3rd February 2071
So. We’re rebuilding again or at least we’re trying. Someone did a run on the Nest and took out the clinic, the hackers’ containers and the bridge. It was a job well done, I have to admit that. No-one of us died and we have pretty much no idea who did this, not for certain. But why, I can tell you that. Whoever did this was working for someone who wanted the First Nations out of here, to cut them off from their base. Without us, their chances of winning this war look much worse.
We decided to move the clinic out of the Nest, probably to an abandoned clinic that’s not on any gang’s turf. Not so far from the Nest, we’re thinking about having some sort of shuttle service, for now with a school bus. And we’re trying to find the people from Bob’s Quick Stitch Clinic to see if they’d be interested to work with us – their clinic’s a victim of the drug war as well.
As for Cyphar and Dee – Dee’s staying at the Nest for now because whoever’s fucking with her doesn’t give up quickly. I took her to her parents’ place with Cyphar and she came running back, followed by a drone. I tried to lose that thing in the Barrens and we strayed onto the turf of the Crimson Guard. They helped us out with the drones and then invited us to dinner.
They have their headquarters at the Funhouse and I’m telling you, we’ll have trouble from there sooner or later. Yeah, it’s all wonderful: social housing for the squatters, education for anyone who wants it, drug programs, all that jazz. They even have their own currency, Crimson Gold, that will buy you anything at the Funhouse for dirt cheap. But I for one would rather not live in the personal project of a dragon. I don’t know what she wants, but seriously, do not meddle in the affairs of dragons. For you are insignificant and can be thrown away like garbage.