Logic Bomb

[Darth Abyss]

Nar Shaddaa, Abyss Hideout

It wasn't like Darth Abyss was illiterate when it came to technology, but while he possessed some basic understanding of the topic, the finer details had always been a bit beyond him. In his time with the One Sith Intelligence, first as a member and later as a leader, he picked up a lot of information about the encryption and decryption of data and communications, but neither he nor those that worked for him ever reached real mastery over the methods and technology behind it. They had done well enough, but with money and influence came options and Abyss was man that rarely settled for less than the best possible solution.

That was why he had tasked his Inner Eye, elite remnants of the One Sith with backgrounds in intelligence work, to find him a slicer that would be able to bring his operation to the next level in anything regarding the digital realm. The dark ages were long gone by, and a criminal organisation that intended to rise to power needed more than just soldiers and smugglers. It needed a set of eyes that could look into enemy activity without standing up from a chair, while making sure that no one did the same to them.

Their research brought up a name, or rather a handle if he had to guess, much like the pseudonym "Prophet" that he used for all things regarding his underworld activity. Phoenix, a mythological creature which was immortal, time and time reborn in a cleansing flame. It was an interesting piece of symbolism, which the sith lord found to be highly intriguing. Non of his men, no one on his payroll, not even his most far reaching contacts had been able to give him a face to go along with the name. Normally that would be bad, but for a notorious slicer it was a clear sign for a job well done.

Yet he never hired someone without a test of competence. On one of the various anonym message boards in the depths of the cryptnet he left a simple post, published without any further information.

"Phoenix, I have an offer, a very well paid offer. Find me, and the job is yours."

He didn't meant find in a physical way, he simply wanted this "Phoenix" to trace his position, based on the little traces he left. His men had done their best to keep any traffic in and out of his bunker as heavily encrypted as they could, but if there was one thing he had learned in his time on top of a fairly powerful intelligence agency, then that no communication was untraceable.

[member="Jen"]

 

[Jen]

It had been some time since she had last dyed her hair, Jennifer realized as she was brushing her teeth. The hair by her scalp had grown out somewhat, a natural white centimeter striking a deep contrast to the rest of her black dyed haircut. Even the bangs had faded in color. That however, she didn’t realize in the dim lighting of the bathroom she was standing in, the music from her living room blasting throughout her small apartment. She stopped her morning ritual (who are you to talk about circadian rhythms) to inspect her hair upon noticing, greeting the centimeter with the feeling of mild annoyance. Dyeing was a pain in the ass. Furthermore, it costed credits, a thing she did not have much of these days. With a groan, she let a hand run through her greasy, tangled mess of a hairdo and stared at the reflection of the cracked mirror.

She would not have believed that what stared back was herself, had it not been for the fact that she felt just as poodooty as she looked. Smeared eyeliner surrounded her eyes and covered up the dark circles that could be found under, a sign of sleep deprivation. She had also lost weight over the past many months, making her cheekbones a more apparent feature of her face than usual. Nevertheless, it was not all bad, she mused. At least she had a roof over her head. Turning away from the cracked mirror of the bathroom, she walked into the only other room of her apartment, dodging the deactivated shell of what formerly could have been classified as a guard droid, its components now salvaged for the large computer that she was on her way towards. Numerous screens were lit, irritatingly bright in contrast to the darkened room they were placed in.

Upon reaching the large table the computer stood on, Jennifer slowly sat down in a chair by the table. A tired sigh escaping over her lips as she was seated, the sound suppressed, along with the constant hum of cooling liquids in the computer, by the booming music that played from speakers in the corners of her room. She glanced between the screens and after brief consideration snatched a pair of round sunglasses from the surface of the table, putting them on as she turned the volume to the music up a notch.

It did not take a long time before she encountered the mysterious message left on the anonymous message board. However, no real information about the offer at hand was written and because of that, Jennifer pushed the idea aside, not wanting to waste time on what could potentially be a troll trying to mess with her.

Hours later, after having finished various daily tasks, the browser with the displayed message could still be seen at the edge of the screen and with the prospects of having little to nothing to do for the next many hours, Jennifer decided to give the challenge a try. After rooting up all user information and getting access to the meta-data the website had about the post in question, Jennifer began the real work. It took a lot of fiddling around with the data at hand, but after a couple of hours she finally had gotten the encrypted hashes that when decrypted would – at the very least – give her the users planet location. Still illuminated entirely by the screens of her computer, she pressed a single button on the keyboard in front of her.

A couple of hundred meters away in a dark and quite cold basement, several high-end servers would start to hum in unison as their collective processing power began decrypting the data she had found… Hopefully, this dude didn’t need the exact router location. That was just too much work for no credits, Jennifer mused as she leant back in her chair, turning on her favorite Huttflix drama series.


[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

"My lord, there is still no reaction."

The man, wearing a combination of a dark cloak and the uniform of a one sith officer, looked at the screen with clear confusion, a team of similarly clothed men standing behind him with equally puzzled expressions. They all had some experience, but none of them had any clue if and how a slicer would be able to find them with what little they had left. The words pulled Abyss out of his meditative trance, in which he had spend the last few hours, patiently waiting for any sign from Phoenix. His yellow eyes jumped open, looking at his men, and a very slight grin on his face. He wasn't overly talented with tech, but he had other skills due to being in tune with the force, and that allowed him to somewhat predict what was happening on the other side of the screen. Not that he could say what exactly this Phoenix was doing, and neither was he any wiser about the slicers identity, but he could feel an metaphorical eye looking for him, hopefully that of phoenix.

"Have a bit more faith in my judgement. Phoenix is already on to us."

Slowly the dark, cloaked figure rose from the ground, stepping towards the terminal that his men were working on. His words didn't do much, besides leaving them even more confused, but in the time they all had spend in his employ they had learned that the strange decisions the sith lord sometimes made turned out to be right far more often than not. The man that woke him up left the chair in front of the display, allowing Abyss to sit. Like before he posted a message, again completely anonym:

"Well done Phoenix. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed. Contact me."

Attached was a link that would lead her to a chat room, password protected. Once opened it would prompt anyone entering to enter a password, with the word "Location?" written above it, and it would only unlock once the user wrote "Nar Shaddaa". It was a gamble, he had no idea if Phoenix had truly found him. Hours of deep trance had given him barley any information, but that was the game. He had to look like he already knew her every move, or else his reputation would break apart very soon. The only small safety he had was that it was not often that he misinterpreted the bits of information he had.

Once someone would enter the chat, they would see one other user also online, using the pseudonym "Prophet." Abyss waited for a reaction, silently watching the screen in front of him.



[member="Jen"]

 

[Jen]

[member="Darth Abyss"]



The episode of the chosen Huttflix series was almost done by the time another message from the anonymous (potential) employer popped onto the page of the message board Jennifer had browsed earlier that day.

With a frown, she read the message. After finishing it, she suddenly forgot about the last minutes of the Huttflix episode that still ran on one of the many monitors in her room. How could this person know she was digging into his request? In an almost paranoid state, she started searching and scanning her setup for any potential sign of a slice, the slighest of ways he could possibly have gotten the hint of her search.

However, after almost an hour of profusely swearing and sweating she leant back in her chair with a heavy sigh. It had to have been a lucky coincidence. What else could it have been?

Determined to be able to access the linked chatroom, Jennifer checked the progress her machines had made on deconstructing the traces the employer had left behind. She kept check on them for another hour as they finished and provided their results, eager to get to chat with whomever this person was.

Large portions of the data had been corrupted, but the data had still -as expected- provided a planet. Nar Shaddaa. Hesitantly, she adjusted her seat by her monitors, typing in the planets name. Hoping she had completed the puzzle.

> ...

> ...

> Phoenix:

 

[Darth Abyss]

After another hour of silent mediation, Abyss was pulled out of trance by a single bleep made by the terminal close by, the moment another person entered the chat. The faces of his men showed the same mix of confusion and amazement the normally had when the sith lord was right with something that seemed absolute illogical by any common standards. He rose to his feet and once more took place on the terminal.

>Prophet: I see my faith in you was not out of place. I am impressed Phoenix.

Any word from here had to be carefully considered. Phoenix was clearly a person that placed a high priority on secrecy, just like Abyss himself, and he knew how quickly he was to react if that secrecy was threatened. Beyond that, he or she seemed more than component in this field of expertise, so it was important to crate a friendly, and professional work relationship right from the start

>Prophet: As I said already, I have contacted you to make you an offer. I work for an organization called the Tainted Chorus, and we have taken an interest in bringing your skills to good use. State your price.

When he said state your price, he meant state your price. Money was not an issue for him, he had so much by now that he could not spend it faster than he was making it. The lack of information of what phoenix actual job would be was another test, simply to see if the slicer would refuse to do something without it. In fact he expected phoenix to be cautious, if not than the person would be unfit to work with him. What he needed were allies that could do their job without his lead, that had the strength to do things their own way.

[member="Jen"]

 

[Jen]

It took a good amount of time before Jennifer responded to the messages this “Prophet” had send her. From the murky surroundings of her room, her face and hands lit only by the glow of the monitors in front of her she carefully considered what the person had wrote. However, after only a few minutes (and after grabbing a soda from the fridge) she decided that while it was likely that this illustrious person was not just another regular client, she could still pretend so. And with that in mind she send out an automated message.

> Phoenix: Hire price depends widely on the task at hand and the pace of completion that is desired. All given prices may vary depending on multiple factors. Keep in mind I do not write exploits for rich script kiddies. And I will personally fry your setup if I discover you are one.
etc. etc. For a more detailed pricelist, return message with: when completion of project is desired, full explanation of project and desired end-results.

After pasting the pricings Jennifer looked at it for a minute before deciding leaning back in her chair. Whoever this representant of this so called "Tainted Chorus" were was not a concern to her. She had worked with groups or people that went under fancy monikers before and never had her clients undergo a morale test. What was important was how her time was spend. Sitting at the keyboard, waiting anxiously for a reply, she decided to add to her message.

> Phoenix: ^.^


[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

> Prophet: I think you misunderstand Phoenix. The Chorus wishes to work out a long term agreement with you. We do not expect you to work for us full time, but we desire to employ your service for extended periods of them when the need arises. State your price, money is not an issue."

Money really wasn't an issue. Malachor had surprisingly made him rich, gave him enough wealth to employ many people below him, buy everything he could ever need from the open and black market and still have far to much left to spend in the next few years. But what he offered her wasn't just money. Many in the galaxy were rich, but Abyss and the Chorus had something else that could be interesting for a person like the slicer he meant to hire.

> Prophet: We offer more than just money. Our eyes and ears are everywhere, and so are our shields and swords. As a member of the Chorus you will be protected, no matter which forces could come for you.

Her normal line of defense was clearly secrecy but that wouldn't be of much help in case that the violent hordes of the sith ever found a way to whatever world she lived on. The Chorus had sleeper agents somewhere around any major system and in a few more, and in case of an emergency they could either defend the slicer or at least extract her so she was out of harms way.

[member="Jen"]