Sheet Rock’s digital self streamed through the sprawl’s sub-net, a veritable mish-mash of geometric shapes and semi-realistic objects stacked upon themselves that mimicked the real thing, not closely, but close enough to be at least familiar.
None of the corporations that provided Net access really cared very much about how neighborhoods looked within the net, nor did they enforce many laws regarding how one could govern access to such areas as they were considered public in nature. As a result, those decisions were often left up to the local district governments.
The sole exception to this unfettered access was that you were not allowed to abuse said access, this meant no hacking, no malware, and no illegal access to private systems, often represented by simple cuboids of varying color strewn about in semi-random locations, sorted loosely according to physical address and stacked upon one another like crates in a warehouse.
She waited by the gateway to her apartment building’s sub-net for her contact, a local net-based expert by the name of “Phantom” who by her own assertions, knew nearly all there was to know about Cyberware and its effect on the body.
Phantom was also the pony Sheet Rock had gotten the forged Baloperidol prescriptions from, and how precisely she managed to bullshit every Pharmacy in the city for a nearly unlimited supply was anyone’s guess. Sheet Rock suspected foul play, favoring her of course, but so long as the pills kept on flowing into Access’ possession, everything would be fine.
“How’re you doing, Sheet?” Phantom’s avatar said as it phased into existence a short distance away at another gateway. “Sorry I’m late, there was a little bit of trouble routing here from Manehatten.”
Phantom’s avatar was plain and featureless body-wise, but wore stylized medical wear, like that of a pharmacist or nurse complete with a stethoscope, to set it apart.
Many professional runners didn’t bother with styling their avatars very well, they didn’t need to in general as cosmetic features rarely did you any favors when faced with a hostile runner, ICE, or an AI. However, many instead opted to use an idealized version of their own likeness when in public areas as Sheet Rock did, but swap to a plain or “disguised” variant when it came to less legal activities.
“Tired, Phantom. Look I need a favor, a real big one if you can swing it.”
“He isn’t doing so well, is he?” Phantom remarked as she walked closer. “Look I’ve got some bad news, my usual sources have cut me loose, it’s going to take a while to get new ones.”
“Do you have ANY Baloperidol left at all, any amount will do.” Sheet Rock pled. “Recent events have really done a number on him, we nearly died when we were shot down over the Everfree Arcology.”
“Oh wow, that was you?” Phantom said in disbelief. “Everyone I know was abuzz about that, nobody knew what was going on. Then when you two vanished from the net for a while, we weren’t sure you were gonna come back.”
“Stuff got pretty crazy for a while, ran into an AI, a powerful one. Dumped a bunch of data to our decks and then booted us, next time we saw it was when it found its way back into the hooves of its creators.”
“That’s pretty wild, do you still have copies?” Phantom remarked with barely restrained glee. “I have ponies that are basically clamoring to buy anything gleaned from that little breach!”
“Wait, did something happen?”
“Yeah, everyone’s losing their collective shit is what happened. The moment you guys vanished into the ether a lot of the members of our private sub-net got little pieces of data sent to them, little secrets here, little salable tidbits there.” Phantom rattled off. “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t know?”
“No, should I?”
“Something has kicked the hornet’s nest big time, I’m talking Equi-Tech, Darkspace, Crystal Dynamics, heck even Unreal Dimensions. Even smaller time folks like General Computing and Agricore are sweating a little bit, and mobilizing whatever troops they have right now. Whatever it actually is has them spooked bad, there’s corporate troopers everywhere in my neck of the woods.”
“Who could elicit a reaction this strong?”
“From what I’ve seen, the troopers seen exchanging shots are wearing armor unlike anything I’ve seen before, and whoever they are, they have some backing behind them.”
“Wait.” Sheet Rock said suddenly. “What does it look like, the armor I mean.”
“Harsh angular shapes, gold trim, full face helmets, built like tanks, the works. They’re fielding tech even giants the likes of Equi-Tech and Genetech would find expensive.” Phantom listed off. “I mean, shit, I saw one trooper take an armor-piercing rifle round like it was nothing, bounced right off of the strongest magical barrier I’ve seen in well… ever, and that’s just one group I’ve seen!”
“Sounds like you’re living in a warzone.”
“Hardly. At the moment it amounts to surgical strikes on Big Four owned infrastructure, they’re basically the only ones getting a beating, at least right now.” Phantom chuckled. “Actually, I have a proposal for you, if you’d indulge me.”
“If this is another job offer, I think I’ll pass.”
“No, nothing like that. It’s something that’ll benefit both you and me.” Phantom grinned. “I think we should meet, in person. I don’t like that the Big Four are mobilizing forces in general, it implies that they’re going to war, or at least preparing for a scuffle which is needless to say a problem.”
Phantom always stayed anonymous without fail, even among the tight-knit Netrunner community they both belonged to, nobody even knew her real name, where she lived, or even what she looked like. She was, for all intents and purposes, exactly like her namesake, a Phantom.
“Is that wise?”
“I think it’s about time we met anyway, and to be honest, something has me worried.” Phantom replied, ignoring the question. “A lot of runners I know haven’t been returning my calls, something’s wrong, I can feel it in my bones.”
“How’re you gonna get here, Skytrain?”
“Probably. It’s gonna take me the better part of a few days though, I’m coming from the far north. Don’t wait around though, I have a few things to do before I arrive in Canterlot.” Phantom warned. “There’s a… client of mine that’s in a little bit of a bind, so I’ll need to deal with him before we can get things moving. I should probably get to it, see you.”
Phantom’s avatar abrubtly broke into digital particles that quickly dispersed into nothingness. She had a habit of unceremoniously ending her conversations like that whenever she was done talking, and no amount of gentle persuasion would’ve changed that.
The last thing they needed right now was being drawn into another mystery on top of the one they were already mired in. That said, Phantom was their friend, as were the ponies that were going missing in some fashion or another, and they needed every ally they could get.
Things were about to get very interesting, especially if another corporate war was on the horizon. Neither of them had a horse in this race so to speak, so they both considered their involvement to have been concluded, hopefully forever.
Sheet Rock, however, had a very bad feeling that something bigger was yet on the horizon. Something hadn’t been sitting right since Matterhorn vanished, what Lucky’s fate ultimately was, and how long their separation from corporate matters would last until they were reeled back in.
Director Luna hadn’t stipulated that they were free of her, in fact, what she had said felt more like she just needed the smallest reason to “convince” them to help again. It stood to reason that if her greatest asset had gone missing, she’d want as many hooves as possible out looking for it.
Sheet Rock chuckled at the thought. Before now she’d have overlooked the shadowy ponies at street corners, or the shadows that walked among the utility tunnels and backstreets prevalent in just about any corner of any district you’d care to mention.
But now she was aware just how many enemies they’d probably made in the last few weeks alone, and along with that, how many eyes were now watching their every move. They’d made too much noise in too short a time, they were no longer invisible to the powers that be and it wouldn’t be long until they pissed off the wrong corpo.
A short beep rang through Sheet Rock’s head, a message, text only, from Scarlet.
Can we talk? I have some things to say that I think you’ll wanna hear, I’m hanging around Jackie’s bar if you feel like it.