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/tg/ - Traditional Games


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Seattle, 2073. Handbasket still in motion.
You’re a hacker, a cyberbrain, a digital shadow. You took to the shadows in your second year of college, when your virtual exploits attracted the wrong kind of corporate attention. It took two months and too many favors to get the corps off your back, your SIN out of the database and a serviceable replacement attached to you. You tried going back to normal for a while, but you weren’t normal anymore, and normal life would never make sense again. Who would have picked a Matrix Science major as an adrenaline junkie?

It’s been three years since then and you’re still in the game. Armed with a powerful commlink, a suite of bleeding-edge software and a dangerously bright mind, your skills are for sale to the highest bidder. Your brilliant mind and vengeful attitude are masked by an extremely boring face, but that only makes your job easier. The Sixth World may forget your real name, but your Matrix handle will be written in history.

You are Echo_TRACER, and you’re a hacker. It’s time to get to work.

((Basic rules: There will be a ten minute voting period between posts. Rolls will be request on occasion, in which case the first three will be counted and the best of them considered. Feel free to include write-in details with votes and they'll be included to the best of my ability))

(Continued)
>>
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>>30331773
As far as nightclubs go, Night Queen holds a special place in your heart. The synthahol specials, trance music and dance floor are as generic as they come, and the music is forgettable on a good night. But every club had a trademark, and Night Queen’s was that it kept its membership RFIDs in cards instead of implants. A smart runner would call it a respect for privacy. You called it a sense of style.

The generic technosynth and bright lights assault your senses the instant you step inside. The air is thick with ambient crowd noise and body heat, and your vision clogged by AR spam. You push aside a cluster of AR ads and social profiles and navigate past the gyrating dancers. No one gives you a second look. You’re dressed down tonight: jeans and a jacket, AR contacts instead of display goggles, a very boring-looking profile for anyone who cares to take a look.

Once you’re beyond the dance floor, you have line-of-sight on the bar. An AR tag with the name of your fixer is stationary beyond the bobbing tags of the clubbers. Jabir called you away from an evening of watching bad kung-fu trids over a couple of beers because he had gotten you a job. Work from Jabir was always more complicated than it looked, but you needed the money and the cred more than the R&R. Your usual drinking partner would have to forgive you.

>If Jabir has something to say, he can say it to your face. Take a seat at the bar.
>Keep it virtual and make a commcall. Despite what he thinks, you don’t need to drink with Jabir to work with him.
>>
>>30331833
>Keep it virtual and make a commcall. Despite what he thinks, you don’t need to drink with Jabir to work with him.
Don't forget the encryption.
>>
>>30331833
Jabir’s worked with you long enough to know that talking in person isn’t your style. You open up your commlink’s program list in your display and start running Encryption. You lean against the wall next to a salaryman awkwardly talking to thinly-dressed elf girl who looked young enough to be his daughter and put in a commcall to Jabir. From your vantage point, you can see him looking around for you from his seat at the bar. After another moment, the call connects and a window opens near the center of your display.

“I wish you’d be more friendly, Echo.” Jabir’s icon looks almost exactly like him, a broad-shouldered Arab man with wrap-around sunglasses his hair dyed neon-red.

“You called me away from a bad night with a good friend, Jabir.” You whisper, subvocal mic catching every word. “This had better be good.”

“It is, my friend. No worries. Some contacted me with some work that I think is right up your alley.

>This isn’t the first time work that was “right up your alley” turned out to be bunk. You’re going to need an incentive before you ever listen to him.
>Even if he throws you work sometimes, you’re not exactly Jabir’s favorite person in the world. You’re not in a position to make demands.
>Other (Write-in)
>>
>>30332464
>Other
"Just because it's 'right up my alley' doesn't mean that there aren't strings, or in the case of that last run you gave me, literal spider webbing, attached. So, you got any assurances?"
>>
>>30332464
>>30332582
>Oh dear god, the typos in the last post means it's time to slow the fuck down.

>Also, writing.
>>
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>>30332691
With one hand, you move Jabir’s call window out to the left. The other massages your temples in frustration.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I need the work.” You grumble. “But I’ve known you long to know that just because a job is ‘right up my alley’ doesn’t mean there aren’t strings attached. Or maybe you don’t remember the last run you gave me. You said there was a spider on-site, I didn’t think you meant literally.”

“Come on, mistakes happen.” Your blood boils as Jabir lets out a hearty laugh. “This one’s all good. No nasty surprises, I promise.”

“Your promises aren’t worth a can of that crappy Chinese beer you like. I need an assurance that you’re not fucking me on this one.” Jabir is silent for a moment.

“Fine.” He sighs. “The Johnson gave me a file with a little preliminary information when they asked after you. Yes, they asked for you specifically. I still have the chip with the file on it, if you want.”

“That’s not gonna be enough.”

“Fine, fine.” His avatar holds up his hands defensively. “I did a little detective work on your Johnson, just to make sure I wasn’t getting you in over your head. At least you’ll know what you’re getting into, yeah? It’s not like you have to accept right here and now, right?”

>Let Jabir send the files over. With any luck, you’ll get through the entire evening without actually seeing him.
>Walk up and let Jabir give it to you personally. You don’t want to risk the info getting compromised between you and him.
>Other (Write-in)
>>
>>30333085
>>Walk up and let Jabir give it to you personally. You don’t want to risk the info getting compromised between you and him.
>>
>>30331773
>so many interesting quests, so little time

You are doing God's work, OP.
>>
>>30333085
>I’ve known you long to know that...

This is absurd. How many times am I gonna have to proof these posts before I notice when I'm missing words?
>>
>>30333172
>Writing, and proofing the writing, like, four times. Also, following this post, voting time starts counting down after the first vote.
>>
>>30333205
keep proofing

>Walk up and let Jabir give it to you personally. You don’t want to risk the info getting compromised between you and him.
>>
>>30333336

Sensitive data needs to stay of the air. I don't know how high our other skills are as a runner but it sounds like we are doing one man runs. Pistols will be our secondary weapon.

Did we ever finish that Computer Science Degree?

>Walk up and let Jabir give it to you personally. You don’t want to risk the info getting compromised between you and him.
>>
>>30333141
>>30333336
>>30333630
You hang up on Jabir, grinning to yourself as you imagine him in a panic. Personal requests and specific information means that he already accepted the job, as well as the brokerage fee, on your behalf. You straighten up and lightly nudge the stuttering salaryman, startling him and sending him jumping at the girl he was failing to hit on.

You walk to the bar with a swagger in your step and give a nod to the tattoo-faced Chinese man serving Jabir another drink. The Arab’s fur-trimmed coat and oversized sunglasses are as much of an eyesore as ever.

“Good evening, Jabir.” You smirk and take a seat next to him.

“If you were here, you should have said something.” He angrily grabs the now-full pint glass and drinks half of it in a few gulps. You can’t help but grimace.

“The last time I met you personally for a job offer, an orc with ‘Momma’ tattooed on his arm punched me in the ribs.” One thing you can say about Jabir, meeting him was rarely boring.

“That’s the problem with you, Echo. You never learn to let go.” Jabir slumps his shoulders and puts a chip no larger than a fingernail onto the bar. “Here you go. That’s the file I got from the Johnson. Happy?”

“No, but it’s a start. What about what you managed to dig up about them?” Jabir reaches into his sleeve and holds a folded-up piece of electronic paper in front of you. A quick scan tells you that its wireless capabilities have been disabled. You take it out of his hands and put in your pocket. “So, when am I meeting the boss?”

“Tomorrow at noon, at the restaurant on top of the Bellevue Hilton.”

(cont.)
>>
>>30333817

Most of the job details should be on the chip. Any rumors on boss.

> Any special info on our client?
>>
>>30333817
“Bellevue?” You suppress a groan. Without the right credentials, or a very good fake, just getting into Bellevue unmolested was going to be a chore. “Well, not a lot I can do about that. Good seeing you again, Jabir. I’m sure you’ll know if I take the job.”

“Peace be upon you, omae.” Jabir roughly claps you on your shoulder and sends you on your way. You had about fourteen hours until the meet, which meant no time to hang around the club. You decide against skirting around the dancing revelers and make a beeline for the back door. You nearly make it to the door when you feel a pair of slender arms clinch around your waist.

“Caught you!” Her voice is sweet like honey, and the smell of perfume peeks through even over the stench of stale sweat and cheap booze. You reach behind yourself to try and push her off, but she ducks her head under your arm moves in front of you. She’s nearly a head shorter than you. Her long hair is dyed neon pink, and tied off into two long tails. A pair of cyberears modded to look like a cat’s peek out from her hair. Obviously biosculpted, she has the face of a schoolgirl and the body of a stripper. “I missed you, Trace.” The sensation of her rubbing her cheek against your neck is nearly enough to make you dizzy. You’re not sure how you started dating her, but it’ll be hard if you ever decide to stop.

“You know how it goes, Summer. Money doesn’t grow on trees.” You keep your cool and hungrily eye the exit.

>Bring her home. It’s not like you can’t do work with your girlfriend around.
>Business before pleasure. Tell your chick to hit the bricks.
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>30333630
Under your real name, no. Be thankful for online courses and virtual classrooms.

>>30333977
This time around, you can be fairly certain that Jabir gave you whatever he knows.
>>
>>30334262
>Other
"I got a high-priority consulting gig fall into my lap right now, Summer, but once this consultation is over, I'll take you out to wherever you want, WITHIN reason. That sound okay?"

May as well be nice to our girlfriend.
>>
>>30334262
>Bring her home. It’s not like you can’t do work with your girlfriend around.

What special skills does she have, Null? What is her profession? I'm just saying, a bio sculpted hottie with tailored pheromones is way likelier to get into a swanky hotel than Trace's grungy ass.
>>
>>30334262

What do we know about Summer.
Is she a runner?

>Bring her home. It’s not like you can’t do work with your girlfriend around.

We haven't had time to read the chip yet. It better not be around our waist.

>Take her back to the car jam that chip into a reader and have it scanned on the way back.
>>
>>30334262
>>Business before pleasure. Tell your chick to hit the bricks.
>>
>>30334367
>>30334477
>Leave her be.

>>30334381
>>30334468
>Take her home.

Next vote decides
>>
>>30334595
In cases like this you might want to roll a d2.
>>
Rolled 2

>>30334595
>>30334672
Noted.

>>30334381
>>30334468
Summer's no runner. She's pretty good at manipulating people, though. She's a pretty good dancer, an okay driver, and a fantastic rumormonger. If something passes through the club scene, she hears about it first.
>>
Rolled 2

>>30334762
>Take her home wins. Also, writing.
>>
>>30334762
Okay so a contact. Still mega handy.

Trace clearly likes this girl. Lets play this right.
>>
>>30334262
The first thing you thought about Summer was that whatever Nip asshole started the stupid “Ero-Kawaii” catgirl fad that informed her whole persona could die in a fire. The second thing was she was sexy as hell, even if she only hung around you for to get at the kind of Nuyen runners walked around with. Your friends told she was poison the first time they met her, and they’re probably right. At the very least, you know that responding to her means that you won’t be getting rid of her tonight. You sigh and curse yourself before taking off your jacket and putting it over her shoulders. She might not mind walking around in a bikini top and denim shorts, but you feel guilty every time you bring her to your place looking like that.

“Hope you don’t mind if I do a little work on the way back.” You drape your arm around her shoulder and lead her through the back door.

“It’s always work with you.” She pouts and steps in closer. It’s a short walk to the parking complex where you parked. You start up the beat-up Mercury Comet you’re borrowing from your neighbor and set your apartment building’s coordinates into the Gridlink system. When the car takes off, you take Jabir’s data chip from your pocket and slot it into your spare commlink. No sense putting potentially-infected software into your work-link. A quick once-over from a (hacked) Analyze program shows that it’s clean.

Summer prattles on about the usual small-talk stuff while you read through the information Jabir got from the Johnson. From the looks of things, the job was an extraction of a specific drive currently being held in the Ares offices in Bellevue. The job interview out that way was starting to make a lot more sense.

(cont.)
>>
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>>30335074
Once the car gets home, you send your neighbor a message that you’re home from work, that you still can’t watch Trial of the Dragon VIII: Last Reckoning of a New Century of the Fist with him, and that Summer was over. You’re already at your door before he expresses his displeasure and disapproval.

It’s hard not to like your apartment. You have enough room for you and a guest, you’ve got an okay desk with a very nice chair, and you make enough from work that you can eat real food once in a while. Once you reach your bedroom, Summer leaps onto the bed, leaving your jacket on the floor. You fight against giving her a look and sit on the chair. You had about thirteen hours left until the meet, and getting into Bellevue would require some preparation.

>Spoof your credentials at the security checkpoint. You only need to get by there before you’re home free.
>Attach a corporate job to one of your SINs. If they think you’re on your way to work, they probably won’t bother you.
>Try to throw together a smuggling job with what time you have. They can’t catch you if they can’t see you.

(Taking a fifteen minute break for dinner. I'll probably speed up once I've got some food in me)
>>
>>30335454

>Attach a corporate job to one of your SINs. If they think you’re on your way to work, they probably won’t bother you.

>How's our disguise skill?
>>
>>30335454
>>Attach a corporate job to one of your SINs. If they think you’re on your way to work, they probably won’t bother you.
>>
>>30335454
>Attach a corporate job to one of your SINs. If they think you’re on your way to work, they probably won’t bother you.

No back up?
>>
>>30335492
>>30335525

this
>>
Back. The wonders a few potatoes slathered in butter and salt and a rich, bloody piece of meat will do for a person.

>>30335492
>>30335525
>>30335630

>Writing.

Echo's not great at disguises, but he's better at impersonations. He's got a boring enough face that he can usually go unnoticed without much effort, though.
>>
>>30335956
You flex your fingers fire up a half dozen display windows. The Ares Seattle SIN registry was kept in their Data Processing Office, which thankfully checked in with the DPO in Ares C&C over in Detroit. One well-placed script and you could pass one of your fake SINs off as a legit Ares SIN. You didn’t have time to really make it stick. At most, whenever your SIN was checked, the registry would spit back that you are, in fact a real person and belong there. Any routine security audit would expose the script, but that wasn’t going to happen before noon tomorrow.

You grab a fiber optic cable from your desk and use it to connect your commlink (your hacking commlink, that is) to your datajack. You suppress a gasp as the commlink’s sim module syncs with your sensorium. You’re not dropping into VR yet, but the calibration process brings a rush of data straight into your brain. You can feel your pulse quicken, your mouth water. You missed this. You needed this. Display windows pop up and vanish at a mile a minute as your commlink connects to the Ares Seattle Data Processing Office. The long signal range of the DPO’s transmission equipment and your own satellite link meant you were in mutual signal range. Digitally, you were as close as you could be.

Your commlink connected to an external services machine. You knew network infrastructure well enough to know that this chokepoint was probably the only thing separating you from a security computer with access to the SIN registry.

>Go at it from AR. It’ll be fast, it’ll probably be dirty, and you have a backup plan if it fails.
>Go Cold Sim VR. You don’t need your edge before the run even starts. It’ll take a couple of hours, but you’ll probably get in undetected.
>Go Hot Sim VR. You’ve been waiting for this. Anything worth doing is worth doing as hard as you possibly can, balls to the wall.
>>
>>30336296
>Go Hot Sim VR. You’ve been waiting for this. Anything worth doing is worth doing as hard as you possibly can, balls to the wall.

yup, definetly the Null I know
>>
>>30336296
>Go Cold Sim VR. You don’t need your edge before the run even starts. It’ll take a couple of hours, but you’ll probably get in undetected.
Let's do this carefully; we may be an adrenaline junky but we're also smart enough to know when to not push things.
>>
>>30336296
>>Go Cold Sim VR. You don’t need your edge before the run even starts. It’ll take a couple of hours, but you’ll probably get in undetected.
>>
>>30336432
>>30336467
>Writing
>>
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>>30336296
You rise from your chair, cushy as it is, and plot down onto the bed. Summer is quick to snake her arms around your and push her face against your neck.

“Done working already?” she coos softly.

“Just getting started.” You pat her head and gently scratch her behind the ears. You were finally properly awake. Everything you saw looked sharper and more vivid. The sound of your own breathing created a rhythm of a primal music forgotten but by your own genetic code. Summer’s touch was like electricity. “I’m going under for a few hours. Keep watch over my body, okay?” Breaking into an SIN registry was too big a hack to risk devoting system resources to your own security. Standard operating procedure was to never dive full VR without a buddy spotting you.

“Roger.” Summer give a mock salute and a quick peck on the cheek. “Have fun at work.”
You thumb the switch on your Sim Module over to Cold Sim. Things would be a bit slower, but you wouldn’t risk getting fried. It would also give you a chance to test out a new toy. Inside of your commlink’s case, right next to the response chip, was a tiny array of microprocessors that optimized the simsense channels between the sim module and your brain. The simsense accelerator was an early birthday gift, acquired with the bonus pay from that job gone spidery. If this thing performs the way it needs to, you’ll never claim it wasn’t worth it again.

(cont.)
>>
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>>30336799
A quick mental command submerges you into the Matrix the way it was meant to be experienced. Your commlink was sculpted to be a sea of data, an infinite blue abyss connected by pathways of numbers. Where the sun should have sat in the sky, a massive orb formed of swirling numbers and crystals took its place. Your icon resembled a modern-day wizard from a bad trid: a high-collared overcoat covered in buckles and a face shaded by wavy grey hair. You knew that single, golden eye was visible beneath the shadow. You weren’t a weak human with a clingy girlfriend no name you could be proud of. You were Echo_TRACER. You were the strongest.

Your favorite part of a hack was when you determined your initial program load-out. Sybil, your Analyze program of choice was first, followed by your Browse and Encrypt software. DeadMask, the Stealth program was next, along with Babylon, your skeleton key. The final key was MyWorld, a Reality Filter. Every one of these hacked programs was specially optimized to reduce resource drain. With your limited hand, you could improvise as you saw fit.

You rode the connection to the Data Processing Office External Services Machine. The network chokepoint’s public area resembled a heavily-defended warp-gate from a sci-fi trid, IC resembling armored space-marines stood like statues. The glowing runes that DeadMask traced across your coat let you know that you remained unseen. Everything before now was the easy part. Now it was time for the hack.

>Go for user access. You didn’t plan on staying in the ESM long enough to need to the others.
>Go for security access. You might be able to spoof your credentials on another machine connected to this one.
>Go for admin access. You want to violate this machine.
>>
>>30336799
Simsense accelerator boosts cold sim speeds to match hot sim. And Hotsim even further.

You did get the Customized interface and Response Enhancers? Every little bit helps.
>>
>>30337177
God. Nineteen minutes just to write one post. I need to pirate a Mavis Beacon game or something.
>>
>>30337177
>Go for security access. You might be able to spoof your credentials on another machine connected to this one.
>>
>>30337210
you type this shit out before hand, dammit.

>Go for user access. You didn’t plan on staying in the ESM long enough to need to the others.
>>
>>30337189
Echo's got both, though his Response Enhancer isn't the best out there. Upgrading that as far as it'll go is his next major benchmark now that he's got the Accelerator
>>
>>30337177
>Go for security access. You might be able to spoof your credentials on another machine connected to this one.
>>
>>30337177

>Go for security access. You might be able to spoof your credentials on another machine connected to this one.

Let's not be too greedy.
>>
>>30337252
>>30337304
>>30337307
>Writing.
>>
>>30337177
As you step towards the EMS’s warp-gate, MyWorld changes and warps it into the same blue abyss as your own commlink, the path ahead blocked metal slab surrounded by swirls of digital dissolve. The IC become winged things of pixelated white fire and shining metal. You open your hand and Babylon manifests as a series of scarlet short swords. You extend a hand and target the gate, and the swords bury themselves in the crystal storm. It would take a while to find the security hole you needed to get in.

In the meantime, you let Sybil analyze it and fired up a Scan program. The last thing you needed were any undue surprises. You take a moment to give praise to whoever invented ergonomic programs. It looked like there were a few honeypots waiting in the ESM, but nothing that you were in any danger of stumbling into. You were more concerned with the IC. Every second that you stayed here was another chance for their security script to wrap back around to scanning you. You needed to get in quick.

>Roll 1d20+5
>>
Rolled 17 + 5

>>30337556
>>
Rolled 10 + 5

>>30337556
>>
Rolled 2 + 5

>>30337556
>>
>>30337652
>>30337667
>>30337681

Writing
>>
>>30337556
It takes two grueling hours to hack yourself security access to the ESM. Once you’ve done it, the digital dissolve surrounding the gate evaporates and the metal door rises into the sky. You hold your breath, waiting for an alarm to sound, but one never does. You smile to yourself and step inside.

MyWorld codes the inside of the ESM as an inverted, crumbling city. Cathedrals and gothic towers extend downwards towards you, and the virtual sun shines below. Some may call your tastes grandiose, but let them never call them stagnant. The External Services Machine connects to a number of security computers inside of the office. Every connection that goes from a machine inside of the building to one outside passes through the ESM. From here, you could get access to one of the security hubs and make this network your bitch.

>Check the access log and see if you could find an access code to the security machine. You’ll take a bit of time and the IC might catch you, but it’ll save time in the long run.
>Press onwards inside. The IC won’t follow you into the next node without an external command.
>Take a minute to make yourself an access route into this machine, in case you need to crack it in the future (Can be done in addition to another command)
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>30337998
>Take a minute to make yourself an access route into this machine, in case you need to crack it in the future
>Check the access log and see if you could find an access code to the security machine. You’ll take a bit of time and the IC might catch you, but it’ll save time in the long run.
>>
>>30337998
>>Press onwards inside. The IC won’t follow you into the next node without an external command.
>>Take a minute to make yourself an access route into this machine, in case you need to crack it in the future (Can be done in addition to another command)
>>
>>30337998
>Check the access log and see if you could find an access code to the security machine. You’ll take a bit of time and the IC might catch you, but it’ll save time in the long run.

>Take a minute to make yourself an access route into this machine, in case you need to crack it in the future (Can be done in addition to another command)
>>
>>30338064
>>30338204
Writing.
>>
>>30338349
With a gesture, you put Babylon to work carving yourself a shortcut into the External Services Machine. So long as no one discovered it, you’d be able to get in completely undetected and penetrate deeper into the network without having to hack this node. While this goes on, you run a search for the ESM’s access log. In addition to deleting your own less-than-legitimate activities, you’d also have the chance to look at the account files. It was a longshot, but you might find something that hints at a passcode.

The access log appears as a slab of crystal in your hand. Names and numbers scroll by; access IDs and moments of connection and disconnection. Naturally, your own actions have appeared as raw data, not yet put into the security log. A little tampering from the Repaint edit program fixes that.

Wait… What the- From the looks of it, there are a bunch of logged actions without an account tied to them. Hold on. There’s a backdoor already here. And from the looks of things, it’s coming from deeper inside the network.

>Your lucky day. See where this rabbit hole goes.
>It’s a trap. Cut your losses and do this the long way.
>Other (write-in)
>>
>>30338480
>coming from

Leads. God dammit. Leads deeper inside the network. First quest jitters are a killer.
>>
>>30338480
>It’s a trap. Cut your losses and do this the long way.
Even if it's not a honeypot trap by the sysadmins here, it could be a backdoor made by another runner.
It'd be impolite to mess up another person's run (if we're not being paid for it), and we shouldn't waste time and stealth on a fight we don't need.
>>
>>30338480
>>It’s a trap. Cut your losses and do this the long way.
>>
>>30338480
>It’s a trap. Cut your losses and do this the long way.
>>
>>30338518
>>30338571
>>30338592
>Writing
>>
>>30338737
nooo faggots... see how deep this shit goes
>>
>>30338737
Someone once told you that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. At best, you’d be using another runner’s exploit and probably getting them caught. At worst, you’d falling straight into a honeypot with a spider waiting to trace you back to your apartment. The traffic you saw in the access log has given you a good idea of where to go next. There’s a security node with a wired connection to the ESM, and if you crack that, you’ve got free access to the registry.

You ride the connection over the security terminal. From the outside, it looks like an array of metal spires connected by silver wires. The IC here are clockwork birds with wings made of glittering filament. This node is sure to have higher security than the previous one, but your clock has shown that you’ve spent two hours in this system already.

>Get security access. You’ve used enough time as it is and the longer you stay, the greater your chance of getting discovered.
>Get admin access. You don’t want to risk screwing this up. It’s time to go for broke.
>>
>>30338809
>Get security access. You’ve used enough time as it is and the longer you stay, the greater your chance of getting discovered.
>>
>>30338809
>Get admin access. You don’t want to risk screwing this up. It’s time to go for broke.

Come on, guys, ACTION LINES
>>
>>30338809
>>Get security access. You’ve used enough time as it is and the longer you stay, the greater your chance of getting discovered.
>>
>>30338828
>>30338960
>Writing
>>
>>30339070
Smart hackers didn’t waste their time getting admin access on systems they only needed to hack once. Spending another hour just to get access to something you didn’t need was not just a waste of time, it was potentially suicidal. With a mental command, the Babylon swords embed themselves in the spires. Windows full of lines of code appear around you. The IC haven’t responded yet, but you know that they’ll be more aggressive this time.

Thankfully, your security access to the External Services Machine grants you a little extra insight into this security hub. Whatever connection exists between the two is something you might be able to exploit.

>Roll 1d20+10
>>
Rolled 14 + 10

>>30339137
>>
Rolled 2 + 10

>>30339137
>>
Rolled 5 + 10

>>30339137
>>
Rolled 18 + 10

>>30339137
>>
Rolled 13

>>30339174
Okay. Because this node is better protected, the IC get a roll to detect you. Let's see how that goes.

>Also, writing.
>>
Rolled 9

>>30339137
You’re starting to sweat. The IC are swirling around you, each hummingbird-like beak ending in an array of lenses. They flit about your head and torso, examining and Analyzing you every couple of minutes. Sooner or later, this security sweep was going to get you.

Not today, though.

Two hours later, and your mental fortitude is starting to wane. But Sybil hasn’t detected an active trace yet and your actions are hidden behind too many layers of obfuscation and redundant background data to look like anything suspicious. The IC has already started growing suspicious when the Babylon swords return to you. The towers descend into ground and your access is assured for the time being. If there’s a spider on staff, he’s either away or waiting for the IC to alert him of an intrusion.

From here, you can see the map of every machine connected to this security hub, including the SIN registry. You can go in from here, plant the script tailored to legitimize your running SIN and erase any evidence of your tampering. After that, getting into Bellevue was a no-brainer.

>Do it now. You’ve spent four hours in this network already. An actual metahuman is going to do a security sweep at some point and you don’t want to be here when it happens.
>Make a backdoor here, too. If you ever need to hack the SIN registry to get into Bellevue again, it’ll only take a few minutes. Of course, the IC will get another chance to detect you.
>>
>>30339614
>was a no-brainer

I meant "would be." God, the types are coming back. I'm glad I'm almost done with the material planned for tonight's thread.
>>
>>30339614
>>Do it now. You’ve spent four hours in this network already. An actual metahuman is going to do a security sweep at some point and you don’t want to be here when it happens.
>>
>>30339614
>Make a backdoor here, too. If you ever need to hack the SIN registry to get into Bellevue again, it’ll only take a few minutes. Of course, the IC will get another chance to detect you.
I know it's risky, but getting easy access to Bellevue is not to be underestimated.
>>
>>30339676
>Make a backdoor here, too. If you ever need to hack the SIN registry to get into Bellevue again, it’ll only take a few minutes. Of course, the IC will get another chance to detect you.

What order do we have to do this in?
>>
>>30339614
>>Do it now. You’ve spent four hours in this network already. An actual metahuman is going to do a security sweep at some point and you don’t want to be here when it happens.

Besdies, given that we've gone 4 hours without detection, in the event we need to do this again, we have an idea of when is a good time to strike and just how good security is as a whole.
>>
>>30339781
You can put the script in place with little more than a thought. In game terms, it will take one of Echo's four Matrix IPs, while making a backdoor will take at least a minute. It doesn't really matter, but if you prefer, you can set up the script first.

Captcha: Armed irmission

Armed IR Mission sounds like an amazing name for something, either a band, an album or a song.
>>
>>30339847
then I redouble my vote for the backdoor
>>
Rolled 2

>>30339733
>>30339789
>1. Slot and run

>>30339758
>>30339781
>2. Make the backdoor
>>
Rolled 15

>>30339983

Okay. Let's see what the IC has to say about that.
>>
>>30340031
Looks like the IC has taken exception to our visit.
>>
Rolled 9

>>30339847
You know what you need to do. You use your access to the security hub to open up the SIN registry. You swiftly copy the script from your commlink into the registry’s confirmation system, adding a few extra lines to the registry’s agent that will cause it to automatically pass your work SIN. You sigh with relief and pull up the access log. You erase any evidence of your tampering and prepare to depart.

Now that you think of it, gaining access to the Ares Seattle SIN registry on a regular basis would give you the freedom to expand your business into Bellevue proper. Higher-paying clients and more glamorous work would put you a few places higher on the ladder, and you might finally be powerful enough for Jabir to stop fucking with you. All it would take would be a few extra minutes to make a backdoor here.

You set up Babylon to start on the hack job. What are a few extra minutes to get a little extra cred in the hacker underground? While you work, the IC continue to impotently scan you. It’s too late, you think. You’ve already done what you came to do, you think. All of this is just icing on the ca-

The DeadMask runes on your coat fizzle. The IC’s lenses are focused directly on you. You see Babylon complete your backdoor just in time for the alarm to trigger. The IC begin swarming around, and you see an aperture open in the sky. A heavily-armored knight carrying an enormous sword floats slowly downward.

“Attention, unregistered user.” The spider’s voice booms. “You are in violation of both UCAS and Ares Macrotechnology Law regarding trespassing and cyberterrorism. You will be detained and your connection traced.”

The script is in place and it’s time to get out. The access log is still open next to you, and you have just enough time to edit out opening a backdoor into the system before the spider points his word towards you. Your jaw clenches as you prepare for battle.

(cont.)
>>
>>30331773
Hacker?

Chummer, I think you mean Decker. The fuck's a Hacker?
>>
>>30340497
my god, who gave gramps the metalink? hacker has been street slang since the 2060s.
>>
>>30340655
Could just be a hipster trying to be all retro.
>>
>>30340724
I come from the future where You need a cyberdeck because GOD tightened the fuck out of the net security.

GODspeed chummers, you've got two years left.
>>
Rolled 2

>>30340409
The connection cuts out, and your head explodes with pain. You feel like you’re falling through an endless abyss. A horrible, synthesized buzz of static fills your ears at a nearly-unbearable volume. You’re dying. You’re dying. This is Hell. You can’t breathe.

You inhale deeply. Air fills your lungs. The light of your apartment burns your eyes. The sound of your own gasping breath is painful.

“Deep breaths, Trace.” Summer whispers into your ear. “Come on, you can do it.” Over the next few minutes, your breath becomes steadier. Your hands unclench and your headache starts to subside.

“Holy shit.” You say to yourself. “I thought I was caught for sure.”

“I know.” Summer holds up your commlink, still connected to your head by a cable. It’s already been switched off. “The status-update thingy said you were being traced, so I turned it off. Do I do go-“ Your arms are already around her before she can finish. You squeeze Summer tight against you. “Umm… Trace? Are you okay?” You’re laughing, you realize. You’re laughing at your own arrogance at trying to overextend yourself, and your own brilliance for bringing a spotter.

“I’m gonna be fine.” You say. “I’m gonna be just fine. You saved my ass in there.”

“You’re welcome. So, done with work for the night?”

“Looks like it. I know when my luck’s running out.”

After another few minutes, Summer goes to take a shower. More often than not, that means she’s spending the night. You’ve got about nine hours before the Johnson meet, and a lot of sleep to catch up with. You’re already dozing by the time Summer’s out of the shower.
>>
And that's all for tonight, folks. I figure seven hours is a pretty good benchmark for my first quest. The next episode of Shadowrun Hacker Quest will be on Friday around 18:00 EST. I'll still be around for the next hour or so, so feel free to give me the post-mortem feedback or just discuss amongst yourselves.
>>
>>30340964
Can we get a list of contacts, equipment, and resources?
>>
>>30340964
Ill feedback you tomorrow. Let me know where you feel like doing lunch
>>
>>30341005
I'll make a pastebin with his character sheet at some point. For the time being, this is pretty good indication of what he has.

Echo_TRACER's Contacts
>Jabir. Fixer. His jobs are never simple, but always pay plenty. He likes fur coats, expensive jewelry and crappy Chinese beer.
>Summer. Club-hopper. Echo's girlfriend. A biosculpted catgirl way into the "Ero-Kawaii" fad that's faded in Japan just in time for it to go nova in the UCAS.
>Neurophage. Another hacker. Echo's never met him in the flesh, but they frequent the same warez nodes.
>Sergei. An ID forger. A Russian antique-collector with a penchant for very old books.
>Logan. Security guard. Echo's neighbor and best friend. He knows a thing or two about physical security, and would be more than willing to give intel so long as his security company isn't protecting the mark.

Echo_TRACER's Equipment
One (1) high-grade modified commlink (Equipped with a hot-sim modified sim-module, simsense accelerator, response-enhancer, customized interface, satellite link, and all common-use and hacking programs)
One (1) civilian-use commlink (Equipeed with a standard sim-module, all common-use programs. Usually slaved to the customized commlink)
AR gloves, image link (in goggles, sunglasses or contacts depending on the situation), sound linked earbuds.
A radio signal scanner
A tag eraser
An autopicker
A medkit

An armored jacket
A rebreather mask

A Colt Government 2066
An Ares Light Fire 70
A stun baton
A pair of shock gloves

A Mitsuhama Fly-Spy drone for air-recon.

His car's a secret. He's somewhat ashamed of it.

A series of overly-expensive runs have left him with only about three thousand nuyen to his name.

Cyberware
A datajack
A rating 2 Encephalon

Likely positive qualities
Analytical Mind
Blandness
Codeslinger (probing the target)

Likely negative qualities
Mild Simsense addition
Dependant (Summer gets irritable and clingy if Echo ignores her for too long)
>>
Also, the thread's been archived.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/30331773/
>>
>>30341595
I know that it's been mentioned that we created a 'clean' SIN for ourselves; are the guns registered and licensed to one of our SIN's?
>>
>>30341664
Right. Knew I was forgetting something. We have two fake SINs. One of them is purely civilian and is never used for anything illegal. The other, naturally, is our running SIN. Both have personal defense and concealed carry licenses, but our 2066 is only registered to our civilian SIN. Jabir gets us unregistered weapons when we need to commit crimes.
>>
>>30341738
>but our 2066 is only registered to our civilian SIN
Okay, good to know to only carry but never use the 2066.


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