Enigma Iuda
Script Kiddie
Now, I like to consider myself a connoisseur of all things tech. You give me a cogitator that is as infested with viruses as a Hutts hardest to reach crevice and I will give you back that thing spick and span, you toss me a network so jumbled that the big bosses mistress pics are getting sent to the PR team, I will get that thing running so fast that you’d think that someone had jacked an A-wing engine to the server.
But give me a needle? Sutures? A god damned hammer and anvil? The best you’re getting then is a mess.
Finishing the final piece on his message, he sent it across to the private server he kept on Denon, content that if he did end up dying here, at least his genius would be recorded, albeit amongst an encryption that would take the majority of the rest of Darkwire working together to crack.
Or maybe Hacks will just read it as a eulogy, who knows.
But he wasn’t here representing his usual criminal underties, no, this was something altogether more dangerous for the Slicer. It wasn’t often that he played well with others but when it came to the Protectorate, he was willing to keep his mouth shut for once. Seeing what they were capable was enough for him to keep an eye on them and then seeing the scope of the network they were putting together was enough for him to get involved.
And while I never thought I’d see the day where I was coming to someone else for a tune up, the hardware these guys are handling puts my works to shame.
Walking to the appointed lab, he looked at one of his masks in his hand, the spare ready to replace the one he wore on his face. It would be the first time he had met these particular members of the Protectorate but he was feeling extremely excited. One thing that a Slicer knew the value of was networking, both the social and datapad kind. He had put in a brief request for a diagnostic on what sort of systems he would be using in regards to having the same standard of gear between his usual kit and the Protectorates and had almost immediately sent another request at having the groups top minds take a look at what he was working with.
And while I never thought I’d see the day where I was coming to someone else for a tune up, the hardware these guys are handling puts my works to shame.
Reaching the door to the lab, he took a quick review of himself, all his familiar attire missing. Normally he wore a variety of underground sub-culture fashions, spiked vests, graffiti covered tops and a multitude of tech gear hanging from chains around his neck and wrists but now, he wore just a simple black hooded tunic and matching pants.
It almost made his mask look out of place, a reflection of the rebellion and anarchy that was the soul of its wearer.
But for how long?
But give me a needle? Sutures? A god damned hammer and anvil? The best you’re getting then is a mess.
Finishing the final piece on his message, he sent it across to the private server he kept on Denon, content that if he did end up dying here, at least his genius would be recorded, albeit amongst an encryption that would take the majority of the rest of Darkwire working together to crack.
Or maybe Hacks will just read it as a eulogy, who knows.
But he wasn’t here representing his usual criminal underties, no, this was something altogether more dangerous for the Slicer. It wasn’t often that he played well with others but when it came to the Protectorate, he was willing to keep his mouth shut for once. Seeing what they were capable was enough for him to keep an eye on them and then seeing the scope of the network they were putting together was enough for him to get involved.
And while I never thought I’d see the day where I was coming to someone else for a tune up, the hardware these guys are handling puts my works to shame.
Walking to the appointed lab, he looked at one of his masks in his hand, the spare ready to replace the one he wore on his face. It would be the first time he had met these particular members of the Protectorate but he was feeling extremely excited. One thing that a Slicer knew the value of was networking, both the social and datapad kind. He had put in a brief request for a diagnostic on what sort of systems he would be using in regards to having the same standard of gear between his usual kit and the Protectorates and had almost immediately sent another request at having the groups top minds take a look at what he was working with.
And while I never thought I’d see the day where I was coming to someone else for a tune up, the hardware these guys are handling puts my works to shame.
Reaching the door to the lab, he took a quick review of himself, all his familiar attire missing. Normally he wore a variety of underground sub-culture fashions, spiked vests, graffiti covered tops and a multitude of tech gear hanging from chains around his neck and wrists but now, he wore just a simple black hooded tunic and matching pants.
It almost made his mask look out of place, a reflection of the rebellion and anarchy that was the soul of its wearer.
But for how long?
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