[Shadowrun] IQ Test
Sep. 23rd, 2005 11:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Right. I wrote this for a challenge, but it came out too long by about 600 words, so it's over here in complete form just for kicks.
Shadowrun fic for and NPC who never even saw the light of day, so no-one knows who he is. It doesn't really matter. He's pretty damn generic.
It has nothing to do with Senna, or with Paris. Nor even with El, my other SR character.
Word count: 944
IQ Test
“Look, man, don’t get cocky. You’re still a damn long way from being a big thing, if that’s even considered to be good these days. The big-shots, the legends... some of ‘em come out of the blue, but mostly, they spend time building up their rep, until someone takes ‘em on for a big job. Right now? You’re a kid. That’s all. A kid with a few tricks, but hardly some shit-hot Otaku who’s gonna fuck up a megacorp,” the man, who had introduced himself as Twitch, stared unblinkingly at the young guy in front of him. New to the shadows, it was obvious, and probably just out of school to boot, he was hunched over his crappy deck, probably barely paying attention. Twitch aimed a kick at his leg.
“Wouldya pay attention? I’m not having some kid blowing a job because he thinks he’s hot shit. You,” he growled, “don’t know jack. I’ve been in this line of work for damn near twenty years, and don’t you go thinking I’ve lost my edge because I’m old. Think I’d have survived this long if I didn’t have some clue what I was doing?”
The lad muttered something which might have been agreement, or might not. Twitch was, on the whole, beginning to lose it. He’d been put on the job with this guy in the usual way, via a Johnson, and he was beginning to suspect he was dealing with the much-feared Johnson, the one in ten who would really screw you over. With a bunch of reliable runners it would have been pretty simple, infiltration, extraction; but he wasn’t sure the decker he’d been given was even up to sleazing his way into a private message board, let alone past corp security. It was always possible this was, in some distant and twisted way, a set-up. He wondered how many people he’d offended on a personal enough level for that, or if some mad corp scheme could possibly involve this run needing to fail. Probably, somehow, though damned if he could actually figure out what.
“Look, old guy, give me a bit of credit here, yeah?” the boy was speaking. Twitch had been beginning to wonder if he was capable of it, “I mean, sure, I’m not like one of the all-time greats, but I don’t think I’m so dumb as you’re makin’ out here.”
Twitch was pretty sure of his assessment, on the whole. He wondered if the boy had even figured that Twitch would have done a check on his past and fount the info, not even too deeply hidden, about a fucked up run in UCAS earlier this year when the boy had been surprised by black ICE on a research facility. Decker of not, and Twitch was emphatically not, you knew to expect some things if you’d lived a little while in the shadows of Seattle and lived. Oh well. Backing down on the contract now would be a bitch, so it was time to try and work with such materials as had been provided.
“If you’re not stupid, then you’ll bleedin’ well listen to what I got to say about this job, yeah?”
The boy looked up, sullen. Twitch waited to see if he’d accept. Think of it as an IQ test, yeah? If he couldn’t take advice, it was probably best to knock him over the head and request a new decker from the Johnson, though it’d mean a pay cut at best. Twitch, hardened Street Samurai that he was, felt reasonably pragmatic about such actions. Still. If the material here could be worked on, then why not...
“Ok,” a grudging response, but the correct one for the boy’s continued survival, whether he knew it or not.
Right.
“We’ll start with the basics. Teamwork. Oh yeah, corny, I don’t need no team. If you’re thinking that, change your tune, or get out. It’ll only work if the team is good. Not the individuals, though their skills count. But you gotta be co-ordinated,” he twitched a little. Wired reflexes, no money for a trigger, “and you can’t mess around wondering what to do when the heat’s on, ‘cause by that time someone’s dead. Right?” The boy nodded, though he still looked faintly bored.
“You’re the decker, so you’ve got the most freakin’ important job, in some ways. I got me some electronics skills but I can count the things I know about breakin’ matrix security on one hand. You’ve had the brief. Remember there’ll be ICE around that place a mile deep, and remember that corps have deckers too, and not only in the shadows like us poor souls.” The boy winced at the mention of ICE. Sore memory, Twitch was sure.
“Now. I’m gonna be the one in the compound. Ya know what this means? If I tell you something needs doing, you do it. If you tell me something needs doing in the interests of your security, I do it, but you don’t try to tell me what to do other than as pertains to electronics. Okay.” A small nod. Probably the best Twitch could expect at this stage, but there was time yet; the run was on a pretty loose timeframe.
“And now it’s time for coffee. I’ll explain a bunch of my ideas on the way. You got anything intelligent to say, go ahead and say it,” and if it’s actually intelligent, my view of you goes up several notches, he added to himself.
It was going to be an interesting few days. Hopefully he’d make it out alive.
Shadowrun fic for and NPC who never even saw the light of day, so no-one knows who he is. It doesn't really matter. He's pretty damn generic.
It has nothing to do with Senna, or with Paris. Nor even with El, my other SR character.
Word count: 944
IQ Test
“Look, man, don’t get cocky. You’re still a damn long way from being a big thing, if that’s even considered to be good these days. The big-shots, the legends... some of ‘em come out of the blue, but mostly, they spend time building up their rep, until someone takes ‘em on for a big job. Right now? You’re a kid. That’s all. A kid with a few tricks, but hardly some shit-hot Otaku who’s gonna fuck up a megacorp,” the man, who had introduced himself as Twitch, stared unblinkingly at the young guy in front of him. New to the shadows, it was obvious, and probably just out of school to boot, he was hunched over his crappy deck, probably barely paying attention. Twitch aimed a kick at his leg.
“Wouldya pay attention? I’m not having some kid blowing a job because he thinks he’s hot shit. You,” he growled, “don’t know jack. I’ve been in this line of work for damn near twenty years, and don’t you go thinking I’ve lost my edge because I’m old. Think I’d have survived this long if I didn’t have some clue what I was doing?”
The lad muttered something which might have been agreement, or might not. Twitch was, on the whole, beginning to lose it. He’d been put on the job with this guy in the usual way, via a Johnson, and he was beginning to suspect he was dealing with the much-feared Johnson, the one in ten who would really screw you over. With a bunch of reliable runners it would have been pretty simple, infiltration, extraction; but he wasn’t sure the decker he’d been given was even up to sleazing his way into a private message board, let alone past corp security. It was always possible this was, in some distant and twisted way, a set-up. He wondered how many people he’d offended on a personal enough level for that, or if some mad corp scheme could possibly involve this run needing to fail. Probably, somehow, though damned if he could actually figure out what.
“Look, old guy, give me a bit of credit here, yeah?” the boy was speaking. Twitch had been beginning to wonder if he was capable of it, “I mean, sure, I’m not like one of the all-time greats, but I don’t think I’m so dumb as you’re makin’ out here.”
Twitch was pretty sure of his assessment, on the whole. He wondered if the boy had even figured that Twitch would have done a check on his past and fount the info, not even too deeply hidden, about a fucked up run in UCAS earlier this year when the boy had been surprised by black ICE on a research facility. Decker of not, and Twitch was emphatically not, you knew to expect some things if you’d lived a little while in the shadows of Seattle and lived. Oh well. Backing down on the contract now would be a bitch, so it was time to try and work with such materials as had been provided.
“If you’re not stupid, then you’ll bleedin’ well listen to what I got to say about this job, yeah?”
The boy looked up, sullen. Twitch waited to see if he’d accept. Think of it as an IQ test, yeah? If he couldn’t take advice, it was probably best to knock him over the head and request a new decker from the Johnson, though it’d mean a pay cut at best. Twitch, hardened Street Samurai that he was, felt reasonably pragmatic about such actions. Still. If the material here could be worked on, then why not...
“Ok,” a grudging response, but the correct one for the boy’s continued survival, whether he knew it or not.
Right.
“We’ll start with the basics. Teamwork. Oh yeah, corny, I don’t need no team. If you’re thinking that, change your tune, or get out. It’ll only work if the team is good. Not the individuals, though their skills count. But you gotta be co-ordinated,” he twitched a little. Wired reflexes, no money for a trigger, “and you can’t mess around wondering what to do when the heat’s on, ‘cause by that time someone’s dead. Right?” The boy nodded, though he still looked faintly bored.
“You’re the decker, so you’ve got the most freakin’ important job, in some ways. I got me some electronics skills but I can count the things I know about breakin’ matrix security on one hand. You’ve had the brief. Remember there’ll be ICE around that place a mile deep, and remember that corps have deckers too, and not only in the shadows like us poor souls.” The boy winced at the mention of ICE. Sore memory, Twitch was sure.
“Now. I’m gonna be the one in the compound. Ya know what this means? If I tell you something needs doing, you do it. If you tell me something needs doing in the interests of your security, I do it, but you don’t try to tell me what to do other than as pertains to electronics. Okay.” A small nod. Probably the best Twitch could expect at this stage, but there was time yet; the run was on a pretty loose timeframe.
“And now it’s time for coffee. I’ll explain a bunch of my ideas on the way. You got anything intelligent to say, go ahead and say it,” and if it’s actually intelligent, my view of you goes up several notches, he added to himself.
It was going to be an interesting few days. Hopefully he’d make it out alive.