Guess you had a choice — throw your charming French netrunner buddy under the bus and cozy up to the NUSA… or gamble on Mr. Hands. You picked the long odds. Risky as hell, but for some reason known only to you (and maybe a bottle of Black Lace), Hands bit.
Nobody expected anyone to walk out of the whole Songbird mess clean. But somehow? You pulled it off.
Songbird’s breathing, Aurore’s still jacked in, and Hands owes three badass netrunners a favor. Not a bad day’s work, choom.