Private Cyberspace Overdrive

[Hacks]

Count Zero
Refugee Sector, Nar Shaddaa

The club was busy, Denonite synthwave thumped and dancers moved to the beat. An ecstasy hung in the air that Hacks had no interest in partaking in tonight. Mechanical fingers rubbed plastic eyes that didn't feel tired, but her mind felt worn. The life she lived was wearing her down, more enemies than friends, addictions burning a hole through her soul. While she brought a drink to her lips her lower arms typed out a message to Johnny Diamonds.

Hacks: Hey Johnny, come Count Zero. Got a job.

Hacks scanned the club for unwanted attention, then reached under the booths table and ignited the privacy screen. Golden yellow energy burst from a projector and enveloped the booth in a dome. The energy barrier was weak enough that individuals could simply walk through, and blasters could shred through the condensed energy particles like shooting flimsiplast, but it provided a level of discretion that other systems couldn't. Onlookers could not peer into the screen, nor could they listen to what was going on within the dome.

The slicer lowered her drink onto the table and brought up a portable keypad onto her knees and began to type with inhuman speed, twenty fingers working in a rhythm as she established holographic parameters. The holoprojector on the ceiling lowered and began to project blue-glowing data down onto the table and images of a freighter. An image of Saro Nakaioma hovered beside a logo of the Nakaioma corporation.

The operation was simple when you described it to the layman. Hit the Tanaka Shipping & Logistics network systems, divert a shipping route for a transport freighter. Rob them blind. What the layman didn't understand was the level of net security the Nakaioma Corporation ran. Employee Gene-Lock, NIC-864 counter-intrusion programs, Mil-Tec Tōkai BioHexacrypt Encryptions, and a small battalion of Security Technicians.

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

~sniff sniff snshhhhp!~​

Holy karking feth! The Ryll began to slam him like he was going mano y mano with the Mandalore himself! Johnny was having himself the time of his damn life. After all, why the hell shouldn't he? Life was short, people got snuffed out in the Refugee Sector every minute, and you never knew when you were about to get flat-lined. If he wasn't gonna spend all his time locked away in his fething mausoleum of an apartment, then he sure as hell wasn't gonna play it all super-cautious all the flipping time. the dancer that he had done a couple bumps of Ryllspice with dragged him back out onto the dancer floor, and they began dancing with the rest of the the neon colored dregs out there as the lights blinked and strobed, the bass from the industrial synthwave playing reverberating through their very cores.

It was a form of degenerate extacy coupled with the chase of the next high combined with a devil-may-care attitude all rolled into one. Johnnyboy was on fire, that's for fething sure.

And then, just as the beat dropped, his hip began vibrating. You have got to be karking screwing with me. Now? he thought. He pulled back from the zeltron dancer he was cutting a rug with, and winked, sliding out into the recesses of the darker areas by the vending machines that lined the wall nearest the entrance to Count Zero. There, he pulled his netdeck out, and slid his finger over the release mechanism, a tiny l.e.d. flashing as the biometric scan took. Sliding it open, he tapped finger to glasteel, pulling up the CryptNet secure message server.

Hacks: Hey Johnny, come Count Zero. Got a job.

Johnny had to crack a smile, and actually laughed out loud. Not that anyone would hear him specifically among all the music, the dancing, the thump of the machinery within and along the walls. Shaking his head, he activated the scan mode of his cybernetic left eye, searching. After a while, he noted that while she didn't appear to be inside the club, one of the privacy sheaths had been activated at a far end booth. Figures. Smart, as it were. Making his way over to the booth, he took a drink idly from a passing twi-lek hostess, feth if he knew what was in it. On he kept, until he poked his head through the sheath, looking for all the world like a disembodied head.

"You rang, choomba?"

With a bit of a giggle, he slid himself the rest of the way through the sheath, and sat down opposite Hacks, taking a swig of whatever swill he had ended up grabbing off the serving tray. "Hmm. Fruity, yet... satisfying. How's tricks, chicadee?"

Hacks​

 

[Hacks]

A moment later a disembodied head appeared through the energy barrier, Johnnys eyes found hers as he chirped, "You rang, choomba?" Hacks stared up for a moment, surprised by the quick response, she had assumed she had more time to continue setting up the presentation.

"That was quick," she quietly murmured, eyes cast down as she stared at a keypad held in her hands. The device looked childishly small in her four hands, fingers typing with inhuman speed. Lines of inverted code projected onto her datagoggles. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Johnny slide into the booth and bring a drink to his lips, "Hmm. Fruity, yet... satisfying. How's tricks, chicadee?"

Hacks offered a solitary shrug and a slight tilt of her head in silent reply. The thunderous synthwave in the club was unable to penetrate the shield, leaving the booth to grow uncomfortably quiet bar the patter of mechanical fingers typing on her pad.

Then she stopped, shoulders relaxed and she slid further into her leather seat. "That fifty-fifty job you wanted?" she reminded him, then waved a hand to the projector where the holographic spreadsheet on Nakaioma floated. "No fixers or clients, I set this job up, it works and I'll consider us working together properly."

She held out an open palm for him to speak, "Tell me what you see."

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

​

Johnny was rolling right now, cloud 9 plus. It was a dreamy deal, but somehow, the sudden silence brought on by the privacy shield was definitely a buzz-kill. Eh, truth be told, he oughta just calm his narrow behind down. After their last face to face in meatspace, well, he was surprised he didn't have a whole jug of beer being hurled at his braincase this time. Then again, he didn't exactly threaten to put a slug in her head this time. So He supposed for now, things were alright. For now. Keyword: Now. Later was an entirely different story. Johnny was garbbed in his normal gear, the hood of his coat down, bunched up against the back of his neck. He put a hand through his messy, dirty blonde hair, tilting his head to the side, a few cracks and pops emanating from the vertebrae. Looking to the projected holo-images, he polished off whatever the feth was in that glass, setting it down on the table in front of him.

"I was already here when you messaged. I needed some...eh, doesn't matter..." he said, trailing off again. Truth be told, he was kind of afraid anything he might say would set the four-armed netrunner off. He really wanted to avoid that, as he actually really liked her. She was a decent sort, and he'd hoped they'd be able to get off on the right foot this time. He hoped.

Examining plans and such closely, the lights glinted off his synthetic left eye, that turquoise twinkle giving him an almost whimsical look. Pulling a small, silver hued packet from the inner pocket of his jacket, he pulled a cigarra from it. Sage, this time. Nothing hard, no, he was already riding that wave, though the wave was coming ashore, so to speak. Using a small, chromium cased lighter, he lit the tip and took a drag, pouring over the info Hacks had laid out.

"No fixers or clients, I set this job up, it works and I'll consider us working together properly."

"Nakaioma. You want to hit a shipment of Nakaioma product? Sounds like an utterly gonk idea."

Exhaling the smoke, he looked up at Hacks, and genuinely smiled toward her. Why, even he had no idea, but there was some sort of respect he had for her, regardless of the last time they spoke. "I'm in." he said, his voice more even-toned, without the usual inflections of egotistical bravado he usually spoke with. "Nakaioma is preem gear." he said, tapping his left temple with his free hand.

 

[Hacks]

Johnny said, "Nakaioma. You want to hit a shipment of Nakaioma product? Sounds like an utterly gonk idea. I'm in. Nakaioma is preem gear." Hacks' eyes followed Johnnys hand as he tapped his temple.

She sat mute for a moment, that was easy, she thought. "Gonk, maybe, but fun," she commented. She raised a metal finger to the hologram and images blurred, shifted and appeared. "There's a shipment of Nakaioma implants leaving Empress Teta for Denon tonight. We slice into Tanaka Shipping and Logistics, flag the route with an emergency danger alert. Redirect the freighter to a holding station here on Nar Shaddaa. When they land, we take the cargo."

"But their security network is that preem shit, ain't the usual suits I hit and run, these guys know their stuff," Hacks warned, "We might get burned, but that's part of the game." She motioned to the shield around them, "We'll be operating from this booth. Count Zero is in on it, we'll be funnelling the goods through them and the girls behind the counter will move the goods into the invisible market."

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

thoughts | speech

​

The young Corellian netrunner took another drag of the cigarra, leaning back in the booth as Hacks went over the basic idea of how this was going to go down. When she mentioned the possibility of getting burned, Johnny's head seemed to tilt back, and he looked up at the ceiling as he exhaled a small cloud of that pale blue tinted smoke. Yeah, getting burned was always a possibility. In more ways than one, too. Guess that's part of what you'd call a calculated risk, eh? Either way, she had a pretty good plan. Count Zero was in on the whole shebang, with couriers and all, neatly set up in a row. This led Johnnyboy to think to himself Ok, well, she's got the booth set, the whole thing is ready to go, but you know, I wonder...

"...where exactly do I come into play, here? Seems to me like I'm not exactly mish-critical here, from the sound of it."

His head rose back up from the booth's backing cushion, and he looked to Hacks, the cigarra hanging loose from his lips. "Tanaka may know their chit, but you aren't exactly amateur hour, Hacks. So, you know, a guy's gotta wonder, dig?" he said, with a bit of hesitation in his voice. He wasn't scared, no, he was just waiting for the other implant to drop, so to speak. It's not like he got on her good side last time, and he felt like maybe he was headed down that same route again with her. Dammit, Johnny, why the kark do you care so much what the feth she thinks of you?! and he sighed lightly, cause in all truth, he really had no idea whatsoever. He just knew he did care, whatever the reason may be.

 

[Hacks]

Johnny chirped up, "Where exactly do I come into play, here? Seems to me like I'm not exactly mish-critical here, from the sound of it." Hacks was quick to remark, "You said it, not me," and opened her arms in a display of innocence. "Tanaka may know their chit, but you aren't exactly amateur hour, Hacks. So, you know, a guy's gotta wonder, dig?"

Hacks motioned to the table and the projection faltered, blue light shifting as images blurred. The face of Nakaioma changed to that of John Locke, CEO of Locke and Key Mechanics. "Nakaioma isn't the only target tonight," she announced, "We're also hitting Locke and Key at the same time, same task - redirect a cargo freighter moving from the Deep Core to the Inner Rim. Both company pilots are taking the same shipping lane, we flag both their ships, move them to the Moon."

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

As Hacks practically shot her reply out of her mouth at light speed, Johnny had to scoff as she held her arms open, at least, one set of them anyhow. She was basically confirming what he said, at least in his view. He guessed he sort deserved that, but still. Didn't have to be so open about it. As he leaned forward, he put his arms on the table, and sort of rest his jaw in his hands, watching as she motioned and swapped holo-images. After a moment or two, the vision of Nakaioma blurred into another face. One he knew well, not personally, but by reputation. Johnny had to blink a few times, and only when he realized his mouth was hanging agape did he look up to her, his own eyes, both biological and chrome, locked with her own plastic peepers.

"We're also hitting Locke and Key at the same time, same task - redirect a cargo freighter moving from the Deep Core to the Inner Rim. Both company pilots are taking the same shipping lane, we flag both their ships, move them to the Moon."

"Are you karking mad, Hacks?? Nakaioma I get, but you want us to hit Locke & Key at the same fething time?" he said, his voice laced with a sense of disbelief. "I retract my previous statement. There's no way in mustafar's lava pits that you are doing this without my help. And I'm not saying I'm some sort of super-slicer, but this is the kind of mish you'd need a whole team of netrunners to pull off." Johnny raised his hand, and slid two fingers onto the cigarra, taking a drag, before taking it from his lips and tapping it on the side of the ashtray in between them. It was then that a slightly devilish little grin began to form at the corners of his mouth. "But, then again, ain't anyone out there better than us. I'd bet solid-state creds on that. Locke's stock and two smoking Nakaiomas."

Yeah, his humor was hit or miss, but that's just how it was with Johnnyboy. Not like being a stand-up comic was his day job. He just played one on the holonet.

 

[Hacks]

"Are you karking mad, Hacks?? Nakaioma I get, but you want us to hit Locke & Key at the same fething time?" Johnny spat out, "I retract my previous statement. There's no way in mustafar's lava pits that you are doing this without my help. And I'm not saying I'm some sort of super-slicer, but this is the kind of mish you'd need a whole team of netrunners to pull off."

"What's John going to do? Come after me?" she laughed, clearly lacking any concept of the meaning the consequences of your own actions. "But, then again, ain't anyone out there better than us. I'd bet solid-state creds on that. Locke's stock and two smoking Nakaiomas." Hacks wagged a finger at him in delighted agreement, reaching into her pocket and taking out a small plasti bag, and a cigarra box. She laid them out onto the table and when she flipped the cigarra box open it contained no cigarra, only fresh needles.

"I'll shoot up then we'll get started," she said. Hacks wasn't just a mod-junkie, she was an adrenaline junkie. Synthetic spice that replicated adrenaline in the body, she often shot up before big jobs to give her mind an edge in the Net. On extended periods slicing code she would even automate the process with droids overseeing the injection as she lay under.

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

thoughts | speech

Johnny watched her closely as she pulled out the plasti-bag and the cigarra box. He really wasn't all the surprised when she did, he damn well knew she was hooked in, same as he was. Maybe not in the same compartment, but damn sure on the same train. Johnny was a fair few things, but his hypocrisy only went so far. As Hacks got herself set up for their little adventure into the 'net, Johnny pulled his messenger bag up from the floor at his feet, and plopped it on the cushion next to him.

He grabbed the main flap, and flipped it open, pulling out a large cylindrical object. Brushed durasteel, and dented in a few places, dull in some, shiny in others. Setting it on the table in front of him, he pulled the ashtray over, and set his own cigarra case next to it. Next, he pulled out his custom data-deck, and set it down in front of him. Now, granted, with the wireless connectivity of his ocular implant, he didn't need to hardwire to the data-deck, but if they really were going up against Locke and Nakaioma, a little extra reassurance wouldn't hurt. Pulling out a long, thin cable, he hooked it into the bottom of the data-deck, and then with the other end in hand, he slid it into a small port just behind his left ear.

"Had it hardwired to the ocular. Just in case." he said with a wink. Grabbing at the large cylinder in front of him, he unscrewed the top, and almost instantly, the smell of piping hot stimcaf wafted through the air. He took a sip, and gave out a little moan as he swallowed. "Mmmm, that's the stuff. Sometimes the simple things are all you really need, eh, chica?"

 

[Hacks]

As the spice settled in her veins, her body sunk deeper into the booth. Her transparent glasses crystalized, lines of code streamed across their display. She was connecting to her custom browser, SlaveNet. Anonymous surfing of the electronic highways, sponsored and funded by the Hutt Cartels.

Her mind reached out to Count Zero, establishing a connection to its security systems, her plastic eyes had gone distant, no longer focusing on meat space. When Johnny spoke, she watched him not from her eyes, but the camera feeds inside the club, "Had it hardwired to the ocular. Just in case," and then the barely perceptible wink seen from the smudged feed. "Mmmm, that's the stuff. Sometimes the simple things are all you really need, eh, chica?" he said, her face grew a smirk, when she spoke it was soft and distant, lost in the code, "Whatever. . floats. . . your . . . . . boat."

"Run this," she suddenly announced after a moments quiet, a data packet shot towards Johnnys connection. It was her Cerberus program, counter-intrusion software she had personally written. It could kill any rogue data jockeys, frying their cybernetics and datapads. It would run in the background, allowing them a sense of security and focus, not looking over their digital shoulders for any attackers trying to defend Nakaioma or Locke and Key.

Then her mind was far away from Count Zero, leaving a thread back to Johnny to communicate. In an instant she was in the Smuggler Moons communication port, slicing through rudimentary network defences and blazing through a thousand directories. As her body lay on the boots couch, looking almost corpse-like, her Aj brain implant whirred loudly with the activity, struggling to keep up with translating her thought, neural pathways firing, into the digital.

 

[Johnny Diamonds]

thoughts | speech | <digital>

"On it." he replied as he uploaded the data packet into his deck's secured partition. "Cerberus, eh? I've heard of this. Didn't realize this was one of yours." Tapping away like a mad man on the glasteel screen of his net-deck, Johnny ceased to exist in this moment in time. Here and now, in this realm of the baud and the byte, G3mCyph3r was the only name that mattered. Bio-eye was focused on that net-deck, his ocular implant flickering through different camera feeds same as Hacks.

<Secured connection to the CryptNet active on my end.> came through the wires, his speech was not speech at all, but manifesting as small messages directed at her brain implant. Easier to do this at the speed of thought, even if he was tapping away like a chattering womp rat hopped up on cane-spice. <Run this in tandem.> came through the wires next, and a data packet of his own came at Hacks quick. Sapphire Protocol, a program of his own design. Effectively made them invisible to anyone that did try to pin them down. The thinking here was that if they ran these programs in tandem, they would effectively be digital ghosts that were pure poison to anyone who could find them if they managed to even get that far.

He was in the net, blazing through the connections like lightning, leaving no tracks, no traces. Only Hacks could see his digital footprint, and that was just how he wanted it right now. Too much at stake to kark this all up.