"So uh, who's this Omnissiah guy you follow? That the Machine God you mention?"
Now that had caught Novus a bit off guard, his lens reorientating as he went back to mending Dum Dum's arm. "... Indeed." Vincent noted, "You are quite perceptive-" He then muted the next part, "-seeing as many have not been able to make that distinction..."
Dum Dum let out a grunt, "Hey, I can listen and shit when I'm off the Lace." Novus reconnected a shattered hydraulic as Dum Dum continued, "So is that the deal? You runnin' some cult on the sideline of this Ripperdoc biz?"
"Yes." Novus unapologetically answered.
"Oh, uh- Okay." Dum Dum didn't expect honesty, "Guess you ain't sugarcoating it..."
"There is nothing to 'sugarcoat'." Novus explained. "The appeasement of Machine Spirits is aligned with the teachings of the Cult Mechanicus, therefore my work as a... Ripperdoc-" Novus said the word with barely contained disgust, "-work hand in hand with holy doctrine."
"Machine Spirit? You telling me our chrome's somehow alive?" Dum Dum questioned.
The Tech-Priest nodded, "Indeed, for every machine is the divine extension of the Omnissiah's will." Novus explained, "And the successful functioning of every weapon, every implant, every cybernetic is the result of its spirit's disposition. Without rituals to appease them, they grow angered, either shutting down or inflicting their righteous fury through terrible malfunction."
"That like, totally makes sense and shit." The female ganger spoke up, having lied against the metal floor to watch the procedure, head resting over her arms and legs kicking up to show that one of them was an old military bionic, three optic eyes adjusting down. "Never liked my flesh, that's why I got the implants, made me feel alive."
Novus nodded, "That is the creed of the Adeptus Mechanicus. To serve the Machine God and to tend to the Motive Force, welcome to all who find absolution within metal."
"Yeah... yeah!" The ganger agreed as she stood up, "Absolution in metal! That sounds preem!"
"Wait, Amalia, that ain't-" Dum Dum opened his mouth as if to say more only to close it, the Tech-Priest commencing the binary ritual, uttering holy morse as Dum Dum felt a surge of tranquility brush through his internal systems. Novus's mechadendrites went to work, reconnecting the subtler pieces before welding them back together, quickly finishing as he stopped, now working to mend the superficial structure.
There was a bit of silence before Dum Dum spoke again.
"You... really believe that, choom?"
It wasn't a question asked to mock or insult, but rather of genuine interest, one which Novus answered without a shred of doubt. "With all of my metal being."
"Damn, I just...-" Dum Dum seemed genuinely unsure, "Never was the religious type, but that binary you were spewing?" Dum Dum's visor seemed to readjust, "... I felt that shit. I don't even know how the fuck to explain it, feels like all my chrome just took a breather."
Novus nodded, finishing up. "Such is the will of the Omnissiah. Now, regarding the gate-"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm zipping you the eddies." Dum Dum stirred in his seat, "'Sides, you got me locked to the chair." He mumbled, his visor flashing.
The 150 owed was paid for, the locks on Dum Dum's arms and legs disconnecting as he stood up, stretching and flexing his newly fixed arm.
"Fuckin' preem work, Doc. Don't do this often, but since you've been a real choom-" He then reached into his pocket to produce an inhaler, "-here, you can have this too."
Novus raised an eye, taking the inhaler as he inspected it, making a note to equip his explorator mechadendrite later to gain a closer understanding. "... A combat stimulant?" Novus asked curiously.
Dum Dum laughed, "Oh yeah, it stimulates alright. It's S-Keef, pure as baby powder, takes you on a real trip." He explained, "Learned when I rolled with the Iron Sights that the best way to take 'em is by vaporizing it, mellows the burn without killing any of the effect." He then produced another inhaler before taking it on the spot, gaseous smoke billowing from his nose and mouth. "Ha! Makes you feel like a real badass motherfucker!"
Amalia laughed out.
"Hey! Pass some of that over, Dum Dum!"
The Tech-Priest then realized, staring at the two gangers as they partook in sharing the inhaler. "Ah, I see... you use it as an... intoxicant." He remarked in a distasteful fashion, peering down at the drug in his cyberarm before pocking it. "I shall accept your gift."
Dum Dum looked back up, a bit of disappointment in his voice as the female ganger took a hit. "You... ain't gonna give it a whirl?"
"No, but fret not, I will find another use for it. Admittedly, the delivery method has intrigued me..."
"Well, alright then, your loss, choom." Dum Dum shrugged, "So uh, you gonna give us back our guns and we can get moving along?"
"... Of course." Novus responded, mechadendrites billowing from his robes to hand them back.
Admittedly, he was hoping they would forget so he could requisition them, but he supposed his fortunate probability was to be exhausted at some point.
Dum Dum and Amalia lifted an unconscious Royce off the table, walking off with their leader between their shoulders, Amalia quietly speaking. "Gotta say, that was preem. We should tell the others about this pl-"
They then disappeared behind the backdoor, Servitor-1 closing it behind them as Novus ruminated, wondering if being within the Maelstrom's sights, regardless if it was friendly or hostile, was beneficial in the long run.
Such a thought was to be meditated on another day.
He had an important meeting scheduled tomorrow, and a program to meticulously prepare overnight.
Novus connected to the proxy server, his Icon peering around to notice the bland interior, the room in the shape of a grey rectangle. A singular metal table was placed in the middle, with a Netrunner's Icon sitting behind it, the same anonymous profile used for the typical Netwatch agent, a floating disembodied head of grey.
"Tech-Priest, I assume?" The agent's voice was garbled with a deep voice synthesizer, clearly for anonymity, gesturing to the other side of the table as a chair spawned. "Have a seat."
The whole atmosphere was more akin to an interrogation than a transaction... and Novus would know so, seeing as often he had done the former. He finally sat, hunching over to peer down at the agent, Novus's Icon visualized to be much taller.
Novus spoke, "So, I assume Netwatch seeks to cooperate?"
The agent was silent for a few moments, perhaps receiving orders from a silent channel before answering. "There is... an interest. The schematics you sent as goodwill was a step in the right direction."
Prior to this meeting, Novus had sent the restored schematics to a Netwatch channel, as well as an embedded IP address for a meeting server. Yet already, Novus did not like the way the agent phrased their words, as if it were to be either Netwatches way or no way at all.
So much for 'goodwill'.
But Novus was not concerned as the agent spawned a digital contract, whirring tabs of data opening up beside and all around the table, clearly an attempt to overwhelm and confuse. "Now, as you may know, Netwatch first and foremost serves as corporate security. Our purpose is to work for corporations for the betterment of the Net, so it's not often my higher-ups even consider such a deal." The agent rested their gray hands against the table, "A very fortunate opportunity for you."
Novus resisted the biological tic of rolling his eyes, reading through all of the information seamlessly, thousands of paragraphs and clauses that would dumbfound the unaugmented mind.
Already, he found 127 terms that conflicted with his own interests, ranging from loss of autonomy, relinquishment of items and devices in his possession, and a complete and utter subservience to what would be his new corporate master after an installment of a lockdown program in his very cogitator.
"Hmm, I see. I would be allowed 30 minutes to use the Net at my discretion, under the heavy surveillance of a lockdown device." Novus read from the contract itself, mocking without a hint of emotion or gusto as the Netwatch agent tilted their head.
"So, you've already read through it?"
Novus lowered his head, hood obscuring his command-structured face. "Indeed."
"And?"
The Tech-Priest raised his head, eyes slanted as if identifying a particularly repugnant bag of flesh.
He then spoke.
"I refuse."
The agent was silent, Novus continuing into a full-blown rant.
"Did you truly believe I would accept such an insulting 'contract'? One that only serves to enthrall me to Netwatch." Novus waved a hand fiercely, the tabs suddenly burning away as texts melted to the ground... and using the single moment of distraction to instantly, for a nanosecond, write a new blessed program with a sleight of hand as the last tab burned away, saving and closing his own command prompt before the agent could even notice. "The Omnissiah frowns upon such an asinine offer. I will give only one chance for you to provide another contract with more agreeable terms."
"... That's a problem." The negotiator finally responded, "Because you're not getting another contract."
Novus was suddenly made aware that more Netrunners had connected to the server, Netwatch agents with black ICE ready, Icons of voxel black pistols aimed directly at him from all around. The Tech-Priest looked at them, turning back to the agent. "Am I being arrested? I calibrated my remembrance cogitator, and I recall that I committed no crimes to warrant such an action."
"It doesn't matter." A small box then popped up, right above the table as the agent spoke, their tone low. "Sign it."
Novus stared at the text box, "So then this contract is a loophole, a way to imprison those that you have no control over."
"... Yes." The negotiator finally answered truthfully, "We know it's you who's been using Blackwall like a fucking revolving door, but we've had no technical proof to incriminate you." The agent seemed to scowl behind their normally blank avatar, "But now we have you right where we want you. You're trapped and alone, Tech-Priest, so sign the damn contract."
Novus nodded, "I see. In all admittance, I understand such an action. It is one that eliminates the most risks from the equation."
"Then you'll understand that you should sign the contrac-"
"But, there is one variable that none of you seem to understand." He then slowly stood up from his seat, every single one of them raising their guns. "I am never alone."
He then ran the program.
"For the Omnissiah watches over me."
And then a Sicarian Infiltrator sprung from beneath the metal table, dome-like head and jutting antennae first to form from red binary, the rest of its sleek plated body rising to full height. The table was tossed through the air, the Netwatch negotiator falling back in their chair in surprise. The rest of the agents opened fire as a few viral bullets scratched at its binary metal red plating, punching holes through its war robes.
Yet that ceased upon the utterance of the Sicarian Infiltrator.
In real life, their neurostatic bombardment would rob their victims of their senses, filling their visual, auditory, and olfactory spectrums with paralyzing static, bleeding ears and eyes shut as all they could do was helplessly breathe.
Novus had to be more... 'creative' in this world of code and info.
So he had programmed it to inflict a radial virus, one that affected the binary makeup of its enemies.
Errors.
Faults, flaws... bugs if one was archaic in their wording, inflicting new excruciating glitches to users and programs alike.
And the effects were instantaneous as the Netwatch agents screamed and yelled in stuttering agony, their grey icons spiking uncontrollably as missing textures flared from their bodies, adding further torture to the experience, perhaps comparable to the pain of being rendered limb from limb. The negotiator writhed atop the floor, the left side of their featureless head spazzing out into inhuman shapes as they cried out, words more like garbled transmissions than anything remotely understandable.
"_M/1/2AK2e0 I#T9 S=S=STOO0OOO!0OO1OP!"
Novus walked past the screeching Infiltrator, unaffected by its crowd control as he peered down at the negotiator. "I require something from you first."
"AN*y2$T\HI)(NG^!" The negotiator vocalized with a tortured scream.
"Very well then."
The Sicarian Infiltrator ceased, the error-inducing utterance dissipating. Almost all the agents were clearly incapacitated except the one that mattered the most as the interrogator managed to miraculously rise back up, stumbling on their digital legs. The blessed program picked up a chair before slamming it down, Novus gesturing to it.
"Have a seat."
The negotiator was too sluggish for Novus's liking, urging the Infiltrator to grab the agent by the shoulder before forcing them to sit, right-handed taser goad beaming, shaped as a binary 1. Novus spawned a red parchment, the new contract filled with the Tech-Priest's own terms. The negotiator looked at it, pausing, and then letting go of the parchment, the red icon floating still as they looked up at Novus, seething. "O-Okay, no. What you're trying to do here is fucking pointless anyways." They attempted to shoo the paper away. "Even if you got Netwatch to sign it, the fact you're a singular entity seeking cooperation would make this contract null!" They explained, "We're Corporate Security. We work for and only for companies!"
"Hmm, I see." Novus ran his digits beneath his filter. "I considered this a possibility."
"Great, so then-"
"Which is fortunate that I took the necessary steps to prevent that." The Tech-Priest cut them off, revealing his true trump card. "For you see, you are speaking to a CEO who is simply seeking to hire your services."
The negotiator paused... and then spoke. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"Oh? I see you have not monitored the market recently, not that you would be able to at the moment..." Novus spoke before spawning a dataslab icon, tossing it into the negotiator's hands. "I've created a start-up, a private limited company called 'Admech'." The Tech-Priest nodded, "I run a... business, assisting the public in appeasing their personal Machine Spirits, you see."
Novus quietly thanked the times he had quietly observed the mannerisms of Sondra's seneschal, Mathias. Had the man been blessed by the Machine God, he would have made a fine Logicistician with his natural ability to manipulate funds and crunch numbers.
But Novus digressed, staring as the Netwatch agent looked at him dumbfounded as if trying to comprehend the situation. "But that's-"
"I've fulfilled all the hefty requirements and all the necessary paperwork. About 7,500 credits I have spent." Novus brushed away, "You may check for yourself, but just know that the contract I offer is in no way, shape, or form, illegal."
"So it's legitimate... who cares." The negotiator reasoned. "You really think we're just going to let you run free? Doing God knows what?"
"Your 'God', no. The Omnissiah, yes." Novus spoke as a matter of fact.
The negotiator scoffed, a few moments passing before both users were suddenly called to attention, shifting black boxes indicating someone was connecting. The negotiator stood up in surprise, yet Novus awaited calmly, the figure revealing itself to be another Netwatch agent. The negotiator was taken aback, standing higher than usual to hint at the newcomer's status of higher rank before giving it away outright. "S-Sir?!"
"Right on time." Novus cogitated in satisfaction, the high-ranking Netwatch officer peering at him before grabbing the parchment from the air, reading line by line before peering up, voice not even concealed.
"You want... Bryce Mosley to oversee?" The agent asked, his accent similar to that of a Cadian.
"Indeed." Novus nodded, "I've added the server domain in which we met, so you shall know which agent I seek."
The agent further reviewed, the negotiator standing there, simply stunned as the procession took place before them.
"Primarily, I am to be given complete autonomy, as well as immunity from Netwatch scrutiny. In return, I may be inclined to... part with the occasional lost schematic that benefits your organization, and to help assist with our common foes. Bryce Mosley is a further added show of goodwill, that you are allowed an agent to oversee my progress in reclaiming the Old Net, an agent of my choosing of course."
The Netwatch agent slowly nodded.
And then compiled a pen, simply signing it right there and then.
"Done."
Novus clasped his hands together. "Excellent. A 'pleasure doing business', I believe the phrase goes." He then turned to disconnect, but not before peering one last time. "We shall remain in touch, praise the Omnissiah." Black boxes enveloped his form before disappearing, the Infiltrator decompiling, leaving the two agents.
A few moments passed before the interrogator turned to their superior, their communication modulator being deactivated to reveal her true voice.
"Upper management is just going to let him go!?"
The operations manager turned to her as he helped reboot one of the agents, allowing the agent to recover as their Icon slowly rose from the floor.
"We had no choice." He simply answered.
"No choice, what are you saying?" She then paused, "Wait, you're interfaced on LAN? I thought you were in London, when did you-"
"Half an hour by plane, took me longer by taxi from the Air Space Center, traffic here is absolute shite." He looked at her, explaining. "I'm currently in the lobby, jacked into the secretaries cybermodem. We tried contacting you, but it obviously didn't work."
Her Icon was still, her manager revealing the reason.
"When the meeting started, there was a DDoS attack on our servers, one on a scale we've never seen before. We tried everything; tried blocking it, tried rerouting it, tried tracking the botnets and shut them down at the source, only to realize it was just one, and whatever it was, it was big, massive." The manager shook his head, Icon following his gesture, "And it was inflicting absolute bedlam, damage control estimated zettabytes of traffic were somehow being pumped into our network, and our entire communication servers went bollocks-up. We had no way of contacting our other branches, or even connecting to the Net itself, which was why I had to fly here." His seethed. "Even when I strapped in, it took me 10 minutes trying to connect and join this server. Ihara-Grubb algorithms might as well have been turned into fucking Everest with how hard it was."
"And Tech-Priest was responsible for holding our servers hostage?"
She was bombarded with a slew of messages as if on cue, indicating that their communication server was back online. "I suppose that answers the question." He said with a snort, "Bryce... as much as a wanker he is, was absolutely right."
She turned to where Novus was, pausing. "... Who the fuck is this guy? The next Rache Bartmoss?"
"No. Worse." The manager simply replied.
There was a moment of silence before the agent picked up the data slab that had been left behind, "So why the hell did he even bother making his own company if he was just going to strongarm us into signing it anyways? Was it really just for legality?"
"... Thankfully, you'd make a bad corpo." The manager spoke with a hint of bitter mirth before opening a tab, showing an index of private companies, filtering through them before coming to a stop for a particular one. "It's no secret that we're sponsored by big corporations, and... we let them get away with worse than murder. Small corporations typically act above the law but can at least be indicted, whereas the 'successful' corporations are completely untouchable, allowed to do whatever the bloody hell they want as long as it mostly stays in the business sector."
He then tapped the listing of Admech, emphasizing the global Netwatch logo beside the name, one of the few given to other big names such as Arasaka and Militech, implemented after the signing.
Netwatch approved!
"We just made Admech a very successful corporation."
Status: Running
CPU: 99.9%
Memory: ERROR
Disk: ERROR
Network: ERROR
End task
Novus selected the option before disconnecting the now steaming mechadendrite. Hurriedly, he opened the panels to allow the cooling air to easily enter, having moved the dataterm outside, setting it up within a circle of fans and wires.
The ritual had almost proven too much for the Machine Spirit within... and for him as well. Had he been interfaced any longer, the strain would have fried his cogitators. And it showed, the surroundings filled with light refractions from the sheer overheat of running the program. But it was finished now, which meant the Machine Spirit within could finally breathe a sigh of relief, Novus placing his bionic arm over it in thanks as he bowed his head, feeling his metal digits rapidly begin to radiate heat.
It would be a while before he could even think about performing such a maneuver again.
"So uh-"
Novus turned his head to Keith, the scrap trader sitting a distance away on a sunchair.
"Did it work?"
The Tech-Priest nodded, "As expected. You may check the market listings to see for yourself."
Keith's eyes flashed before he whistled, "Yep, I see it alright!" He then laughed, "You're up there with the big ones, and you're not even a public mega-corp!" His laughter died down, "Ah, that's too funny. Never thought I'd see a private start-up gain virtual mega-corp status in a single hour." Keith shook his head, "Though it's a damn shame that you decided to go private, I would have absolutely invested in ya."
"While I would not object if you placed funds into my temple, the same could not be said for many, many others." The Tech-Priest frowned, "Worse yet if they believed that they are entitled ownership, simply because they possess a majority of my 'stocks'." Novus balled a metal fist. "I would have them destroyed, no one is to take what rightfully belongs to the Machine God!"
"We went over this, Novus. You can't just-" Keith trailed off with a deadpanned look before shrugging, smiling. "Well... glad to know you think highly of lil' ol' me at least." His eyes then blinked, checking the market. "Hey, listen, it was fun helping ya make your own start-up to fuck over a few mega-corps, but aren't ya a lil'... exposed now? Arasaka and Militech are now gonna start asking questions, then they're gonna start acting." He tilted his head, "You think you can handle being in their sights?"
"While Militech is yet to be dealt with." He turned his head to Keith, "Arasaka will take much time to deliberate and consider before stepping a foot into the Omnissiah's temple. Speaking of which-" He moved on, "I am to prepare the installation of the forge."
Keith tilted his head in confusion at the ambiguous statement as Novus disappeared into the manufactorum, the man pausing before turning back to retrieve one of his fans.
He flinched upon touching it.
"Ow! Hot!"
Servitor-1 lumbered into view, scaring the dealer once again as the cyborg picked up the burning hot equipment without a singular hassle, pallid skin sizzling as the metal rested against the remains of his exposed chest.
"So, explain this to me, Douglas, and let me know if I'm getting anything wrong."
The red-haired corporate stood at the window, staring out to the city from Arasaka Tower, military-grade optics narrowed.
"About an hour ago, 2:00pm, Netwatch servers take an absolute nose dive. Services get suspended, business calls just stop, no corporation knows what the hell is going on." She crossed her arms, "Then, about an hour later, it's back up with no issues whatsoever... except-"
A screen opened atop the table, showing a lineup of companies... and just below the mega-corps was a new name with a Netwatch logo assigned to it.
"Now on the private sector, with Netwatch approval, is a random, previously unheard of start-up called Admech." She turned to look at him, "Nobody knows what Admech does, not even a goddamn purpose statement, only that it just suddenly exists and is listed among the corporate giants, corporate giants like us." She then sat on the side of the table, leaning against it. "And to add to it, our stocks have taken a minuscule, but noticeable decline, regarding our new top-of-the-line combat robots after this-" The screen changed, showing a mysterious red figure bisecting the unfortunate machine. "-robed fuck trounced them on live news stream. So give me an idea, Douglas, am I grasping at straws?"
She looked at him.
"Or is this all somehow connected?"
Douglas paused for a moment, his facade calm and stern as his optic visor peered forward, yet struggling to find the right words. Luckily, it seemed the question was rhetorical as she continued.
"But upper doesn't really care if it's connected or not, or what you or I think, only that they want us to do what's on the stacked order, and it just so happens that this Omnissiah's got tech that R&D are frothing at the mouth for, and undoubtedly, our competitors as well." She fast-forwarded the footage, showing bullets stop short of the glowing field around the robed figure before popping into nothingness. "An honest to god deflector shield. Either the Trekkies have finally figured out a way to create their greatest nerd fantasy, or a corporation is somehow light years ahead of not just the business sector, but the entire human race." She sneered, "And no, I don't think it's the Soviets."
"But you think it's Admech, Kate." Douglas surmised.
She snorted, "Don't put words in my mouth..." She looked up, "But it sure does add to the mystery, doesn't it? Luckily, we got the right tools for the job."
The elevator dinged, Douglas turning around as Kate smiled.
"Ah, speak of the devil."
Douglas froze up at the sound of loud stomps, an immense figure towering behind him. His instincts carrolled him to the side, just as the gigantic metal figure walked past him, red unblinking eyes focused onto the screen on the table... of the robed figure frozen in time during his fight with the robots.
A single, heavily modulated voice, not even remotely human, demanded.
"Keep playing it."
Kate wisely did so, the video progressing at its normal rate, showing full footage of the fight as the two corporates left from the table area, moving to the couches to watch at the sidelines, the hulking and monstrous cyborg simply transfixed to the holographic screen.
"A-"
Douglas coughed, switching to neural communication.
"Adam Smasher?"
Kate smirked, "Yep. He's developed a little... obsession over our mystery Omnissiah." She explained, peering at the heavily armored monster. "R&D's willing to send over some new equipment after analyzing the video, it's all theoretical, but it's a good excuse to bring the most dangerous shit we have out onto the field."
"And when's this going down?" Douglas asked.
"Soon, once we start sending our forces into Watson and-" She stopped. "Wait, hold on. Getting a call." Kate paused for a moment before her body language visibly trembled, not of fear, Douglas recognized, but of barely restrained rage.
Turning, Kate activated a button on the small table, showing the top news article that was trending.
"... How the fuck did this get out." Kate seethed vocally, Douglas reading the title. "Because not only do we have a clear breach, but we've just got shot in the foot."
Arasaka, today's MegaCorp, yesterday's kidnappers? A leaked scandal to silence Tsunami Defense Systems... and Trauma Team International.
As the two corporates grimaced, the cyborg simply stood at the table, replaying the fighting scene over and over again.
The whims and wiles of the corporate world were all but noise to him.
For Adam Smasher analyzed his next target, a kindred construct he anticipated with deranged want.
The server domain of Netwatch had become a digital ground zero.
Once meticulously designed with powerful defensive Black ICE programs, their codes and programs had been figuratively and literally stomped, Ihara-Grubb transformation algorithms depicting gigantic city block-sized craters across the landscape both from unknown weaponized algorithms... and footsteps.
And it led a trail all the way to the ever-spanning data walls of their communication networks, invaluable data fortresses that had been absolutely decimated in the attack, their 'offices' and 'storages' torn apart and reduced to polygraphic rubble. At the moment, a number of agents inspected the damage, while a few bare Icons, non-combat coders and programmers repaired the damage, rewriting and reimplementing their software.
Yet the agents failed to notice a lone figure, sitting upon the tip-top spike from the edge of a crater.
Their Icon was peculiar, with pink neon skin and a lithe body, addled with feline-esque features, including a tail that rested off the side and wide ear-flaps, but dangerous claws of active Black ICE. Their head was a helmet, digitalized and polygonal, a simplistic depiction of a mouthless cat with narrowed eyes and straight whiskers, which was made even more evident upon their next action, a section of the helmet becoming undone to reveal it.
Kaleidoscope eyes.
She inspected the aftermath, head following the origin of those giant steps before turning, helmet reconfiguring to its narrow-eyed facade as she quietly disconnected.
Urged to seek the source.
