Amea Virou
Snowbound
The life of a datashard was always one of the more interesting stories. When compared to most other things that were lost when people moved it was more often than not one of the most looked over items on whichever checklist the occupants at the time had in their minds. Sometimes they were lost in some forgotten corner that never got cleaned out, and sometimes between the cushions of a couch left behind due to space concerns, but whatever the reason had been, that was not the case for this particular datashard.
A clean up crew had arrived at the scene of a particularly gruesome massacre. Crimson flecks and dried up pools of blood were scattered across the walls and floors. Given the stench it had been evident that this very room had gone untouched for at least a few days. Shock and horror lingered in the eyes of the victims that had violently flatlined during whatever event had transpired here. As the days passed and more and more ‘evidence’ was lost to the solar winds, the crew would slowly find more and more items that they could sneak with them and peddle off for a nifty bonus on the side. One such item was a very tiny shard in a very easily overlooked corner of the room. At first it had been stuck in a form of helmet-looking device, but once detached was easily pocketed.
In either a stroke of genius or dumb luck the cleaner had peddled this particular item off to a black market salesman figuring the shard to contain some form of information on whatever organization had been behind this slaughter. While that was very much not the case, this was the lifecycle that it went through for over a few months. From one peddler to the next, one cyberpunk to the other, attempts at deciphering the contents remained seemingly impossible.
That was, until someone finally caught the small crack in the code from which a single thread was pulled back to reveal something far bigger than anyone had expected: it was not just a memory stick, it was quite literally the imprinted memories of someone. It was by all accounts a human being in raw data form. The revelation shot like a bolt of lightning through the Coruscant underground and once the owner of the memories had been revealed, the offers began to pour in.
But not all who heard of it were interested in paying the full sum. Whether by yet another stroke of dumb luck or skill the shard would end up in the possession of one ‘Andro Fern’. Together with his friends as well as a network of underground hackers, Andro had managed to retrieve not just what they thought to be the body of their goddess but an intact copy of her memories, a complete collection of her being without any awareness or the repercussions it would have on her.
A few months passed as the assets shifted around to hide their trace...
“Subject secured aboard the Aurora. Heart rate…Stable but dropping. Dank farrik, I wasn’t made for this.” A groan rumbled from the man’s throat before he began to dig through a nearby pile of cables and electronics in a hurry. “Go to med school, become a doctor. Forget all this slicing stuff…” His voice mocked with frustration before he pulled out a wire with a triumphant grin. “And miss out on something like this? Not a chance, mother.”
“Andro, for force’s sake. You know you could just NOT say these things out loud, right?” An impatient voice called from across the room behind a screen. “Just makes you seem crazier than you actually are.”
“I could, but I ain’t gonna.” Andro called back and flashed her a grin much to the woman’s annoyance. Her eyes rolled for a moment before she set her attention on the computer screen again.
“You are sure it’s her?” A third voice chimed in. “Like, for sure sure? Body dysmorph-”
“You don’t forget your goddess’ face, Erich.” The half-crazed Andro called back and approached the blonde woman floating in the nearby tank. “I spent years trying to find her ever since she left without a word. And now here she is.”
“Make it sound like she’s your ex or something.” The woman muttered.
“I wish! That honor was all Locke’s.” The man scoffed and approached the woman’s workstation with the memory shard in hand.
“And you are sure it’s even intact?” She asked and grabbed the datachip between her index finger and thumb.
“Have some faith, Glitch.” Andro responded with a pat on her back.
“We have no reason not to.” Erich muttered. “For that kind of price they would have been suicidal not to have checked its integrity first.”
“Alright, fine.” Glitch relented and put the chip into her terminal. “And once we wake her up after the procedure, what exactly do you expect will happen?”
Andro looked over at Erich for a moment before they both looked back at Glitch without another word.
“Do not tell me you never got that far.” She groaned. “Whatever, it’s your creds down the drain.”
“Mhm, now proceed. Please.” Andro said and slowly leaned in over the terminal to look over at his pet project. “We have a god to awaken.”
A clean up crew had arrived at the scene of a particularly gruesome massacre. Crimson flecks and dried up pools of blood were scattered across the walls and floors. Given the stench it had been evident that this very room had gone untouched for at least a few days. Shock and horror lingered in the eyes of the victims that had violently flatlined during whatever event had transpired here. As the days passed and more and more ‘evidence’ was lost to the solar winds, the crew would slowly find more and more items that they could sneak with them and peddle off for a nifty bonus on the side. One such item was a very tiny shard in a very easily overlooked corner of the room. At first it had been stuck in a form of helmet-looking device, but once detached was easily pocketed.
In either a stroke of genius or dumb luck the cleaner had peddled this particular item off to a black market salesman figuring the shard to contain some form of information on whatever organization had been behind this slaughter. While that was very much not the case, this was the lifecycle that it went through for over a few months. From one peddler to the next, one cyberpunk to the other, attempts at deciphering the contents remained seemingly impossible.
That was, until someone finally caught the small crack in the code from which a single thread was pulled back to reveal something far bigger than anyone had expected: it was not just a memory stick, it was quite literally the imprinted memories of someone. It was by all accounts a human being in raw data form. The revelation shot like a bolt of lightning through the Coruscant underground and once the owner of the memories had been revealed, the offers began to pour in.
But not all who heard of it were interested in paying the full sum. Whether by yet another stroke of dumb luck or skill the shard would end up in the possession of one ‘Andro Fern’. Together with his friends as well as a network of underground hackers, Andro had managed to retrieve not just what they thought to be the body of their goddess but an intact copy of her memories, a complete collection of her being without any awareness or the repercussions it would have on her.
A few months passed as the assets shifted around to hide their trace...
“Subject secured aboard the Aurora. Heart rate…Stable but dropping. Dank farrik, I wasn’t made for this.” A groan rumbled from the man’s throat before he began to dig through a nearby pile of cables and electronics in a hurry. “Go to med school, become a doctor. Forget all this slicing stuff…” His voice mocked with frustration before he pulled out a wire with a triumphant grin. “And miss out on something like this? Not a chance, mother.”
“Andro, for force’s sake. You know you could just NOT say these things out loud, right?” An impatient voice called from across the room behind a screen. “Just makes you seem crazier than you actually are.”
“I could, but I ain’t gonna.” Andro called back and flashed her a grin much to the woman’s annoyance. Her eyes rolled for a moment before she set her attention on the computer screen again.
“You are sure it’s her?” A third voice chimed in. “Like, for sure sure? Body dysmorph-”
“You don’t forget your goddess’ face, Erich.” The half-crazed Andro called back and approached the blonde woman floating in the nearby tank. “I spent years trying to find her ever since she left without a word. And now here she is.”
“Make it sound like she’s your ex or something.” The woman muttered.
“I wish! That honor was all Locke’s.” The man scoffed and approached the woman’s workstation with the memory shard in hand.
“And you are sure it’s even intact?” She asked and grabbed the datachip between her index finger and thumb.
“Have some faith, Glitch.” Andro responded with a pat on her back.
“We have no reason not to.” Erich muttered. “For that kind of price they would have been suicidal not to have checked its integrity first.”
“Alright, fine.” Glitch relented and put the chip into her terminal. “And once we wake her up after the procedure, what exactly do you expect will happen?”
Andro looked over at Erich for a moment before they both looked back at Glitch without another word.
“Do not tell me you never got that far.” She groaned. “Whatever, it’s your creds down the drain.”
“Mhm, now proceed. Please.” Andro said and slowly leaned in over the terminal to look over at his pet project. “We have a god to awaken.”
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