Chapter 3
Pumped up and energetic following how well-received your gift is, you immediately get to work with another one of your coding projects-- Quick-Hacks. Specifically, home-brewed Quick-Hacks.
You have an understanding of what this world's coding can do, and you know first-hand the internals that go into a Quick-Hack. But it could be better, made more efficient and more potent in their functions. You know how Quick-Hacks in NC work-- by fooling the security systems of the chrome they're trying to infiltrate and then forcing them to go haywire.
There's several ways for how you can streamline and make this process better. But you lack the necessary experience to make it happen.
Thankfully, you know someone who does.
"Kiwi!" you call out to her. "Can you help me with something? I promise it's nothing bad!"
Kiwi's experience is invaluable to your work, allowing you to see errors you couldn't have earlier-- mainly RAM issues and cooldown for Quick-Hack use.
Because Quick-Hacks can't just be spammed, not unless you have multiple copies of the Quick-Hack to spam. Each one used takes time to access into the targeted chrome, do their thing, get out, and self-diagnose for any errors or counter-hack programs before getting ready to use again.
That's where the RAM issues come in, as they use RAM to do all those things. The more RAM you have, the quicker the cool-down and use periods become.
You've already streamlined Quick-Hacks before, you can do it again. And with Kiwi by your side, she's able to pick out all the unnecessary lines of code that you can snip off before adding more efficient lines-- allowing you to make it more potent while decreasing the amount of RAM it uses by a quarter.
This, paired with the equipment you have, allows you to effectively match Corpo-tier equipment too. It's a much greater step up compared to what your initial projections place.
"…shit." you sigh as Kiwi marvels at what you've accomplished.
"What's the matter, Pete?" she asks, glancing between you and the dataslte where your latest invention lays. "You sound frustrated."
"I am. I saw a few things that I could've streamlined and made better. Coding from the function subroutine and the self-diagnostic parts." you shake your head. "If I removed most of the code, I could've made it better."
She stares at you.
"No, really, I could have." you insist. "See, here? These lines? I could take al 30 of them out and replace them with just 5 that does the same thing, but--"
(created ParkerTech Quick-Hacks MK.1 Series, unlocked new Personal action, increased revenue potential from Small Gigs, increased effectiveness of Quick-Hacks)
Kiwi hugs you and tells you that you're a big gonk before telling you to put your brain to use on something much… simpler while she goes and tests out your Quick-Hacks on something.
So you do. You pull out a dataslate and browse the NET for whatever information you could get about guns in general.
You get plenty. Turns out, NC has a big population of gun enthusiasts who are eager to accept another into their ranks. Well, jokes on them-- you're just using them for their information and leaving them high and dry afterwards.
And what information you get.
Guns are, in truth, just high-tech slingshots. Their mechanisms are about as perfect as they could possibly now, with the ammunition and attachments that make them better-- if only marginally. Enough to mean the difference between life and death, even.
Different sights lets the normal un-chromed choom to pick targets at range or see in the dark. Some sights can even be linked to the choom's vision chrome, allowing for greater accuracy or even aiming around corners without risking your head.
Ammunition types also come into play, with some bullet times being effective against different targets-- some chunk up meat better, some disable chrome outright, and some punch through cover outright. Hell, just this year, Kang Tao made 'smart guns'; guns that shoot homing bullets, though they lack the punch and penetration power of conventional ammo-- trading stopping power for the homing ability.
Which… has you puzzled. Why couldn't they just put homing abilities on ammo with high stopping power outright? What was stopping them?
After all, your world could do that. You remember some supervillains having bullets that tracked targets and damn near negated most conventional cover.
…huh. Maybe that's an idea to look into…
(gained basic knowledge on firearm ammunition and firearm attachments, unlocked new Science actions)
Riding off the high of your newfound discovery of the diverse world of guns, you turn your attention to chrome.
One of the main draws of this world-- the proliferation of various cybernetic parts. Arms and legs, eyes and ears, neural interfaces and sub-dermal armor; anything you could possibly imagine is here and what isn't is probably under development as you speak.
It makes sense that you would want a piece of that market, especially considering your specialization in all things tech. But you were nervous, and wanted to make doubly sure you covered all your bases. You delayed as you studied and studied, increasing the depth of your knowledge.
No longer.
"Kiwi." you ask your guardian. "Do you know a place I can get outdated chrome? Doesn't matter what kind, I just need a supplier."
"Well, I've got a few jobs coming up with some gonks that need zeroing." she shrugs. "I can get them for you for cheap."
"Great. Thanks." you beam. "I think it's time I got to work putting myself out there. For real, this time."
You get to work with your plans, channeling ambition into energy and purpose that you use to tinker.
Kiwi brings you limbs from her jobs-- cyber limbs taken off of the piles of scavenged stuff dead or looted from their dead owners. A look from you has Kiwi chuckling.
"Scavs."
"Ah. Okay, that's much better."
You get to work on the limbs with gusto, taking them apart and making them better. Unnecessary bits are removed, systems are streamlined, and software is modified to be less inefficient and less hostile to chrome from different corpos. Redundancies are put in place in the event of damage, so the cyberlimbs can continue working even if they're shot to hell.
Arms and legs are your primary focus for the time being. Optics and more complex chrome… you're not confident in your ability to not fuck it up. Not yet. You've only ever worked on cyberlimbs, with specialist chrome being covered by theoreticals-- no way you'd touch that right now.
When you're done, the cyberlimbs you make are all uniform in looks and design-- with ports that allow them to be easily plugged into whatever brand limb socket the buyer previously bought.
They are modular, with space within to fit custom add-ons and weapons or used as storage for emergency weapons and equipment. They perform at a better base level than most street-quality chrome limbs, and most importantly, are much better at interfacing with the user's neural system.
You've designed the programming specifically to avoid causing neural damage to the user, or at least damage them as little as possible-- thus greatly minimizing the risk of anyone using it going cyberpsycho.
Satisfied, you get to work on the most important detail-- your brand logo. So everyone would know that these new cyberlimbs were your work.
"Perfect." you purr, satisfied. "Now we can begin."
(created ParkerTech Cyberarm MK.1 and ParkerTech Cyberleg MK.1, unlocked new Small Gig, unlocked new Personal actions, unlocked new Science actions)
Sasha DMs you a location and reminds you about your meet up. Figuring this could be a chance to get your name out there, you borrow a bag from Kiwi, load up your stuff, and head out.
She's chosen a nice, secluded rooftop on the southwest area in Watson. It's quite the distance away, but you have public transportation and all the energy of an eager teenager so traveling it no issue.
You arrive at the building and scale the fire escape. At the top, you find Sasha already waiting, looking out at the Watson skyline… or maybe browsing through the Net through her internally installed chrome. You frown at that, but shrug it off. It's not your place to tell people what to do with their bodies.
"Sasha! Hey!" you greet. "Sorry I'm late. Didn't keep you waiting long, did I?"
'Not at all. Just been sitting here for a few minutes.' is her reply. Then she turns to you and sees the bag you have. She gawks. 'Holy shit choom, what's in that bag you're carrying?'
"My stuff!" you beam. "I told you I make chrome on the side! Well, more like improve it, but same thing."
'It's not the same thing in the least.' she types back, but her eyes are drawn to the bag slung over your shoulder. 'How heavy is that?'
"Eh, it's not too heavy. I work out." you shrug, putting the bag down. "So, you wanted to see what I got, yeah?"
'Yeah, but now I'm kinda nervous.' Sasha replies as you rummage through your bag. 'Just what's in that thing?'
"Oh, you're about to see." you grin, whipping out your stuff.
You present her with the fruits of your labors-- the Spyderdeck and its two variants, the Spiderbots and their three variants, and finally the cyberlimbs.
She looks them all over with wide eyes, amazed even as she examines your work using her own installed chrome as well as her intuition. The spiderbots light up as she connects with them, and she giggles as she has them do a little jig. You outright laugh.
She picks up the Spyderdecks and plugs into them, her eyes lighting up metaphorically and physically as she interfaces with the built-in program.
'What's this… Webslinger MK.1 Quick-Hack, Pete?' she messages you.
"Ah crap, that's on? I thought I made sure to delete that." you wince. "Well, its… you know what a Daemon is, right?"
Her head snaps to you, fear and panic rising.
"I-It's not a Daemon! I'm not that stupid!" you assure her. "That's a… well, it's more like a proto-Daemon. That Quick-Hack cues up multiple normal Quick-Hacks and deploys them in a set order through a local NET. If it can breach a gonk's ICE, the Quick-Hack it's cued up will be deployed."
Sasha stares at you, then unplugs the Spyderdeck from her neck. She picks up another one, and looks at them.
'Why are these two differently colored?' she queries.
"Oh, the black one is disposable. Three uses and it self-destructs." you tell her. "The red one is more for repeated use."
She plugs the Red Web Spyderdeck and blinks.
'This one is better than the black one.' she texts you.
"Ah, right, the Red Web Spyderdeck has 20% better performance than the Black Web-- the disposable one." you nod.
Sasha winds up testing each one of the Spiderbots and relays her feedback.
'They're perfect. The size and weight alone is better than what the Corpos put out, and this isn't even the best version.' she gushes to you. 'Pete, you're a genius. I mean it 100%-- you're a genuine genius.'
"I-I get that being able to tinker up these things is great, but--" you start, but Sasha blurs into your personal space and puts a finger on your lips. "Mmph?!"
'You're selling yourself short, Pete. If you can make these babies now, who knows what bullshit you can make in a few more years?' Sasha grins at you. 'You're defo someone to keep an eye on.'
"…I-I'll take your word for it, then." you nod, a little pleased.
'You should. My word is the best in NC.' she nods. 'So, what're the prices for the Spyderdecks and the bots?'
The purchase goes along smoothly, with Sasha even telling you to price it a little higher since it's actually quality stuff and going cheap would have people think there's something wrong with it for the prices to be so low.
In the end, she walks away happy with 3 Peacocks, 1 Weaver, 1 Naked Tarantula, and 3 Red and Black Web Spyderdecks each. You, on the other hand, head back to Kiwi's place with a heavier chip, loaded with your own earnings.
…you think this lifestyle will be very lucrative from this point on, moreso as you keep working on it and making things better.
(gain 3275 Money, reputation increased)
This week sees you with 2 revelations. You need to move out of Kiwi's place to keep tinkering, and you need more money to do that.
So you brace yourself to do the thing everyone does to get by-- work.
You get a message from Vik, telling you about needing an assistant for a busy day at work. You readily accept, not seeing a reason to decline and all the reason to earn that dosh.
And it's a good thing Vik called you in, because there's a ton of customers and Vik is short-handed working all alone. You step in and man the metaphorical register while Vik himself does his ripperdoc thing.
Together, with you running diagnostic checks on the newly installed chrome and the taking the money while Vik does the work of putting the chrome into people, both of you are able to finish the day's influx of chooms looking to better themselves to try and make it big.
You snort internally. You doubt half of these chooms would last that long. And isn't that a big shame, that so many lives would be lost?
A few hours later, the last choom walks out of the shop happy with his new chrome-- leaving Vik much richer for his services.
"Thanks a mil, Pete. Wouldn't have been able to get through all of 'em without you." he chuckles as the two of you sit down near Misty's Esoterica, sipping beer. "You're getting a raise for this. Promise."
"Hey, it's the least I could do for you." you chuckle. "You took a chance on a bennie wandering in one day, and here I am proving your choice right. Good deeds get rewards, right?"
"Normally, I'd laugh. Good deeds being rewarded? In NC?" Vik snorts. "Yeah, right. But hey, nothing wrong in wanting stuff right?"
"Right." you raise your can. "To better days, Vik."
He laughs and toasts your can.
"How's the flashlight working out for you, Vik?" you ask.
"Oh it's working great. Had people ask about it a few times. Some even wondered if it was a robot in disguise or something." he grins. "I've always been cryptic about it, though. Figured I'd let their imagination fill in the blanks. The looks on their faces is super fuckin' funny."
"Hah! You know, I can make that thing into an actual self-defense drone right now-- make it so that it can protect you in case anyone tries anything bad." you offer, grinning.
"Haha! You little…!" Vik laughs, then he sees the glint in your eye. "You're serious."
"100 percent." you grin wider. "I can do it right now, so you can see for yourself. I'll need some parts though."
"Got plenty of 'em just laying around, use what you need." he shrugs. "I'm more impressed that you're saying you can do it."
"You saw me put it together out of scrap, though." you snort, downing the rest of your can. "It shouldn't be too big of a leap to say I can make it into a literal robot with a little more time and parts."
"Those are fighting words." he grins, downing the rest of his own beer. "Alright then boyo, back up that claim."
"Gladly." you laugh, moving after him into his shop.
You move to a spare table in the shop, grab the nearest piece of junk and put it together. Experience from your previous efforts to build similar spider robots comes to the forefront of your thoughts, and you follow through with the schematics that are in your mind.
But it's not all smooth sailing. While your body moves to put together a standard Spiderbot, your mind wants to change it a little-- make it unique to Vik and Vik alone.
A spiderbot that could protect him while remaining inconspicuous as the flashlight that it used to be. It comes to your mind-- a Spiderbot with a flashlight-lamp abdomen, a gun for self-defense, and razor-sharp spikes attached to the tips of its legs for close-range kills.
But that mixes up with your body's movement in following the schematics for a standard spiderbot. And that has you make an… abomination.
It looks less like a spiderbot and more a mutant hybrid of spider, robot, lamp, and gun with razor sharp spikes in place of legs. Even Vik looks at in horror and levels a horrified look at you.
"…gimme a second." you take it apart.
Now focused and not wanting to mess up (again), you build a proper Spiderbot in half the time before setting it in front of ripperdoc.
"Whoa…" Vik offers a hand and the spiderbot scurries on, climbing his arm and settling on his shoulder. "Pete, this is…"
"A Spiderbot. Been making standardized copies to sell." you tell him, proud. "That's a special model, just for you-- comes equipped with a gun in the thorax, a light source in the abdomen, and largely looks no different than the original flashlight spider. Well, unless someone looks too close."
Vik stares at you.
"Oh, and you can even control it if you have a comms jack." you tell him. "And you can lock it to your signal, so no-one can just take it over."
"…you can make more like this?" he asks you.
"Sure can." you chuckle, a little. "So… I might have some things for you take a look at and get your opinion on."
"Let me see." he almost demands. "If you going to want to sell something like this, then someone's gotta make sure they're good enough to not get you in trouble from gonks and yonos with short fuses."
You comply easily, and show him your new products. You tell him you're saving up for a place of your own as well, to hopefully open up new avenues of production and to continue your personal research.
From your bag (that you borrowed from Kiwi), you bring out blueprints for the Spiderwar (the products themselves too big to fit without arousing suspicion) or some example pieces-- one each of the Peacock, Weaver, and Naked Tarantula Spiderbot models as well as your Spyderdecks.
Vik marvels at the robots you've made, and is floored by the Spyderdecks you've built. But what really holds his attention are the ParkerTech cyberlimb schematics-- which you've gone on to refer to as Spiderware.
He is… speechless.
"…you made these, Pete?" he asks.
"Yup. All of 'em." you nod. "The Spiderbots, the Spyderdecks, the Spiderware… all of it by me. Used spare parts and streamlined old chrome for it, but I think it came out alright."
"Alright? Pete, these aren't just 'alright'. The performance values on these things--" he swallows. "They rival the stuff the Corpos put out. Pete, you're making Corpo-level chrome!"
"…is," you blink. "Is that a big deal? I've been making 'Corpo'-tier stuff for a while now, I don't see how it's something worth making a fuss over."
Vik stares at you.
"These aren't my first attempts. They're improvements and/or variants to stuff I made before." you tell him. "Moreover, this is me just taking old corpo stuff and making it better-- updating the programming, lessening conflict issues between different chrome brands, and taking of extra weight."
Vik works his mouth, but no words come out. You get worried.
"Vik? You okay?" you ask, concerned. "C'mon choom, say something."
"I-I… Sorry Pete, I just--" he sighs, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "Okay, so, let get this straight; you've been taking old outdated chrome, bringing them to your place, and turning them into… this?"
He gestures at your handiwork. You nod. He stares at you again.
"All of them?" he presses. "The limbs, the cyberdeck, and the spider… bots?"
"Well, okay, not all of them." you admit. Vik sighs. "The Spiderbots I made myself using junk and spare parts. The first model was a little crude, but I was able to make improvements as I learned to downsize parts and make custom parts myself." you rub your chin. "I've been meaning to do more, but K-- err, the roommate that took me in is a little… restrictive. Her place is too small for a workshop or lab, y'see."
"…lab?" he gawks.
"Yeah, lab. Been thinking about getting into chems and biology for a while, but no space means no science." you nod again. "I'll probably need to move out or something and then get the tools…"
Vik stares at you for a long, long moment before heaving a heavy sigh and rubbing his eyes.
"How much do you need?" he asks.
"Wha--" you stammer. "N-No! Vik, I can't just--"
"Pete, you're just starting out as a techie and already you're making stuff that rivals low-tier Corpo stuff." Vik shows you the Black Web Spyderdeck. "This thing alone would go for 2500 Eddies by itself."
"…but that's the disposable model." you swallow.
"I know." he shows you the Red Web. "This would 6000, maybe even 8000 if it comes with the Quick-Hacks you've installed on it."
You stare at him, and laughs humorlessly.
"You are making treasure out of junk, Pete." he tells you. "When word gets out that you're capable of this, people will come looking for you. They will want you to put your talents to use for their interests. And they won't take no for an answer."
"I… I got that from my roommate too." you swallow. "Am I that valuable?"
"Yes." Vik tells you without any hesitation. "You're smart enough to turn street chrome into low-tier Corpo stuff, on top of making your own stuff that's impressive on it's own right."
He set the Spyderdecks down and chuckles breathlessly. You find yourself chuckling with him, though not necessarily for the same reasons.
"If you're allowed to grow, you could become another living legend in NC Pete." Vik tells you. "Hell, maybe you'd be able to make your own Corpo and compete with Arasaka or Militech in the big leagues."
"…I could?" you ask with growing trepidation. Vik nods. "I… yeah, I guess I could. I just… I just need to work at it and keep my head low."
"That's a start. And I'll be damned if I miss out on an opportunity like this." Vik tells you. "Pete. Let me sell your chrome. Whatever you're comfortable with, I'll take 'em and sell 'em to get your name out there."
"But you just said--"
"Not out there out there! Like, just enough for people to understand that there's a new kid on the block." he nods. "So? What do you say?"
…
"Can I even say no?" you laugh a little, still not believing your luck. "Like… i-isn't this some kind of big break that people in NC can only dream of?"
"It is, and I know you might think this is a big dream." Vik nods. "But I promise you Pete, I mean every word. I'll take what chrome you make and sell it at the prices I quote. They'll go like hotcakes, and I'll give you the profits after taking a 10% cut."
"15%." you tell him. "I won't accept anything less."
"Pete, it's your stuff-- I'm just the seller and middle man." the older man tells you. "Moreover, you need to money to get the resources to make more chrome and expand."
"And you need the eddies to keep your shop in business." you tell him. "Even if it's my stuff, I can't let one of the few people I trust to sell my stuff to go out of business out of greed. You get a fair cut too or this deal isn't happening."
"I'm a ripperdoc, Pete; that's one of the more stable jobs in NC." he tells you. "You don't need to worry about little old me."
"And I won't be known as the techie that forces rippderdocs to sell his stuff for practically free." you counter. "Imagine the kind of rep I'd get with that, and how difficult it'll be to get other rippderdocs to sell my stuff…"
"I… t-that's fair." Vik says. "Alright, fine-- I'll take a 15% cut of the profits from the sale of your cyberware."
"Spyderware." you grin. Vik laughs.
"Right. Spyderware." he shakes his head. "You're really leaning into the whole spider theme, aren'tcha Pete?"
"It's a good theme." laugh back, offering a hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Vik."
"The pleasure's all mine." he shakes you hand, grinning.
Viktor Vektor agrees to sell ParkerTech Cyberware and relevant technologies/items. Welcome to the Grind action altered.
You head back and break the great news to Kiwi, who is so happy for you that she takes you out for dinner.
It's nothing expensive-- just street food of dubious origin and health that she assures you that the vendor is trustworthy and she's got meds for it just in case the food turns out to be tainted or something regardless.
"…how the fuck can a city be so advanced yet so fucking sad at the same time?" you can't help but ask as you tuck into your ramen. "This is worse than my old hometown, and it wasn't the best place to live in to begin with."
"I doubt there's a worse place to live in than NC." Kiwi chuckles. "It's got the highest crime rate in the North American continent, remember?"
"Yeah? Then at least make the food okay." you grumble. "I had coffee that was just caffeinated water, and sandwiches that weren't even made with real meat or bread."
"So? Lots of foodstuff in NC isn't the real deal. Doesn't make them any less edible." Kiwi shrugs. "Look at this ramen for example. The meat is synthetic, the tofu and noodles are artificial, and the water is--"
"If you tell me they use drain water--!"
"No! I trust the owner, he's okay!" Kiwi laughs. "They use bottled water for their cooking, all 100% safe."
You sigh, relieved--
"It's the cooking oil that has me worried." Kiwi gestures at your bowl. "Yeah, sure, that's where some of the flavor is but cooking oil is expensive. Where'd they get it?"
You are reminded of a video you saw in your old life-- of chinese workers scooping out used cooking oil from ditches to be reprocessed back into use.
You glance at the cook, whom you see is paying for another bucket's worth of cooking oil from a deliveryman. It's worth noting that the bucket is unmarked.
…
"One day." you promise as you eat the ramen, tears welling up in your eyes. "One day, I'll have real food again. Mark my words."
You come home all grumpy and mad while Kiwi laughs at you for your reaction, your bennie-ass being mad at how shit the food is.
You're so mad that you immediately turn to tinkering to work the anger off-- turning your grumbling to energy that you turn towards science. At least here, you don't have to worry about some kind of stupidity and tarnishing something you love and hold dear.
Turning to the gun in question, you decide that today you'll be miniaturizing it-- or at least downsizing it so it's either:
ConcealableLighter/Easier to carryStill pack enough of a punch to flatline a choom
With this in mind, you turn to what you have available.
The gun itself you can shrink and make more compact easily without altering the internals. But the problem comes with the ammo.
Regular 9mm and 5mm rounds are literally annoyances. Unless you hit something vital, the best it will do is piss off whomever you hit-- and that's not accounting for the possibility of them wearing or having subdermal armor.
So you need to either make a propellant that can make a tiny caliber punch through armor and cause the same kind of catastrophic damage as a normal bullet or make a projectile that the defeat armor and/or hurt people badly despite it being small.
You roll up your sleeves and get to work.
Downsizing the gun is easy enough-- you're able to get it to fit on someone's forearm and outright make a mod for it on your ParkerTech limbs, both arms and legs.
But issue comes with the potency of the munitions you can fit on the construction. 5mm, 9mm, and .45 ACP are good, but space is limited-- sacrificing mag size for stopping power. You didn't want that, so you start sciencing; which is easier said than done.
Your knowledge of chemistry severely limits the potency of projectiles the gun mods can shoot-- and that's not accounting for the size restrictions; i.e how much propellant you need to put into a bullet case to make the bullet move fast enough to be lethal.
Replacing the chemical propellants with air-pressure yields less than satisfactory results, and the less said about a catapult system the better.
What could you do to make projectile move as fast as conventional guns while keeping it small?
The idea comes to you immediately-- electromagnetism. By using the attraction and repulsion of magnetic force, you could accelerate a projectile to speeds exceeding even current-day heavy weapons at a fraction of the size. But there's a problem with that; power cost.
Accelerating a projectile to that kind of speed using electromagnetism would be costly. Even if it's scaled down, it would still need a ton of power to launch a projectile at lethal speeds-- however specifically designed the projectile is.
And then there's the issue with control and efficiency. Shooting something with electromagnetism is not as simple as lighting packed gunpower-- there's the intensity of the energies used to consider, the materials in the construction of the weapon itself so as to not mess with other electronic systems; like, say, those in chrome.
Tricky, tricky…
It takes you a few days to come up with a solution.
Until you can get access to a lab to develop stronger chem propellants or you can figure out how to make a better power source, you'll be restricted to a gun that has a limited number of shots connected to a capacitor that takes a charge from the chrome's power source and stores it.
When used, a portion of the charge goes into the gun-- where it launches the projectile at the speeds as a conventional projectile.
As for the launch mechanism itself… you lack the expertise to make use of the whole 'attraction and repulsion' principle of electromagnetism properly. You're no Tony Stark, after all; you're not that smart.
However, what you can do is line up several small electromagnets and launch projectiles by having one magnet pull it, to the second magnet, which then pulls it to the second magnet and so on and so forth until the projectile is moving so fast that it essential shoots out at the same speed as a normal .45 ACP round from a Unity.
…actually, that gives you an idea.
You take your fledgling gauss cannon system and add a charge-shot feature-- allowing the user to increase to power of their current shot in exchange for using up the entirety of their 'magazine'; emptying the capacitor of power and forcing it to recharge over time.
That done, you apply your know-how to conventional weapons; turning the gauss cannon into an actual small firearm. You make it small, about the size of an old world smartphone, able to hide in plain sight.
But if trouble starts up, it can unfold and shoot with the press of a trigger. Hell, you go the extra mile and make it wireless accessible, allowing Netrunners like Kiwi and Sasha to remotely unfold and shoot it.
They can't aim it though, but that's a problem for another day. And more importantly…
"Kiwi! Kiwi, come quick!" you cry as the netrunner steps out of the kitchen sipping a beer. "Gimme your spiderbots, I gotta upgrade them with mini-gauss cannons!"
She spits it out.
Created Fang MK.1 Micro-Gauss Launcher, created Fang Mod for ParkerTech Spyderware Cyberlimbs and Spiderbots, new Science actions unlocked, new Personal actions unlocked, new Gigs unlocked)
Kiwi marvels at your latest creation, speechless as she beholds the phone-sized weapon that's accessible with her own chrome and comes with variants install-able in your chrome line as well as your Spiderbots.
"…Pete, railgun tech is something you only ever see in the hands of really potent chooms." she tells you. "I'm talking edgerunner big-names, corpos spec ops teams, and high-end stuff."
"To be fair, this basic railgun tech." you clarify. "Just electromagnets accelerating a projectile. It doesn't even have the same stopping power as the stuff used by the people you said."
"You made this! Out of scraps!" she emphasizes. "Do you have any idea how complicated this is?!"
"…it's literally just playing with magnets." you point out. "It's not that hard."
Kiwi stares at you for a long moment, then heaves another heavy sigh and slumps into the couch.
"You're the only gonk I've ever heard who says that it's nothing special." she shakes her head. "Making miniaturized railgun tech and says it's not that hard-- do you have any idea what a corpo would do to get that?"
"I assume they'll do a lot, but I'm not particularly interested in that. All that matters to me is that you're okay and you have the best toys to work with out in the field." you pat the spiderbot. "There, all done. Now you can zero targets without even needing to be visible."
Kiwi's eyes glow and she has the spiderboy scuttle over to her, settling on her shoulder. It's thorax opens and the mini-railgun pops up, humming almost inaudibly as it charges up a shot.
Then the humming stops and weapon folds back into the bot. Kiwi looks at you with a deep look that has your heart skipping beats.
"Uh, Kiwi?" you ask. "You okay?"
She leans forward with that same deep look and you're drawn to her lips. Soft and kissable--
--then she jumps.
"Fuck, sorry, got a call." she stands up hurriedly and walks away.
You watch her go, oddly disappointed. Then you turn to the stacks of old cyberdecks and get to work.
You get to work, first and foremost, on the Spyderdecks,
With Vik as your new seller and Kiwi thusly safe from any additional danger, you get to work making as many Spyderdecks as you can.
You dig a little into your savings of money and material to make the babies, and you put Thread to work making an optimal production process for your work-- finding the most efficient work plan to make the most of the resources and time you have.
In the end, you go with an assembly line-esque work plan; that is by pre-making the individual parts and then assembling ten separate Spyderdeck at the same time. This way, you can make good time on mass production-- which is further helped with how you've previously made the things mass producible from the get-go.
You're easily able to crank out 10 separate Spyderdecks in 20 minutes, 30 Spyderdecks in an hour and 180 in 6 hours. 12 hours of work gives you 360 Spyderdecks, half Red and and Half Black.
These you deliver to Vik for sale, and he marvels at the rate of which you can make them.
"It does leave me a little tired, though." you sigh, rolling your arms. "Gotta slim down the work hours-- 12 hour shifts is not good."
"…you made all these in just 12 hours?!" Vik gawks. "You don't even have any chrome!"
"Yeah. But, like, 12 hours is pretty doable for a person isn't it?" you blink. "Even without chrome, the human body is plenty capable by itself."
"I… I-I guess?" Vik shrugs, a little helpless. "Well, aight, I'll get these advertised and sold, Pete. Don't you worry about that."
"I trust you, Vik. I'm not worried at all." you grin.
When you get back from Vik's place, you find the apartment empty-- Kiwi having messaged you about an urgent job that needed her presence ASAP.
You sit down and decide that now's the time to get to work on that one long-standing job from Kiwi; her burner deck upgrade.
It's easy enough for you to do, having plenty of experience in dismantling and upgrading cyberdecks in the past and present. Taking Kiwi's burners and converting them to Spyderdecks is child's play at this point-- hell, you could just give her Black Web Spyderdecks and call it a day.
But this is Kiwi. The woman that saved your life when you first arrived here and took you in no questions asked. For her, you'd go the extra mile. You have to, for your own conscience's sake.
So you do.
You take apart the decks and work your magic-- stripping out the useless bits and leaving on the bare minimum. Then you use the leftover stuff for your Spyderdeck manufacturing spree and put them to use in the new decks.
These ones you alter from the previous Spyderdeck design, shedding off the remaining bits of unused material for more space, and filling that space with yet more components that boost the RAM space, storage capacity, and buffering speed of the deck itself.
Then you run into an issue-- heating. You've put so much stuff in it that the heat generation would hamper performance in just 2 hours of use.
Unacceptable.
Luckily, there's a compromise you find; in one of the junk chrome that you got from Vik, you find coolant. Bright blue and more than usable for your purposes.
Extracting it is simple, and putting them into the new custom burners is even simpler; you add a piping through the Spyderdeck, allowing the coolant to move through and absorb the heat. To release it out of the deck, you put piping up externally.
Then you finish, and marvel at your work before promptly passing out.
=X=X=X=X=X=
Kiwi really should learn to stop being surprised with the kinds of stuff Peter puts out on a semi-regular basis, but nope-- once more the lovable gonk has defied expectations and broken expectations.
She remembers her request to upgrade her Burner Decks, simple enough and with a good enough monetary reward that it should've incentivized Pete to take it. After all, at that point, he'd made his Spyderdecks and the Spiderbots-- upgrading Burners shouldn't have been an issue.
And he did upgrade it. But boy did he take it far beyond what she'd expected.
The Netrunner turns the device in her hands over, behold the design. It's just as big as the Black Web Spyderdecks, Peter's line of 'disposable' cyberdecks' (and isn't that something?), but… different.
Where the Black Web was all black plastic with a white spider web decal on the front plus Pete's signature spider logo, now it looks radically different.
Gone is the while spider web print, and in its place were coolant pipes, arranged in a way that makes it look like a spiderweb. In her hands, it feels cool-- like an unheated metal pipe. It connect to a central hexagonal node which itself bears bears Pete's spider logo.
She plugs it into herself without hesitation, knowing full well how careful Pete is in making his toys. Almost instantaneously, the main control screen boots in, faster than any Street chrome, faster than any corpo chrome that Kiwi's used before. It's RAM size and buffering speed is incredible. It's--!
"Ugh. Fuck." comes Peter's groggy voice. "I really shouldn't have pushed myself like that…"
She turns to him as he sits up from the floor, rubbing the sand out of his eyes. He turns to her and smiles that stupid, warm smile; the one that made her heart melt and reminded her that she had people who cared for her.
"Hey Kiwi. Sorry I wasn't there to greet you when you came home." he tells her. "So I finished your Burner Deck upgrade request. Went a little too overboard I think, but I'm sure you'd like 'em."
He points at the Spyderdeck in her hand.
"That's the Blue Web. High-performance, better than the Red Web, but single use." he explains. "You had a ton of Burner Decks, so I figured--"
Kiwi drops the Blue Web and pounces on him.
=X=X=X=X=X=
There's something you can't quite describe when Kiwi hopped on you, grabbed your face, and mashed her lips onto yours.
A thrill, a hunger, a burning desire-- to pin her down and do things to her.
And how could you not? She's beautiful, sexy and soft and warm in all the right ways. Now moreso than ever with how she's pressing herself against you as you both make out.
You've seen her in various states of undress before, but always you kept your eyes averted. After a while, you got used to it; and she never particularly says or does anything when you sneak a look or two.
But that urge has always been there, to reach out and grab or ask. It's been handled after she did that thing with her mouth and taught you about how to please a woman using her own body as a teaching aid, but you were a hot-blooded young man. These urges never really go away.
So with her on you and your lips locked and tongues wrestling, you let yourself indulge-- hands roaming, hips bucking, fingers squeezing.
Kiwi isn't better herself-- moaning into the kiss and she moves, reciprocating every motion with no small amount of delight. Her hands slip under your shirt and find your chest, her hips roll in time to yours, and her legs squeeze around your waist with something that sets your inner flame ablaze with want.
Then those same hands push you down, pinning you to the floor-- allowing you to look at the woman as she looms over you sexily.
"You always manage to surprise me, Pete." she purrs, and you shudder. "God, I wish you were actually legal sometimes..."
"Age is just a number." you blurt out before your brain catches up.
"Pfft. Keep it in your pants, Pete." Kiwi snorts. "No getting the good stuff until you're 18 at least."
You shoot her a look that has her blushing and looking away.
"I-I know that sounds stupid after what I've done for you before, but it's the truth." she tells you. "You get a BJ and a free look and feel, and this time you get a kiss. But nothing more."
"You are such a tease, Kiwi…" you groan.
"I know." she grins. "Then lemme make it a little easier for you~"
(created Blue Web Spyderdeck, Kiwi very pleased, increased revenue potential from sales, gain monetary reward)
You get a message from Vik, telling you about how big of a profit you managed to earn-- followed by a transfer of Eddies into your account. The amount has you gawking. You have to call Vik to make sure.
"30,000?! Vik, what the fuck?!" you ask the moment he picks up.
"Wha-- Pete?" he stammers. "Those are the sales from this week kid, you thought it was gonna be more?"
"Wha-- no! I-I thought it was gonna be less!" you exclaim. "I made those from scrap and junk! Literal garbage thrown out into the street and overflowing from garbage cans or junk I bought off of you for cheap!"
"And you turned them into REALLY good chrome, Pete!" Vik laughs, understanding why you're in such a panic. "A ton of gonks that think themselves an up-and-coming netrunner picked up your disposable Spyderdecks and told their friends about it. They're selling like actual foodstuff, Petey!"
"I… r-really?" you ask, hopeful.
"I even gave a few free tries, and they immediately bought two more. Pete, your stuff is really good." Vik assures you. "And this is just the start of the month. You're gonna be looking at some nice profits for you at the end of it."
You hang up and stare at the big number in your bank account. It's ridiculous that you could earn so much so quickly, and with stuff you make out of junk.
It fills you with hope and energy, and your feel your chest light up with enthusiasm as you turn to your work corner and start working.
The Spiderware comes together under your ministrations quickly, the various bits of old and/or outdated chrome you get your grubby hands on being given the Parker touch.
Arms and legs, hands and feet-- you take it all and make them better. Updating their internals and optimizing both the components as well as the programming so the latter doesn't cause conflict issues with chrome from separate brands or digital performance add-ons.
You work like a machine, methodically stripping limbs and then building them back up in batches of 5; alternating between arms and legs every batch.
You follow the same production principles as you did with the Spyderdecks, and wind up with a decently fast assembly speed-- producing a batch of limbs every 30 minutes. 6 hours of work leaves you with a 60 pieces of Spyderware; 30 cyberarms and 30 cyberlegs. Even Kiwi is impressed at the amount you put out in such a small amount of time.
Deciding that you've worked enough, you turn in for the day. Bright and early the next day, before even Kiwi is up, you get back to work making a batch of Spiderbots.
3 variants, 4 if you include the Naked Tarantula. Putting them together shouldn't be too hard-- you've literally assembled them out of junk the previous times you've worked on them. Making them for commercial use should be child's play for you.
Then, of course, is when you're blown up.
It's a small explosion. Not even that dangerous-- just an unstable mix of the minor chems used for the internal components of the robot in question.
There's no explosive release of force, not even shrapnel, just heat and a ton of smoke. You cough what little managed to get into your lungs and turn to the nearest mirror you could find to get a proper look on your face; in case there were any injuries.
…huh. So that's what you'd look like if you were black.
"Pete? Peter?!" comes Kiwi's voice as she stumbles out of her bedroom. "I heard a bang-- what happened?!"
"Oh. Hey Kiwi." you greet, waving a hand. She sees you and her gun hand reflexively comes up. "Whoa-- hey! It's me! It's me!
"Pete what the fuck happened? Why are you wearing blackface?" Kiwi demands as she lowers her gun. "What's… you were making something?"
"Spiderbots, yeah. Was thinking about sending it and the Spiderware to Vik to see if he could rack up more customers." you nod, grabbing a towel. "Must've mixed some of the chems badly and they reacted like that."
"Wait, hold on." Kiwi states, and you look at her. Her eyes glow for a moment then subside. "Okay, you can wipe off that gunk now."
"…did you take a picture of me wearing blackface?" you ask. "Kiwi, c'mon!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." the older woman smirks.
"Kiwi! I've already got a meme of me being mad about the shit food in NC, I don't need another of me looking like dumbass!"
"But you are a dumbass though." she gestures at the mess of parts you've left. "You fucked up and got yourself blackface'd, and now you're going back at it again?"
"…I shouldn't?" you blink.
"Not until you clean up the mess and get something in your stomach so this fuck up doesn't happen again." Kiwi puts her hands on her hips and you sigh, recognizing the Nag Stance. "Do you have any idea how scared I was when I woke up to a bang in my apartment? Then I rush out and find you oogling yourself in the mirror like a narc-- I didn't raise you to be like that! And what's more--!"
You don't wind up making much in the way of Spiderbots. Heck, you don't make any-- not while Kiwi was busy nagging your ear off and forcing you to triple check everything to make absolutely sure this doesn't happen again.
But hey, at least you got the Spiderware up. That's better than nothing.
(Spiderbot production stalled leading to 25% loss in material but no loss in money, ParketTech Cyberlimbs made and sold, increased revenue potential from sales, Kiwi discovered Nagging)
After enduring Kiwi's nagging and dutifully rechecking your set up to produce Spiderbots so the explosion doesn't happen again, you realize that you've lost the previously held enthusiasm and energy for it.
So you decide to turn to your research in material science instead.
You glean very little from the forums you usually frequent, along with the other forums you find. A few of the users don't even know that material science was an actual subject, and you have explain that yes the study of materials is a thing and that's how stuff like alloys and new armor plating is made. Hell, that's also how internal comps for chrome and electronics are advanced too.
Having no other recourse, you turn to the illegal side of the Net and put up an inquiry for copies of the latest Mat Sci books from NC's corpo-sponsored schools. You get a few offers, and you go with the one who has the most reliable track record of satisfactory request deliveries.
The seller takes half your money upfront, and gets the other half once they deliver your request. The transaction concludes with you thanking the seller and wishing them well.
From there, you devour the contents of the material with the sort of greediness of a thirsting man in a desert. And you learn some very important tidbits from them.
Mainly the fact that there are more corpo-sponsored schools here than you initially expected, and all of them use different material for their curriculum.
There's Militech, the American-based corpo, focusing on mass-produced decent-quality. There's Arasaka, the Japanese corpo, with a high focus on quality over quantity. There's Kang Tao, a Chiense corpo, that tries to emulate American mass-produced decent quality stuff but only wind up with mass-produced meh quality. And then there's Biotechnica, an Italian and therefore European corpo, that deals with biological material and expanding their limitations.
…Biotechnica also runs most of the world's food production. They're one of, if not the largest, food suppliers for NC.
They're the ones responsible for the shit food you've been forced to eat!
Those bastards! Those no good tasteless corpo husks! Oh, when you get your hands on them--!"
(gained basic understanding of nu-world material sciences, unlocked new Science actions, unlocked new Personal actions, discovered the perpetrator of the shit-quality food ingredients in NC, petty grudge developed against Biotechnica)
You bury your newfound grudge deep and make it a point to one day get back at Biotechnica for the crime denying the common joe good food for no reason other than money. They will pay for that.
Until then, you'll bide your time and wait-- gathering power and resources and making the world better one thing at a time.
Then, you get a message from Sasha who asks if you're free for lunch.
It's simple, though sprinkled with a few emojis and her usage of colorful nu-world slang that you're only beginning to get used to. But you're more curious as to why she goes so far as to contact you like this instead of calling you directly… before you realize you don't have the nu-world equivalent of a phone. So you ask Kiwi about it.
"It's called an Agent, Pete." she starts. "It was introduced back in the late 2030s. It replaced the dirty like phones and computers, combining them into a single, compact package."
"How compact are we talking?" you blink. Kiwi produces her own device. "Whoa, that is compact."
"Yeah. It can interface with your chrome and let you call chooms without actually needing to physically interact with it." she shrugs. "Runners like me can even upload the Agent into my chrome so I don't have to carry this thing around."
"You can do that?" you blink. "But wouldn't that take up storage space in your Chrome that you could use for jobs?"
"It does, but it's a better alternative to just carrying this around." Kiwi flashes you the device. "I'm actually surprised you haven't made one yourself, Pete."
"Yeah, I…" you squint. "Wait a minute."
You produce your dataslate and Thread comes online. You get an idea.
"…I know that look." Kiwi sighs. "You're gonna do something crazy again, aren't you?"
"Maybe." you grin. "Thanks for telling me a about the Agent thing, Kiwi! Gotta go, got a friend to meet up with!"
You talk with Sasha as you move, sending her questions on where and to meet up and when. She says she's practically free most of the time and is more than happy to meet up at a place of your choosing.
You decide to meet up in Little China, more specifically the more tech-focused parts. You figured it would be a good place to get together, do some shopping, then end things with a meal before heading home. Sasha is surprisingly pleased with your choice of venue.
'Little China's got a little bit of everything in it, yeah. Got some shopping of my own to do, so it's not a bad choice in the end.' she pauses. 'But… you said you got your own shopping to do?'
"Yeah, wanted to get an Agent device. Figured it's about time I get my own comms method and not relay on messaging." you snort as you arrive at the agreed meet-up locale. "Should've done this ages ago-- now I feel like a total gonk."
'You're only now just noticing that?' Sasha teases.
"Oh haha, pick on the bennie why don't you." you scoff.
'Oh, I will.' you look up and see the girl approach through the crowd, her distinct clothing easily distinguishing her from the sea of bodies. 'Hey.'
"Hey yourself." you grin. "Kept me waiting."
'A lady's allowed to be fashionably late.' she huffs with a smile.
"Right. Sure." you snort. "Nice threads. New acquisition?"
'You betcha. They were on sale, so I had to get 'em.' she does a little twirl. 'How do I look?'
"Like a model out of playboy." you smile. "You know, you'd look good in a bunnysuit with the ears and tail."
'You just want to see me in a leotard with fishnet stockings. Little perv.' she boops your nose. 'Besides, I look better with cat ears and a tail.'
"…yeah, okay, I can see that." you acknowledge.
"So, what shopping do you need to do?" you ask. "Because I've got a fresh glut of eddies and I'm in a good mood."
Sasha stares at you.
"…oh, right, you don't know." you grin, a little happy. "So, you know the chrome I showed and sold you the other day right? Well, I found a ripperdoc willing to sell my stuff to clients. He takes a 15% cut and gives the rest to me."
'Only 15%?' Sasha gawks. 'Either you can talk the panties off a girl or that Doc is gullible as shit.'
"Hey, don't say that-- you don't even know him." you pause. "Actually, you might actually know the guy. This tall, ex-boxer, goes by Vik?"
'You know Victor Vektor?' Sasha gawks harder. 'He's one of the better ripperdocs in NC! How'd you convince him to sell your stuff?'
"I didn't. He convinced me to. Said they were really good chrome and was ready to fund me making my own workshop to make dedicated chrome." you shrug. "I told him I'll figure things out on my own and he left it at that. The whole selling chrome thing was a mutually beneficial business deal between us and it's been earning him good money."
'…okay, yeah, your chrome is pretty good.' Sasha admits. 'Your Spiderbots were really helpful for some of my jobs. The Peacock really helped me with some recon and hacking jobs too, though the range…'
"I'm working on that." you assure her. "Gimme some time and I'll have a new model out."
'I'll hold you to that.' she flashes you a smile. 'So, that offer to pay for my shopping~'
"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?" you laugh. "Yeah, that offer's still open."
She grabs your jacket, pulls herself up, and kisses you on the cheek. Then she grabs your arm and tugs you with her into Little China.
The netrunner gets a number of lesser chrome to supplement her arsenal-- usually add-ons and optimization options that you see only nominally increase her performance. You don't frown at her choice of chrome, but you are far from happy with it.
Still, it's her choice and you shan't argue. Besides, she's happy with her purchases and that alone is enough for you as you pay for them.
"Are you happy with your purchases?" you ask. She nods quickly, very pleased. "Great. Now you can help me with what I'm looking for."
'Which is?' she asks.
"So, you know Agents better than me. What's the best kind to get that's not overpriced crap but isn't cheap crap either?" you ask. "Cuz I'm tired of talking to you through messaging. Plus my thumbs hurt."
'Gonk.' she lightly baps your arm. 'Aren't you supposed to be some kind of genius? Couldn't you make your own?'
"I AM making my own." you huff. "But first, I need a sample of what I'm making so I know what my endgoal is."
'…do you, like, not have an endgoal when you make stuff?' Sasha asks. 'I thought all genius have some kind of endgoal that they work towards.'
"Oh, I do. But comms services and Agents aren't that." you shake your head. "Besides, this is a communication device-- it's can't be that advanced. Right?"
It is that advanced.
From what you're able to glean from watching the various Agent models in and around the many tech shops of Little China that Sasha leads you to, they are adaptive programs-- programs capable of learning and getting used to the actions of their users.
They monitor and eventually get accustomed to the activities of their user, to the point where they could predict and do the actions themselves. It's actually pretty impressive, and one you make doubly sure to copy for future use.
But how? How could the corpos make an adaptive learning program that's limited to the actions of their users? Even the likes of Tony Stark and Reed Richards… no, wait, they could make those things.
Regardless, you want one to take apart an learn their secrets. Not because you're some kind of morbid psycho, but because you want to make your own Self-Adaptive A.I in Thread.
'…you're really focused on those Agents, aren't you Pete?' the Netrunner accompanying you says.
"Yes." you drone, watching the live-demonstration with sharp eyes. "I want to make my own, and this is one small step to it."
'Well, aren't you ambitious?' Sasha grins at you. 'Well, you might as well get one for your own and figure out how it works.'
"That I will." you nod, looking back at the selection of devices before you. "Hmm… do the price differences really make much of a difference in performance?"
'The pricing isn't for the Agents themselves-- they're all more or less the same.' Sasha shrugs. 'It's the devices housing them that make a difference. Better RAM, higher storage capacity, greater buffering speed; those make an Agent work better and learn faster.'
"Ah, right, hardware issues." you nod, squinting at a model. "You know what, I think I've got a better idea. Find me some shades."
'Shades? Like sunglasses?' Sasha blinks. 'Oh-kay, but… why?'
"I've got an idea." you grin.
Sasha acquires you some shades while you get the cheapest Agent on sale as well as some tools. Then the two of you find a secluded place away from all the noise (mostly) and you get to work.
Your netrunner friend gets a front row seat to see you work, and you don't disappoint with your ability to tinker.
Taking apart the device, you find very quickly that the contents of a standard nu-world communication device is… pretty simple.
There's the electronic components like the motherboard, the mini-SDD, the RAM, and the transmitter that connects it with someone's chrome or some other electronic device to facilitate the actual communication thing.
They're obviously too big to mount on sunglasses, but you figure that you could just cut up the components, glue them on, and bam-- smart-glasses.
…you have to shake yourself out of that and actually focus.
First, you downsize the already small components into even smaller sizes by taking them apart, rebuilding them, then putting them back together in shapes and sizes that you could fit on the sun glasses that Sasha bought for you. Then you install all those parts into the sun glasses one by one, making sure to use up all the available space and then some.
Then you realize that the shades Sasha bought come with manually adjustable tinted lenses. This makes things event easier.
You hook the smartglasses to your dataslate and do some slight editing to the coding in it, allowing you to send orders to the Agent on the electrical stuff you're installing on via voice commands.
Nothing as complex as the stuff made by Tony Stark, but it was a start.
Less than 30 minutes later, you pull away and allow Sasha to gawk as your latest creation.
"I call it the Spidereye Smart Glasses." you grin. "Mark 1."
Sasha picks it up gingerly and puts it on, marveling at your work.
'…this is pretty impressive.' she tells you. 'It's got all the capabilities of a normal comms device plus Agent, all in a set of glasses. You don't even need to link this up with your chrome.' she pauses. 'But why not just, y'know, get some chrome? You won't need glasses if you can get the info straight into your head.'
"Well, some people don't like the idea of sitting down on an operating table and getting chipped in." you huff. "I'm not one of them, but I'd rather not get into that unless I absolutely have to."
'Man Pete, you're kinda dirty.' Sasha laughs at you. 'You could get yourself chipped in and all chromed up, but you choose not to?'
"Hey, I do want to get chipped in eventually." you huff again, donning your glasses. "Just with tech I trust. Street chrome is not at all trustworthy, let alone corpotech."
'Fair enough.' she shrugs. 'Also…'
Your smart-glasses ring, and you pick up.
"Its nice to finally not need to message you to talk." Sasha grins. "So, how'd you like my voice?"
"…you sound a little too high-pitched." you squint. "You're using a text to speech mod, aren't you?"
"Well duh, not like I can talk." she rolls her eyes. "For a smartypants you sure are dumb sometimes Pete."
You and Sasha separate not long after, both of you content and you yourself with a lighter wallet. But hey, you had cash to burn so that's okay.
Coming home, you find Kiwi sitting on the couch munching on some kibble. You take off your jacket and step over, sitting beside her and taking a handful of kibb yourself. The taste is still shit but at least it's nutritious.
"So, how'd the date go?" Kiwi asks.
You almost spit out your kibble.
"I-It wasn't a date!" you stammer. "I just met a friend and we out to get some stuff! We didn't even do anything besides that!"
"Did you?" she grins. "Those glasses look new."
You pause, sigh, and hand them over. She takes them and looks them over with a critical eye, then turns back to you with a grin.
"…yes, I made some smart glasses. Yes, the friend I was with watched me make it." you grumble, flushing. "But it still wasn't a date. You-- You do things on dates, right? And then you head home with the partner and have sex?"
"Not always-- that kind of thing usually happens with gonks and yonos that know what they're doing." Kiwi says, turning over the smart glasses and looking at them with glowing eyes. "Only three kinds of person to fall for that; the naive, the desperate, and the experienced."
"…but they're still falling for it." you point out.
"Yeah. But the experienced does so knowingly and gets out of it richer." Kiwi shrugs. You look at her blankly. "You'll understand when you're older, Pete."
"I'll… take your word for it then?" you blink. "But yeah, I suppose that would be a thing here."
And a thing in your old life too. People act… eerily similar in this world and your old one, environment and circumstances aside. People, desperate people especially, could be so easy to manipulate and control. No wonder the supervillains and masterminds of your world managed to do that.
Bah, you're digressing.
"So, what do you think?" you ask as she hands you your smart glasses back. "Anything I should change?"
"It's a little crude, but it's good for a non-chrome piece. If you want to do any upgrades, consider getting neural transmitters to bypass the voice-activated system." Kiwi tells you. "A runner with a voice mod or a half-decent runner could do some bad things to those things."
"Neural transmitters? What do those do?" you blink.
"They're basic chrome-- the most basic there is. It lets someone access wireless devices with their head." Kiwi tells you. "Netrunners can't hack it because, well, you can't hack a brain-- so you won't be fried."
"Huh." you blink. "Chrome that simple exists?"
"It does. Every runner has it-- can't interface with shit otherwise." Kiwi shrugs.
"I thought their chrome does that?" you ask. "I mean, the stuff they install?"
"Oh yeah, but they always come bundled with a neural transmitter anyways." Kiwi explains. "Getting just the transmitter is easy and cheap, and makes like much more convenient."
"I see, I see." you nod. "So, are there any pieces of tech that you think would sell well among netrunners? I know I'm doing well with the spyderdecks and software, but hey, always taking suggestions."
"Suggestions…" she rubs her chin.
She has several, pieces of chrome that you yourself aren't familiar with but understand when she explains it.
There's RAM and memory boosters, which connect with the Netrunning chrome and boost their performance. There's stuff like cyberware capacity enhancers, which allow for chooms to install more chrome on them without risk of early or immediate cyberpsychosis. Then there's Sandevistans.
"Who?" you blink. Kiwi giggles.
"Gonk. Sandevistans or Sandys are cyberware that speeds up your movement and slows perception of time." she tells you. "High-spec ones come with neural ports that come with internal power supply, regulation, and info transfer. I heard from people that use it that you basically become a superhero for a few in-use seconds."
You gawk at her. A piece of chrome that practically turns someone into a speedster metahuman for a few seconds?!
"…and that's available on the market? The civilian market?" you ask.
"Yes choom, on the civilain market." Kiwi laughs. "You're so silly sometimes, Pete. But it's not cheap; a basic Sandevistan goes for between 6 and 8,000 Eddies, plus installation fees."
"Installation-- they're cutting people up and putting chrome in them, and they call it 'installation'?" you facepalm. "Oh my fucking…!"
"Hey, it's the truth. At the end of the day, that's just people chipping in and you gotta use the right terminology for it." Kiwi wraps an arm around you. "You get used to it, Pete."
"I kinda don't want to, now." you say into your hand. "This is people we're talking about. The way you said that was just--!"
"Impersonal? Cold?" Kiwi rubs your shoulder. "I'm sorry Pete, but that's just how it is in NC. You aren't supposed to care about other people-- they won't care about you."
You shake your head. God, this place can feel so… so inhuman at times…
Kiwi just laughs at your mental breakdown, and you can't fault her-- NC has warped her to find this kind of behavior humorous rather than worrying. It's a horrible failing on the city's leadership.
Once again, you renew your promise to see this city made better and its inhabitants given a better life. It will not be easy, but nothing worthwhile is easy. Uncle Ben and Aunt May didn't raise a quitter.
A few minutes later, your breakdown passes and you're left in that haze between normalcy and numbness. Kiwi's arm around you and her presence helps keep you grounded, and the both of you just sit there in silence-- luxuriating in the shared warmth and fulfilling quiet.
"So..." you start. "I'm planning on moving out soon."
Kiwi hums. Her arm tightens around you.
"Not surprised. You selling your stuff must've earned you a ton of eddies." she says. "I won't stop you, Pete. Just… don't be a stranger, yeah?"
"Yeah. I'll visit whenever I can." you promise, and you mean it.
"I've heard that from so many gonks that feel like I should be rolling my eyes." she laughs. "But with you, I feel like you'd actually keep that. Do you have a place in mind?"
"Nope." you shrug. "But I'm open to ideas."
"Well, first off, you're gonna need ID. No landlord in NC would do any kind of official business with someone without any papers." she tells you. "I know a few shoemakers that can help with that, so don't worry. As for places…"
She starts listing things down, and you make doubly sure to jot them down to check later.
You make sure to do some research on the areas of the places Kiwi recommended, knowing how dangerous NC is as well as how sticky everyone's hands can be. You'll need to set up defenses and make locks just in case-- maybe even set up traps too.
A few days later, you get a call from Vik; asking if you have anything else for him to sell. You respond that you do and that you wanted to deliver it earlier but got carried away with home hunting.
"You're finally getting your on place, eh?" your boss chuckles. "I'm not surprised. You got anywhere in mind?"
"I got a few places, yeah." you nod. "Hold on, we can talk once I deliver your the stuff I've made. You'll like these, Vik."
"Knowing you, I'm excited already." the older man says, voice betraying his excitement. "Do you need any help hauling the stuff you've made?"
You stare at the 60 separate cyberlimbs and you start wondering.
"Nah. I'll figure something out." you tell him. "Thanks for the offer though, Vik. See you then."
It takes you a few minutes to fashion something you could use to transport your work; two boxes, cleverly reinforced in a way that hides them from view. They're stacked atop one another and unlabeled to further discourage any potential thieves.
But just in case, you'll stick to the side streets and carry a loaded iron. You even borrow one of Kiwi's Loaded Tarantulas, now equipped with a Fang for added self defense.
From there, you head out.
Thankfully, you arrive at Vik's place with no issue and the older man is quick to help you unload your delivery-- taking up a Spiderware cyberarm and gawking at it in awe. You take a seat and wipe the sweat off your face.
"60 cyberlimbs." you pant. "30 arms and 30 legs, interchangeable sides so one arm can be left or right facing if you just… switch where the plating is." you hold up a hand. "Sorry, I'm… a little out of breath…"
"I can tell-- these things aren't exactly light. Even if they're far lighter than the usual chrome I install." Vik bounces a cyberarm in his hands. "Still, hauling 60 of these and being a 'ganic is impressive. You must exercise and train on the reg if you manage to make it so far without passing out."
You wave a hand. Vik laughs and goes to retrieve a beer.
"Sure. Whatever." you pant. "You have any recommendations for a vehicle?"
"Aww, you tired of walk already?" the older man laughs. "You gotta lighten up a little Pete-- walking's just as nice as riding."
"It's not. It's 100% not." you sigh. "You try hauling 80-plus kilos worth of chrome across fucking Watson on foot without chrome."
"…okay, yeah, that's pretty shit." he admits. "But hey, you're getting exercise."
"Fuck off." you groan. He just laughs.
"Alright, alright. As for your question…" he pauses. "What kind of ride are you looking for? There's a good variety to choose from in NC, and they're all… mostly customizable."
"Mostly?" you blink.
"Depends on the brand." Vik nods. "Anyways, you've got your economy cars, your executive cars, sports cars, and bikes. Economy's cheap but practical, exec looks good but performs only marginally better, sports are for speed and needs a good driver at the wheel, and bikes are… well, they're motorcycles."
"Okay, that's… that's good." you nod. "Do you need licenses to drive 'em?"
"Only if you're caught and don't have the Eddies to pay off a badge." Vik shrugs. "But I know plenty of chooms who drive around NC without a license. The Nomads definitely don't have 'em, but they drive around all the same."
"Nomads… they're the people that drive around between free states like wandering tribes, right?" you ask.
"Yeah, but don't use that comparison if they're in earshot." Vik tells you. "They don't take too kindly to insults."
"Right, right, but that's basically them right?" you say. Vik sighs and nods. "And they do merc work on the side, yeah?"
"Where are you going with this, Pete?" he asks you.
"Well…" you sit up, clearing your throat. "So, I got advice on what netrunners would like. How about other mercs, like Nomads and Edgerunners? Anything else that's popular?"
"How the hell did you connect mercs and nomads with…" Vik shakes his head. "You know what, I won't pry too much. But that is a solid jumping-off point to segue into non-netrunner chrome since you sound interested in expanding into there."
You nod and hum in agreement. Vik hums.
"Well… the first thing you need to understand about mercs and edgerunners is that the stuff they do is more… direct than netrunners." Vik tells you. "They shoot people and zero gonks directly rather than with Quick-Hacks."
"Right, so lethality and survivability would be their main focus. Stuff like Sandys, armor, and killy-er guns." you muse, thinking back to your foray into firearms and ammunition, your creation of Fang Coilgun System, and your shield mod. "So… basically the stuff I can make now?"
"Yeah, more or less." Vik nods. "Make something like a projectile launch system that runners can install in their chrome, or something that they can use to stay alive longer during fights. That'll sell like hotcakes."
"Alright, alright, I got you." you nod. "Anything else?"
"Uh… Hm…" he rubs his chin. "Maybe something more specialized? Like optics and internal mods?"
"Internal mods?" you blink.
"Yeah. Stronger skeletons, sub-dermal armor, or bio-mods." Vik nods. "Those are always sought after by runners and mercs; make them killy-er without being noticeable."
"Bio-mods…" you murmur. "You wouldn't happen to know a thing or two about biomods yourself, right?"
I don't know much, but I know enough I think." Vik scratches his cheek. "For one, they're equal to chrome and don't come with the risk of going cyberpsycho. There's just as many varieties of biomod that they're… essentially the same as chrome too, minus the bits like radio transmitters."
"Wait, what? Really?" you gawk. "Even Sandys?"
"Yeah, even Sandys. From what I know, they artificially induce a state of slowed time perception equal to to Sandevistans but without the inherent risks like overheating or nerve damage." Vik nods.
"Then why aren't people using it in NC?" you almost demand, outraged.
"Cuz it's pricier, choom." Vik sighs. "Bio-mods that perform that well are usually limited to just western Europe, and affordable by the elite forces of the richest of the rich. People in NUSA and NC could get them, sure, but…"
"It's be limited to vanishingly few people." you wince. "Damn…"
"It is what it is. Besides, there's no way the corpos here would let the fly-- they have a monopoly on chrome sales here, and what bio-mods that are available aren't anywhere near as good as those in western Europe." Vik shakes his head. "We'll have to make do with what we got. Going cyberpsycho is… well, it's a risk we'll have to take."
"I can't believe this…!" you sigh, agitated by the complete unfairness of it all. "I'll bet the main reason why bio-mods aren't as prevalent are because of the prices and corporate greed."
"Dingdingding." Vik singsongs humorlessly. "But hey, it is what it is."
"Well, I'm getting tired of 'it is what it is'." you declare. "Nobody has to risk going psycho because some-- some greedy fuck wants to keep his pockets lined."
"It is what it is, Pete." Vik asks, and your anger cools at the sheer fatigue in his voice. "And even then, what're you gonna do about it?"
You level the older man a look.
"I'll find a way." you promise, to yourself if nothing else. "Just you wait."