ic Operation Ares

[Supercape]

Haven

 

A thin smile formed on Haven's silver lips. He adjusted his jacket, straightened his tie. 

 

"Tautological loops of logic. For the win."

 

He started up the path to the red planet at a steady place. There would be wheels within wheels, plans within plans. Max Mars was no fool, and no fools would orbit him. Whatever he was facing it was likely an intelligence equal to, our greater, than his own. 

 

This was worrying, but whatever reticence he had was more than matched by curiosity. If he did not march up the stairs, bold, then he would forever regret it. 

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The stairs go ever on, ascending towards the red planet far above.

 

It seems like it is so far away, an impossibly long journey to reach the stars.

 

And yet.

 

And yet.

 

It is actually so very close. The planet is much smaller than first appears, being perhaps 5 meters radius. The stairs lead up to it, and, as Haven approaches, it opens up, a door on one side, revealing a room, filled with books.

 

A command line flickers into existence in front of Haven.

 

M:>Impressive

 

M:>It seems like you penetrated all of the defenses

 

M:>Do you have eyes on the prize?

[Supercape]

Haven

 

Ah.. my mysterious fixer. 

 

But who was he, or she, or it?

 

There was always the possibility that Haven was being played, a pawn on a chessboard. 

 

>Depends on the prize

 

He answered. 

 

>What is it. Really?

 

An obscure thought played in his head. That his mysterious fixer was Max Mars himself. 

 

>And who are you. Really?

[RocketLord]

GM

 

M:>Are you being obtuse on purpose, Haven? The prize are, of course, the plans you were sent to find

 

M:>Everything you need to know about Ultio 2.0

 

The command line stands silent. The period dot blinking in Haven's vision. 

 

M:>A dangerous question, Haven

 

M:>Consider your options

 

M:>Take the prize and bring it to me. Or stay and ponder whether it matters in this instant

 

M:>Security close around you soon, Haven

 

M:>Tick tock

[Supercape]

Haven

 

Perhaps Haven was being obtuse. Or perhaps he was being paranoid. Or perhaps, both. 

 

But his fixer had one thing true; this was no time for debates. 

 

For now, he would get the "Prize", and he could debate what to do with it later. 

 

He strode into the room full of books. Well, I have already died once. What's the worse that can happen?

 

...Plenty, of course. 

 

But no matter, his path was set. He started scanning the book shelves. Here, he suspected, in one of the tomes, would be the prize - hopefully, schematics for the weapon-armour Ultima 2.0

[RocketLord]

GM

 

Most of what is labelled on the book spines doesn't matter much to Haven. It is not anything that he would necessarily pay attention to, at least not in this situation, where time is of the essence. They have titles such as MarsTech, Breakthroughs, Scion, Mars Tower, Finances, the Chamber, Christmas Plans, Targets and, finally, Ultio 2.0.

 

It seems that all that he will have to do will be to pick a book. Take the file. 

 

M:>They are coming

 

M:>Take the file and run

 

He will only have time to download one.

[Supercape]

Haven

 

I'm being played. 

 

That was the reverberating thought that bounced around Haven's skull as he downloaded Ultio 2.0. That he was a pawn being played. And yet... and yet what could he do? It was the best choice, or at least the best choice he could think of. There were plenty of other books he would have gladly taken, and read, scouring every word. 

 

But the biggest danger, the biggest threat, was the Ultio 2.0 Armour. 

 

The rest, well maybe he could sort our Mars at another date. 

 

>DONE!

 

He replied. 

 

Now... to get back to meat space!

[RocketLord]

GM

 

The file is in his hands. Or at least, the book that symbolizes the file.

 

M:>Well done, Haven

 

He has the distinct feeling of something horrible approaching outside. Something beyond the digital world that he had found himself in so far.

 

M:>Now disconnect, before it is too late! Run, before the Scion finds you!

 

It should be easy enough, at least. Simply disconnect. 

 

Right?

[Supercape]

Haven

 

"The Scion?"

 

Haven closed his eyes, focusing both inward and outward. The sense that something was coming... some data stream, some pattern, he had not quite picked up, but there it was, like a jigsaw that didn't quite make sense yet. 

 

Disconnect?

 

It should be easy. It should be just a mental reorientation and he would be back in meatspace. Maybe that was where the danger was? If so, he needed to sprint into action like a bolt of lightning. Easier said that done, for it could be disorientating. 

 

Mentally preparing himself, he ejected...

Edited Wednesday at 07:30 PM by Supercape

[RocketLord]

GM

 

Disconnection.

 

Eject from one reality, return to another...

 

Haven finds his consciousness returned to his form in meatspace. Back in the Digital Den, sitting in front of a computer screen.

 

An USB dongle has been inserted into the computer while he was out, his physical body left unattended.

 

A final message from M listed on the screen.

 

M:>Thank you, Haven. I will be in touch

 

The Ultio 2.0 file that he had tried so hard to find is gone. In the millisecond that it took him to disconnect, the dongle did its work, transferring the file to parts unknown.

 

The dongle proudly bears the MarsTech logo.

[Supercape]

Haven

 

"Hmmm. Played."

 

It brought a sour smile to Haven's mouth. It wasn't often that someone outsmarted him with computers, and yet outstmarted he had been. Bet on black, and come up red. 

 

He stood up and adjusted his jacket. 

 

Someone had their hands on a new and dangerous power suit. Who? OVERTHROW? SHADOW? Maybe Max Mars was behind this all. Or a couple of dozen world class hackers. Maybe a rogue state. 

 

The pill would be less bitter if he had access to the schematics themselves. That way, maybe he could assess the threat, track down manufacture. But as it was, he was left with nearly nothing. 

 

The only way to avoid losing a fight is to never have one. 

 

It was meagre consolation, but it was all he had. 

 

He strode out of the cafe, mind spinning over how to track down the mysterious "M"