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| · DV8 [21-01-2008 / 11:27:00] |
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 Have you ever wandered down a corridor or alley, bodies at your feet, the barrel of your smartlinked Ingram still red hot, forty-three rounds of Ex-Explosive caps poorer, and you haven't got a clue how the hell you managed to pull this one off? You knew that the rest of your life would be short and painful, but somehow it wasn't.
Ignorant motherfuckers think that all it takes is a jacked up system and a smart-link. And while that might go a long way when you're fighting tennant relocation programs out in Touristville, or giving the car-jackers something to think about on the I-5 up to Everett, it's not going to be enough when you're prowling around a corporate Renraku gravesites, along the Yak waterfront, Ares industrial complex, on deep in the underhive of your local Universal Brotherhood headquatres. Hell, even the Star will book you for Gross Incompetence and Crimes Against Professionalism if you sell yourself as a professional kick-artist with only a jacked system to back you up.
So read on and don't forget, that way you know where to place the honor of survival and professionalism. Puglists, mercs, kick-artists and sammies unite, and shed your martial light on these files.
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