Nova left the building just as the resistance’s Peace Corps were making their way in. Darting down a back alley of Argyl-3 she pulled her jacket around her and zipped the front up. It was a cooler day, like most in the outer rim. Even with two suns the planet was no match for the cold nights. The Blackwall Event that took out most of the galaxy's cybernetics had also affected many planets electrical grids and portal accesses. Now the only way from planet to planet was to take a shuttle… and those were expensive.
Nova hurried a bit faster now, gunshots rang out from the Shing Co. building. The hack had sent AI controlled sentinels wild, she was lucky to escape unscathed. Though sentinels were nothing compared to what some that came from the inner core say they’ve seen.
Nova stopped just as rain started to fall. Lifting the hood of her jacket up she gave a quick flick of her wrist, bringing up the system that connected her cybernetics to the nexus force that allowed people to use… whatever it was that let them hack, and move things with their mind and all sorts of sorcery.
OS: Level One
Eidolon Core (_Iron_)
Title: None
Skills: (Locked)
Stats: (Locked)
Specials: (Locked)
Library:
Zippe.de (0)
Other…
“Damn, out of everything…” She whispered under her breath. Closing the OS she continued her walk.
Out of all the planets Nova had been on, Argyl-3 had to be at the bottom of the barrel. Its neverending fog made the planet look more ominous than it really was. Large cities loomed around every Transpo spot, yet almost every single one was vacated. Vines had started taking over the skyscrapers, and most larger cities would light up at night with the sights and sounds of AI fueled androids patrolling the roads.
She passed by dead bodies on her way to the Transpo, dwarves, ixiari, other humans like herself. Rats chewing on corpses of a battle that must have taken place not long ago. Her boots crunch over broken glass and pools of stagnant water as she moves, each step careful, deliberate. She avoids the corpses, though it’s impossible not to notice them. A half-burnt body slumped against a wall still grips a makeshift blaster in its charred hands, its melted features a stark warning.
Her breath quickens as she passes a crumpled Corporate AI mech, its metal limbs twitching feebly, sparks sputtering from its cracked torso. She keeps her head low, her silvery hair tucked away, blending into the shadows cast by the shattered city.
Occasionally, she hears the distant roar of wildlife: creatures that have claimed Argyl-3 as their own. From the corner of her eye, she spots a hulking, quadrupedal predator, its fur slick and matted, crouching over the remains of a fallen soldier. It lifts its head to sniff the air, yellow eyes glowing faintly, but Nova ducked behind a wrecked vehicle before it could spot her.
Resistance fighters were all kinds of people and almost every race, regardless of class had taken up arms against what the Resistance higher ups called “The Thanatos Matrix”, a mouthful if you ask me. Most just called it the AI. Here many of them were, lying dead in the streets from a battle that had already been forgotten.
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The Transpo hub is barely functional, a skeletal structure of girders and crumbling platforms. Ships hover in the distance, engines rumbling ominously, waiting for passengers or cargo. The few working terminals flicker with static-filled messages, and a line of desperate travelers clogs the entrances, their faces weary and hollow. A Resistance Officer blocks the main entry, scanning the faces of the crowd. His armor is cobbled together from scraps of old Corporate tech, his face scarred but stern. Nova approaches cautiously, she places a hand in her pocket over the dataslate, trying to blend into the chaos of the crowd. The officer’s voice cuts through the noise as he argues with a merchant blocking the loading dock.
The Merchant slams a datapad down on the table before the Officer, “You think I’ll just let you commandeer my ship for free? Do I look like charity to you?”
The Officer looked down his nose at the man, “Do you see what’s happening out there? We don’t have time for haggling. Either you help the cause, or you’re walking out of here with nothing but that datapad and regret.”
“Ha, You Resistance types are no better than the Corps. At least they pay,” then the Merchant turned, gave Nova a quick glance and mumbled something as he left.
Nova stepped in behind the merchant, then: “Hold it. Ship’s full. Resistance personnel only,” the Officer said, holding his arm out in front of her.
“Guess that’s why I’m standing here, isn’t it? Trying to help your cause.”
The officer crossed his arms, “You don’t look like one of us. What unit are you with?”
Nova smirked, “The invisible kind. You know how it is. The best work is done in the shadows.”
He glared at her unblinkingly, “Don’t play games with me. I’ve got a city in flames behind me and a ship packed with refugees and fighters. If you’re lying, I’ll toss you to the Corps myself.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s cut the theatrics. I’ve got something you want. Something that’s worth more than one extra body on your ship.”
The officer didn’t budge, “Unless it’s the codes to blow the AI to dust, I’m not interested.”
Nova pulled her hand out of her jacket, her voice low but sharp, “This slate is loaded with corporate intel. Cybernetics manifests, troop movements, access codes for their lower-grade security systems. Enough to give your people the edge for months. You let me on that ship, and it’s yours.”
The officer tilted his head up, pointing his chin at the dataslate, then paused: his eyes darting to the dataslate, then back to her.
“Corporate intel, huh? Funny how someone like you just happens to be carrying that around. The resistance just happened to raid a Corporate building for something just like that not too long ago… found one of their best hackers dead.”
Nova shrugged, “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” an innocent smile walked across her face, “I’m just a girl trying to get off this rock before the Corps turns it into a graveyard,” she stepped closer to him then, “Wouldn’t you like a little promotion? Being a bouncer isn’t really what you want is it?”
She knew she had him when his face agreed, then: “How do I know it’s not fake? Or worse—a trap?”
Nova locked eyes with him, inflecting her voice to a slightly higher pitch, “You don’t. But I know what I’m holding, and I’m not dumb enough to walk into a Resistance checkpoint with bad data.”
The officer hesitated for a moment, then a sly smile found its way to his lips, “What’s stopping me from taking the slate and leaving you behind?”
Nova smiled back, her voice dropping to a dangerous edge, “Because if I don’t walk onto that ship, the encryption doesn’t come off. And trust me, without the passcode,” she poked his chest, “You’ll just keep being a useless. Ship. Bouncer.”
He swallowed quickly, relenting, “Fine. But you breathe wrong, and you’re off this ship the hard way.”
Nova gave him a sweet smile, “A pleasure, Officer.” She handed him the thin black dataslate and moved past him towards the ship.
Nova glances back at the officer, who’s already flipping through the dataslate connected to a small screen. He doesn’t see her faint smirk as she vanishes into the crowded interior, blending seamlessly with the other passengers. The data she gave him is real—just not the slate's most valuable secrets. Those remain locked in her head, where no one can touch them.