Dr. Adimore
watched as the subject repeated base technique again and again on the Wing Chun
dummy. The Iron circle theory being the basis of all trapping forms, developing
correct positioning was key.
How many times had he witnessed the birth of the ultimate new tech, only to
watch as it went from SOTA, to the standard by which all others were measured,
and from there to simply common. Monowire, the ASIST,
and now even the sten blade. Only the expense
prevented beta level cyberware from hitting the
streets in mass.
He couldn’t help but think of the irony, the new direction of SOTA was not
the machine, but the man. It’s funny, having come all this way only to start
again at the beginning.
They were again doing things to people that had never been done before. The
small side effects like arthritis, muscle spasms, and a new type of Parkinson's
disease were slowly being overcome. Results were not as impressive as the cyber
zombie or a phys ad, and many of the team doubted the prototypes ability to
defeat them. Even so, the final major hurdle were the
random mutations, not level of lethality.
Regardless, they now had produced a viable beta unit. It’s
training had begun months ago and it was showing progress. Unlike skill softs, of wired reflexes, natural speed was a result of
conditioned response, and muscle memory. These things took time and repetition.
Oddly enough, teaching them not to blink in combat took up a majority of
the time. Engagements at their level take place literally faster than the blink
of an eye. The human brain had to have it’s neurons rewired in order to
compensate, and again the key was conditioned response, reacting correctly by
reflex took place on a basic level, too fast for the conscious mind to even
register.
Not even God could have created a more evolved human. But then, when the
almighty NuYen was your god, who knew what a little
more money could do…
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Drek jobs from drek
fixers thought Jinx. This was the 5th address Jaba,
the fat slug, had given.Oh how the mighty had fallen, two years ago Jinx would have spit in Jaba’s geasy face.
From all the info Jinx could find, this Yeager seemed to be a standup guy,
but this was the only work they could get. Jaba, “the
fixer,” was also new to the
F.D.C. was home, but The FedPol, the Secret
Service, and seemingly half the the UCAS Dept. of
Justice had been after them for almost two years.
**Two Years Ago
“Boss, a limo just exploded down the street, and a big giant magic tornado
is hanging over it,” said Boxer the teams rigger, “I don’t think we should go
that way.”
Suddenly, it seemed that every law enforcement body in the world came
popping up out the woodwork. KnightErrant, Lonestar, The Feds, and a slew of
shadowy types that screamed No Such Agency. Worse yet, they all seemed
to be running in their general direction.
As the entire area was cordoned off, Jinx and his crew were forced to
abandon the GMC bulldog they used as a mobile HQ. Traffic had ground to a halt
due mostly to rubber neckers.
They were forced to abandon almost all gear that they couldn’t carry in public,
which was most of it, and it didn’t help that they were still dressed mostly in
light tactical armor.
It was that or be forced to answer as to who they were, and what they were
doing less than a block away while the UCAS president was being assassinated.
Only Jinx’s intimate knowledge of the F.D.C. area had allowed them to fade into
the crowd. The stepvan was eventually located by
officials and searched. The small weapons cache was located as well as Boxer’s
prized Steel Lynx.
Some heavy’s were called in to do a complete analysis. Their astral residue
was all over the van and had allowed the virtual army of shaman employed by the
government to scan for Jinx and his crew.
Jinx and company had been running ever since. They had become prime
suspects in the assassination of the most beloved president in UCAS history. It
didn’t help that nobody could explain how the assassination was done, or
explain the magical vortex that marked it. It didn’t help that every member of
Jinx’s crew were magically active, with the exception of Boxer. It also didn’t
help that the name of their team was The Wizards.
They had unofficially become the explanation behind the President’s death.
No fixer on the eastern seaboard would touch them. Hell, half the fixers they
ran into wanted to kill them!
Life just wasn’t fair!
++
Jinx clicked his comm twice to signal that he was
in position. He was rewarded with three clicks from Max. Jinx was still waiting
for Jester to acknowledge.
While he was waiting, Jinx once again ran through the run. He and his team
were to hit a soft target by the name of Yeager. Yeager had been one of the
very best runners of his generation. Years ago he had made the fabled, “big
score,” that was every shadowrunners dream. His
mistake was in not punching out right then and there. Instead Yeager had tried
to stay in the game.
Now his ware wasn’t as SOTA, and old age was slowing his meat. Yeager had
lost his edge, so it seemed. So instead of running the shadows himself, Yeager
had decided to try his hand as a fixer. It was the next logical step for every
runner that survived long enough. All the contacts were already there, and an
old shadowrunner wasn’t really the office type.
Yeager owned what was left of this entire condoplex
in Redmen. Yeager had busted down all the walls on
the second floor, and had converted it into one massive room.
It seemed that he had turned it into a semi-livable residence. It was only
one of several buildings he owned. Just then, Jester clicked in. Four clicks
signaled that Jester was in position.
Jinx took a few breaths, and refocused
on the present. He did a quick astral scan of Yeager’s doss, and found
something peculiar. The ward surrounding Yeager’s doss was weak, and allowed a
view inside, just not actual entry. As such, Jinx was forced to observe
everything from a distance.
The thing was,
there was something funny about Yeager’s aura. It seemed that the man lacked
all emotion. All Jinx saw was the shape of a man
sitting on the coach. He had not moved at all in the last five minutes.
“He could be asleep?” Thought Jinx, but he was just too far away to get a
clear picture.
Max clicked again over the comm. to relay his desire to begin. Jinx
couldn’t help but smile. The kid was little more than a thrill junky. As
evident by his chosen mode of entry for this particular op.
Max had wanted to cast a levitate spell on himself, and take a flying leap
at the second floor windows that stretched from floor to ceiling on the east
side of the building. Max would then shoot out the glass, and burst into the
room through the window. It was flashy, dangerous and stupid…kinda like Max.
Jinx at first had argued against it, but Jester had said, “Let the kid try it.”
“If it works we’re golden, if it doesn’t, he gets blown to shreds,” said
Jester with smile, “No big loss there.”
Max gave Jester the finger as Jinx considered the proposal. The Wizards
hadn’t been running the shadows long as a team, before their little case of
mistaken identity. So, as good as they were individually, they were yet to gel
as a unit. The very best teams had been running the shadows for years, not just
running away for years. I fact for the first few months The
wizards had been split up. There was no safety in number when you were on the
lamb.
As there were only two other viable points of entry, the north stairwell,
and the west side fire escape. Jinx didn’t really see a reason not to agree.
“We’re two mages, and an eagle shaman.” Said Max, although
Jinx wasn’t really a mage.
“Three experienced and awakened runners should be able to take down one
stupid norm in his fifties.”
Too late to change plans now anyway, but Jinx was Team leader, it was part
of his job to worry…
At that point Jinx said the first real words over the Comm,
he spoke softly, but with authority,
“Go.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yeager’s cell phone kept beeping, but
Yeager wasn’t about to answer it. His silent alarm had sounded almost fifteen
minutes ago. It alerted him to the fact that somebody had entered his security
perimeter, and had shut it down.
Yeager’s genius for defense was that he always operated the idea that, “The
siege mentality is ultimately self-destructive.” Regardless of how good your
defenses were, they could eventually be breached.
As such Yeager had setup a simple backup. On a separate closed system, not
tied to the matrix, he had an optical sensor watch the little red dot on the
camera’s that provided him a view of the streets. If it blinked off, and he were still being provided a video feed, then he would know
that he was watching a video loop.
This gave him time setup his counter measures.
A more powerful ward, or better IC on his security system would have been
smarter in some ways, but Yeager didn’t want to repel his enemies, he wanted to
draw them in.
Yeager then proceeded to remove a mannequin coved in a thick layer of moss,
and place the mannequin on the couch in front of the trid.
This was the dangerous part, if a mage was snooping while Yeager was doing
this, the mage would see two aura’s in the shape of a man moving around, the
mage would then see one of the “men” disappear into an elevator shaft. The
elevator shaft was partially covered in moss. Yeager had begun cultivating it
months ago, but it was still patchy in most places. He hopped it would be
enough.
Yeager had sealed both the top and the bottom of the shaft, and assumed
that no hostels would see the elevator shaft as a potential point of entry.
That was one of the few holes in this particular defense. Because Yeager lived
on the second floor, of a three-story building, the two most likely points of
entry were the North side stairs, and the west side fire escape.
As Yeager hung from the greased elevator cable he relied upon his
cybernetic strength to maintain his grip. There was only enough room for one
foot on the small ledge inside the elevator shaft, as he closed the elevator
doors half way.
He kept a full armory at each of his publicly listed doss’s/traps and as
such was able to dress himself in light military grade battle armor, as well as
a panther autocannon on a gyro mount. He was armed to
the frigg’n gonads, yet still unsatisfied.
“I wish I had my vindicator,” thought Yeager
The cyclic rate on the vindicator mini
gun was so fast that he could have loaded it with gel rounds and still have
turned an americar into Swiss cheese. Not that the
Panther autocannon was much less. He had loaded it
with standard rounds, which still packed enough, “ummph,”
to cause concern for the structural integrity of the condoplex.
A stray hit to one of the support members would probably be enough to bring the
whole building down on him.
The bad guys were in for one Hell of a surprise…hopefully.
Just then the power was killed and only moments later the doors to his
North and west side stairs were blown in. There was no explosion so Yeager assumed
that magic was being employed at both locations. His east side windows cracked
and formed enormous spider webs as light rounds began to impact them. Yeager
was thankful he had paid extra for the armored glass.
Yeager’s older model cyber eyes barely had enough time to adjust to the
gloom, when almost in unison stun grenades were tossed in from the North, and
West side stairwells. Yeager’s flash compensators clicked over just in time to
allow him to see two figures burst into the room mere seconds behind the stun
grenades. At this point Yeager made his move, and swung out of the elevator
shaft.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Max was NOT enjoying himself.
“O, Frag me with a pogo stick!” exclaimed Max as
he dove for cover.
The stun grenade bounced off the armored glass, and exploded were Max had
stood only seconds before.
He had shot up the window like he was supposed to, and had tossed a
flash/bang like he was supposed to, but instead of shattering, like they were
supposed to, the windows remained intact. Worse yet, Max watched as his stun
grenade bounced harmlessly off the window and back towards him.
Max was really slotted of. So he exploded the windows with the most
powerful mana bolt he could summon, ignored the mage
drain, cast a levitate spell and leapt up towards the windows, and again
ignored the mage drain. As he was flying towards the shattered windows he cast
a bullet barrier, and only then started to feel the effects of mage drain.
As Max floated towards the window
ledge he heard Jinx yelling over the comm.
“Abort! Abort!”
It sounded like somebody had opened up with a friggin auto cannon. Max was in mid fight towards the
window with no way of stopping himself.
The impulse to shoot his way through the
ceiling suddenly over came Max. Flying in the window, and up through the
ceiling was an exit that had style. As he began to shoot in the exact opposite
direction in which he was traveling. He, inexplicably, began to slow down.
As such, not only did he NOT shoot his way through the ceiling, but he had
stopped himself in mid air right in front of the window.
He had also announced his arrival by shooting up the ceiling. Which by the
look of things would NOT have allowed him to just “fly through,” not only were
there fiber optic cables, water pipes, and electrical lines in the way, but the
floor above the foam ceiling tiles was made of plasticrete.
Max’s last thought s before being
blown halfway down the block was, “What the hell was that beeping?”
+++++++
Jinx rolled through the doorway from the fire escape acquired the target,
still strangely sitting on the couch, and turned him into a pin
It was only then that Jinx got his
first clear look at the man sitting…
“Abort!” “ABORT!” screamed Jinx into
the comm. To his horror, a man in full tactical armor stepped out of the
supposedly defunct elevator shaft, and opened up on Jester with an autocannon. His last thought before combat ensued was,
“What the hell is that beeping?”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yeager couldn’t help but admire the
coordination of the hostiles. The doors were blown in followed by flash/bangs,
the windows were broken as a distraction, and the two primaries through the
door made entry almost in unison.
Too bad for them they had shot up the
wrong target. Yeager first acquired the hostile to the west, and opened up. His
first two rounds were defeated by some kind of magical barrier, but his third
round succeeded in blowing the man back out into the stairwell. As Yeager
turned to acquire his second target he was struck in the shoulder what felt
like a mana bolt. Yeager had been hit by enough of
them in his time to know what it was.
It hit him so hard that it spun him around towards the east side windows.
Just then, before the attacking mage could hit him with another spell, the
armored windows exploded sending armored glass everywhere, some of it hitting
the attacking mage.
As Yeager looked out of what was left of the window an elf came floating
right into his sights, all the while shooting at some invisible threat in the
ceiling?
Yeager didn’t have time to consider
the oddity of it all and just blasted the tinker bell wanna
be. Once again instead of exploding in a shower of blood and gore the…flying
elf…person…was protected by a bullet barrier. Unfortunately for the elf, he was
levitating. As such, ALL of the kinetic energy form the explosive round went
into propelling the elf a good 30 yards down the street. Which
if Yeager remembered correctly was called, “
By this time both Yeager and the last
remaining mage had regained their balance. Yeager, having been distracted by
Peter Pan, looked down as he felt a small object hit his boot. The shock wave
from the concussion grenade blasted Yeager off his feet, and into the south
side wall.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Jinx knew that the op was hosed. His
only concern now was getting his team out in one piece. He yelled over the
comm.
“Boxer! We need EVAC NOW!”
“You got it boss.” came
the reply.
Jinx had bought himself some time with the grenade, and ran across the room
to the stairs where Jester had been. I hindsight, Jinx would realize that if he
had only pressed the attack, and finished Yeager, he would have completed the
mission, as well as end the threat Yeager posed to his team.
As it was though Jinx had been
spooked, nothing had gone right from the beginning. The target was not an aged
and decrepit old man. Hell, the target wasn’t even where he was supposed to be.
They had been tricked by a dummy of some kind, and had walked head first into a
trap. Then Jester had been taken out before he knew what had hit him. Max had
been late to make entry, and had distracted Jinx with the glass shower long
enough for Jinx to lose his concentration on a sleep spell he was preparing,
and then Max had managed to have himself launched into the night like an
avenger missile.
Jinx just wanted out, NOW. He reached
Jester and almost lost it. The Wizards were well trained, well organized, and
well coordinated, but they had also been lucky. Jinx had yet to see his friends
and teammates killed, hurt or maimed seriously. Also, they had failed to
maintain any sort professional detachment from each other. Running for your
lives for the past two years had that kind of effect.
Now Jester looked like he had been
hoop fragged by a troll, a really big one. He was
covered in blood, and it looked like every bone in his body had been broken. As
Jinx picked him up and carried him out the building, he could feel Jester’s
spirit was only moments from abandoning his body.
Right then, Boxer rolled up in the
Mitsubishi Nightsky they had boosted earlier.
“Look who I found.” Said
boxer “As he pointed to a bruised a battered Max in the passenger seat.
Jinx eased Jester into the back, and
got in beside him.
“Get us out of here Boxer.” said
Jester as they tore off into the night.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Slowly the stars cleared from Yeager’s vision as he watched the last mage
standing run towards his fallen fellow, and exit stage left. Yeager just let
them go. It galled him that he was forced to break his own rule, “Never allow the enemy to escape and regroup,” but Yeager’s body
just wasn’t up to the task. That final grenade had hurt him bad, his old bones
were laced, but calcium deposits had built up around the man/metal interfaces.
The lacing may have allowed his bones to retain their strength, but it did
nothing to restore the bone marrow lose he suffered as a natural effect of old
age. It had also been found that the removal of bone lacing sometimes caused
the onset of a type of osteoporosis.
He also suffered from deterioration of the nerve/electrode interfaces with
his cyberware, but because he could afford it, Yeager
was able to overhaul almost all of his mods. He’d had
his dermal sheathing removed. As he aged his immune system weakened, and could
not handle the extra strain caused by the sheathing.
He had his reflexes unwired in order to combat the effects of a
neurological disorder that caused what were now know as the black shakes. His
system had been jacked up to the max for years.
It was only recently that new systems had been developed that allowed users
to “turn on” their wired reflexes. He had had the old style “constant on” type.
As the ringing in his ears faded,
Yeager’s hearing slowly returned. Yeager’s first thought was, “What the hell is
that beeping?” Unbelievably, half the couch had been blown into the great
beyond, and one of the few things to survive was his cell phone. It was
beeping.
“Hello?” said Yeager.
“Sir, are you jfdk
fjdkal ;
” came the response.
“What?” said Yeager, “I can barely
hear you son, speak up.”
“SIR IT’S JARHEAD! ARE YOU ALRIGHT YOUR ALARM WAS ACTIVATED AND I WAS
NOTIFIED BY DM!” said Jarhead
“Stop yelling Jarhead I’m old not deaf.” Said Yeager
“Yes sir, Sir? Can I get a SitRep?” asked
Jarhead.
“In a minute, what’s your twenty?” asked Yeager
“I’m in route, ETA 5 min.” Said Jar head.
Yeager couldn’t help but fall back into Mil speak when talking to Jarhead.
They had both, at one time, been corporate
security and all military organizations shared a love of acronyms and jargon.
Yeager called it Mil speak. Floors were decks, bathrooms were heads, walls were
bulkheads, they always said things like ETA, FUBAR,
and BUTTERBARS.
“A couple of tangos tried to run a two way firing range on good’ol Yeager.” replied Yeager. “It’s a real cluster
around here. What took you so long to respond, you with Mary Jane Rottencrouch or something?” Asked Yeager.
“No sir.” Came the response, “I was making a head call,
and I left my comm. on the dresser.”
Yeager new that Jarhead was feeling guilty about being late and thought
he’d poke at him, what else were father figures for?
“You spent too much time as a high speed projectile interceptor boy, I told
you Intel was the way to go, infantry would have only
got you killed.” Said Yeager, “An Intel op would never have been out of
contact.”
“Sorry Sir, it won’t happen again sir.” Said Jarhead.
“It dambwell better not.” said Yeager” Now where
the hell is DM?”
+++++++++++++++
The 2D image of a norm in his early twenties went skating through the
matrix. He wore blue Jeans and a faded white T-shirt that bore the words
Dungeon Master on them.
DM arrived at Yeager’s LTG and was amazed at the destruction. Whoever had
done this was sloppy, but immensely powerful. They had simply terminated the
feed to Yeager’s security system, destroyed the entire system breach sub
protocol, and inserted a still image of the streets into the video feed.
The sloppy decker hadn’t even taken the time to
create a true video loop. Granted the node had been protected only by gray ice
to keep out the kids, and nosy neighbors, but whoever did this had to be fast
enough to terminate an alert return. Not only that, but destroying an entire
sub protocol with such low level offensive progs
indicated massive processing power. DM could see it was a crude assault prog by all the fragmentation it had left behind.
If this had been anything other than a system designed to illicit a sense
of confidence, and draw the enemy into a trap, brute force tactics like these
would have got the hostile decker brain fried in
seconds.
“Uh oh, what’s this?” thought DM.
Way back in the bad old days before the matrix, A person on “the net” as it
was known, could be tracked by only their IP address. Today things were much
more complex but the principle was still the same. If a decker
had logged into, or even accessed a system in any way, he left his mark. If in nothing else but the data around him.
That’s how the tracking utils worked. Of course
there were ways a smart decker could mask his
signature, and even fake new ones, but this decker
apparently had no clue as to how to hide in the matrix.
DM, like most deckers, spent most of his time as
a data snoop. As such his sensory utils were oriented
towards pattern recognition.
DM detected a sort of ripple in the flow of data around the node. Whoever
had attacked the node had moved in and out of the system so quickly that he had
interrupted the regular flow of data around him. As the sloppy decker’s passage had interrupted the data flow around him,
the decker had taken no precautions in masking his
passage. And like the wake from a boat had left a trail back to his point of
egress.
“Your MINE!” thought DM
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dr. Adimore was pleased with the subject’s
progress.
“I feel that the subject should be field tested.” Said
Dr. Adimore.
“Sir, I believe the subject is ready as well, however I do not see how what
you propose is a test of his abilities.” Responded Blake.
Blake was Dr. Adimore’s aid, and was a gifted
young gene therapist.
“The subject was designed as a deep cover operative capable of operating
without detection regardless of detection method be it
magical, or technological. The subject’s primary advantage is that it had been
enhanced at the genetic level.” Said Blake, “Sending the subject out for a
simple termination seems…so…wasteful.” Continued Blake.
Dr. Adimore responded, “I realize this, I simply
wish to test the subject’s ability to perform.” Said Adimore,
“We are breaking new ground here my friend, we must walk before we can fly.”
“What could we possibly learn from an exercise of this nature?” contested
Blake.
“It has yet to kill.” Responded Adimore, “We’ve
been training it with the best, people we have available. We’ve stressed the
importance of muscle memory and conditioned response, we’ve tested it in single
combat, and multiple threat engagements, we’ve trained
it with melee weapons, projectile weapons and explosives of every description.
Given it lessons on small unit tactics, mass combat, urban engagements, wooded
engagements, and gorilla warfare.”
“But we have yet to see how it reacts in truly unpredictable circumstance.”
said Dr. Adimore, “All of these things are useless
unless our creation can make that intuitive leap as it were, and put everything
it knows together.” Said Dr. Adimore.
“Unless it can go beyond it’s training, and adapt, then we have failed.” Said Dr. Adimore.
To which Blake had no response.
“Why kill this man?” asked Blake.
“He is the perfect target, he has multiple
defenses both mundane and extraordinary.” Said Dr. Adimore. “and nobody will
really miss him when he’s gone.”
“He also once cheated me out of a few thousand NuYen.”
Added Dr. Adimore.
“Now, have it go kill that fat piece of drek Jaba.”
++++++++++++++++
“I’m gonna kill that fat piece of drek Jaba!” said Max.
“Shut up and help me with Jester.” said Jinx
“What the frag do you want me to do, I’m no
healer.” said Max
“Just help me keep him from going into shock, elevate his legs and keep him
awake!,” said Jinx.
Jinx could feel Max gathering the energy around himself,
and focus it.
“DON”T SEND A FRIGGIN MANA BOLT into him!” said Jinx “What are you doing?!”
Said Jinx.
“I don’t know, I thought maybe giving him some mana
would help too.” Said Max
Jink let it go, he knew that Max was
disoriented from his injuries. Jinx, like Max, was no healer. Jester was the
healer, but the only thing Jinx could think of to do was cast the spells he
knew, and hope for the best. As Jinx reached across the car and lay his hand on Jester he began to channel the healing magic
into Jester as slowly and as gently as he could.
After a few moments, Jinx looked into the astral, and was relieved to see
that Jester’s soul was no longer trying to rip itself from his body. The danger
had not passed, but the pressing need to do something, ANYTHING, right the frag now, was gone.
“Boxer, we need to get him to a healer, now!” said Jinx
“You got it boss.” said Boxer as he wheeled the car around in a neat 180,
and accessed what little info he had downloaded while floating around in the
Seattle shadowland server.
“What the frig happened in the matrix Boxer!” yelled Max, “He was friggin wait’n for us man!”
continued Max, “Why the frag didn’t we sell the Excaliber, if you couldn’t use it in the first place.!” said Max.
The Excaliber had been one of a set of two cyberdecks that the Wizards had stolen on their last run in
FDC. Two Million in NuYen worth of cyberdecks, and few other “odds and ends.” Just
before every law enforcement agency in the country had started looking for
them, they had been able to unload one of the decks for about half of what it
was worth.
They had spent almost every penny of
that money hiding from The Feds over the past two years.
“Look,” Responded the young orc, “How many times
do I need to tell you I’m NOT A DECKER!!” said Boxer, “I did everything right,
I DID shutdown his security system. I got no clue how he knew you were coming,
maybe you scraged around and tripped a magic alarm or
something!”
“The only reason, THE ONLY REASON! I ever agreed to try a little decking
was that the Excaliber gave me such a massive edge.”
said Boxer.
Boxer was a rigger, but he just happened to have two data jacks. When he
decided to go under the knife and have his ware installed, he had not looked
forward to ever having to do it again to upgrade. So he had opted for an
upgraded dual system jack, one for rigging, and one for decking. Besides, they
were having a
Two years ago when they were forced to run, Boxer had no choice but to deck
for the team. The outside decker they had hired
dropped them like a hot Willy Peat.
Boxer’s first couple of attempts at decking were
complete and utter disasters. His first chosen Icon was a massive Tank. A
rigger’s mentality being if he could be anything he wanted, it would be a super
heavy tank with rigged air and ground support.
So initially, Boxer had a truly impressive matrix presence, and he was astonishingly
fast…for a super heavy tank flanked by air and ground support smartframs. Boxer soon learned that this mentality for
decking was all wrong. A decker’s strength lay in his
ability to move undetected. There was no way in the world a single decker could go toe to toe with the power of a corp. main
frame.
Boxer had been dumped, and/or forced
to puchout more in the last two years then some deckers had in their entire careers. Necessity however is
the mother of invention. Boxer had learned quickly and well over the past two
years. He had maxed out the response increase on his cyberdeck
and ran it hot on pure DNI.
Frag the
keyboard, and other null-gain interfaces. He had BECOME his deck, almost like
rigging. His new Icon was a matte black stealth fighter almost a pure “Hopeless
Diamond,” shape. He would push the Excaliber’s speed
advantage to the edge, and zip in and out of LTG’s,
system access nodes, and even the