I chewed on it for most of the night, the advice I got from both Finnigan—a friend—and the elf biff—most definitely not a friend, but maybe not an enemy either. On reflection, I can see that the idea makes sense. Shadowrunners have resources that I don’t—not anymore, not now that I’m cut off from the Star. They’ve got freedom of action, and they’ve got no love or loyalty for any established organization—Lone Star, the Cutters, or Telestrian Industries Corporation. They’re used to navigating the nooks and crannies of society, staying out of the light, and keeping one step ahead of all the factions that’d like to see their guts ripped out. Sort of like me at the moment. But—