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 (Rummy, Tequila, Grog, and Sp(i)ritzer) can be found carved into their favourite barstools, forbidden for anyone else to use. The callsigns, not the stools.— Redhat
The Cabinet ran properously 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 - callsign 'Rummy' - 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 this temporary substitution for matrix support filled in by an admitted novice, the subsequent run remained overwhelmingly succesful, and fortune continued to spiral upwards when Rummy returned to the fray.
The Cabinet's luck would finally run out in spite of this growing prosperity 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 coincidentally being in the area.
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 due, contracts signed yet unfinished. 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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