directed at me." Ciri faked offense at the comment.

"I can't imagine why that would be when my partner for this operation stood in front of the security forces and tried to teleport behind them for a melee attack. Leaving me pinned down after she got blown away in one turn." V huffed causing David to chuckle at the memory.

"It would have been spectacular had it worked." Ciri defended and I shrugged as she glared at me for making the roll to do so statistically improbable.

"Well… then it is good that it happened in this hypothetical training session rather than in a real fight. Lessons were learned. Important lessons… about positioning." Ciri scrambled when I didn't cave.

"Yeah. Don't stand in front of people shooting you while yelling that you want to teleport behind them." David snickered and I gave him a fist bump.

"And never get overconfident when running at men with guns. You never really know what kind of heat they are packing with all the different ammo types and weapon modifications." I expanded the lecture, "And what lesson did Johnny Silverhand and Morgan Blackhand learn that night?"

David crossed his arms over his chest and pouted, "Don't fuck with Adam Smasher."

"You can take that one to the bank, choom." I nodded, proud that I'd taught the little gonk something that might come in handy later in life.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm gonna do more small interludes for other topics such as 'Send in the Juan's' from now on. Ones that don't necessarily fit into the narrative at any specific time outside of context clues. Call them pallet cleansers, filler, or just days I'm too tired to write a full chapter.

Feel free to suggest scenes you want to see happen.

You can support me and my family at

ko - fi . com / jmanm