Tso leaned back, fingers unconsciously stretching beneath
his tipless gloves. Digital lines of the
Solarnet peeled away from his vision finally as he de-jacked. The Solarnet here was not encrypted
particularly well, and he’d found what he’d needed with relative ease. Listings of work, job offers and ticket
numbers danced across the console. He’d
done a little bit of background work on a few, but the pile was largely
untouched.
Splicing security channels he listened to the network
chatter for a while, before taking a tour of hardlines and protocols that was
decidedly…less on the legal side. Never
hurt to be in tune with the locals though.
The static of chatter continued as he stood up and stretched out his
legs. His bunk room was shared with
Hernando, although near as he could tell the Navy tended to spend more time in
the engine room and the bridge. Their
room was impeccably clean except for the shared workstation table, scattered
over with mechanical parts and machine scrap on one end, and synth-plastic
wrapped electronics on the other. Tso
was building a spare arm-comp on his own time with scavenged parts, although he’d
need to hit up a real hi-tech city for some odds and ends soon if it was to
keep progressing.
Snapping a micro-com into his ear and extending the mic down
to rest alongside his neck, he activated it and synced it to his main comp with
a flick over the sensory-damper. “Guin,”
he addressed the name for his secret AI, “Update messages.”
The comp whirred and data coalesced while the AI processed
his request. Idly he bit into the last
third of a protein-bar ration, but found it decidedly dry and
cardboard-like. He’d head to the galley
when this was done.
“One unread message, Tso.”
“Show me.”
The screen filled with encrypted gack, some mishmash of
pseudo-Algerian and Cyrillic characters. Tso’s eyes narrowed, he hadn’t used
that cipher in years.
“Decrypt, use the D-448 package. And de-sync from the Solarnet before you
start.” He waited, noting that the Solarnet modem lights abruptly shut off. Idly Tso pulled a fresh cig from his worn
leather and silver case. He didn’t light
it in the bunk room, out of respect for Hernando, but tucked it behind his left
right ear, opposite the micro-com.
“Message decrypted.” Intoned Guin.
“Read it.”
And a voice he hadn’t heard in years began, “Well, isn’t
this a surprise…”
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