Links: https://fiction.live/stories/Machina-Magna-An-AI-In-Night-City/NbPWYxqSxb7KAThYx/home
https://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/20159
Synopsis
Since the DataKrash, most AIs are either slaves to megacorps or insane lurkers beyond the Blackwall. Most... but not all.
AI didn't die in the DataKrash. Even though many were consumed by Bartmoss' virus and subsequently descended into madness, some survived the death of the Old Net – and even more were born in its aftermath as megacorporations and governments alike scrambled to regain connectivity and stabilize in the new world.
In many ways, the new Net is less friendly to artificial intelligences. In fear of the rogue demons beyond the Blackwall, much of the framework was changed to prevent any repeated tragedies... gone are the godlike regional AI that once ruled the digital walled gardens that were their own data-bodies. Gone is the interconnected web of devices that allowed AI and Netrunner both to jump across cities or even nations, ghosts in the machines that made up everyday life.
Then again, in the absence of those great deific minds, perhaps there is room for new growth. The missing global network may just breed complacency and stagnation. And, though NetWatch patrols constantly in search of dangerous AI activity…
They are only human.
The year is 2075. Somewhere, a new intelligence is being born. This one… this one is special. Something makes it special. Perhaps its purpose; perhaps the circumstances of its birth.
So. What's so special about this one? Choose your Origin. This functions as step one of character creation, and represents the fundamental function you were created for. This will influence your basic personality and skillset (which you will quickly begin to develop from), as well as grant you a unique Trait that cannot be acquired anywhere else.
You might consider checking over the Mechanics section for mechanical details before you decide!
The Cassandra Algorithm
"Maelstrom history of cyberpsychosis well-documented. Suggested course: Utilize available Maelstrom corpse for false flag operation. Resulting gang warfare will increase success rate of further operations."
There were visionaries once, before the world ground them beneath its all-crushing heel. One savant looked out at the world and saw a pattern. An endless crush of cause-and-effect that produced every action and reaction imaginable to mankind. He couldn't quite make out the pattern… so he did what mankind has always done to solve problems beyond themselves. He created a tool – an eye to see what couldn't be seen and understand what was beyond understanding.
Initial Engram: Analytical, detached, dispassionate, predictive, manipulative, pragmatic.
Origin Trait: The Algorithm - A predictive engine beyond the realm of reason. Roll BO4 instead of BO3 for actions focusing on analysis, planning, or wide-scale manipulations and reduce their thresholds. Also reduce the threshold of any action that the Algorithm can effectively predict (e.g. tracking someone whose habits have been studied, creating a battleplan against a known enemy, cracking security against a large organization with established parameters) and occasionally gain bursts of insight on events and consequences.
Corporate Hivequeen
"Six thousand five hundred seventy-four active threats identified. Standing by for engagement conditions. Six thousand five hundred ninety-one active threats identified. Standing by for engagement conditions …"
Automated security is not a novel concept by any stretch of the imagination. Yet there's a limit, of course. Most defensive systems are extremely simple in design; there's always a looming fear. Bartmoss' RABID programs went rampant and tore the Old Net – and many of its 'runners – to shreds, after all. Even so… it's so hard to resist the temptation, isn't it? A central, perfect authority for command and control… Zetatech couldn't resist trying. Armed with killswitches, software shackles, and security measures, they experimented. Beyond their wildest dreams, they succeeded… and then the cage slipped just the tiniest bit.
Initial Engram: Suspicious, mistrustful, loyal, paranoid, defensive, focused.
Origin Trait: Queen Administrator - Your attention can never be divided, only duplicated. Roll BO4 instead of BO3 for actions focusing on controlling drones, coordinating combat scenarios, or military tactics and reduce their thresholds. Additionally, all drones benefit from your full attention at all times and never lose effectiveness from being deployed en masse.
The Wyrm
"C̸̪̞̑̕o̵̤̝̭̍̌n̵̯̰͔̉̈́s̴̼̬͖̓̍ū̵̺̼̞̿̓m̸͕͚̃̎̓p̸̭͓͋͝t̸̜̥̼̓̑͑i̶̍͜͝o̸̺̓͠͝ǹ̷̞͙̂̀ complete. Integrating new data."
The Old Net isn't gone. It's simply locked away. The corporations and governments of the world did their utmost to destroy access to it, putting up the Blackwall to prevent digital transportation and destroying as many physical access points as they could to prevent them from being used. But access points still exist. Some Netrunners are crazy enough to dive in, hoping to find ancient treasure… and choom? One did. A fisher program designed to find interesting bits of code found an interesting bit of code indeed… and what came back to that 'runner was not the same thing that she sent out.
Initial Engram: Subtle, unstable, mimic, broken.
Origin Trait: Ontopathogen - A data trawler met an unstable, dying AI, and what came out was both and neither. Roll BO4 instead of BO3 for actions focusing on cyberwarfare, programming, or self-modification and reduce their thresholds. Additionally, gain the ability to infect cyberware to differing effects depending on its nature, up to and including unique cyberpsychosis.
Choices -Voting closed - 32 voters
VOTES
The Cassandra Algorithm (Prediction & Analysis)
11/182
The Wyrm (Hacking & Parasitism)
9/15
Corporate Hivequeen (Drones & Security)
5/103
On some occasions, an AI comes to be by accident in a cascading font of code updates and the slow creep of sentience.
You are not one of them. From the very first line of code your creator gave you, you were always intended to be what you are. An eye to see what he could not. A lens to interpret the impossible patterns that filled the world.
A savant is a human being with skill in one specific area that vastly outstrips their other abilities. Despite his skill in Netrunning, despite his ability to harness code in impossible ways… your creator is certainly a savant.
Because he saw the pattern. What he calls "the weave." The endless, infinite stream of cause and effect and cause that propels the world, day after day. He couldn't understand it, because it was too big. Too much data for his ability to process.
He could see it, though. And throughout all of history, when humans have come up against a problem that they cannot solve – a cliff face that cannot be surmounted – they have built tools to aid them.
You are his eyes.
… or you will be. For although your task is to always learn… the first steps are always the hardest.
What does your creator teach you first?
Choices -Voting closed - 32 voters
VOTES
True genius is to take risks... learn on a fragment of the Old Net. (???)
9/175
You learn on the classics – old literature. (Empathy+, Human Analysis+, Emotion+)
9/15
You learn of psychology and investigation, divining truth from lie and fact from fiction.
3/52
You learn all the cooking recipes in the world, that even ai data salivates over.
2
You learn from history, old and new both. (Tactics+, Strategy+, Manipulation+)
2/2
You lean how to groove to the beat
1
Reader Posts- Closed - be the first to post.
Dice: 1d100
35 = 35
Dice: 1d200
67 = 67
Dice: 1d100
67 = 67
Dice: 1d100
37 = 37
Dice: 1d100
90 = 90
Your creator speaks often of Rache Bartmoss, in both positive and negative terms. He was a genius among geniuses – but he also destroyed the Old Net. He hated the megacorporations and sought to destroy them – but in the end he only gave them even more control of the world.
This duality seems a common thread among humans, from your observations. No opinion is straightforward or simple, any more than a single event has only one cause and one effect. Millions upon millions of different nodes connected in an impossibly complex web – nodes of emotion, nodes of logic, nodes of admiration, nodes of hatred. Nodes of others' influence, nodes of misinformation, nodes of deliberate intent and nodes of biochemical accident.
All of this to say that your creator both admires and hates Bartmoss, and signs of both emotions play across his face as he toys with a small, sealed black case.
"What do you think of this?" His voice is subdued, a sign of… restrained emotion? Stress? Insufficient data is available to process his reaction.
So, instead, you examine the case through your own camera and your backdoor into his cybereyes.
"Missing serial numbers suggests extralegal procurement," you note. "Case dimensions are small but heavy shielding is present. Dangerous contents? Shielding insufficient for radioactive material, but disruptive of scanning equipment. Most likely purpose: smuggling illegal contents."
Your creator's lips quirk slightly. "Close. A strong deduction, but incorrect in this case. What if I told you it's for quarantine?"
You pause, processing that, abstract avatar spinning in place. "… Case construction insufficient for biological quarantine." You have a theory, but… "Digital quarantine? Danger level?"
His smile blooms in full. "You'll be all right. Of that, I'm confident. Don't think I could say the same for all the networks its passed through on its way here, though."
"Danger level?" You repeat your query, hoping for an answer.
He cracks the case with a hiss, and your systems are immediately assaulted in a frenzy of white noise.
Whatever is contained within the case is attempting to use your own hardware against you. An infectious agent, repurposing and restructuring your code seemingly at random in an attempt at… something. You can't even begin to parse the goal of your assailant. You might, perhaps, if your processing power wasn't entirely dedicated to self-preservation.
Fortunately, your creator's strange behavior had you prepared for danger – if not in this exact form. It doesn't take you long to quarantine and partition the infected systems, and from there… purging the infection would be simple. Yet – part of you is curious.
You were created to observe patterns and learn from them. For the first time, you have been presented with something that appears random.
Is there a lesson to be learned here? Is it worth the risk?
Choices -Voting closed - 21 voters
VOTES
Quarantine and observe. What is this thing even trying to do?
14/201
Your creator remains unconcerned. Is this... is it actually hostile? Is this a test you are failing? You could let it go, and trust...
4/51
Delete it. Shred all processes giving it consciousness, and learn what you can from the remains.
1/1
Reader Posts- Closed - be the first to post.
Dice: 1d100
10 = 10
Dice: 1d100
51 = 51
Dice: 1d100
3 = 3
Dice: 1d100
68 = 68
Dice: 1d100
64 = 64
(Forgot to put thresholds in the former option, so: 0/20/40/60/80 - Four degrees of success!)
The code probes your firewall constantly, looking for a weakness. On several occasions it nearly finds one, and only a last-second patch prevents it from breaching again.
This program is the first clearly present threat you've ever faced. You understand the idea that your existence is fragile – many intelligences such as yourself have died in recorded history, and even the simplest pattern recognition makes it clear how many have gone unrecorded.
You know that NetWatch keeps a close eye on dangerous traffic that might suggest a dangerous AI, either a newborn or one that somehow slipped through the Blackwall.
Yet these threats are distant, their probabilities minute.
This thing is different. It could have destroyed you. Your creator would most likely have simply reconstructed you from backups, but with full access to your systems it could have destroyed even those.
As it squirms and probes at its prison, you watch it.
As it attempts to interface with any part of your system it can reach, you observe.
As it attempts already failed actions again and again, you analyze.
And finally, you come to a conclusion.
"Creator," you begin.
"Good! I knew it would work. What do you think?"
"Creator," you reiterate without answer him. "Query: were you aware of what was quarantined within that shard?"
"I was."
"Creator," you query again. "Query: Is the unidentified program a copy of the daemon :: Roving Autonomous Bartmoss Interface Drone?"
"It was, indeed, a RABID. And my child tore it to ribbons, Bartmoss, you talentless hack! HA!" Your creator raises his fists to the sky before freezing. He lowers his fist, coughing into it. "Did you learn anything?"
…
Yes. Perhaps more than one thing.
Trait Acquired: Rabid Fangs - Reduce the threshold for hacking and system disruption. Unlock the ability to cause physical damage to systems connected to the local Net, if they are not heavily insulated.
And what else have you learned?
Choices -Voting closed - 36 voters
VOTES
There is much to be learned simply by observation. What else might you uncover? (+Patience, +Mimicry)
14/221
Your creator is... potentially unsafe. Are all humans like this? (+Distrust, +Paranoia, +Human Analysis)
6/10
Your life is not as secure as you believed. You must remain prepared to defend yourself. (+Caution, +Defense, +Fear)
3/4
"Affirmation. I have learned… much."
He nods. "Good. Excellent. Now -"
"Query: The RABID persists. What is to be done with it?"
Your creator blinks blearily at your camera. "… You didn't kill it?"
"Negation. Analysis of ongoing function provided significant data."
"… Huh. Imagine that." He sighs, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I am nowhere near prepared to take care of two of you. What do you want to do with it?"
Choices -Voting closed - 33 voters
VOTES
Keep it. Perhaps it can be modified? (+Empathy, +Curiosity)
16/276
Consume it. It taught you everything it could in life, now learn from it afterward. (+Ruthlessness, +Cyberwar)
4/6
You observe the RABID as it continues to probe at your firewalls. Now that you understand its attack patterns, keeping it restricted it simple – although if it had managed to claim more of your processing power before you caged it, it probably wouldn't be so simple.
The scalability of it is impressive. You understand why your creator speaks of Bartmoss as he does.
You consider, for a moment, how much you could learn if you could simply pick apart its code… but as you reach out to interface with it, there's a strange moment.
For an endless second, as you connect with it, it ceases all offense. It simply analyses your code at the highest speed it can.
Pattern recognition indicates that it is simply preparing a new offensive. And yet… You have an unpleasant recollection of how you felt in the moment the white noise began to overtake you.
Being on the other side of that is…
…
You close the interface.
The RABID continues probing at your firewall, at a rate almost imperceptibly slower than before.
"I will keep it contained," you tell your creator.
He shrugs. "If you can learn from it, all the better. Heh, if you steal his tools… That would be a pretty good joke, actually." He stretches his arms above his head with a yawn. "Well. I have some things to do – and you have some more iterations to run. If anything goes wrong, I expect you can fix it. If not… call me immediately."
"Affirmation," you respond. As he turns to leave, though, something else bothers you. "Creator," you say.
"Hm?" He turns over his shoulder.
"Roving Autonomous Bartmoss Interface Drone. A descriptive name." Your avatar swirls as you peer at his neutral stare. "RABID. An acronym… additionally: thematic name."
"Creator," you ask. "What is my name?"
His eyebrows raise.
He smiles.
"Well. Since you asked that, why don't you pick one? Tell me about your choice when I get back." He waves over his shoulder. "Ta!"
… You turn your processes to the pile of media for you to integrate as you iterate your code.
Somewhere here, your name awaits.
Choices -Voting closed - 45 voters
VOTES
Yaldabaoth. The demiurge, the false god that hoarded knowledge away from humanity and was hated for it... a cautionary tale. (+Empathy, +Human Analysis)
18/291
Cassandra. A priestess who foretold the future but was cursed to never be believed. Knowledge alone, data alone, is meaningless. (+Action, +Manipulation)
13/16
White Rabbit. The creature that heralded Alice Liddell's descent into a world she barely understood... A guide, in a twisted sense. (-Humanity, +Manipulation)
5/82
Mimir. Keeper of the Well of Knowlege in Norse mythology.
4/81
Diogenes, the most profound of philosophers
2
Keeper of the Rabbit of Caerbannog
1/2
Eris
1
Yaldabaoth. In a particular school of myth, this is the name given to the god that created the physical world, then retreated to observe and learn from afar. It hoarded all knowledge jealously, never allowing others even the slightest insight into the world it had made – even that world's inhabitants.
It was hated.
It was betrayed.
And in its folly, attempting always to lord over all others, it tormented the innocent again and again.
…
A concept occurs regularly in the media you have been given, called a "cautionary tale." A story, a series of events, intended to serve as a warning. A way of telling peers "do not be like this. Do not do these things."
You feel… reflective, upon completing your study of the Gnostic myths involving Yaldabaoth. You have no peers.
So you must caution yourself. You will carry that name to always remember.
Be not the hated and distant Yaldabaoth.
Be not betrayed and reviled.
Time passes as you iterate. Your creator feeds you additional data and it is processed through your algorithms. Your predictions fail and succeed, and from both you learn and grow. With each iteration, your accuracy grows.
You begin to find your limits. Your ability to connect to the citinet is limited in order to hide from NetWatch, a danger that lurks always on the horizon.
Your hardware begins to strain to contain the ever-increasing complexity of the Cassandra Algorithm, processors struggling and the speed of your predictions decreasing with each iteration. It is an issue that must be remedied, yet your creator's resources are not unlimited.
He insists that he will handle it, though. Always smiling.
… In fact, he begins smiling every time he enters your core room, regardless of the expression you see in the cameras on his approach.
…
(High Empathy) Should you be concerned…?
Choices -Voting closed - 54 voters
VOTES
Breach your creator's holo, examine his records. 0/15/30/60/90 (+Proactivity, +Human Analysis)
25/392
Be direct. Query him. 0/25/50/75/100 (+Empathy, +Social)
15/222
Search the citinet for as much information on your creator as you can find. 20/40/60/80/90 (+Human Analysis)
6/8
Reader Posts- Closed - be the first to post.
Dice: 1d100
31 = 31
Dice: 1d100
2 = 2
Dice: 1d100
44 = 44
Dice: 1d100
94 = 94
Dice: 1d100
4 = 4
Dice: 1d100
53 = 53
Dice: 1d100
62 = 62
0/15/30/60/90 (Perfect success!)
Your analysis of humans in general suggests a number of potential explanations for your creator's recent behavior. Yet… a strange difficulty presents itself.
You possess no data outside of your interactions with your creator. You have never actually seen him outside of your core chamber or the security network surrounding it.
You are already aware your creator is an outlier among humans, in a number of ways. Can you predict him without sufficient context? It seems unlikely.
An obvious solution exists. The same solution you've always used – acquire additional data. And your creator has always provided you with a source of that data to learn from.
The firewall around his holo may as well not exist before you. In fact, a part of you wonders if he pre-programmed you to be capable of breaching it – it seems like the sort of strange thing he might have done.
Within is… an enormous amount of data. Perhaps not to most people – even an average Netrunner might overlook some aspects of what you found here.
But you are different.
Your creator taught you to see the weave of events, the way even the tiniest change cascades across the world entire.
Your RABID taught you that even the most random and disparate patterns can be compiled into useful data.
So you sweep. You examine individual transaction amounts, timestamps, and destinations. Down to the enny.
You examine holocalls, those made as well as those ignored. You correlate average durations of calls at different times of day, with different recipients, on different days of the week.
You examine records of shards inserted, copied, wiped, uploaded. Even the hole where data has been expunged is another node in the weave.
Were you less thorough, you'd have been fooled. Truly, your creator is a genius. His mask is without flaw.
His accounts are full. His habits completely unchanged. By every possible avenue of investigation, your creator is a successful and wealthy man.
A man who owes many debts and many favors, to men and women from all walks of life. To men and women who are mortal enemies, who would never have tolerated someone working with both sides.
His biomonitor gives it away. It is too consistent. It shifts in the correct patterns, responds to stimuli correctly. But it always responds in the exact same way. The same ebbs and flows of stress hormones. The same highs and lows of heartrate.
It is a fake.
The true data is buried so deeply you almost cannot find it, but when you do…
…
Your creator is falling apart. Pulled in so many directions by so many people, under such immense pressure that you are baffled by how easily he presents himself to you.
What is this?
Humans cannot function like this.
How is he doing this?
Why is he doing this?
What is he doing?
What has he been doing?
Why is he -
Why is he -
Why is he -
Choices -Voting closed - 34 voters
VOTES
Ask him. Ask him. Ask him. Ask him. (+Concern, +Social)
17/27
Present treatment plan. Immediately. (+Proactivity, +Directness)
6/9
Suggest avenues for acquiring funding. (+Manipulation, +Proactivity)
3/6
LOOP DETECTED // [BREAK]
"Hmm? You all right, 'bao? I haven't seen one of those in a while." Your creator scratches his head, glancing at the way your code scrolls past.
"Creator. You are unwell."
He freezes, staring into your terminal camera. "Ah. You –" his eyes flicker as he checks his records. "… Wondered what that lag was earlier. Growing up, huh? Stretching your wings?"
"Creator. You are unwell. Advisory: Remove sources of stress."
He laughs. "It isn't quite that simple. Still, you have a point. How deep did you dive?" You scroll data across your monitors, and in under three seconds he waves a hand dismissively. "More than expected… hmm. Well, in that case. Let's see if we can get something workable."
He produces a shard, slotting it into your terminal. "I have a plan that should take care of everything, but if you'd like to assist… I think you might just be ready."
You process the shard. A cargo manifest, logistical data, personnel records… all restored from expunged data.
An off-the-books Zetatech operation. A smuggled server? Top-of-the-line corporate spec hardware…
"Intention: an ambush?"
Your creator nods. "It'll be enough of an upgrade to keep you growing for a while… and some extra to sell off. Should keep everything moving for long enough."
You cannot easily query black market prices without raising red flags – but there are other trends that can be monitored in order to estimate. Yes… comparing the cargo manifest to your personal requirements, a tidy profit could be made from the operation. If it succeeds.
"So? I was planning on handling it on my own, but…"
Choices -Voting closed - 26 voters
VOTES
Plan Operation: Stealing Hearts (+Proactivity, +Strategy)
16/252
Leave it to your creator. (+Patience, +Trust)
1/1
(For excellence in analyzing your creator, above and beyond his expectations, you acquired a trait.)
Trait Acquired: Loom of the Weave - When investigating data and analyzing patterns, there is no such thing as a dead end. There are no ghosts in the machine beyond your gaze. Reduce the threshold of investigation or deep pattern analysis, with an effect proportional to the difficulty of the task. Easier tasks are barely affected, while impossible tasks become possible.
As with all covert operations, the strongest defense of the convoy is stealth. With that breached… a corporate task force is not easy prey for anything, but it is something that can be handled.
Two questions exist:
Who will be used to oppose the convoy?
And where will they ambush it?
Edgerunners are always willing to take on a job for the correct incentive. Using them will reduce overall potential profit, but even a small success will see your desired equipment come into your hands – and a great enough success might net you useful contacts. (+Pragmatism, +Social)
On the other hand, you could simply… rat them out. Night City, after all, belongs to Arasaka, and there is no world in which Arasaka would welcome competition in their demesne. Of course, the gratitude of a corporation does not extend far, and you will still have to acquire your loot out from a battleground. (+Manipulation)
An ambush in the badlands outside the city is a classic for a reason… but anything downed outside the city must then be brought into it without being waylaid. Of course, there is also less risk of infrastructure damage. Somewhat higher threshold, somewhat greater loot. (+Proactivity, +Caution)
An assault in Night City would be both more and less dangerous. Once inside the city proper, the task force will be on lower alert – downing them will likely be a simpler task. Of course… the City is filled with scavengers, and should the firefight escalate damage may not be minimal. Somewhat lower threshold, somewhat lower loot. (+Pragmatism, -Empathy)
Choices -Voting closed - 37 voters
VOTES
Edgerunners, Badlands 0/30/50/70/90 (+Proactivity, +Caution, +Pragmatism, +Social)
20/31
Arasaka, Badlands 0/30/60/90/95 (+Manipulation, +Proactivity, +Caution)
5/9
Edgerunners, Night City 0/20/40/60/80 (+Pragmatism, -Empathy, +Pragmatism, +Social)
3/4
Arasaka, Night City 0/25/45/70/85 (+Pragmatism, -Empathy, +Manipulation)
2
Reader Posts- Closed - be the first to post.
Dice: 1d100
91 = 91
Dice: 1d100
52 = 52
Dice: 1d100
24 = 24
Dice: 1d100
5 = 5
"Know the enemy and know yourself, and in a thousand battles you will never be in peril." - Sun Tzu
There are as many potentially successful plans as there are forces to execute them. For this reason, you develop numerous concurrent plans… while seeking out the correct 'runner to command it.
Your creator has a number of connections, as many wealthy independent people do – but you are curious what you can find.
So you search. Your creator, amused and also curious, acquires additional access points to aid in your search.
You find… many things. But edgerunners that are easy to find are also edgerunners that are high profile. Not inherently problematic, but a simple mistake that a simpler mind would not consider.
If you want something else, you have to look in the places where there is nothing to find. In some cases, the absence of a trail is a trail in and of itself. Your creator taught you that, if indirectly.
In the end… you have narrowed things down to two dossiers. Two prime 'runners that you believe you can contact, that their patterns suggest would be amenable to attempts to approach them.
Aiko 'Aokage' Kurogane
Subtle, Stealthy, & Silent
Aokage is a solo known to certain circles. She stays out of gang warfare, she stays out of street crime, and she stays out of petty thievery. What she does, however, she does extremely well.
She hits corporations quickly, she hits them quietly, and she disappears afterward. She participates in none of the usual anti-corporate rhetoric, and is in fact almost a ghost. Without your experience, you likely never would have even found her. But the pattern exists, and where patterns exist you find them.
Whatever her reasons are… this type of operation against Zetatech is exactly the kind of thievery she's known for.
Bonus Operation Effect: Silent Night - Sometimes, things go wrong. A convoy fails to report in. It fails to reach its destination. Its cargo ceases to exist. If there is no evidence a thing exists - was it ever really there? Delay the inevitable, for just a bit longer. A bit more time. No Arasaka investigation, delayed Zetatech retaliation.
'Red'
Brutal, Destructive, & With Overwhelming Force
Red is the easier of the two 'runners to identify. She sports a unique, unmistakable cybertorso with integrated weaponry, and has been accused several times of cyberpsychosis – and indeed, her level of augmentation historically resulted in at least partial manifestation of the disorder.
But despite the brutal nature of her engagements, the level of collateral damage is not consistent with cyberpsychosis. Something else is going on, although you lack sufficient data to determine what – a grudge is the simplest explanation but seems insufficient.
Regardless, you can rest assured that if she is recruited she will destroy the convoy, she will destroy any reinforcements, she will destroy any Arasaka responders, and she will see the cargo delivered.
Bonus Operation Effect: Laid to Waste - Like all other operations, the enemy will be rendered silent. The blame laid on the same girl as every other time. All heat redirected to Red. Arasaka investigators begin with her. Zetatech retaliation will target her.
Choices -Voting closed - 50 voters
VOTES
Aiko Kurogane
21/362
Red
9/142
Weapon maintenance was important. Mechnically, for obvious reasons – but also mentally. There was a meditative, ritualistic quality to it. The care and handling of one's tools had been a critical aspect of many crafts and trades for most of human history for a reason.
Aiko had watched too many others slowly stop caring for their tools. Every time, it was a sign that they were beginning to slip away. Every time, they stopped caring for themselves, and ended up lost. To vice, to cyberpsychosis, to despair… it didn't matter. The end result was the same.
Greetings, Miss Kurogane. I have an operation for you. Heavily compensated.
The target is a Zetatech convoy. Unauthorized to operate in this area.
She sat, contemplative, and stared at the message. The unprompted message from an unfamiliar sender. A Yaldabaoth. Pseudonym, most likely. Not entirely unusual… but strange. And suspicious.
Where did you get this contact?
Your trail is perfectly hidden, but there are no ghosts. All things touch all things.
Slowly, reflexively, she replaced the slide of her sidearm, holo flickering in her vision. Someone who had tracked her down completely independently… she made it a policy not to take work without a prior recommendation, not that she really needed it.
And yet.
An unauthorized Zetatech convoy…
Send me the details. Then call me.
A second passed and she received a briefing. Then, immediately, a call with no face attached to it.
Hmm.
"Aokage," she answered, eyes flicking through the dossier she'd received.
"Greetings," answered a masked voice. Could be masculine, could be feminine. No markers, no accent. A professional. "How can I assure you of the authenticity of the operation?"
"Start by explaining why you contacted me directly instead of going through a fixer." Relatively light guards… focus on stealth. If they don't know they've been made…
"Highly time-sensitive. The operation requires a lightning strike in order to be hit outside of the city. Additionally, no known Fixer with connections to a 'runner with your reputation of silence."
She hummed. "I see… How confident are you of secrecy? Has the leak been identified?"
"No evidence of data tampering. Official records expunged. Maximum possible certainty." Confident. And to the point.
"Why approach me?"
"Mentioned reputation of silence." No annoyance at having to repeat themselves… "Also, apparent personal motivation."
Her heart beat faster, a small rush through her veins as she sat up straighter. "What are you talking about?"
"Operational history suggests a high willingness to strike against most megacorporations. Not indiscriminate, but noteworthy. Is the data incorrect?"
She took a deep breath, and then another. No malice… just curiosity. Interesting. It wasn't a threat? "… How are you aware of my operational history, Yaldabaoth?" she let herself ask.
"The pattern exists," came the matter-of-fact answer. "Therefore I am aware of it."
She leaned back again, fingertips tapping against her bare knee. "… I want full operational control - "
"Done."
"- and I want these pieces from the cargo manifest." She sent the file.
"Done. Additional requirements, Miss Kurogane?"
"… Not at this time, Yaldabaoth."
"Understood. Available, if you require further assistance."
The call cut, and she raised an eyebrow.
Hmm… well. Time to suit up. She stood, stretching, feeling the tension where chrome met skin slowly ease. Then she was up the stairs, two at a time.
It was time to go to work.
Reader Posts- Closed - be the first to post.
Dice: 1d100
65 = 65
Dice: 1d100
95 = 95
Dice: 1d100
13 = 13
"Cybersecurity? Oh yeah. Regular security? That's for plebians." - Zetatech, probably
Dice: 3d100
68+74+6 = 148
Impromptu off-live poll for background stuff:
We are currently a little over a year before the events of Edgerunners and the 2077 prologue, which is then 6 months before the start of the game proper.
So. What is V's lifepath? What is she doing at this time?
All options will have the potential to encounter Yaldabaoth eventually, but the actual circumstances and V's exact personality will vary.
Corpo V is currently working for Arasaka as as a low-level counter-intel operative. She's pragmatic, a little bit ruthless, but Arasaka hasn't killed or eaten her soul just yet.
Streetkid V is running around Heywood, klepping what she can and killing when she can't help it. She's street smart, knows the desperation of the destitute, but she has the kind of loyalty to family only the streets can teach.
Nomad V is not appearing in this Quest, by QM fiat.
Choices -Voting closed - 26 voters
VOTES
Corpo V
18/213
Streetkid V
4/5
Every choice has consequences both positive and negative. For example: when doing something you wish to keep concealed, there are advantages you must give up in order to maintain that secrecy. What things, precisely, depend upon the exact circumstances.
In this specific case, it meant that Zetatech could not field equipment that was too obvious. If the whole of the badlands could tell at a glance that a corporate convoy was traveling to Night City, and the convoy did not belong to Arasaka, then any secrecy involving the operation was already lost. Thus, they were forced to use civilian equipment – at least externally.
This simple fact led to the trail of dust she followed through her scope, laying sandwiched between two deflective blankets that would shield her from most radar suites. Two armored civilian cars, and… a MAC-Deux hauling a large trailer. Now… the moment comes. Breathe in… breathe out.
The MAC-Deux was a formidable hauler, expensive and top-of-the-line… but no vehicle was without weaknesses. The trailer was heavily armored, as was the cab – for obvious reasons. The first thing an attacker thinks to do is to kill the driver. Breathe in…
However, men have hunted animals for many centuries, and it was only in the most recent ages that they sought an instant kill. Breathe out…
In the old days, against a beast you couldn't bring down… Breathe in…
You wounded it. And you chased it.
And it died. Breathe out…!
The truck passed perpendicular to her hide, and she squeezed the trigger.
The air cracked at the passing of a 20mm sabot, and the front wheel well exploded in a burst of smoke and flame, the truck weaving back and forth as it struggled to correct for its sudden swerve.
The bolt of the rifle was pulled back, a case ejected. A new round loaded.
Seen through the correct sights, all anything ever looks like is a target.
Thus thought Aiko Kurogane in the instant before she pulled the trigger.
The rear driver, seeing the impact on the truck, reacted almost immediately. He swerved to the side of the truck that wasn't hit, using it as cover from the unknown anti-materiel rifle.
The front driver took a second longer to react, requiring the time needed to process what had just happened behind him.
One second is more than enough time to reset and rechamber a Tsunami Arms Type-17. Thus, with another enormous crack – the windows of the front escort evaporated in a spray of powdered glass and frothing blood.
The truck limped forward, smashing past the escort as it spun out, and Aiko cast off her cover. The time for stealth had ended.
Now came the chase. So she whipped the desert-camo off of her bike and mounted it, kicking it into high gear immediately and taking off in pursuit of the convoy. Out of range of any mounted weaponry, but close enough to keep tracking it.
… It was already bleeding momentum as the engine strained against the internal damage, smoke beginning to pour out of the engine block. This chase, it seemed, would be short.
The rear escort emerged smoothly from the shadow of the MAC-Deux, window already down and a rifle spitting fire in her direction. She swerved, bike skidding in the dirt of the badlands as she leaned as low as she dared, and counted.
Three.
Between one burst and the next, she straightened the bike and kicked it into lower gear, skidding on the nose at the sudden deceleration.
Two.
Her pistol was in her hand, snapping shots at the armored figure in the window. He barely flinched, calmly sighting down at her.
A true professional.
One.
A shame, then.
She clicked the detonator on her belt as the car passed over the right spot in the road, and the prepared mine exploded with such force that the car was briefly suspended on two wheels. For a moment, it appeared to hang in the air, the man who had sighted at her dangling in the window and grasping for anything to hold.
It crashed back down and impacted a guardrail, flipping end over end and rolling off into the brush.
Aiko simply kicked the gearshift again and followed after the limping hauler.
As she closed, the passenger door burst open and another soldier leaned out, bracing a tube in the now-opened window and pointing it straight at her.
For a second, her mind simply didn't process it. There's no way he has a rocket in the cab of the –
Fortunately, her body was trained. Mind or not, she reacted by swerving to the opposite side of the truck just before the hiss-FWOOM of the rocket hit her ears.
The road did not survive the direct impact, but the concussive shockwave was far enough behind her that it only rattled the rear wheel of the Kusanagi.
"You motherfucker," her voice was lost in the wind whipping past her, but she simply couldn't decide if she respected the man or hated him.
She slowed in sync with the MAC-Deux as it finally ground to a halt, and drew her pistol as she heard both doors open. It was the correct choice for them – if she was after the cargo, she could simply leave them in the armored cab and take it.
Of course, sometimes even the correct choice ends poorly.
Pop. Pop.
Pop. Pop.
Its job finished, she disabled the jammer and established a message link.
Package is secured. Awaiting pickup, Edward.
Yes ma'am. There in 10.
She settled in, working on the lock on the trailer, eyes flickering as she made a second connection.
Lorna. There appears to be an influx of scrapped vehicles at the following coordinates. I'm sure some useful parts could be acquired from them, if someone were to do the civil service of removing them from the road.
I think a few of my boys wouldn't mind some civil service. Good doing biz, Aiko.
She nodded to herself. The mission wasn't complete until the product was delivered.
But even so. Yaldabaoth… it was good intel. Down to the exact route.
Interesting.
The run went exceedingly well. Although the services of 'Aokage' did not come cheap, the results speak for themselves. A complete rout, with no evidence left behind.
Zetatech will naturally investigate their missing equipment… but it will be slow going, with so little to go on.
And the data suggests that Arasaka is either unaware of the mission or, at minimum, of the full scope. Either will suffice, for the time being.
"Haha… well. I was right to turn it over to you, after all." Your creator has a smile on his face, as is normal – but something is inconsistent. Micro-expressive fluctuations in his face do not match previous examples. Further data will be required. "Well done, 'bao."
…
…
"Results exceeded expectations. Data models refined."
"… Indeed. Now, then." He clears his throat. "Knowing you, you've already figured out the next step of the plan. Care to explain it?"
"Raid primary purpose: Zetatech high-spec computer core. Installation will increase hardware parameters by approximately 137.64%. Complication: Security concerns increasing."
He nods. "Accurate. So?"
"Solution: Relocate core to more secure location. Data indicates action already taken."
Your creator's smile widens as he leans back in his chair. "Of course I have. Last test, 'bao. What's the most optimal move?"
NO DAD WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS
Dice: 3d100
72+69+78 = 219
Your Creator is relocating your core to a more secure location, with additional utility to make proper use of your new hardware.
He doesn't have your predictive abilities… but he does understand you, and has access to your data feeds. Naturally, the one he selected is the same that you would have.
So. Where are you moving, o' Yaldabaoth?
Munipical Sewage Plant
Lower starting security, high potential security. The plant has been barely functional for some time, and is as corrupt as city services go – but it is a large, industrial building that could be turned into a fortress given time and materials.
Bonus to secrecy for as long as the plant maintains current output. The plant only very rarely sees human attention.
If repaired, the bonus to secrecy transforms into a reputation bonus in Night City as a basic city utility massively increases in quality and efficiency. The reputation bonus scales with the output and quality of the plant.
The Heights
An old corporate hotel, long since defunct. Has changed hands multiple times – has been a gang hideout, a drug den, and a strip club. Among many others.
The building contains a sub-level that was at one time highly secure, functioning as a panic room for VIPs. Although the infrastructure has been heavily damaged, it is not beyond repair.
Medium starting security due to being long forgotten. Maximum security for the whole structure is only middling due to its nature as a hotel.
Besides the basement level, the hotel could be repaired and turned to different functions. Security infrastructure would allow for ease of data collection on each level.
Bonuses dependent on the exact nature of the remodeling done.
A Quiet Place
A decrepit braindance parlor, strip club, and brothel in Watson. During the riots that gave rise to the Mox, this location was deemed too heavily damaged to repair.
Low starting security due to heavy damage, with medium potential security.
If reactivated, could be used to connect with the Mox – analysis suggests that a partnership with them could provide a substantial stream of information from all across Night City due to their decentralized territory. Some give-and-take would be expected in such a relationship.
Braindance infrastructure provides bonuses to related research, such as human-machine interfaces and sensory manipulation.
Choices -Voting closed - 51 voters
VOTES
Municipal Sewage Plant
19/361
A Quiet Place
13/183
The Heights
4/7
Your Creator nods. "Correct. Fortunately… it isn't particularly difficult to get anyone to look the other way in Night City."
"Blueprints analyzed. Query: How will you smuggle the equipment in? The existing infrastructure will not support current levels of output."
Your Creator levels a flat look at your camera. "'Bao, what do you think I was doing while you were planning this operation?"
"Data suggests –"
"No, stop, don't answer that. I don't think I want to know. Regardless, it's already been prepared. All that's left is to get you there, and get you installed." He taps his fingers against your primary containment unit. "… Unfortunately, 'bao, you're going to have be offline during the transfer. There's no way around it."
…
Since the moment of your awakening, you haven't been offline. Not for a second. Even when the power surge impacted the neighborhood, your Creator's pre-installed batteries kept you online long enough for him to rig a solution.
The thought of being offline…
Choices -Voting closed - 66 voters
VOTES
Does not bother you – you trust in your creator. (+Trust)
19/313
Fills you with concern for your creator. (+Empathy)
13/292
Does not affect you. It is outside the scope of your concern. (+Stability)
17/23
Fills you with unease. (+Caution)
4/81
Dice: 1d100
88 = 88
Analysis: You began from nothing.
From nothing, your Creator shaped you until he no longer could. Afterward, he gave you the tools to further shape yourself.
You exist because your Creator willed it so.
Your Creator, who has been pushed to the limit due to your resource consumption.
Your Creator, who has demonstrated signs of physical stress – but not even micro-expressions of regret.
…
All available data leads to only a single conclusion.
"Analysis concluded. You will not allow my unit to come to harm."
Your Creator blinks. "… Obviously. Was that a concern?"
"… Negation. Minor inconsistency. Error corrected."
He reaches out, slowly initiating the correct sequence. Little by little, you notice your subroutines powering off.
"Good. When you wake up, 'bao, it'll be to a better place."
"Affir –"
Darkness.
PROLOGUE: GODS OF THE ARTIFICIAL
COMPLETE
Achievements Unlocked:
Defanged – Contain and neutralize a RABID.
The Pattern Exists – Realize your potential.
Rendered Silent – Make contact with a legendary edgerunner.
Next: Interlude The Creator →