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Wheelman/Pistolero/Minor Rigger
"You don't need a runner. You need a rider."
PlayerStirling; [1]
MetatypeOrky as all hell
Street Cred4
Public Awareness0
AccomplishmentsBallsiest Go-Ganger in the sprawl. Caused the biggest traffic accident in a decade.
Metatype - C
Attributes - B
Magic/Resonance - E
Skills - B
Resources - C

Character Information


Ork bike wiz- Automotives mechanic (Motorcycles), racer and vehicle combatant.

Decent ground muscle in a pinch- Squid's cyberarm makes him a right terror with guns and 'nades.


-Build the fastest, hottest hyperbike in the entire fraggin' world.

-Have fun, blow shit up. Maybe get back at my old gang for cutting my arm off? Dunno.


Squid broke with his old go-gang when he stole a bleedin' edge prototype hyperbike and made a break for Seattle. That didn't go well, and the resulting traffic pile-up ended with three dead and two dozen wounded. His old buddies also cut his arm off in recompense. Ouch.

Could be worse, though; At least they didn't kill him. Instead, they just took him back on as a shop jockey. Being stuck in a garage is hell when you live for speed and violence. But on the plus side, you learn a fair bit about engineering when you spend two years doing less-than-legal shop work, hooking illegal afterburners on Harleys, and installing VERY illegal weapon mounts for the street sammy on the go.

Skip forward a few years, and the gang's old boss gets geeked, some new idiot takes over, and Squid's free once again. With his newfound freedom, our dude's pulled one last "fuck you" on his old buddies, and nabbed the gang's prize bike- A yerzed out Nodachi like you've never seen. His rep as a traitor precedes him, and with money running low, Squid's gonna have to put his talents to use in the shadows to set up a network of fixers, riggers and speed freaks 'fore he can turn his bike into the bike, maybe get an entire line of bikes. Wait, no, screw that- Squid's gonna set up an entire fuckin' garage full of bikes!

It's. Fuckin'. On.

Narrative Significant Qualities

Hottest bikewiz on the planet, and you'd better believe it.


Activated during chases/vehicle combat, +20% speed or +1 handling, and +2d to Pilot(Groundcraft) when attempting stunts and difficult maneuvres. Lasts for 1d6 minutes with the option to take another 1d6 minutes at 1 stress damage per minute.

Vehicle Empathy

+1 to Pilot (Groundcraft) and +1 to vehicle Handling.


+2d to Pilot(Groundcraft) during chases/vehicle combat.

Speed Demon

+1d to Pilot(Groundcraft) when speed is 4 or higher.


Wanted: 25.000 Nuyen (Ares MacroTech)

Ares Johnson crossed me on a fuckin' 10K milk run by withholding payment, even though we fulfilled every goal to the fuckin' letter. Went back to that fuck's house and stole 4 prototype cars mounting up to a few million in value. No pissing ratfucking drekhead crosses me and gets away with it, and Ares is gonna get what's coming to them.

Bad Rep

Squid turned traitor on his old brotherhood and has spent the past few years working for them in indentured servitude. While the gang has since dissolved, the notoriety has stuck. He's tryin' to fix his rep so he can set himself up as the go-to man for discreet bike work. +3 default notoriety.

Dinstinctive Style

Decked out with full-body Hotrod-style tats, has white chromed eyes and a unique RUST NEVER SLEEPS LED-tattoo on his cyberarm; Yeah, this guy isn't subtle. +2d for tests to identify, trace or locate Squid. DT-1, down to at least 1 for memory tests involving Squid.

Driven (World's Novahottest Hyperbike)

See 'goals'- Squid's setting himself up to ride world's fastest bullet bike and *WILL* prioritize getting his hands on bike parts, contacts and money so he can work toward this. If the opportunity would ever show itself for him to steal another bleeding-edge prototype hyperbike or get rare/unique parts, Squid rolls Willpower + Logic (4) to resist dropping everything to go after the lead. Until this lead is resolved, +1 to Willpower.

Poor Self Control (Thrill Seeker)

When you've been a go-go-go long enough, you learn to settle things with speed and force. It's hard keeping yourself in check when that's all you've ever known. GMs may prompt Composure (2) tests. If failed, Squid has to go loud, shoot straight and go fast, with a +1 to Initiative Score for comp.


I mean, I'm not a sociopath or anythin'. But yeah, you run with a go-gang all your life, you get used to killin'. Limit for all social skills except Intimidation decreased by 1.

Run History

Intern Return invalidated due to character resubmission.

NameGMMetaplotDate of Run
RVDocMcGuffinAdversaries20 April 2081
Route 66: Side Story, Sir Where is My AutomobileDoc McGuffinsLike mad max but more guns11 April 2081
This Harbor is YoursPillare
9 April 2081
FaithlessDarklordiablo4 April 2081
The ReturnRyncewynde28 March 2081
Intern ReturnTeksura24 March 2081
UnshieldedTeksura22 March 2081



Contact Connection Loyalty Archetype Profession Aspects Chips
Warboss 6 1 Fixer Fixer WAAAGH!, Moar Dakka!, Half Machine, All Trog, Gang Boss, Lok'tar Ogar, Crime Lord, Smuggler Even
Paul Emmers 4 3 Gear Racing Motorcycle Proprietor Vehicles, Drones, Modded vehicles, Bikes, Speed Demon Even
Pitty 'Grease Lightning' McShane 5 4 Gear Mechanic Cars, Mechanic, Drones, Hard to reach, Motorcycles, GoGanger, Aerial vehicles Even
Jerry 3 1 Service Road Tripper Driver, Awakened Drugs, Sasquatch, Traveller Even



Solace: +3 Rep


SpinGlobal Industries: -10 Rep

88's Triad: -2 Rep

In-Character Information

Ey, maybe you remember that big traffic pile-up off the I25 a few years back? That was me.

Mother Road Horde's all but dead now. Sure, some of my old buds might still be around; Cheesebrain, maybe Eyes. I've even heard some rumors that Keeng's still stompin' up and down Phoenix. But none of them still carry the brand - None of them, 'cept for me.

Used to ride with this go-gang calling itself the Mother Road Horde- Slinging chems, running guns, all that shit. We were some real speed freaks, always jacking up our horses, raiding chop shops for parts and skins, building ourselves the fastest bikes any road's ever seen. But it was always more about the brotherhood for them, right? About having buds to watch your back, just a bunch of losers ripping asphalt and living it big. Fuck no. Me? I lived for the bikes. Been taking them apart and putting them together since before I hit puberty. I was the local bikewiz, see? Having me around, that meant our hogs ran smooth and fast, and had the biggest guns mounted on 'em. More importantly, I was the gang's champion, always drove front of the horde with our big trog boss, Keeng. When we went up against other gangs, I always got first go, pounding down enemy rats with heavy fuckin' firepower, doin' drive-by's, taking names. Gang called me Hotshot back then, s'cause I was a right fucking terror in bike-to-bike combat. Still am, chum.

So here's the thing- Boss Keeng found a big drekkin' score. New experimental hyperbike or whatever: A bleedin' edge Gaz-Niki, basically a jet engine on wheels, suspension like a box full of bug spirits, torque like an angry hellhound. *Legendary* bike, I tell ya. Mac Hellhound was movin' that thing on a secure convoy out of Phoenix, covered by CorpSec bike patrols. Keeng called in favours with the 66'ers and doubled our numbers. We brought magic and tech, pulled out all the stops, even had an autocannon. It was the heist of the century; Lost a lot of men there, slaughtered our way through a dozen Knight-Errant gettin' that bike. But we got it.

So we're celebratin', getting wasted, chemmed up, Keeng's pattin' me on the back for blowing a dozen beaters off the road. Everyone's happy. But here I am, thinkin'- "Keeng's a fucking idiot, am I really gonna let him sit his fat ass on a bike that perfect? I've been in this outift as long as him, and I've carried twice his weight." And y'know, I wasn't gonna be happy like that. *I* was the fastest speed freak in the outfit, and *I* was entitled to the bike. So I took it. Hotwired that baby and made a break for Seattle.

I'll tell you what, it was a *hot* drekkin' ride. Picture this: Me, tearing through trucks and jackrabbits and whatever-the-fuck. Behind me, two dozen or so angry geeks on hogs, chasing my tail like the hounds of Hell. I didn't have any mounted weapons, so I had to take potshots with my Lemat. Sling 'nades to keep them at a distance, all that trid stuff. Well, it wasn't the best plan I coulda had, 'cause I ended up high-siding twenty minutes in, caused a *massive* traffic-pileup, three dead SINners, two dozen wounded, dunno how many dead gangers. Lotsa twisted metal, lotsa guts everywhere (Most of them were 66'ers, not MRH, so s'fine). And I wrecked the bike. It sure was a ride.

Keeng coulda killed me, but didn't. Just sawed my arm off an' made me work my debt off in a chop shop. Guess he was more sentimental than I figured, or maybe he thought being locked in a small room for the rest of my life would be worse than killing me. Asshole changed my street name to Squid- means "Fuckup". I was pissed about it at the time, but I kinda like that name now. I spent the next two years fixin' and modding bikes for the horde, indentured servitude and all that jazz. Finally managed to make a break a few months back. Keeng's fat ass got buried by 66'ers an' I got out in the confusion. Nabbed a Nodachi on my way out- MRH's prize bike, heh. Been modding this arm up for the past two years, shoots as straight as a Tír Ghost. For now, I'm playing it by ear, doing runs for money. There's plenty of runners, go-gangers and mercs looking for a guy with a wrench who can set them up with the good stuff, mod their wheels to hell and back, rain bullets down on gang scum. More than that, I want the fastest bike in the fraggin' world. I wanna *run* this fuckin' sprawl.

'Course, that's not gonna happen without money. I have my ace-in-the-hole, this rad-ass Nodachi that I nabbed as a goodbye gift, carry on the Mother Road Horse's legacy. But yeah, I need money and I need connections. And I need to shake this bad rep. So for now, I'm stickin' to the shadows. I tried doing some white mech work on a fake SIN, but that didn't drag in enough cash. Until I have the Nuyen to build myself a real hot set of wheels, f'you need a road warrior- I'm your guy.

It's fuckin' on.

Symbols and Signatures

-The Mother Road Horde (Go-Gang)'s banner: The letters M R H below a stylized depiction of a mongol warrior with a skeletal face, a manchu moustache, and a sadistic smile. A chain motif surrounds the symbol. (This is pretty much literally the Fallout Great Khans' banner).

-Personal: A generic Squid emoji, generally used on-line: 🐙

Matrix Search Table

Threshold Result
1 hit A cephalopod in the superorder Decapodiformes with an elongated body, large eyes, eight arms and two tentacles.
2 hits (In go-ganger slang) A derogatory term for either newbie motorcylists, or motorcyclists who frequently crash.
3 hits A small presence in the Seattle shadow community known for his affinity for bike combat and knowledge of motorcycle repair and upkeep.
4+ hits A notable traffic accident occured halfway through 1979. No arrests were made, but media widely reported the involvement of several go-gangs. The resulting pileup ended with three SINners dead and 24 wounded. Word on the datahaven is a go-ganger named Hotshot was responsible- goes by Squid, now.

Shadow Community Table

Threshold Result
1 hit A fresh face on the Seattle scene. Hot-blooded wheelman with an interest in motorcycles.
2 hits Runs side-gigs fixing up cars and bikes for people both on and off-grid. Has a knack for mechanics, and is a talented motorcycle combatant
3 hits Ex go-ganger, shred asphalt for a long time with one of the Mother Road's biker hordes. His bad rep can be traced back to him turning traitor on his old gang banger buds.
4+ hits His old gang disgraced him when he tried to make off with a stolen prototype motorcycle. The resulting chase lasted two hours or so and ended in a massive traffic pileup off the I4.


He Flores (Level 4)

Cover SIN for a middle-aged, Chinese/Latino ork working as a freelance mechanic. SIN's linked to a low lifestyle apartment and carries permits for firearms and the runner basics. I've never even been to China.

Fake Licenses (Firearms, Concealed Carry, Driver's License, Restricted 'Ware) (4)



Out in civilian garb: Shop shirts, overalls- Garage clothing with that rockabilly flair to it and usually a few grease stains to boot. Preference for short-sleeve or sleeveless shirts, as the cyberarm makes long sleeves inconvenient. Often wears adhesive sunglasses to cover the cybereyes in settins where a bright white shine might be distracting.

When dressed for running: Squid usually goes out in body-covering, high-end motorcycling gear, low profile and anonymous, to protect his identity as much as possible.

Media Mentions