[6E] Dome Sweet Home IC

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« on: (11:46:54/10-15-19) »
[Early Evening, Monday November 13th, 2079; Downfall, Redmond, Seattle Metroplex]
The Downfall was nice, at least by the available standards of Redmond.  He’d done some research on the way here and it seemed like as good a place as any to collect his thoughts, although now he was beginning to regret his decision to come at all.  The clientele were the usual eclectic mix of street toughs and SINless just trying to scrape by after whatever crap job their limited status afforded them.  But there was also some Talent here, and from the curious glances he’d received when he came in he knew they’d seen the dim spark that was in him too.
The air wasn’t too laden with nic or stale alcohol and piss and the music was loud enough to drown out casual conversation but not make your ears bleed!
Watcher nursed his drink musing at the water still pooling off his cuffs from the soaking he’d taken getting to Redmond from his ratty apartment all the way over in Puyallup.  He ruefully reflected that he was getting jaded, a bit of rain had never bothered him much but he would once have made more of an effort to stay dry at least.  He’d removed his damp gloves and his metallic right cyber hand tapped an unconscious rhythm on the faded table top as he considered the message from his daughter again.
> Hi Dad, hope you’re ok?  Sorry haven’t got time to talk, maybe next week?  Tom’s in trouble, possibly big trouble, I’ve seen it coming.  I know you don’t see eye to eye and if I could I would be there myself to stop you two fighting, but I can’t…some things are even more important than family.  He won’t want your help, he’s too damn stubborn, but I know you will want to do something.
> Lace
He sighed, damn it Beth, Silkie, Lace, whatever she was calling herself these days…  He’d tried, he really had.  But Beth was right, Tom blamed him for the death of their mother and the wound was fresh even after all these years.  He’d gone to where Tom had holed up with his tribe, had tried to speak to his son… and had been turned away.  But he knew that Beth wouldn’t have sent him there without good cause, so a new plan was needed…
Time to recruit some outside assistance.  With what he wasn’t sure but there were runners that would help a cause for more than just nuyen.  He’d briefly pondered trying to recruit some himself, possibly even at a bar like this one, but it was too random, he didn’t know this part of town any more (too many painful memories) and he didn’t want to end up on the wrong end of some street razor’s grudge.  So that meant squeezing his limited funds further and getting hold of a fixer to set him up with a team.  Thankfully Feather owed him one and it might be time to check in that marker…
Excel Cha Generators <<CG5.26>> & << CG6.01 DRAFT >>


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« Reply #1 on: (14:34:30/10-15-19) »
[Early Morning, Monday November 13th, 2079; Enumclaw, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex]
The little apartment wasn't much, but the lock on the door was strong and the electrical grid only rarely suffered from blackouts; aside from the omnipresent hum of heavy industry in the area, the wireless signal to noise ratio was better than any of the other places he would have been able to afford.

Viktor was seated at the large workbench in the middle of the room, the internals of a Shiawase Cyber-6 laid out before him and surrounded by spare parts and various junk. He adjusted the overhead lamp to provide better light for the task at hand, and gingerly slipped the tiny optical relay into place. Despite being mostly broken and in pieces the deck had cost him most of his savings, and that was even after the trade-in on his old model.

"The circuits are good, but she needs a little TLC before she'll purr like a kitten." Max, one of Viktor's corporate contacts at Shiawase, had been adamant that the deck was worth it even in it's present condition. "If anyone can fix 'er up it's you, and I'll give you a real nice discount. Chip truth!" Thinking back on that conversation, Viktor realized he should have picked up on the somewhat obvious attempt at placation an flattery, but the temptation had just been too great. Instead, he had thrown caution to the wind and now all of his hopes and dreams rested on the pieces of plastic and metal arrayed in front of him.

He sighed deeply, then set to work reassembling the miniaturized cyberdeck. Everything fit onto a slot no larger than a couple of credsticks, and within a few hours he had everything neatly wrapped up. The circuit tester chirrped happily when he applied it to the optical connection port, indicating that the procedure had gone well.

"Only one way to find out," Viktor thought as he slid the deck into the receptacle in the back of his head. A barely perceptible *click* announced that the connection had seated firmly, and the dwarf subconsciously moved his hand over the implant location before steeling himself for the next crucial part. He couldn't afford the hospital stay if this didn't work, and the deck going critical inside his skull would be the least of his long-term issues. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his favourite chair.

"This is it. All or nothing, chummer"

With a thought he bridged the neural interface between his cyberjack and the new deck lodged firmly inside his skull. For several nano-seconds nothing seemed to happen; his stomach began to sink, when all of a sudden the Matrix rushed out of nowhere and wrapped his consciousness in digital code.

Clad in the blackened armor of a modern samurai, his persona rose from a smoke cloud into the Emerald City host.

[i}]"Time to see what this baby can do..."[/I]

[Early Evening, Monday November 13th, 2079; Enumclaw, Auburn, Seattle Metroplex]

Hours had passed and the Cyber-6 has handled every test he'd thrown at it. Viktor had sliced through the Matrix for hours, and he couldn't have been happier.

The notification that someone was at his door had brought him back to reality, and he checked the video feed from the tiny MCT Gnat positioned in the corner of the hallway leading up to his apartment.

"Ah, delivery!" he exclaimed. He had completely forgotten that he'd placed a McHugh's order, but now that he was reminded of it he realized he was starving.

Jacking out of the Matrix brought the familiar sense of loss with it, and it took a few tries before he managed to get out of his chair.

He plodded to the door after grabbing his commlink, and was instantly reminded of how low his funds were. "Drek. I should have gone and picked it up myself" he muttered to himself as he opened the door.

After ensuring his note about no soy had been adhered to he settled up, and shook his head at the mere ¥195 left in his account. Back in the apartment with a plate of chick pea falafel neatly organized on a tray in front of him, he began cataloging local events and news stories in the hope that he could find some work.

« Last Edit: (22:08:08/10-15-19) by ZeroSum »