Vestigial Memories, Session 8: Interrogation room

Scene setup

NPC skill level roll:
[D8]: [7] => experienced [D10 + D10]

Negotiating position
Advantages:
- Opponent has suffered stress
- Opponent is in custody
- Opponent is in the interrogation room
- I present my case very well
Disadvantages:
- Opponent must take a serious risk to help me
- Opponent has nothing to gain by helping me

Opposed roll, MANIPULATION vs STAMINA:
Locke [2D10 + D12] vs Zhao [D10 + D10] = [10 + 8] vs [6 + 4] => 2 successes for Locke (critical success)

Scene 8: The Accountant of Souls

I walk into the interrogation room carrying two steaming cups of coffee. I slide one across the table to her. I’m limping, my ribs screaming with every step, but I keep my face a mask of professional calm.

Locke: "Greetings, Zhao nǚshì."

She flinches slightly at the honorific. It’s been a long time since anyone in this building treated her with respect. She eyes the cup skeptically, then takes a slow, trembling sip.

Locke: "I believe we started on the wrong foot. Let’s start over."

Zhao: [Silence]

Locke: "Bootleg Replicants. Ever heard of them?"

Her eyes widen, just for a heartbeat, before she pulls back behind a shrug.

Locke: "I think it’s pure cruelty. Dragging a being into this world without the means to form an identity. 'A copy of a copy,' as a mutual friend described it to me today."

She nearly drops the coffee. The mention of Kael—or someone like him—hits home. I lean in for the final blow.

Locke: "I don’t care why Vestige is doing this. But I will end it. And I think you want that too. I can link you to a murder at the Snake Pit thirty years ago—the gun was yours. But I’m not here to bury you, Zhao. Not until I’ve heard your side. You’ve got nothing left to lose."

Critical Success Roll:
[D8]: [5] => Make an impression on an NPC

The Confession: The Birth of Vestige

Zhao lets out a long, ragged sigh. The weight of thirty years begins to pour out.

Zhao: "It started thirty years ago. I was young, political, and very stupid. I joined the pro-replicant underground. We weren't just holding signs; we were terrorists. We vandalized Tyrell warehouses as cover to steal their manufacturing data.

Zhao: "They didn't understand half of what they stole, but they understood enough to duplicate existing models. They called it 'freedom'—the ability to reproduce without a master. I was a fool. I believed them. I used my shop to smuggle components. Then, they gave me an 'assistant' to test the stability of their work."

Locke: "Kasper."

Zhao: [Nodding] "He started asking who he was. Most people never get an answer to that question; Kasper did. It shattered him. One day, he stole the suppressed .22 from under my counter and vanished. I didn't know what he'd done until I saw the news about the Snake Pit."

Tears begin to streak through the grime on her cheeks.

Zhao: "That was the day I turned. I couldn't stop Tyrell, but I could stop Vestige. For decades, I sabotaged their supplies, but they grew too large. They found other sources. So, we devised a plan."

Locke: "You, Kael, and who else?"

Zhao: "No. I won't give you names. I’m the only one who will pay for this. The only way to kill Vestige was to destroy the data. There were only two copies: one in their factory, one on a portable storage drive. A few days ago, the factory was blown up. Kael stole the drive. He hid with me, but they found him. He ran with the data four days ago."

Locke: "He made it to my apartment. He asked me to release you. But then another one—a brother with a bird tattoo—attacked me. There are more of them, aren't there?"

Zhao: "Many more. Some are loyal to the cause. Some are just... lost."

She looks me straight in the eye, her voice desperate.

Zhao: "You see it now. This 'bootleg' existence is a sin. You have to stop it."

The Promise

Locke: "I will, Zhao. No doubt about that."

I stand up, the coffee cold in my hand.

Locke: "You’ve admitted to some serious crimes. But the information you've given me... it's worth more than a conviction."

I lean down, my voice a whisper intended only for her, away from the room's microphones.

Locke: "Your heart is in the right place. I’ll do what I can to see you're treated fairly."

She nods, a small spark of hope in her tired eyes. I leave the room and head for the elevators. I have a destination now.

I need to follow that data device. Time to visit old Emil Runciter.