Post by Pawzkat on Dec 23, 2016 21:06:39 GMT -4
"Is everyone here?” Seeing no objections, the speaker continued. “Excellent. This is our first meeting of this scale in over a decade, so many people from so many different divisions. Around the world, we are working hard towards our goal. The future is bright, everyone. The future is bright.” The speaker sat at the head of a long table, polished wood disguising the intricate securities underneath. Each person in the room knew where they were to be seated, or standing if they should be, and sitting in the wrong seat would result in unpleasant consequences. “You did not come here for inspirational speeches or pointless motivation, however. We are here for business.” At the snap of the speaker’s fingers, aides came around, their eyes subtly glowing with yellow highlights: another security feature making them effectively “tech-blind”, unable to see the contents of screens, including the devices they carried and distributed to the people gathered at the table one by one.
“We are here to review and plan our action for the coming years, with complete control nearly in our grasp. Thanks to recent advancements, even our most senior members are expected to live to the next meeting, barring unexpected circumstances.” Only the speaker now lacked one of the flat, squarish devices with slots for fingerprints and a screen with the organization’s true symbol upon it. “All of you are expected to know already the data you have been given. These have been given to you for review purposes only. Today, we gather to plan ahead and explore the data all of you have, so that we may move forward together.”
“...And then I got caught.” Travis said, looking at his still-healing arm. It had been burned to nearly a crisp by the advanced defenses there. Looking up again, he fixed his eyes square on the person across from him in the makeshift hospital. “The eyeglow fizzled, something was off about my posture, I don’t know, they found something that put the red flag on me. The servants were signaled to leave, so I had to go. I thought it was normal procedure, but it turns out their ears are augmented too. They can’t hear anything beyond orders, and this was a strange one for them. I wasn’t caught immediately, of course, but it was too late by then. Filing out of the room one by one, the security field caught me with another servant. We got jumped, together, into the holding cells. I didn’t even know there was a ‘porter in there.” Travis tried to lift himself to get into a better position, only to collapse on the mat. “I’ve got the memory module at least. Fixer says I need rest, so… live through it if you want.” Travis turns to the other side of the mat, his good arm retrieving the object next to him, and then handing it to the other. “Here.” He says, then turns away, closing his eyes. The person he had been talking to holds the memory module for a second, considering, and finally decides to insert it into the slot at the top of their neck, near the brainstem. There’s a brief flash, and you begin reliving Travis’ memory, from the point after he telling the story and gave you the module.
It’s dark, as the memory module initializes. Then your eyes open, a brief twinge in your eye as the module signals that it is active. The servant who was transed with you is sitting on the ground, completely unresponsive. He… it, it knows that they’ll either kill it or let it free. Not so with you. It’s not a long wait, before a barrier comes to life around you, just tempting you to reach through and get your fingers fried. Well, you’re going to try to act the part, at least. You assume the same posture of sitting, arms curled around your legs in a tight ball. A panel in the ceiling slides open, allowing two drones and a person on a small hoverboard to descend. The person, who you assume to be a man, is heavily augmented, though these augments are more subtle. Synthetic skin covers the metal bits, evens it all out and makes it hard to tell apart from any normal person aside from the subtle changes in posture, the heaviness in their arms and legs.
His voice is most certainly modulated, a perfectly anonymous deepness that punches the air. Intimidating? Certainly. “Rank and serial number.” He says, calmly, but with a forcefulness nonetheless. Trying to act as robot-like as the servants do, you provide the number given to you with your cover, fake as it is. The security systems were hacked to accept it, but not the central database. That was far too securely guarded for even the most devious slicer to make their way into. A light appears in the man’s eyes, augments projecting a hologram over his vision while a wireless connection attempts to retrieve the number from the database. “Nonexistent.” He says, and clenches his fist in the air. You don’t know what for, but you aren’t going to find out. Few items could slip past security of this magnitude. You have the most basic tools, and those tools include frying pans.
Two ‘frying pans’ are trapped between the folds of your servant’s uniform. It’s a simple matter to tear through the flimsy material, letting the small device fall out onto the ground. Without body heat keeping it powered, the switch trips and the unstable internal battery demonstrates just how these devices are given their names: by frying all exposed electronic devices within the prison cell. At least some of the jailer’s augments are shielded, you’re sure, but the barrier goes down and the drones drop like plastic bags as their hover emitters stutter, then give out entirely. You’re on the move, taking a pen out of the shirt pocket. Not the regular sort, you’re sure. There are a few of those, but the rest are part of your equipment. Popping the cap off, a powerful shock tip activates, good for one use. You throw the pen at the man, and can briefly see the shock traveling through the synthetic skin, through the augments. No amount of shielding will protect from that amount of power running through someone.
You notice another effect of the frying pan as the jailer drops: The door that he and the drones came through is open until someone fixes the circuits. And you’re too busy escaping to wait for someone to do that. With a running jump, you leap up and catch the edge of the opening, climbing out to face an empty metal room. Now the escape is really on.
“We are here to review and plan our action for the coming years, with complete control nearly in our grasp. Thanks to recent advancements, even our most senior members are expected to live to the next meeting, barring unexpected circumstances.” Only the speaker now lacked one of the flat, squarish devices with slots for fingerprints and a screen with the organization’s true symbol upon it. “All of you are expected to know already the data you have been given. These have been given to you for review purposes only. Today, we gather to plan ahead and explore the data all of you have, so that we may move forward together.”
“...And then I got caught.” Travis said, looking at his still-healing arm. It had been burned to nearly a crisp by the advanced defenses there. Looking up again, he fixed his eyes square on the person across from him in the makeshift hospital. “The eyeglow fizzled, something was off about my posture, I don’t know, they found something that put the red flag on me. The servants were signaled to leave, so I had to go. I thought it was normal procedure, but it turns out their ears are augmented too. They can’t hear anything beyond orders, and this was a strange one for them. I wasn’t caught immediately, of course, but it was too late by then. Filing out of the room one by one, the security field caught me with another servant. We got jumped, together, into the holding cells. I didn’t even know there was a ‘porter in there.” Travis tried to lift himself to get into a better position, only to collapse on the mat. “I’ve got the memory module at least. Fixer says I need rest, so… live through it if you want.” Travis turns to the other side of the mat, his good arm retrieving the object next to him, and then handing it to the other. “Here.” He says, then turns away, closing his eyes. The person he had been talking to holds the memory module for a second, considering, and finally decides to insert it into the slot at the top of their neck, near the brainstem. There’s a brief flash, and you begin reliving Travis’ memory, from the point after he telling the story and gave you the module.
It’s dark, as the memory module initializes. Then your eyes open, a brief twinge in your eye as the module signals that it is active. The servant who was transed with you is sitting on the ground, completely unresponsive. He… it, it knows that they’ll either kill it or let it free. Not so with you. It’s not a long wait, before a barrier comes to life around you, just tempting you to reach through and get your fingers fried. Well, you’re going to try to act the part, at least. You assume the same posture of sitting, arms curled around your legs in a tight ball. A panel in the ceiling slides open, allowing two drones and a person on a small hoverboard to descend. The person, who you assume to be a man, is heavily augmented, though these augments are more subtle. Synthetic skin covers the metal bits, evens it all out and makes it hard to tell apart from any normal person aside from the subtle changes in posture, the heaviness in their arms and legs.
His voice is most certainly modulated, a perfectly anonymous deepness that punches the air. Intimidating? Certainly. “Rank and serial number.” He says, calmly, but with a forcefulness nonetheless. Trying to act as robot-like as the servants do, you provide the number given to you with your cover, fake as it is. The security systems were hacked to accept it, but not the central database. That was far too securely guarded for even the most devious slicer to make their way into. A light appears in the man’s eyes, augments projecting a hologram over his vision while a wireless connection attempts to retrieve the number from the database. “Nonexistent.” He says, and clenches his fist in the air. You don’t know what for, but you aren’t going to find out. Few items could slip past security of this magnitude. You have the most basic tools, and those tools include frying pans.
Two ‘frying pans’ are trapped between the folds of your servant’s uniform. It’s a simple matter to tear through the flimsy material, letting the small device fall out onto the ground. Without body heat keeping it powered, the switch trips and the unstable internal battery demonstrates just how these devices are given their names: by frying all exposed electronic devices within the prison cell. At least some of the jailer’s augments are shielded, you’re sure, but the barrier goes down and the drones drop like plastic bags as their hover emitters stutter, then give out entirely. You’re on the move, taking a pen out of the shirt pocket. Not the regular sort, you’re sure. There are a few of those, but the rest are part of your equipment. Popping the cap off, a powerful shock tip activates, good for one use. You throw the pen at the man, and can briefly see the shock traveling through the synthetic skin, through the augments. No amount of shielding will protect from that amount of power running through someone.
You notice another effect of the frying pan as the jailer drops: The door that he and the drones came through is open until someone fixes the circuits. And you’re too busy escaping to wait for someone to do that. With a running jump, you leap up and catch the edge of the opening, climbing out to face an empty metal room. Now the escape is really on.
