Thanks, James Meiers.
I keep having a plot hook rattling around in my brain-- one of these 'true drakes' showing up at the runners' current hangout in the rain, in their metahuman form, barely alive (gunshot wounds, blade wounds, claw wounds), dripping blood thinned by the downpour. In one hand, she is clutching a doccase (Which is filled with a mix of credsticks, scrip from half the AAA corps, and uncut gems, the amount about right for a good pay for a 'run).
She gasps out a phrase in an unknown language, remembers where she is, utters "Please... help..." and passes out.