Cyberpunk Edgerunners Mission Kit Solo Log Part 2 (Plus Food & Drink Generator)

 (Check out Part 1 here)

Diners and Dives

 

Between the light, evening traffic and Wrench’s skill at the wheel, the edgerunner crew was able to cover the distance from the Southern Badlands to Watson quickly.

The coordinates on the tracking device led them to a Tom’s Diner, a 24-hour franchise and Night City institution, tucked between Bradbury and Urmland St. under the shadow of Megabuilding 10.  The large, neon burger sign wreathed with a Lady Liberty crown and the Tom’s logo looked like some grotesque temple to a mythical America gone by.  Such “authentic” experiences could be packaged and sold, according to megacorp focus groups, mostly because no one remembers what old ‘Merica was like before the collapse of the 1990’s.  It might as well have existed somewhere on the borders of Camelot and Narnia, for all your average gonk on the street knew, or cared.

Wrench managed to find street parking and the group decided to split up to investigate the area.  Maven and Wrench walked the outside of the diner near Urmland Street, while Hardpoint and Thorn went inside.  

There was barely anyone at the place at this hour, and no one sporting a yellow jacket.  Thorn chatted up the man working at the counter, who unfortunately wasn’t old Tom or one of his rumored, biosculpt doubles.  Shame; the old-timey, greasy-spoon diner with the grizzled, old cook was the whole selling point of the place (it certainly wasn’t the food.)  

Hardpoint scanned the few patrons seated in the diner booths when she spotted a familiar face from her past, one that made the temperature in her blood rise.  The woman answered by the handle of “Spike” on the Street.

 
Hardpoint and Spike went back a long time, to the Northside Industrial District (NID) combat zone.  The two played as children in the trashed out, abandoned motel they both lived in, happily skipping over BDing (or ODing) gonks, avoiding stranger-danger (which was everywhere,) and learning the facts of life from aging, but wiser joytoys, now semi-retired.

Spike was a couple of years older than Hardpoint, so their social circles diverged by their teenage years.  They reconnected later, after Hardpoint's “family,” a band of scavs that had taken her in, was wiped out by rival group.  One of them had been special to the the solo, her first mainline, killed in the crossfire.  Back then, Hardpoint had not been able to save her, and would have died if she hadn't run for her life.  She returned to the scene later, only to find there was nothing left for her to remember her first mainline by. The rival scavs had taken anything and everything that could be salvaged.  It was as if her “family” had never existed.

Spike, who hung out (and stuffed it with) low-level, Malestrom gangoons, took Hardpoint under her wing.  The former scav learned how to fight from the chromed boostergangers and also, how to use those skills to make eddies for the guns and cyberware that mean the difference between success and a nameless death in the NID.  Hardpoint was a good student; she was very angry at the world then, and with her new, chromed chooms, she eventually found an opportunity to make those scavs pay.  The events are still the subject of NID legend. 

Not long after that, Spike and Hardpoint became closer, and then some, after Spike ended things with her Maelstrom input in what may have been a literal, blow-up fight (witnesses claim there was a grenade involved.)

Unfortunately, Spike also eventually taught Hardpoint a difficult lesson: you can’t trust everyone, even those close to you.  Spike wasn’t content moving up the Maelstrom ladder; she wanted out of Watson. She had made a deal with the Valentinos, who were at war with Malestrom at the time, to haze her Maelstrom chooms (and Hardpoint) to a well-timed ambush.  The gangoon hit-team iced the Malestrom crew save for Hardpoint, whose induction into the Valentinos along with Spike was part of the deal.  However, all Spike earned was Hardpoint’s scorn.  You can’t survive alone in the NID, so you stand by your people, even if they are a boostergang.  While Spike was able to convince the Valentinos to let Hardpoint go, the two went their separate ways, and had not spoken to each other since; until tonight.

Spike munched casually on a scopburger as if she didn’t notice Hardpoint’s approach, but her optics didn’t leave Hardpoint for a second.  She deliberately took her time with the meal to anger the solo.  She knew that she was the only one who could get to her like that.

“I see you’re still sporting Valentino colors.” Hardpoint recovered her composure and became icy.  The solo had learned to channel her anger over the years into a cold, sharp weapon.  She noticed that Spike's chrome was red and gold now; more stylish than her old Northside look.  She even traded the large, red optics for gold Kiroshis.

“Mhmm.”  Spike popped the last piece of scop burger into her mouth.  Her gilded jaw-chrome glinted in the diner’s flickering, artificial light as she chewed, swallowed, and spoke:  “You change your mind about joining up?  Don’t know if it will be easy for you this time.”  Spike ran her tongue along her teeth with her mouth closed, then smiled at Hardpoint with clean teeth in a predatory manner.  The solo couldn’t tell if Spike’s chrome refurb included anything dangerous, but that said, she didn’t think Spike was her match in combat, if it ever came to that.

“No thanks.  I’m on a job,” the solo said. “The way I see it, you owe me, so talk: I’m looking for someone with a yellow jacket; green design.  Seen them?” 

“Aww…baby girl’s all grown up with a new jjjooob!”  Spike’s mocking tone was auto-tuned by vocal mods.  The two had spent more than a few, drunken nights belting out karaoke tunes in Kabuki back in the “good ‘ol days.”  Spike was the real deal.  She could go far as a rockergirl, if she didn’t waste her time stuffing it with gangoons, that is.

Spike’s childish facial expression turned ugly, with a slight nervous tic; could be a side-effect of back-alley ripperdoc work.  “Listen, I don’t owe you scop!  If it wasn’t for me, you’d be a smear of blood and chrome along with those other Maelstrom gonks.  At least I got us out of the Zone.  Shit!  You should be thanking me on your knees and worshiping the Midnight Lady!”  Spike spread her legs crudely and put her foot up on the table to make her point.  It was an old, private joke between them.  Hardpoint’s expression indicated she had no intention of finding out whether Spike had actually gone through with getting that infamous implant; now a whole line of sexy-ware.

Spike put her leg back down and sighed.  “Fine, I’ll tell you what I know, for old time’s sake.  You’re not as fun as you used to be, you know.” 

Spike mentioned that she had seen someone by that description, with red and blue hair.  The gonk ran off in a stolen car before its owners, who were definitely not from Watson, realized what was happening.  Then, some black suits appeared out of nowhere.  They iced the car’s owners after a short exchange:  fast, clean, and professional.  It left a pretty sick sight in the gutter, but Spike was so hungry that she just walked over the bodies to get some eats; just another night in the city.  What she didn’t tell Hardpoint was that she was there on behalf of the Valentinos; on lookout should the gonk in the yellow jacket, or anyone looking for him, happened to return.  

As Hardpoint turned to leave, Spike yelled after her: “You got my detes!  Call me sometime, bitch!”  She lifted her leg up on the table again.  Hardpoint scowled and left to the sound of auto-tuned laughter.  Thorn was waiting outside, smoking.  She told him what she had learned.

“I got a similar story from the not-Tom," the rockerboy said.  “Some outsiders came in for coffee then got into a shootout outside.  NCPD came in to investigate later, but scavs had already gotten to the bodies to sell off their chrome.  You all right?”  He could see that Hardpoint was perturbed.

“It’s nothing,” she replied.  “There’s Wrench and Maven.”   The bulky nomad and small techie approaching together down the alley from the multi-colored lights of Urmland Street made for a funny sight, like something out of a fantasy VR: the ogre and the pixie princess.  This improved Hardpoint’s mood somewhat, but it also brought memories of that one time she got to experience a VR game until Fyodor, the head of her former, scav “family,” knocked it out of her head with an admonishment to “not gonk around with merchandise.”

Wrench asked: “What did you all find out?  I caught some scav kids stripping a bike down the street, but they ran off before I could catch the little gonks.  What was left looked like it had boostergang colors; red and gold, with one of those Mexican skulls.”  That caught Hardpoint’s attention.  Spike wasn’t telling the whole story; figures.

Hardpoint and Thorn told the other two what they had learned.  Maven piped up:  “I found a beat-up surveillance camera, but I can’t get the footage straight from the outer hardware; no idea where it might be stored.”  She frowned.  This was the second time she felt like she had failed the crew on this gig.

Wrench reassured her with a large cyberhand on her small shoulder.  The gesture was patronizing, but sincere.  “Don’t worry, little sister, we got a good lead.  It sounds to me like those unfortunate gonks were nomads, but trying hard not to look the part.  I’d bet my van on it!  Still, where do the Valentinos fit into it?  Turf war? Deal gone bad?  And who’s the guy that stole the yellow jacket running with?  Nomads or Valentinos?  Or nobody, like just a bad coincidence.  Shit…my side hurts.” 

Hardpoint looked in the direction of the diner.  She couldn’t tell through the grease-fogged windows whether Spike was still there watching them.  She looked back at Wrench.  “El Coyote Cojo,” she said.  Wrench looked at her quizzically, rubbed the back of his head with one hand, and his aching ribs with the other.  “You need detes on the Valentinos?  That’s the place to go.  It’s a bar; gang hangout in Heywood, but they respect the owner enough to not cause trouble."

“Well, I need a drink anyway, so let’s go!”  Wrench stomped towards his van as the crew followed behind.

“One thing wasn’t a coincidence,”  Thorn said as they walked back to their ride.  “Those suits were probably corpo agents; maybe Militech or Arasaka.  This gig just got more complicated.”

“Heh!  Then we’ll just have to wring that old cowboy for more eddies!”  Wrench revved up the van and the edgerunners were off to Heywood.

***

The edgerunners arrived at El Coyote Cojo some time past midnight.  The dive was pretty busy despite the late hour, with locals drinking, talking, or shooting pool; no corpo zoner tourists among them, though.  This was the kind of place you typically didn't show your face at unless they knew your name.  The edgerunners could feel eyes on them, sizing them up.

The bearded, leather-vested bartender was business-like when Thorn approached; not unfriendly, but not exactly friendly, either: “What’ll it be?”  He said in a rough voice with a Chicano accent.  Thorn was about to answer when a young teen with stylish, freshly-cropped hair approached him:  “Thorn?!  From Thorns on Roses?!  Holy shit!  Nova!  I love your music, choom!”  Thorn was taken by surprise.  He wasn’t usually recognized without his music gig getup, and he was not keen on it, either; not while on a job, but there was an opportunity here.  He feigned looking around suspiciously “Yeah, choom, but don’t tell too many people.  It’s my night off.” 

“Right on, right on.  Lips are sealed and shit.  What brings you here?”  The star-struck kid asked.

“Well, I’ll let you in on something,"  Thorn replied.  “I’m looking for someone, red and blue hair; wears a yellow jacket with a green design.  Seen anyone like that?” 

“Nah...but my choomba might know!  He knows everyone around here!”  The kid turned towards some stairs next to the bar, and motioned for Thorn and the others to follow.  The bartender scowled, but shrugged and went back to wiping glasses. He turned his attention to an older woman bringing a crate of beer bottles from the back of the bar.  

The teen led the edgerunners upstairs to see a large man relaxing confidently at a booth as if he owned the place.  He was about the size of Wrench, with a studded, leather edgerunnner jacket over a tank-top.  His hair was done up in a retro, Street ronin style very few edgerunners would be caught dead sporting these days, but he made it work; who was going to tell a big guy like that any different?  It was likely that he was an edgerunner himself.  

The ronin was talking with someone, probably a another edgerunner; didn't wear gangoon colors.  They had a ratty, black t-shirt with a beat-up, yellow emoji face and faded jeans.  Hardpoint noticed the shape of a pistol tucked under the shirt behind their back. 

“All right, let me know when Padre has that gig lined up for us.  I need a new set of wheels, plus I don’t wanna keep imposing on Mama Welles.  Gotta get my own place.” the second edgerunnner said to the ronin. 

“Bah!   No te preocupes, V!”  The ronin replied with an accent not unlike the bartender’s.  “Mama loves you like one of her own, but I get it if you need your space.”   They stood up, did a choomy handshake, and embraced.  “See ya, Jackie,” the edgerunner, “V” said with a smile.  “Later, V!”  V turned and left with a brief glance at the edgerunner crew.  The ronin, Jackie, also turned his attention to the approaching group.

“Hey Jackie!  Check it out!  This is Thorn!  From Thorns on Roses!  That preem band I went to see the other week.  He’s got some questions and I told him you could help him out.  Err…is that ok?”  The kid said.  It was evident the kid looked up to the big guy, and desperately sought his approval.

Jackie expressed a microsecond of annoyance, but his face brightened up:“It’s ok, Miguel.”  Waving the teen’s concerns away made the kid smile.  The ronin spread his arms in a welcoming gesture at the crew.

“Hey chooms!  Sit down, chooms, sit down.  Ain’t never seen you here before.  Welcome to El Coyote Cojo!  I’m Jackie Welles.  Maybe I can help you, but my throat’s a little seca, if you know what I mean.”  He motioned to his throat.  “Could use a drink.” 

“I’ll get the drinks!  For the best rocker in Night City!"  The kid exclaimed.  It was evident in Jackie’s face that this wasn’t what he had intended.  The kid probably doesn’t make much.  Thorn noticed and said: “Ok, but I’ll get the next round.”  Jackie asked for his usual: shot of vodka, lime juice, and ginger beer, to which the kid nodded. The rest of the crew ordered Brosephs to make things both easy and affordable.

After a couple of rounds, Jackie became more choomy and forthcoming with information.  It sounded like the crew was referring to someone named Dalton, a local mechanic.  The guy had joined up with some Valentinos on a heist to steal form Gustavo Orta, another Valentino boss, and a friend of Jackie’s.  They got in way over their heads, and even though the heist was a success, Orta has been hunting down the crew, flatlining them, and taking his stuff back.  Jackie noted that Dalton was not a bad guy, but hooked up with the wrong crew.  He has a cute mainline that busks down at the NCART station on Congress Street in Vista del Rey.  She’s Mox, though, not just some street doll.  Her name was something like a season, Autumn, maybe?  “No me recuerdo.  Too much drink.  I got a date with my girl, so I better sober up.”  He got up to leave, and put his fist to his mouth to stifle a burp.  “Later!”

With a new lead to follow, the edgerunners left the bar soon after, but not until Thorn agreed to a selfie with Miguel.  On their way out of the bar, they were stopped by a small crew of Valentinos.  Spike was among them, giving Hardpoint a knowing smirk as she slithered around their leader like one of those synthetic, pet boas.  The leader, a woman, had exposed cleavage with alight tattoo of the Virgin Mary on her chest that looked like some glowing, stained-glass window by way of a graffiti artist.  She looked familiar to Hardpoint, but her hair was shaved close, so she was not completely sure; might have been with the Valentino hit team that night in Northside another life ago.

Regardless, the woman was straight to the point:  “I’m Maria Torres,"  she said this and paused, as if her name was supposed to mean something (she was Gustavo Orta's lieutenant,) but the edgerunners just returned blank stares.   If that annoyed her, she didn't let on.

"I know you are looking for Dalton.  We are too.”  She then addressed Hardpoint directly: “You know Spike, so call her if you find him and she’ll let me know.  There’s a thousand eddies in it for all of you if you do; easy money.”   Her gaze scanned the rest of the group.  What she left unsaid was that a gruesome death was the alternative reward for non-compliance, but it was clear from the edge in her words.  Thorn could tell that Wrench wasn’t taking the veiled threat well, and he placed his hand on one of the nomad’s Gorilla Arms in an attempt to calm him.  The synthetic muscle fibers were already twitching.  

“We’ll take it under advisement.”  Thorn said.  He looked at Hardpoint, who replied to Maria: “What he said.  I have Spike’s detes.” She didn’t look at Spike, though, speaking as if she wasn’t there.

Maria shrugged and motioned for her crew to go.  As the gangoon leader departed, she turned her head to address Hardpoint again: “I can see what Spike saw in you.  I’m sure you can do what needs to be done, but you better find Dalton before we do...if you want to get paid.”

Later, as the edgerunners left in Wrench’s van, Maven asked the crew:  “You’re not actually thinking of taking those Valentinos on their offer are you?  They’ll kill that guy and string him up on a traffic light next to some old sneaks!”  Hardpoint closed her eyes and shook her head.  Wrench glanced over his shoulder and spoke:  “Nah!  Those gangers have no intention of paying us.  They would have gone through a fixer if they had.  No, they would ice us right after we turned this Dalton in.  Besides, our client is paying better.”

 Thorn added: “Yeah, we won’t make it in this biz if we start stuffing our clients over.  That kind of rep gets around.  One thing is true, though, we gotta make sure we find Dalton before they do.”

Wrench yawned loudly.  It was infectious.  “Dalton’s mainline is a good lead, but there’s nothing we can do this late, and I need a doc to take a look at my ribs.  I think they’re cracked.  I’ll drop you all off.  Maven, keep the tracking device and fiddle with it for a better signal if you can, and call us if it pings again.  We’ll get together and find Dalton’s mainline soon.” 

The van sped away from El Coyote Cojo and Heywood, past some graffiti on the side of a building that read: “La Huesuda.”

 

To be continued…

Game Notes

• I had completed these encounters on the first session, but I’m splitting them up between posts for brevity (these posts get damn long.)  This “episode” wasn’t too action-packed, but just wait…
• Props to the author(s) of The Jacket for name-dropping locations from the video game!  I did a little location-scouting (my excuse for putting down the laptop and grabbing the game controller,) and found the Tom’s Diner on Urmland and Bradbury.  It’s the one where V meets up with the character of Takemura in the quest Playing For Time.  I even klepped a Villefort van for the screenshot above.  You're welcome.
  
• The GM oracle came up “yes” to see whether someone from a PC’s lifepath was at Tom’s Diner, as suggested in the adventure, and it ended up being Hardpoint’s enemy: a rockerboy (or girl in this case,) with gang contacts.  It was fun getting to flesh out this character out as well as Hardpoint’s past and personal beef with her.  I interpreted their story from oracular rolls.
  
• At one point, I found myself asking “why didn’t I take the netrunner instead of the tech?!”  So I projected my frustration unto poor little Maven.  She’ll get her chance to shine later, though.  
• Thorn being recognized despite looking different outside of a music gig becomes a common occurrence later on, so I’ve tried to have some fun with it. I imagine his transformation is like that of an anime magical girl by way of Ozzy Osbourne.
  
• Jackie’s cameo at El Coyote Cojo is part of the adventure, but I just couldn’t help asking the GM oracle: “Is V there?” and it came up "yes."  Of course, V looks like whatever the player decides in the video game, so I deliberately kept their description vague.  Feel free to imagine your own V there.
• A couple of more GM oracle rolls cemented Spike’s place in the Valentinos as Maria’s mainline.  I think I have plans for her to make more appearances, should the GM oracle agree.

Bonus: What’s on the menu in 2077?

What’s a box of kibble without a prize inside?  The only thing you can afford, choom!  Here are some tables to roll random food and drink items next time the characters are at a vending machine, restaurant, or Foodscape.  It includes items from the video game plus a couple of new ones I came up with to fill in the blanks (with new descriptions also by yours truly.) 

As an option, food items can restore 1d6 hit points per consumption, while non-alcoholic drinks grant a +1 bonus to the character’s next Athletics, Dance, or Endurance skill rolls for the next four hours.  A character can only gain a beneficial effect from a single food or non-alcoholic drink item twice per day (they can pig out to their heart's content, though.)

Alcoholic drinks penalize combat skills and Move by 1 per drink consumed (what, you though there was a benefit to drinking on the job?)  The effects of alcoholic drink items last 30 seconds (10 rounds) after the last one consumed.

Food and drink items that match the character’s current lifestyle and lower can be had at no cost, while higher lifestyle items must be paid for with cash on hand.  Just because you have a Kibble lifestyle doesn't mean you can't treat yourself once in a while!

I. What’s your lifestyle? (current or roll 1d6)

1-3. Kibble: because you can’t afford both rent and quality meals in the same month.

4-5. Prepack, all: the best cuisine a SCSM or Mark 24 konbini has to offer.

6. Fresh: if you have to ask the price, you obviously can’t afford it.

 

II. Food

Kibble (1d6 twice, 10eb)

1-3:

1. Cat food – tuna is tuna, man!  Hey!  Get your own, kitty!  Scat!
2. Holobites pie – tons of “fruit” flavors!  Most gonks don’t know what real fruit flavor is, anyway.
3. Orgiatic – chicky nugs and sauce without the nugs.
4. Moonchies – you can’t eat just one, because styrofoam is not as filling as it might seem.
5. EEZYBEEF – don’t want to pay extra for premade “food?”  Here’s the base ingredient alone; cook from scratch!  Also, worms.
6. Leelou Beans – rumor has it old President Kress had a whole jar of these at her desk in the Oval Office.

4-6:

1. Sojasil Machistador – don’t need to know what it means when your mouth is full of it.
2. Pop-Turd  – you’ve popped this lifelong classic with a glass of syn-milk before school, coffee before work, and a side of tears after the layoff and divorce.
3. Soy Paste – at least you’re not fooling yourself about your diet.
4. Dried Meat – available everywhere, no questions asked!  Also, better not ask.
5. Wontons – dump these delicious dumplings in your trash dump of a mouth!
6. NeuroPuffs (new) – part of a netrunner's complete breakfast, if by complete you mean extruded “egg” product, textured scop “bacon,” and “orange” drink.  The NetWatch decoder ring inside is totally not a monitoring device.
   

Prepack (1d6, then variable, 20eb)

1-3 (1d10):

1. Jambalaya – hot date in the trailer park tonight?  Don’t know how to cook?  Jambalaya!
2. Mr. Whitey (see also synthcoke, Cyberpunk RED p.229) – who needs to eat when you have 1,001 business ideas to work on while riding bikes and juggling at the same time?
3. Burrito XXL – also refers to the size of the clothes you will need to buy soon.
4. Taco – even if it comes from a SCSM, “street taco” is technically correct, the best kind of correct.
5. Schwab – currently competing with Slaughterhouse as the official snack of the Animals.
6. SynthSnack – starving rockerboys like to think it means “synthesizer.”  It doesn’t.
7. Hawt Dawg, with “fixings” - can’t go wrong with a good ol’ street dog…wait…you can.
8. Salad o' Sudden (new) – soy and algae in colorful, vegetable-like shapes; just spritz with water for that fresh look.
9. Scopburger (new) – you don’t need golden arches or Bozo makeup to enjoy this American classic.
10. FryDum Fries (new) – the oily taste of Reunification.

5-6 (1d6):

1. Slaughterhouse Jerky - comes in “meat” or...*snort*..."veggie" flavors.
2. RaMMMen – you couldn’t afford the RealWater to boil it in, so you’ll have to sprinkle the flavor packet on the cracker-like “noodles" instead.
3. All Foods Meat or Veggie Delight tube – the Space Age is now…and forever.
4. Yikes!  Tofu Bar – “Yikes!” is the correct word for this bland confection.
5. Ave Saitan – Warning: this devil-in-a-package voids your artificial colon implant's warranty.
6. Zio Enzo’s Pasta Nostra (new) – a delicious offer you can’t refuse.

Fresh (1d10, 40eb)

1. Pizza – with any topping you want; it’s all soy, worm, or insect protein, anyway.
2. Tamale – Montezuma’s Revenge comes free with purchase.
3. RealFruit – ever wanted to eat one of those old paintings?  Now you can!
4. Tajine! – 80% of the cost of the meal is the packaging alone.
5. Chocolate – “dark” or “milk” by food coloring only.
6. Norimaki – supermarket sushiya meets chemical factory.
7. Nigiri – straight out of Jiro’s nightmares.
8. Pierre’s Croissants – may or may not be French, but the “butter” flavor is definitely by SovOil, comrade.
9. Got Escargot? – Good news: it’s natural!  Bad news: it’s snails!
10. Gojira – the kaiju reference is in regards to the bowel movement later.

II. Would you like a drink with that?  (choose or roll 1d6 for alcoholic or non-alcoholic, then roll by lifestyle)

1-4. Non-alcoholic

Kibble (roll 1d10, 10eb)

1. Daring Dairy “Milkshake” - lactose intolerants can totally tolerate this, because melamine.
2. Matapang Coffee – the official drink of morning corpos and late-night edgerunners alike.  Also available in decaf if you want bitter, brown water, I guess.
3. Spunky Monkey – According to megacorp-funded fact-checkers, reports of simian antics after consumption of this drink are misinformation.
4. NiCola – Disclaimer: “Love” Is not an actual flavor.  NiCola is not responsible for any lack of romance or intimacy after consuming this product.
5. Cirrus Cola – it’s a classic, according to focus groups.
6. Coffee – what’s available at most places that don’t expect to serve coffee until some gonk asks for it.
7. Coffee with Syn-Milk – get synful, without the bloat.
8. Latte – “How is a Latte different from Coffee with Syn-Milk?  Beats me!  Get it?”  - Some “sentient” SCSM
9. Filtered Rainwater – it made a comeback after the Time of the Red.
10. Tap Water (new?) – straight from the Wellsprings Water Treatment Plant to you.

Prepack (roll 1d10, 20eb)

1. Real Water – It’s real because it says so in the can.  Also comes in sparkling, with RealGas.  
2. Naranjita – whether Classic or Zero-calorie, you’ll feel the chemistry later (mostly as cancer.)    
3. ChroManticore – the original, monstrous energy-giver.  Can’t afford a Sandevistan?  Drink ChroManticore!
4. NiCola, limited edition flavor - for a limited time only, like the eds in your account.
   
5. Soulhiker – we got sued by Arasaka, but we’re better now, seriously…*nervous laughter.* Enjoy!
6. Oolong Tea – if the lady at Kabuki market said it’s “tea”, it’s tea.  Feel free to take up any complaints with the local Tyger Claws.
7. Tiancha – Smile!  Exotic, citrus flavors never looked so creepy.
8. Soop – because warm, liquefied soy paste with flavor costs extra.
9. Kopi Kadal Coffee – the choice of the only “good” cops in Night City, and those who are getting to old for this shit.
10. MealStrom (new) – Part drink, part meal; 200% your daily requirement of metal.

Fresh (1d10, 40eb)

1. Cactus Juice – nomads can get this for free, but you gotta pay for it, yuppie.
2. Sain Ruisseau  – also available for free at a baptismal font near you.  Padre would disapprove, though.
3. ChroManticore, flavored – the same energy drink, but you pay twice for chimeric variety.
4. Vita-Mine – because vitamin deficiency is for plebs.    
5. Té Sencha – think you’re turning Japanese?  Saburo disagrees.
6. Té Matcha – a taste of tradition, even in a pod hoteru.
7. Té Oolong – Little China in a cup.
8. Vatnajökull – whether from a still, or sparkling, you too can hydrate like a viking!
9. Tomato "Juice" – just add vodka for a weekend brunch.
10. Water – wait…is this stuff is supposed to be crystal clear?  Who would have thought?!

5-6. *Hic* boozshe…pleashe…

Kibble (1d10, 30eb)

1. Trailerbrew Beer – it’s not illegal if it’s for personal consumption.     
2. Moonshine – the buzz is worth the blindness.
3. Tequila Especial – it’s not special in the premium sense, no senor.    
4. Pitorro – fancy word for island moonshine; will still make you ciego.
5. Chirrisco – alcoholic love potion; only works around closing time.
6. Bumelant – Koleś, just give up!
7. 21st Stout – the beer of the working man.
8. Broseph – it’s a frat party every day, brah!
9. Abydos – fits in most small, brown, synthpulp bags.  Also available in King Size, if you're compensating for something.
10. Smash (see Cyberpunk RED p.229) – your ripperdoc said not to mix booze and drugs, but you do you.
    

Prepack (1d10, 60eb)

1. Blue Grass – when yo baby done left ya, and yo caaat is gooone.  Whoooaaa laaawd!
2. Papa Garcin – the official rum of Party Man and Thorns on Roses.
3. Joe Tiel's Okie Hooch – grandpappy’s favorite engine degreaser and after-work drink.
4. Conine – You can forget her.  Just drink, mon ami.
5. Bolshevik Vodka – in still-Soviet Russia, vodka drinks you!
6. O'Dickin Whiskey – you ain’t just dickin’ around when you can hold your brown.
7. Pingo Pálido – a couple of bottles of this and you’ll be pale all over, not just your pee-pee place.

Fresh (1d6, then variable)

1-3 (1d10, 90eb):

1-2. Calavera Feliz – don’t forget to pour one out for the dead. 
3-4. Randver – for those annoying gonks who use terms like “IPA.”
5. Ab-synth – the choice of tortured artists yesterday and today. 
6. La Perle des Alpes – winner of several awards, not that you would know.
7. Champaradise – what’s there to celebrate?  Do you need a reason?
8. Centzon Totochtin – hardened solo, or cartel boss?  Why not both?  Centzon!
9. Donaghy's – there is no happy hour for the cold-hearted, corpo climber. 
10. Captain Blackhand (new) – a dark rum for the dark heart of a merc.

4-5 (1d6, 150eb):

1. Chateau Delen 2012 – save it in your cellar for that special occasion. You do have a wine cellar, don’t you?
2. Armagnac Massy – make sure the sniffer is clear so you can look down your nose at your lessers.
3. Sake Utagawa – banzai, buckaroo!
4. ROMVLVS GIN – hold the tonic, and drink to empire!
5. Baalbek Arak – don’t drink too much, habibi, we ride at dawn!
6. Paul Night – drink to big dreams, and die tragically before your time.
7. A David Martinez (cocktail) – the memories will make you want to stay at your house.
8. A Johnny Silverhand (cocktail) – the taste will never fade away; neither will the hangover.
9. A Jackie Welles (cocktail) – Warning: planning a heist while under the influence of alcohol is not recommended.
10. A Weyland Boa Boa (cocktail, new) -  a bourbon old-fashioned with a splash of habushu, cane sugar, and snakeskin garnish.     
    

This material based on the Cyberpunk Edgerunners Mission Kit is unofficial content provided under the Homebrew Content Policy of R. Talsorian Games and is not approved or endorsed by RTG. This content references materials that are the property of R. Talsorian Games and its licensees.