I can't pin down for certain when exactly our
Barkeep began to implement his idea of a unified shadowrunning team on semi-permanent retainer, but communication records procured from data-caches written by my predecessor would mark the first use of the Cabinet name around 2070, making it a relatively new concept. The original Cabinet consisted of John's most trusted shadowrunners, all considered the cream of their respective crops in Raleigh and willing to cooperate fully with oneanother, a trait that isn't as common as one might think. After a couple of trial runs doing jobs for one of Raleigh's more prominent political forces, the Cabinet was founded in officiality and unique identifying callsigns were given out to the Barkeep's dream made manifest.
Said callsigns can be found carved into their favourite barstools, forbidden for anyone else to use. The callsigns, I mean.— Anonymous poster
The Cabinet ran succesfully for several runs, fully acclimated to eachother's presence and moving fluidly as a team in unison. The first setback met by the Cabinet was in '72, when a misalligned breaching-charge led to the team's decker suffering a serious injury, taking him out of comission for a month and a half. Knowing the risks of running without on-site matrix support, Barkeep made the reluctant decision to call in a temporary replacement in the form of one of the Cabinet members' younger sibling:
Myself. I was hired as a temporary contractor onto the team and given the 'provisional callsign' of Brandy, but that's all you need to know for this article.
Despite his misgivings at having the role of matrix support filled in by an admitted novice, the subsequent two runs remained succesful, in no small part due to the small role that matrix support played in them. When the team's regular Decker fully recovered from his injuries, I was kept on retainer in a secondary support role, focussing on data-gathering and electronic reconnaissance.
The Cabinet's biggest downfall could come quickly in spite of this growing success in early 2073. An entity, whose identity and agenda remains frustratingly difficult to piece together, contracted the Cabinet to procure a package from a secure facility and stow it in the nearby
Universal Omnitech School of Medicine for safekeeping. In retrospect, the run being a set-up was obvious: The package was naught but a sealed container of commercial-grade explosives, set to detonate when carried out of a a nearby RFID's signal-range. I was the only survivor, by sheer fortune of the Cabinet's physician-on-retainer being in the area and making a risky solo extraction.
For two and a half years, the Cabinet was for all intents and purposes dead. The Barkeep's dream-team vanished in a puff of smoke and fire, his investments all for nought. Present circumstances however, would callously limit any time of mourning the Barkeep had: favors were still owed, debts paid, contracts needed to be done. With the greatest of reluctance, the Barkeep began to build anew. Pulling together a new ragtag group from what few contacts he had left at that point, he decided that the next best thing to having his dream-team is to make one from scratch, turning rookies into legends himself.
And the rest is history.
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