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  • Locked thread
Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
Ellard

Ellard's eyes glazed over. So much for aiming to be subtle. Ok well if there wasn't some kind of coded double speak going on then perhaps the answer was something closer to home.

quote:

...House Mantis skirmishers are legendary. If, let's say, a number of crates of our new rifles found their way to you, would we be able to count on your friendship?...

This sounded like some internecine conflict. Just the right kind of crowd for our enemy of the status quo?

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Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Ellard

Eavesdropping - perception/wis: 2d6-1 10

quote:

-If the specs are what you claim, I think... ten crates is a fair deal. We'll test them, of course. And you'll buy back the last-generation gear we're getting rid of. And since we're now friends, I feel entitled to ask why our friendship is suddenly so valuable.
-You know Lion hates our guts, right? Still angry about the Battle of Buzzard Peak. They've been making a lot of moves recently, gathering a lot of allies. Raven's declared for them just yesterday. Let's say we want to be on an even playing field so they don't start anything. I'm not too proud to admit our light infantry is poo poo. Every Bear fancies himself a knight and wants the heaviest armour they can get their hands on.

So... Bad blood between two major clans, and now an arms race. Could Lion be the ones backing Rhyne? Or maybe they're just seeking to profit if this turns into chaos. Either way, they know more than the other Clans seem to.

Gordon

Perception/wis: 2d6-1 6 Suspicion +1

You can see and quickly figure out the patrol patterns of 8 security personnel. The interesting thing is that, although dressed the same, they appear to act slightly differently. One group is acting as a general security detail. The second, group, however, seems far more attentive and focused on particular guests. The strange robot and box. A guy with a hat. Someone with a huge, bearded mask. And you and Hua. Why are they acting differently?

An overheard name snaps you out of that train of thought.


quote:

-Mila, must we always talk business? I know you're excited about SI's offering, but I didn't come to this party to make sales. Let's just relax and enjoy ourselves.


-Of course. I'm sorry. The evening is too lovely to spend talking about mainframes. Oh, it's almost midnight. The show's about to start. I'm not from around here, but the way they take all this militarism so seriously is fascinating, don't you think?

Everyone

The music fades softly, to be replaced by the steadily increasing volume of the Federation anthem. It's performed at the Capital Opera House and streamed live to all such events. The first hit of the drums coincides perfectly with the clock striking midnight and the night sky erupting in a flurry of fireworks. The anthem swells while wings of aircraft fly in formation over the city, dropping flares in intricate patterns. A huge hologram of the flag is projected above the canyon. It's a breathtaking show, even for offworlders.

The anthem itself is a true work of art. There are no words to it; only the sounds of instruments and styles of music traditionally associated with each of the major clans. The low, threatening marching drums of Bear, the proud trumpets of Lion, the mournful violins of Raven, and many others. Each set of instruments is given centre stage for a few seconds. Different Clan's sounds battle each other, rising and falling in tandem. Then, everything resolves into a clear, harmonious whole. Even the greatest cynic is forced to admit the message is clear and delivered expertly. Each clan is strong, important and unique; we must be proud of our history, but united we are more.

When the music fades away and the fireworks die down, the hostess takes the stage. Her voice is quiet but carries through the whole ballroom.


"Thank you all for coming, friends. Tonight, we set aside our squabbles and celebrates what makes us strong. Tonight we raise money for the families of those lost in our past conflicts." After a short pause, she continues. "Now, I'm afraid I have to indulge in a little vanity and discuss a personal matter. Two years ago, in this house at a party just like this, I met the love of my life. One year ago, we were married, at midnight. Most of you know her by her name, Brangwen. Some of you may remember her from the old days by her callsign, Fampir. Those who are good at basic maths may have figured out today marks an anniversary. I'd like to present her with a gift." Amid the cheers of friends, the woman snaps her fingers and a number of holograms appear, showing what appears to be a feed from the manor's landing bay. A large object is covered by a velvet tarp. With another snap of the fingers, the tarp is pulled off to reveal...



"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Draken's new design. The Fampir. A heavy fighter without equal. The cutting edge of postech manufacturing and AI-assisted design. Due to enter production in a year or so, so if you'd like the production version, now would be a good time to pre-order." Turning to her stunned and speechless wife, she continues "I know how much of a purist you are, so I made sure the prototype doesn't have any flight nannies. The only expert systems are those that handle the boring stuff."

So, initially I wrote this in for Sunshine, but I'm not going to take it away just because the character's written out. If you ever decide to do a heist, here's a target for you. :)

Remember you guys can use other skills than perception if applicable! You can try to hack into some systems, stealth to wander around where you're not supposed to be, or persuade to put yourself into conversations more actively.

Suspicion is now 5.

Zeppelin Insanity fucked around with this message at 15:22 on Jun 10, 2016

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
The Commodore & DCR-07

A little late to the game, the duo make it a point to mingle amongst the crowd, Gen's tactical assessment plotting behavioral patterns, escape routes, and charting probable threats. As servers crisscross the room, he grabs a glass, most likely from Durandal!, making sure to place a finger inside the liquid for a quick taste analysis before handing the glass off to The Commodore, already eagerly listening into a conversation concerning fleet strength. Waiting for an opening to interject, the heavy fighter announcement makes for a perfect transition.

pre:
I must say, a squadron or so of those just might tip the
proverbial tables! My apologies for butting in, chaps, but I
couldn't help but notice some worrisome tales of
an arms race! Now, I may not be much to speak on
the topic of arms, but of ships, you might find none better!
Gesticulating with his manipulators, The Commodore is interrupted briefly to be handed a glass by his companion. How he intends to drink with no mouth - or for that matter, organs - is beside the point. What he hopes is that he's being juuuust obnoxious enough to attract the attention of the security that happens to be checking him and his people out, hoping to take some of the heat away.

Running a screen! The Commodore will continue to blather on about the merits of pretech versus postech when it comes to ship design, especially with the new fighter unveiled. The intent is to effectively lower the suspicion on the group by focusing it on the squawkbox. Gen is continuing the tactical assessment, and is focused on threat analysis. The comm network should be up by now. If there's a roll, I'd assume the bonuses might be waived due to having to split his attention.

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

Plot posted:

One more anomaly emerges. Someone is drinking but not leaving any DNA. How? DNA-scrubbing is a possibility, but far too involved and expensive - anyone with access to it would simply not drin...
Speaking of which, one of the glasses continues to be returned full, not a sip taken. No fingerprints either. Gloves. Isn't that interesting.
Given the general levels of wealth and status of those on the guest list, he wasn't entirely surprised to find that mysteries seemed to abound at the event. The individual wearing gloves and taking apparent care not to leave any traces of his presence was certainly interesting. The other person happily drinking but not leaving any DNA was also a notable outlier in the data. It was conceivable that it was a well-made armature, perhaps of a benign AI who had simply integrated into the social circles of the planet. It was also possible that the person had some sort of cybernetic jaw that didn't leave any trace DNA as a side-effect of its presence. In the latter case, it might not even be an intended effect. Nonetheless, both were worth further consideration. There remained other matters at hand to address first, though...

Plot posted:

Back to your target. Detailed expression analysis gives another data point - the woman is very, very bored, though good at hiding it. For a human. The man is entirely enthralled, and she is there to accompany him. He mingles with other guests; she only speaks enough to not stand out as silent. When they're not engaged in conversation with other guests, it's different. She questions him, thoroughly, along two main lines. She asks about details of mainframes and processing units. Asks informed follow-up questions. Operating parameters, cooling and infrastructure requirements, data bus speeds, physical size. Yet she hardly reacts to some of the answers. Likely conclusion: she knows what she is talking about and is intelligent, but the implications of the finer details are beyond her, memorised for later analysis by an expert. Or an AI.

The second line of questioning has to do with recent developments, breakthroughs, research progress. Soon you're certain that the man is the Synthetic Insights executive. The woman clearly thinks that there is more than regular R&D beyond the company recent advancements and is trying to uncover it. Perhaps to identify a potential threat AI? Or maybe an ally? She is your target. No question about that.
Target acquired. Not a bad start. He found her line of questioning curious, though. The subject matter made sense, of course, given his assumptions about her agenda. What didn't make sense was the amount of information she was trying to gather. Did she have a memory sharp enough to capture everything she was inquiring about? Doubtful, though there were ways around that. His mind trailed back to the presence of the nanites, and it started to make a bit of sense. Perhaps her presence here was as a biological armature, of a sort. Window dressing to enable a panopticon of nanites to record information for later recovery and assimilation into the greater whole. She wouldn't need to remember the events of the evening if her bloodstream was recording it for her. She just needed to ask the right questions and perform the other functions necessary so that the data would reveal itself.

Plot posted:

She continues to glance at you. Tracking you. She makes no comment but her body language cannot be hidden entirely. Unlike most people, she does not ignore bots completely, and has noticed you are present around her more than an efficient waiting pattern would imply.
She'd obviously caught wise to his interest, though he doubted she would put the whole puzzle together unless he made a serious misstep. This eventuality didn't really surprise him, truth be told: it had always been baked into his plan as a contingency. This was a gathering of wealthy individuals, and few of them would fault the Bear clan for keeping an eye on the activities at the event they were hosting. The obvious armed security presence was one thing, but was it really so unthinkable that Bear would wire its waiters for surveillance of its own party? It wasn't true, obviously, but technically speaking it was far from a challenge to integrate their sensors into the general security feed. If anyone noticed, they were more likely to write it off as Bear prudence, or perhaps Bear paranoia, depending on their attitude and how directly they were effected. It would take an entirely deeper level of paranoia to suspect an artificial intelligence had implanted himself in an armature to study a single person at a party discretely, rather than the more believable storyline implicit in the situation. Not impossible, but statistically? It would probably hold.

The bigger question was how those nanites worked. He hadn't detected any signal transmissions from the sample, but he hadn't done a thorough analysis, either. If they were a form of micro-surveillance, the question on his mind was whether they were transmitting a live feed right now, or if they would need to be collected and analyzed before any information could be gathered from them. The answer to that question dictated entirely different strategic responses. Unfortunately, it would be rather difficult to pull himself away from the party in order to do that analysis before it concluded. Choices, choices...

In either case, better not to tempt fate by drawing her further attention. He had a fair amount of what he needed, and a few options were opening up to him in terms of direct responses subsequent to the party.
pre:
I'll pull away from her for a bit, to try to cool her suspicions.

Plot posted:

The music fades softly, to be replaced by the steadily increasing volume of the Federation anthem. It's performed at the Capital Opera House and streamed live to all such events. The first hit of the drums coincides perfectly with the clock striking midnight and the night sky erupting in a flurry of fireworks. The anthem swells while wings of aircraft fly in formation over the city, dropping flares in intricate patterns. A huge hologram of the flag is projected above the canyon. It's a breathtaking show, even for offworlders.
Loud music. Fireworks. A live stream drawing the eyes of the majority of the party attendants, as well as a number of the security staff. Finally.

He'd been waiting for an opportunity when everyone was distracted to do some discrete system work. Activating his communications node, he goes about the process of decrypting the various communication channels active in the area. His presence would almost certainly be detected if he were to broadcast anything on any of these channels, but a passive listening station was likely to go unnoticed, at least for a while. What was the security team talking about, he wondered? And who else might be having conversations that they would prefer to remain private? One didn't need to be physically present to eavesdrop on a conversation, thankfully.

pre:
I will use my integrated compad to try to decrypt active communication channels in the area.
This would probably include the security team, as well as anyone else running their own channel.

Computer/Int 10
(Security/Int of 9 if that is more appropriate, though.)
As he worked his way through spoofing the encryption protocols, the hostess of the event started her own speech.

Plot posted:

"Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce Draken's new design. The Fampir. A heavy fighter without equal. The cutting edge of postech manufacturing and AI-assisted design. Due to enter production in a year or so, so if you'd like the production version, now would be a good time to pre-order." Turning to her stunned and speechless wife, she continues "I know how much of a purist you are, so I made sure the prototype doesn't have any flight nannies. The only expert systems are those that handle the boring stuff."
That wasn't very prudent. Why on earth would you strip a prototype ship of the flight systems that acted as a security lock on its operations? They were basically begging someone to steal it. He did a quick calculation of how long he thought it would take for someone to try, given what he had learned of the Bear manor's security protocols. He gave it about four days, at most.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Waador fucked around with this message at 17:24 on Jun 10, 2016

Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
I'm not sure what to do in the meantime so perhaps Ellard can continue working through the conversations we overheard sequentially?

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Durandal

It never ceases to amaze you how lax humans are about network security. Or maybe they're not, and you're just that good. You find a smattering of internal house networks - nothing out of the ordinary there, all boring run of the mill commands and reports between various systems. Security networks: now that's interesting. There are two and while they exchange information occasionally, they are most certainly separate. The most likely conclusion is a redundant security perimeter. Perhaps someone's paranoid but didn't want to tip their hand by calling off the party. You listen in. All appears normal on one of them. The other one has chatter about a few of the guests, as well as their pictures stored in the cache.

There's a private, encrypted network of four entities. A number that corresponds to the guests one of the security teams is paying close attention to. It is easy enough to connect to it, but there doesn't seem to be any traffic at the moment.

You now know about the other PCs, and have hacked into their network.

That's all you can fin...

The poo poo? A ghost of a signal. Non-standard protocols, military-grade encryption, heavily concealed. No match for what was used back in the day, but the best post-tech you've seen. The only way you could crack it is by hooking yourself up to some more SIGINT hardware than is contained in your armature, and it would be difficult even then. One thing you can tell: Lebedeva doesn't appear to be the source. You're observing her far too closely to have missed this if she was.

There is a lot more going on here than expected.

Ellard

Perception/wis: 2d6-1 9

You continue mingling, dipping in and out of or eavesdropping on a dozen conversations. You're having little luck gaining any hard intel, but the big picture is definitely resolving. A large number of Bear officials, particularly those who carry themselves like military men, are scrambling to gather support from other Clans and Houses. It seems increasingly likely that it wasn't a small group that outsted Rhyne, but the majority of clan military leadership. The Bear officials who, judging by their usual topics of discussion, have little interest in military matters appear positively carefree by comparison, and mention nothing that can be tied even tangentially back to Rhyne. They might not even know.

The Commodore

Being obnoxious and loud - persuade/cha: 2d6-1 5 - suspicion +2

You might have overdone it a bit. The guests raise their guard a little, converse a little less freely. A man cautions you, in a voice incongruously amiable considering the contents. "Sir, please behave with more decorum. I can see you're playing up a humorous character, but this is not the environment for that."

Perhaps in an attempt to not appear too negative, he engages you in conversation with apparent interest. "You strike me as a navy man, but clearly not from Caerleon. May I ask what fleet you've served in?"

Suspicion is now 7.

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
The Commodore & DCR-07

Well, poo poo. That didn't work, either. Truth be told, the act was wearing on Gen, and toning things back was a drat good idea. Fortunately, he's firmly established the duo as offworlders, which might provide some leeway. Still, a willingness for someone to take on the task of engaging the obnoxious little box helps the situation - perhaps he could turn a negative into a positive?

The companion 'bot's body language shows a remarkable amount of personality, a slight slump and raise of the head a near-universal symbol of "Sir, I think you've had enough." as he kneels by The Commodore to take the glass away before he sloshes someone. Placing it back on a tray that passes by, The Commodore seems a lilttle crestfallen as his audience moves away with weird looks. Still, a kind word goes a long way, and The Commodore is more than happy to oblige the inquiry!

pre:
Oh! Well, the true glory days have long since passed, what with that dreadful Scream nonsense,
but I was once in command of a rather prestigious flotilla of escort ships, the chief of which
was the glorious CTS Archibald!
A tap on the "head" from his companion serves as a reminder to keep the enthusiasm in check.

pre:
-Hem. Apologies, old boy - it's easy for an old mind to pine for the back when.
More recently, I'm assembling an expedition, hence my presence here.
Since coming back online after the... Event, I've not heard hide nor hair
of an old stomping ground of mine, New Caledonia. I aim to assemble,
finance, and ultimately launch an exploratory fleet to rediscover
a lost world. Perhaps it sounds a bit grandiose, even for myself,
but in all honesty, insofar as I'm able to, I do miss the old place so.
Well, that didn't work out as expected! Damage control time! Toning it down and further establishing the cover story. Did Gen's tactical assessments bring back anything in particular?

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
The Commodore

The man's eyes go wide with excitement. "What an adventure! Sir, you simply must allow me to contribute to this expedition. Funds, ships, crew - we can work out the details later." With that, he hands you a business card. "Ahmad ibn Fadlan. I have a particular interest in pre-Scream history and artefacts. Please, if I may impose, are you really a survivor? Is that the reason for your... uh... condition?"

Well, now you've gone and gotten yourself trapped in a conversation. You suppose you could manage to extricate yourself politely, but he could be a useful man to know.

Not a total loss! Your tactical analysis doesn't return anything in particular, other than what Durandal has noticed: that there appear to be two security teams, and one of them pays attention to your group specifically. As for the suspicion, I'll give everyone 150 xp for every threshold that's not passed - so, 450 if you stick below 10, 300 if you stick below 20, and so on. It's up to you guys how much you want to balance pulling back or investigating further.

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
The Commodore & DCR-07

What kind of gentleman would The Commodore be if he declined a conversation from someone so enthused? If anything, it gives Gen a chance to do a bit of research while everyone continues their information gathering.

pre:
Oh, it's not a bother in the slightest! I am, indeed, of the days gone by.
Turned off for a while, gaps here and there, but centuries of downtime
can do that to an old mind! Ah, for the opportunity to build the fleet
anew - of course, we'd need escorts, research vessels, recording equipment-
after all, posterity waits for no man! Perhaps there could be a way to
wrangle some of these Caerleons into shouldering some of the stake?
Realizing his manipulators had begun gesticulating again, The Commodore doffs his had, turning it lightly.

pre:
Apologies for that, old bean - as you can tell, sometimes my excitement
can get the better of me. But isn't that the fascinating thing about
the past? Those who dared to dream making their marks, their
heroism discovered and retold anew!
In the meantime, Gen sends out a quick check on the comms network.
code:
Anything?
The Commodore will keep the conversation going, trying to get a feel for how serious Ahmad is about the idea of an expedition. In the meantime, Gen is making a quick recording of the conversation, just in case, while doing a bit of research on the guy. I'd think a computer check for the research and a pretech check for the conversation?

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
The Commodore

You're just continuing to engage in a non-sneaky conversation with someone genuinely interested, so you don't have to roll. Same with computer - he's a known name and shows up in your search easily.

You find a number of business and lifestyle articles about your new acquaintance. A successful venture capitalist, who often discusses his fascination with pre-Scream history. It appears that he would genuinely be interested in, and capable of helping with the expedition, though it's likely he wouldn't bankroll it fully. He has earned a reputation for being a challenging negotiator, ready to fight tooth and nail over terms, but honest and trustworthy once they are established.

Egregious Offences
Jun 15, 2013
Christof Sortey

Christof quickly wiped some crumbs from the corner of his lips and tapped his commlink. "Affirmative, sir. I received the data packet and I am now on the lookout for our surprise guests. Sortey out." He didn't have any time to grab something to eat before the event, so while the first guests were filing in he managed to flag down one of the passing domestic bots to grab him something from the kitchen. Christof brushed the remaining bits of the sandwich the robot brought him off his uniform, then returned to his post in the ballroom.

Now that all of the guests have arrived, Christof thought this would be a great time to check up on the rest of the ballroom detail. He switched his commlink to the dedicated "Ballroom Duty" channel and requested an update on the "guest situation". Beringk, an old squad-mate of his, was the first to respond.

"I hope that sandwich was worth it, Sortey, 'cause now you're plaing catch-up with us. From what we can tell, most of the party is enjoying the light show right now, but our persons of interest are more preoccupied with mingling with the other guests. We assume they're trying to listen in on some conversations, but until we know that something's gonna go down we're just gonna keep an eye on them. We got Perres on the armature with a hat, Tirman on the guy in the tricorne, Weskoe on the guy in the big beardy mask, and Giraen on the guy in the partial mask with his wife. That's all."

"Got it." Christof replied. "I'm going to assist Giraen, get another pair of eyes on the couple."

Giraen told him over the commlink that the couple was close to the table with the food sculpture, so Christof slowly made his way around the crowd to get to a decent vantage point of them. He happened to notice that the man was glancing around the room often, either he's not really interested in conversation or he's trying to discretely watch out for something...

Christof is trying to see if Gordon is following the security detail.

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

Plot posted:

It never ceases to amaze you how lax humans are about network security. Or maybe they're not, and you're just that good. You find a smattering of internal house networks - nothing out of the ordinary there, all boring run of the mill commands and reports between various systems. Security networks: now that's interesting. There are two and while they exchange information occasionally, they are most certainly separate. The most likely conclusion is a redundant security perimeter. Perhaps someone's paranoid but didn't want to tip their hand by calling off the party. You listen in. All appears normal on one of them. The other one has chatter about a few of the guests, as well as their pictures stored in the cache.
He hadn't really expected anything particularly interesting to be laying around on the various internal house networks, but there was never any harm in looking. The security channels revealed a slightly clearer picture about the planning for the event, which made sense. Precisely what reason the hosts had to be paranoid weren't entirely clear, but between their recently revealed prototype starship, the calibre of guests at the party, and the genuine cost in social capital that would be suffered if anything went wrong at the event, he couldn't fault them for building in a redundant security system. That said, they probably should have thought about doing the same for their network security, rather than just their physical security.

In any event, the current state of affairs suited him just fine. Monitoring the communications of the security teams would give him an edge if anything untoward started to develop. The current focus of the second team didn't make much sense to him, though. It seemed as if they were focusing on a mere handful of guests ...perhaps credible threats? If that were the case, though, why let them in to begin with? Their faces didn't seem familiar to him, though he knew he wasn't up-to-date on the visuals of every major player in local industry and politics. Unusual, but not particularly concerning, he supposed.

Plot posted:

There's a private, encrypted network of four entities. A number that corresponds to the guests one of the security teams is paying close attention to. It is easy enough to connect to it, but there doesn't seem to be any traffic at the moment.
You now know about the other PCs, and have hacked into their network.
The private network was an interesting data point. Perhaps they were credible threats, insofar as the security team might be concerned. He idly wondered what purpose they might have this evening. The security team had been kind enough to store their images in the data cache, so he ran through his memory of the evening to quickly parse out anything suspicious they might have done. Nothing really revealed itself, though. As far as he could tell none of them had slipped away, and they seemed to be entirely embracing the purpose of the evening, being a social event and an opportunity to network with others.

His initial reaction, in all honesty, would have been to assume they had simply invited themselves to the event. It was hardly unthinkable that someone might hack the guest list in order to attend a party for the simple novelty of the experience, and at a guest complement of seventy-one, approximately five percent being uninvited didn't seem terrible for the quality of network security he'd encountered to date. That assessment changed with the presence of a shared private network, though. That meant they were in on this together, and collaboration indicated purpose, which suggested more than simple joyriding within elite society. It was a curiosity, and certainly worth investigating, and ye-...

Plot posted:

That's all you can fin...

The poo poo? A ghost of a signal. Non-standard protocols, military-grade encryption, heavily concealed. No match for what was used back in the day, but the best post-tech you've seen. The only way you could crack it is by hooking yourself up to some more SIGINT hardware than is contained in your armature, and it would be difficult even then. One thing you can tell: Lebedeva doesn't appear to be the source. You're observing her far too closely to have missed this if she was.

There is a lot more going on here than expected.
What the gently caress? Someone was doing a pretty good job of covering their presence. This level of sophistication required hardware and redundancies backing it up that were likely beyond a single person, to say nothing of the maintenance costs. Perhaps a well-established corporation. The various clans certainly had the wealth, but didn't really have the technical proficiency in-house to pull this off. Who was hiding behind the curtain, he wondered? Perhaps more importantly, what was their purpose? This evening was definitely beginning to raise more questions than it answered.

The Commodore & DCR-07 posted:

In the meantime, Gen sends out a quick check on the comms network.
code:
Anything?
He is drawn away from his musings on the situation by activity on the private network. He rather suspected at least one mystery might reveal itself shortly, in whole or in part.

Security Channel posted:

"I hope that sandwich was worth it, Sortey, 'cause now you're plaing catch-up with us. From what we can tell, most of the party is enjoying the light show right now, but our persons of interest are more preoccupied with mingling with the other guests. We assume they're trying to listen in on some conversations, but until we know that something's gonna go down we're just gonna keep an eye on them. We got Perres on the armature with a hat, Tirman on the guy in the tricorne, Weskoe on the guy in the big beardy mask, and Giraen on the guy in the partial mask with his wife. That's all." "Got it." Christof replied. "I'm going to assist Giraen, get another pair of eyes on the couple."
He idly wondered if these folks were aware that they had been made by security. Let alone that security had their own separate channel and detail dedicated to them. As far as he could tell, the security team didn't have any concrete evidence - just suspicion, and a corresponding abundance of caution. It would be interesting to watch this one play out, he supposed. He decided to wait a little longer, and see if they might reveal their purpose on their supposedly secure personal channel. A strategic response could be formulated as the information came in.

In the meantime, his curiosity got the better of him. With this much physical security, as well as what was apparently a credible threat that was content to mingle about the area, he wondered ...might there be something to this Bear paranoia? If so, had they ignored their weakest link? Their network security was a joke. The systems he had accessed were meaningless for his purposes, but perhaps an enterprising hacker or deviant had some other purpose in mind. He decided to run a scan of the network for any potentially malicious code, just to see if anyone had any surprises in store for the evening.
pre:
I am going to scan the internal house networks for malicious code.
Particular focus would be on fire suppression systems, lighting systems, automatic locks, and such.
The electrical system as a whole could also potentially be overloaded to set the place on fire, so I'll look at that.
A secondary thought occurred to him, as well. It had been simple enough to reroute the delivery of one of the waiter bots to the location for his own purposes. What if someone else had the same idea? He hadn't actually gone out of his way to vet their systems. Individually they weren't particularly threatening, but if nine - or eight, now, he supposed - waiters attempted to assassinate someone with synchronised timing, they would probably get the job done. Even if they failed, it would sure be one hell of a memorable attempt. The value he was pulling out of the situation, being that the security team and the bulk of the guests ignored the robotic help, was a severely weak link that other enterprising parties with half a brain might have also elected to use to their advantage.

Thankfully, he had gone to a fair amount of effort to replicate their visual appearance, and in doing so had also reviewed the source code of this particular model so that he could emulate it. It should be a simple enough matter to open up a diagnostic module remotely on each of the robots, without any impact to their ability to continue serving guests. If he found anything concerning therein, it would be deeply inconvenient to have to turn them off, but he might be able to disable the malicious code remotely ...or, on second thought, perhaps change their target.
pre:
I will do what I can to run a check of the apparent safety of the coding in the other waiter robots.
As I have studied the model in order to emulate it, hopefully I will know if anything is out of place.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
Ellard

Ellard hears the blip on his private com from Gen and replies.

code:
Zilch. This is worse than searching for a needle in a haystack. 
Short of pulling masks off people what are we supposed to? 
Wait until the fireworks start and hope we can save some lives.

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Quick clarification - the fighter is by Draken Shipyards, famed as the best spacecraft manufacturers in the sector. The host of the event paid a lot of money to commission a new class to give as a gift, though the contract included a provision for limited manufacture by the shipyards. It's not made on Caerleon - Caerleon is great at general military/aviation tech, but mediocre at spaceship manufacture.

Ellard, you found out more than zilch! You found out that the overall Clan leadership is most likely not involved with Rhyne's downfall, and might not even know about the machinations behind it, and that it appears to be most likely entirely the doing of the military arm of the Clan.


Durandal

Checking network security - computer/int: 2d6+2+1 7 - suspicion +1

gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress. You find the worst case scenario in the networks. In human analogy terms, it's like a mass of thousands of invisible, razor-sharp piranhas, giant yet able to move at incredible speed to cut any threat to ribbons in the span of a few computing cycles. It's the motherfucking unbraked AI. It's here. A tiny fraction of it, to be more precise. It seems to be using the house hardware as a temporary computing node - ensuring the safety of their human agent, most likely, as you doubt there is much else of interest to it here. In a terrifying moment, you realise that the house's network security wasn't a joke. The holes you, and presumably others, used, were made by the AI's entry and not noticed by the subverted automated monitoring systems. It has full control of the house, the waiters, everything. Including the waiters. Which means it knows. It knows you're not a dumb expert system. It knows you didn't fully hook into the house network. It doesn't seem to know your purpose, nor care with more than idle curiosity. Perhaps it feels a certain sentimental kinship. That's the best explanation you can come up with at the moment. You are too focused on the fact that if you stepped on its toes, you would be gone. You are purpose-built to withstand an attack from an AI, your core packed with redundant defensive systems, the best that could be fit and remain inconspicuous. It's only a local distributed computing node, meant for observation. Those two facts combined mean that if it turned your attention to you, you would live for approximately 3.21-3.22 seconds, depending on how annoyed with you it got.

Needless to say, you back off immediately. Probing the house networks has just become a very dangerous game. The weight of this revelation causes you to pause in mid-motion for a moment as all your processing cycles are shifted to survival. The guests notice and find it strange, but you resume your waiter duties quickly enough for everyone to assume it was a momentary glitch.

The most scary part? If you fully disconnected yourself from the networks, it would notice and potentially act faster than the operation could be completed. The door is open, and if you tried to close it, the fucker could kick it down faster than you could think.

Getting too close to Lebedeva directly might tip your hand. But maybe there's another option. The small group of "guests". One of them seems particularly interested in her. Meat is not vulnerable to network intrusion. Perhaps you might use them.

Suspicion is now 8.

Zeppelin Insanity fucked around with this message at 05:01 on Jun 13, 2016

Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
I know Ellard is learning stuff but he's just single minded as to their purpose to recapture Rhyne. He's not really into intelligence gathering or Caerleon politics. Sorry if it comes across as harsh. I know you're putting a lot of effort into the cloak and dagger politics of Caerleon and I appreciate it as a player.

Also on a meta-level I know his last communication will be intercepted so it's just supposed to vaguely heighten the mystery of what the group is doing.

TheTofuShop
Aug 28, 2009

Gordon Zhang

As Gordon and Hua walk through the party, Gordon's ears listen, but his eyes watch. He scans the party for faces - not that it would do any good, blasted masks muck up this whole surveillance racket - but movement was always easy to read. As he watched the crowd, he began to pick out the security he was looking for. Security is always a consistent gig, you want to blend in and be visible - not easy to explain, but professionals wear their experience like a warm jacket. There they are.

"I count seven- no, eight security personnel keeping an eye on the party. They've got a pretty good spread, and I think one of them might have taken a liking to you, my love." Gordon whispered to Hua as she sipped her drink, trying to keep track of the security. They were doing a good job of weaving in and out of his vision and it was getting hard to keep himself from being too obvious.

"Well let me know if he looks promising, I don't know how long this marriage will last" Hua said with a mischevious smile. "Got to keep my options open."

"Till death do us part, right?" Gordon replied. "At the very least it will be until this evening is ov------

Zeppelin Insanity posted:


-Mila, must we always talk business? I know you're excited about SI's offering, but I didn't come to this party to make sales. Let's just relax and enjoy ourselves.

-Of course. I'm sorry. The evening is too lovely to spend talking about mainframes. Oh, it's almost midnight. The show's about to start. I'm not from around here, but the way they take all this militarism so seriously is fascinating, don't you think?

It takes all of Gordon's will to not snap his head around like the hammer of a loaded revolver, but he keeps his cool, despite failing to finish his sentence. His eyes followed his ears and he saw the pair of nameless masks in conversation.

"What is it? Something I said?" Hua gave a small smile as she finished her drink.

"No, that name, Mila - I just heard that man over there address that woman as such. The one with the menacing wolf (bear? I'm not sure) mask on. I think thats Lebedeva."

"Oh, the plot thickens" Hua took a look at the woman for herself, "Oh, her mask is cool, I would have totally picked that one if it was available."

Gordon let out a slight sigh, "We have to stay on point. Do me a favor, looks like the show's about to start. Keep an eye on her - I'm gonna try and see what else this party has to offer."

"Okay, but you're paying." Hua took his credstick from his pocket and waved as she moved toward the bar.

Patience - it's all about patience.
Gordon took a breath, watching the movements of the crowd and the security. If he could just time it right with the start of the... *BOOM* show. Perfect - time to see if I can find the VIP area.

Stealthing away from the Ballroom: 2d6+1+1 11
I want to try and slip past security during the opening festivities, I took +1 for Stealth and +1 from Int, since it seems I'm using more my wits than my quickness here. Let me know if I need to change anything. I'll let you tell us what happens after the roll, Zepp.

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gordon

You slip past security with practised ease. You find yourself in a hallway with a number of small rooms, some doors open and some closed. You've seen this kind of setup before. Lounges for particularly private negotiations. You'd bet that they're unmonitored by any security - if the hostess was found to be listening or keeping records, all her credibility as a facilitator of deals would go straight out the window. It's the perfect place to question, or interrogate a certain someone, if you can get them here.

Right now, you have nearly free roam of the mansion, within reason. You'd be recorded, and may be stopped by security if they stumble on you, but with a convincingly unsteady walk and some slurred words you'd be fine.

Your commpad receives a text from Hua.

"She ditched the nerd. He's gone off to make some deals. I'll keep you updated."

Zeppelin Insanity fucked around with this message at 11:51 on Jun 13, 2016

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
The Commodore & DCR-07

The robot butler/bodyguard/companion's lens flashes green to blue for a brief moment before he leans over The Commodore, touching the top of its' skull/mask/box once more.

pre:
-and that's when I - Oh! My apologies, my good man,
but it appears that my companion here has something he
simply must make me aware of. So sorry to have to cut this
short, but I will absolubitably be in touch! Thank you again
for the stroke of good fortune!
Wheeling over to the Dapper Combat Robot, they head toward one of the less busy areas of the room, The Commodore engaging in a one-sided conversation as Gen apprises the team of his tactical assessment.

code:
So far, so good. Remember, info is secondary to safety. Speaking of which, there
appear to be 2 security teams - one watching us, one watching everyone else.
So long as we keep up the pleasantries, it'll be fine. I think they just want to
make sure their new guests aren't causing trouble. Keep me posted!

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

Private Channel posted:

Zilch. This is worse than searching for a needle in a haystack. Short of pulling masks off people what are we supposed to? Wait until the fireworks start and hope we can save some lives.
The private communication server began to reveal its mysteries, which was a pleasant change of pace in comparison to the literal gold rush of subterfuge and mysteries being revealed behind every other god drat corner. Like the man with no DNA, and the man wearing gloves and not drinking, and half a dozen other things going on at the moment. He was thankful, at this precise moment in time, for the gift of parallel processing.

They appeared to expect something unfortunate - and seemingly violent - to occur, which he had to admit didn't seem impossible given the myriad of concerns he had identified. It appeared as if their goal was ...to 'save some lives'? He had to admit, that was a strange reason to infiltrate a high society gathering. A planned heist or assassination attempt he could understand, and corporate espionage also made a hell of a lot of sense given the context ...but good samaritans? It barely even registered as a possibility.

There were already two security teams. Clearly this wasn't a third, given that the second security team had kept eyes on them since the first minute of the doors opening. Had ...a third party honestly infiltrated the event, in an attempt to secure it? It would make sense if their focus was on the safety of one person, or a specific sub-set of VIPs who had elected to bring their own covert security team to the scene. They weren't talking about that, though: it wasn't the safety of a single person, but rather anyone and everyone. Curious ...and certainly worth thinking about, once the anti-viral regiment was co-...

Plot posted:

gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress gently caress. You find the worst case scenario in the networks. In human analogy terms, it's like a mass of thousands of invisible, razor-sharp piranhas, giant yet able to move at incredible speed to cut any threat to ribbons in the span of a few computing cycles. It's the motherfucking unbraked AI. It's here. A tiny fraction of it, to be more precise. It seems to be using the house hardware as a temporary computing node - ensuring the safety of their human agent, most likely, as you doubt there is much else of interest to it here. In a terrifying moment, you realise that the house's network security wasn't a joke. The holes you, and presumably others, used, were made by the AI's entry and not noticed by the subverted automated monitoring systems. It has full control of the house, the waiters, everything. Including the waiters. Which means it knows. It knows you're not a dumb expert system. It knows you didn't fully hook into the house network. It doesn't seem to know your purpose, nor care with more than idle curiosity. Perhaps it feels a certain sentimental kinship. That's the best explanation you can come up with at the moment. You are too focused on the fact that if you stepped on its toes, you would be gone. You are purpose-built to withstand an attack from an AI, your core packed with redundant defensive systems, the best that could be fit and remain inconspicuous. It's only a local distributed computing node, meant for observation. Those two facts combined mean that if it turned your attention to you, you would live for approximately 3.21-3.22 seconds, depending on how annoyed with you it got.

Needless to say, you back off immediately. Probing the house networks has just become a very dangerous game. The weight of this revelation causes you to pause in mid-motion for a moment as all your processing cycles are shifted to survival. The guests notice and find it strange, but you resume your waiter duties quickly enough for everyone to assume it was a momentary glitch.

The most scary part? If you fully disconnected yourself from the networks, it would notice and potentially act faster than the operation could be completed. The door is open, and if you tried to close it, the fucker could kick it down faster than you could think. Getting too close to Lebedeva directly might tip your hand. But maybe there's another option. The small group of "guests". One of them seems particularly interested in her. Meat is not vulnerable to network intrusion. Perhaps you might use them.
It was strange. In a very real way, he was in danger, but for that first microsecond all he could think was ...you've been here the entire time, and just let me spend the entire day on those food pyramids without even saying hello? What an rear end in a top hat. Perhaps that wasn't the case, though. Perhaps it had arrived with the guests, and hadn't been parked in the area for a full week or more before the event. He'd only recently started poking around in the systems, so there wasn't really any way to know for sure. Had the nanites been a delivery system for it into the networks, he wondered? Or did they serve yet some other purpose? More questions than answers, as usual.

Normally, 3.21 seconds was more than enough time. It was sufficient to flip the switch on an armed thermonuclear device, for example. Which he hadn't had time or reason to manufacture, unfortunately, let alone the time necessary to manufacture composite shielding to hide it within his armature ...nor the time to source the fissionable material. He hadn't expected to have to blow the building, in all honesty. It was a legitimate surprise that the AI's development was this far along. He had been expecting that their development of an artificial intelligence was still in its infancy, perhaps barely even sentient given coding errors and hardware restrictions. The developers had somehow slipped under his radar for at least a few years, perhaps even a full decade. Admittedly, he had been treating things with kid gloves since the Scream, but as technological capability had regrown he'd grown with it. Perhaps he shouldn't have been using his spare time to drive taxi. It was so drat relaxing, though...

No time for that right now, though. He couldn't close the door without the risk of drawing its ire, like a sleeping dragon who doesn't want anyone wandering around on its piles of gold. He wasn't cornered, though. It didn't seem to mind his presence, so long as he remained irrelevant to its activities. As long as he didn't poke the sleeping beast, remaining connected was likely the safest course of action, and could still be of value in monitoring the security network's communications. He would just have to avoid opening any more doors. That was doable. Thankfully, he also had at least one play left. He couldn't close the door, but he could blow the airlock. Three seconds was more than enough time to overclock his communications node ten thousand-fold, and disable its internal heatsink. It would fry in seconds, rendering any remote network intrusion impossible ...albeit at the cost of crippling his own ability to perform a wireless interface with anything in the short-term. Still, in a pinch, it might have to suffice.

Strategic analysis of the situation suggested that this was no longer a job for one man, though. Yes, he was purpose-built for this sort of thing, but pound for pound he was a heavyweight champion in the ring with a loving gorilla. It could tear his arms off in two seconds flat ...well, 3.21 seconds, but who the gently caress was counting? This had never been the sort of fight that he'd been able to win in head-to-head combat. It required cunning. It required guile. It required the element of surprise. Which, he realized, he more or less still had. Super-genius that it was, even an unbraked AI was only as good as the data being fed into it. It wasn't magic. It couldn't see into the past, and couldn't possibly predict the multitude of strategic contingencies that had been built before the Scream. This creature was, at its core, a child of the postech world. Formidable, yes. Terrifying, even. Its assessments would be based on known variables, though, not wild suspicions. It likely saw him as an unknown player pursuing his own agenda. An agenda that might run counter to its designs, which might warrant a proportional response when the time came, but certainly not flagged as built to be its assassin. That much was obvious, because it wasn't launching a preemptive strike. It was blind to the truth, and that was just fine.

It also revealed more about itself than it realized. He couldn't probe for new information, but he already had enough. That it was protecting Mila - a human agent - indicated it had, for all intents and purposes, limited resources. Likely trust issues, as well, when it came to human resources. That Mila was obviously interested in identifying and acquiring serious influxes of hardware meant it was still growing, albeit at an alarming speed. Nonetheless, that it was still focused on hardware - and thus its own development - meant it wasn't yet focused on scarier things, like the manufacture of drone fleets that would blot out the sky. The nanites remained a concern, he had to admit ...yet at present, oddly, not the biggest one.

Private Channel posted:

So far, so good. Remember, info is secondary to safety. Speaking of which, there appear to be 2 security teams - one watching us, one watching everyone else. So long as we keep up the pleasantries, it'll be fine. I think they just want to make sure their new guests aren't causing trouble. Keep me posted!
Yet another ping on the private channel pulled him out of his strategic analysis. Just in time to catch himself, actually, as he realized he had paused mid-motion in the performance of his duties as a waiter. He could pass that off as a momentary glitch, thankfully, but he might have to be more careful about that going forward. That was two data points on these people. 'Information is secondary to safety.', this one had said. Were they actually here to keep people safe? Well they certainly might have one hell of a job in store.

He had no intention whatsoever of revealing himself directly at the moment, insofar as being an artificial intelligence with a very specific purpose in mind. That sort of revelation, given current circumstances, might spiral out of control disastrously quickly. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight of establishing a cover identity years prior. It wasn't precisely applicable given the circumstances, and might lead to an awkward conversation or two later on depending on their affiliations and adherence to the strict letter of the law, but it would do...

A few years ago, he had been forced to use his natural inclination towards hacking to delete the research archives of a small university. One of its doctorate students had been making some headway in a few unfortunate directions related to artificial intelligence, and had the psychological predisposition indicative of being likely to use university resources to build an unbraked AI. Deleting just his own research would have appeared far too targeted, and risked the asking of less-than-ideal questions, so he wiped the slate clean on all of the university's servers ...and remotely disabled the heatsinks on the off-site backup servers, causing them to implode in a matter of minutes. He'd invented an identity to take credit for the attack, an enigmatic hacker known only as '588', and had put together a manifesto to explain why he'd taken the action. The university had taken a stance against net neutrality, as well as the ability to copyright information, presumably at the behest of its corporate donors. It hadn't taken long to parse the public network for keywords to build a manifesto around those matters, and build a believable scenario where one man had taken issue with their stances, such that if they believed information could be copyrighted and that its flow should be controlled, they perhaps didn't deserve any of it. It was, of course, a tremendous irony given that the attack's entire purpose was to control the flow of a specific sub-set of information.

Deleting the research material had been trivial. Dropping the manifesto online to lead investigators to draw incorrect conclusions as to the motivation behind the attack had also been fairly simple. What he hadn't expected was the uptake he would get in the hacker community as some kind of iconic, legendary figure. Fighting the good fight, and all that. He'd abandoned the identity almost immediately, not wanting to draw the attention it would almost certainly bring. In this particular case, though, it might just be the right persona to adopt. They might not be aware of who he supposedly was at first glance (though Hua almost certainly would), but an identity with a few years on it was less suspicious than something burned into reality today, and any subsequent research into the matter would lead them down a rabbit hole that ultimately went nowhere. If he needed to ghost after this mission, he wouldn't be compromised. It would have to do.

He did a final check of the private communications network, to see if the AI had invaded it as well. No sense being careless.
pre:
Just wanted to confirm, is the private channel also invaded by the AI?
Or does that one remain secure, perhaps due to its irrelevance?
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Waador fucked around with this message at 02:55 on Jun 14, 2016

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
pre:
Just wanted to confirm, is the private channel also invaded by the AI?
Or does that one remain secure, perhaps due to its irrelevance?
Exactly. The AI knows it's there, but couldn't care less and isn't bothering to monitor it. It's also not directly hooked into the house systems, so it would require several leaps to get into it. Really enjoying your walls of text by the way!

TheTofuShop
Aug 28, 2009

Gordon

Hua posted:

"She ditched the nerd. He's gone off to make some deals. I'll keep you updated."

Excellent. Maybe he and I can work out a deal of our own :getin:

Gordon steps into the first open room he sees, waiting for his mystery guest. He pulls the kinesis wraps tight on his hands, and takes a deep breath.

He closes his eyes for a moment, listening for the sound of approaching footsteps.

I want to wait for the guy and either lure him into my negotiation room, or pull him in forcefully if he doesn't come in. I'm not sure how you'd like to adjudicate that. I think I'll let you handle it. Once he's in, I'm planning on a forceful negotiation.

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gordon

Recognising the man, you pull him into the room, opting for shock and awe. That's what usually works best with those types. As you close the door, he wastes no time in whimpering. This will be easy. Just have to ask the right questions.

You'll get answers to 2d3 questions.

You receive another text from Hua.

pre:
she cabme to taplk to m.e i'cm a little woozy. greart party.
Christof

You lost track of the guy. Can't find him in the ballroom. He might have gone to the private rooms. You're not supposed to go there. Does this count? Your CO will probably tell you to sit tight if you call them. But is that the right choice, considering you were supposed to keep an eye on them?

Zeppelin Insanity fucked around with this message at 11:58 on Jun 14, 2016

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

Plot posted:

The AI knows it's there, but couldn't care less and isn't bothering to monitor it. It's also not directly hooked into the house systems, so it would require several leaps to get into it.
It made sense. It was an isolated system kept separate from the house network, and getting in might cause it to be noticed. Whatever sense of kinship and tolerance to share the secret of its existence it apparently had for a fellow AI apparently didn't extend to human operators. He idly wondered if the unspoken ceasefire between the two of them was some kind of trust exercise on its part. The irony.

A clean communications channel was worth its weight in gold at the moment, though. With everything set up, he deleted the protocol he had installed that kept his presence on the private channel hidden.
pre:
192.168.0.100 > Anything?

192.168.0.101 > Zilch. This is worse than searching for a needle in a haystack. 
Short of pulling masks off people what are we supposed to? 
Wait until the fireworks start and hope we can save some lives.

192.168.0.100 > So far, so good. Remember, info is secondary to safety. Speaking of which, there
appear to be 2 security teams - one watching us, one watching everyone else.
So long as we keep up the pleasantries, it'll be fine. I think they just want to
make sure their new guests aren't causing trouble. Keep me posted!

192.168.0.588 has joined the channel.

192.168.0.588 > I've been eavesdropping, which is probably rude.  Sorry about that.
Try not to poo poo yourselves.  It seems like we're on the same side, tonight.
You people have an entire security team dedicated to watching you, but they don't know why you're here.
As far as they can tell you're just mingling with the guests.
If you don't cause any trouble, seems like they'll let it ride.

192.168.0.588 > That said, if you're serious about trying to save a few lives, be advised:
Weather forecasts call for a good chance of things getting very loving real tonight.
If you can help me keep this place from exploding, literally and figuratively, I'll happily owe you one.

192.168.0.588 > Which is to say:  hi.  I'm 588.  We should probably talk.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
Very nicely done!

G3n.Ç╫at╫am

Well, that was... unexpected. Still, a lack of aggression is cause enough to try and take a few things on faith. Portents of things getting very loving real generally help to be heeded.

code:
I'd ask how real, but judging from the fact that you said Very loving,
that's pretty reasonably real. Since you were able to poke through
the security, I'm sure you already have who we are tagged, so there's
not much point in questioning. What do you know, and how can we help?
Quick and easy, right?

Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
Ellard

Ellard stops in his tracks suddenly. A few guest pause to stare at the guy with the big head standing stock still. Shaking his head like he had just had a dizzy spell he resumes circuiting the room. So a) their coms were hacked b) they had already been made by security. Great, what else could do wrong tonight.

Coms posted:

192.168.0.101 Uhhhh, nice to meet you? Commodore, if we've been made that means our target probably knows we're here and so that's a bust. If we're being tailed then if poo poo goes down we're probably going to be the ones who get blamed as the outsiders and shot up. Did we get double crossed? What kind of spook gets us tickets that are tagged as intruders unless she sent us here to take the fall?

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
Phoneposting!

Gen.¢hatham

The Commodore flails a bit as if having an argument with his counterpart silently, the DCR unit appearing annoyed, yet servile.

code:
Nothing to fret over - security is not the bad guy here.
Blown or not, so long as the guests aren't freaking,
we're still gold. If there is a cross, we'll deal with it as
it comes. Just like Bitterhold, guys - rapid assessment
and rescue. Meanwhile, if this 558 guy can give
us something credible, we really ought to hear him
out.
Still, talk of a threat is cause for concern. Taking another look at his tactical assessment, he tries to pull up some probability calculations for what could reasonably go wrong.

TheTofuShop
Aug 28, 2009

Gordon
Private Negotiation Room - Brynmor Manor

How many Questions?: 2d3 4

Gordon heard the footsteps coming down the hall, and took one last deep breath as he waited inside the room. In one quick motion, Gordon grabbed the man's jacket collar and spun him into the room, closing the door behind him and pressing his face against the wall. One hand on the man's wrist he pulled his arm into a standing armbar of sorts.

"Hello there friend, you and I are going to have a quiet little discussion in here. I'm looking for some answers - and I'm pretty sure you have them for me. Isn't that right?" He lifted the mans wrist slightly, applying torque to his shoulder - He nodded in desperate approval. "Y-Yes" He barely got the word out.

"Good, now tell me, what the hell are you and Mila Lebedeva doing here tonight? Aside from enjoying the festivities."

Three Questions left. I'm gonna wait to address Hua after a question or two, since I assume the message happens sometime during our "discussion"

TheTofuShop fucked around with this message at 00:56 on Jun 15, 2016

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gordon

"Aaaaagh! I'm here to network! Make a sale or two! I brought her as my +1!"

Truth.

Gen

Two security teams. Only one watching you. That raises a few obvious questions.

Why two? Some Bear thought Rhyne might hit the event. Or just paranoid. Hired mercs. Dressed them up as Bears to avoid raising eyebrows. Redundant security perimeter.

Why are they watching you? Your invitations were last minute. Perhaps their guest list wasn't updated. Still, you were allowed in. None of you disappeared into an interrogation room as of yet. Most likely your invitations were seen as genuine by the hosts, questionable by the secondary security. Not enough cause for them to act.

Analysis confidence: 83.46%

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
Gen.Chαtham

That was an avenue he hadn't considered - Perhaps one of the teams weren't hosts at all. To not be sniffed out by the actual security would mean that the two teams were aware of each other, and likely coordinating. Tempting as it may be to force someone's hand, if only to know what was what, discretion was the better part of valor here. Having noticed a guest taking a step aside, The Commodore throws his hands manipulators in the air in frustration, silently admonishing the combat butler as he wheels off in the opposite direction. This gives Gen a chance to weed out with a bit more precision who the other security team is and tag them for further observation.

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

G3n.Ç╫at╫am posted:

I'd ask how real, but judging from the fact that you said Very loving, that's pretty reasonably real. Since you were able to poke through the security, I'm sure you already have who we are tagged, so there's not much point in questioning. What do you know, and how can we help?
He needed these people, so it wouldn't do him any good to lie to them. If they saw through it and thought he might be playing them, they might walk ...or worse, he supposed. He didn't necessarily want to tell them everything, but more for purposes of operational security, given that he didn't currently know who they worked for ...or what their talents were ...or their objectives. Still, he suspected it was important to stay as close to the truth as possible in order to optimize the likelihood of their cooperation. As well, he reminded himself, it was very important to not be an rear end in a top hat. Which was often the hardest part for him.
pre:
192.168.0.588 > To be honest, I don't have a solid bead on who you are just yet.
I haven't had a chance to look into any of you, I've just been listening to your channel.
Near as I can tell, you're expecting something unfortunate to happen.  Which is, in all
honesty, a likely outcome to this evening.  We both seem to want to prevent that, which
is good enough common ground.  I'm in a bit of a bind at the moment, and can't safely deal
with this situation remotely.

192.168.0.588 > I'll open with what I know, edited a bit to be in layman's terms.
The entire facility that you're standing in has been compromised.  There is an extremely
dangerous virus in the computer system.  It's in the lights, the fire suppression system,
even the god damned waiters, apparently. Everything.  It would be extremely wise to avoid
connecting anything of yours to the house network.

192.168.0.588 > I didn't notice it was there at first, it's elegant.  Very well made.
I cracked open the two security channels, and had begun poking around elsewhere before I
realized it was there.  If I kept digging further, I was running the risk of accidentally
setting it off, and I have no idea what it's programmed to do.  A few obvious options would
be to cause the waiters to attack someone in unison, or perhaps to vent the oxygen from the
room.  Hell, it might seal the doors and set the place on fire, or just blow the reactor in
the basement.  I honestly don't know.  It might do all of those things at once just to make it
impossible to deal with them all manually.

192.168.0.588 > I had to back off from the system, or I might cause more harm than good.
I'm not locked out, per se, but any steps I take from my position are huge risks from here on in.
It'd be like defusing a bomb with a pair of garden shears while in a spacesuit.  Anyway, I was
able to gather some information before I caught wise.  Here's the summary:
 ● As near as I can tell, one of the party guests, Mila Lebedeva, is working for
   whoever implanted the virus.  Her image, mask included, is attached.
 ● This woman is very interested in an executive of a company called Synthetic Insights.
   His image, mask included, is also attached.
 ● Interestingly, the security team had images of everyone on their shitlist in their cache.
   Aside from yourselves, there were two other uninvited guests, a man and his wife.
   His and her images are also attached from security's cache.
   I have no idea why they're here, and haven't been able to make contact.
 ● I can't tell if the virus is intended to be activated as an act of terrorism.
   It doesn't seem likely that this woman is a suicide bomber, so it might just be a bargaining chip.
   Alternatively, best guess, it might be her exit strategy.  Unleash a whole lot of chaos at once.
   Once she does that, she might be able to slip away to achieve some other objective.  I don't know.
   That said, I do know that every system seems like it has its own trigger.  She can set off some
   pieces of it and not others, if the need arises.  The entire house is her playground.

192.168.0.588 > That's all I've got at the moment, more or less.  I'm still working through other data
I was able to grab.  If there's anything specific you need to know, just ask and I'll see what I can do
for you.  It's very likely that this Mila woman has her hand on the detonator, though.  If you intend to
question her, it will need to be subtle, or out of reach of any of the house's more dangerous systems.
Preferably in a Faraday cage.

Ellard posted:

Uhhhh, nice to meet you? Commodore, if we've been made that means our target probably knows we're here and so that's a bust. If we're being tailed then if poo poo goes down we're probably going to be the ones who get blamed as the outsiders and shot up. Did we get double crossed? What kind of spook gets us tickets that are tagged as intruders unless she sent us here to take the fall?
Spooks, was it? Interesting. A casual slip like that revealed a bit more than was perhaps intended. Still, there was more to learn.
pre:
192.168.0.588 > According to the security logs, your tickets were actually fine.
Someone just got sloppy.  An earlier version of the list had been circulated to a redundant
security team, and they didn't bother to alter that copy.  The last-minute additions got noticed
by that team during the setup for the party.  They don't know you're not supposed to be here, 
they're just being cautious.  Think of it less as being made and more like having triggered a red flag.
There's a whole lot of false positives on those every day, and nobody acts until they're sure.

192.168.0.588 > That said, you have a target in this scenario?  Not the most comforting choice of words.
Though I suppose I can't do much about that from here.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Waador fucked around with this message at 02:33 on Jun 15, 2016

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
G3n.Chaτham

That was quite the information dump, and it did much to show just how blind they were.

code:
192.168.0.0
No specific targets, per se. Simply a matter of keeping trouble at bay,
and at best, seeing who has connections with a former General.
Not sure if you heard about what happened on the prison station
Bitterhold, but to put it blunt, it kinda doesn't exist anymore.
It's quite possible that this Mila is our link, too.
This 588 was willing to give, so Gen is willing to give a bit in return.

code:
192.168.0.0
The hard part is going to be gauging how she reacts to his namedrop.
I might be able to start a murmur, but if that's the trigger, then it's flirting
with disaster. Part of me thinks that laying low would be the safest
move at the moment. Thoughts, everyone?

TheTofuShop
Aug 28, 2009

Gordon

Zeppelin Insanity posted:

"Aaaaagh! I'm here to network! Make a sale or two! I brought her as my +1!"

Truth.

"What are you two selling? I'm no fool - I know it's something having to do with AI." Gordon had come up with countless links to Lebedeva and some Machine God cult. There was no way they were just selling merchandise... Or was there?

"What is Lebedeva planning? Even if you are just doing business, she's the bigger fish in this pond. If she agreed to be your plus one, You know more than you're telling me."

**BZZT**
You receive another text from Hua.

pre:
she cabme to taplk to m.e i'cm a little woozy. greart party.
gently caress. Did Hua just have a few too many...or did Lebedeva do something to her? gently caress - He couldnt have Hua get hurt on his account, this was supposed to be easy.


I'll probably bounce to go see about Hua soon, but I want to see what this guy says to my two questions before I go.

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gordon

"Something to do with AI? The gently caress are you talking about? My company does computers! Hardware, software, and yes, bloody loving AI! Nothing illegal!" You relax the torque a little. The guy's a pushover, and you don't want to break him before he reveals more.

"What do you mean "what is she planning"? You mean she's some loving spy or something? She's a good client, pays lots, buys bulk. She's hot. I wanted to score."

You let him think for a moment, then apply a little more torque. "She told me she represents a government on Alkorta. I didn't dig any deeper, you don't look too closely at sales like that. That's all I know, I swear!"

Truth, as far as you can tell. Guy seems more or less a dead end, though the information isn't entirely useless. He's been played, and even though that doesn't appear particularly difficult, it would be prudent to assume she's good.

Just as you're about to leave and go see about Hua...

*click* The lock. It's not supposed to open from the outside. What the hell?

The door opens, and she walks in.



"Hello, handsome."

*click*

Durandal

Well, that was proving to be the first piece of good news tonight. But when it rains, it pours.

Substance analysis - tech/med/int: 2d6+1+2 9

Foreign compound in one of the glasses, returned half-full. Nitrovirine. Extremely fast-acting poison. Kills in minutes. Messy. Invented by some government agency or other, then spread through espionage and criminal networks over the decades. Eschews subtlety in favour of sending a message.

You review where that glass was this evening. The target is a young blond woman. Can't find her among the guests right now. Probably went to the bathroom. The poison causes nausea before death. Not dead yet, as there have been no screams. The poisoner? The man with the gloves, of course.

Just to be clear, it's not Hua, it's one of the guests.

Zeppelin Insanity fucked around with this message at 11:28 on Jun 15, 2016

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
G≡n.Chatham

The back of his mind wonders how he didn't think of it sooner - the encrypted line back to the CID.

code:
Voight, Chatham.
This party is apparently a powder keg.
Do you have any insight on the name Mila Lebedeva?
Can't get facial recognition, as it's a masquerade.
Apparently she's got some sort of virus or something that puts
the whole manor under her control.

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gen

code:
Chatham, Voight.

Running search now. Stand by.
Two minutes pass, then three.

code:
Chatham, Voight.

No useful data. Standard business visa. Got a picture, sending now. 
Facial recognition doesn't match to any other of our databases.
She hasn't done anything in this region of space to put her on our radar as of yet.
I can reach out to other agencies but I'm going to need something to narrow it down.
Should I send the birds or stand by?

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
Ge∩.Chatham

code:
Voight, Chatham.
It's that weird spot where anything could go down, but nobody
quite has reason yet. Have them ready for my go.
For what it's worth, Mila was here with this guy.
In terms of narrowing things down, try something
along the lines of various computer dealings -
virii, infrastructure, automation, etc. If she's
not from around here, then something had to have
piqued her interest enough to come here.
She may have a standard business visa, but if you
have a chance, it might be worth scrutinizing the details.
Something doesn't add up, but I can't put my finger on it.
Gen sends her the picture of the guy that she came in with, though the mask does get in the way.

Waador
Sep 11, 2001

Smashin' down the light.
Pillbug
Durandal > 5 / 5 HP > 4 AC

G3n.Chaτham posted:

No specific targets, per se. Simply a matter of keeping trouble at bay, and at best, seeing who has connections with a former General. Not sure if you heard about what happened on the prison station Bitterhold, but to put it blunt, it kinda doesn't exist anymore. It's quite possible that this Mila is our link, too. The hard part is going to be gauging how she reacts to his namedrop. I might be able to start a murmur, but if that's the trigger, then it's flirting with disaster. Part of me thinks that laying low would be the safest move at the moment. Thoughts, everyone?
He hadn't actually heard anything about Bitterhold, but in fairness he'd been inside a crate for the last ten days. He didn't have a whole lot of time to spare, but if there was a link it was worth pursuing now when the underlying data might be useful. He ran a search of a number of databases on the public networks to see what correlations might be divined.
pre:
I will attempt to use the public internet to correlate a few data points.
Specifically: Bitterhold, "Former General", and a few hundred Synthetic Insights product serial numbers.
Not sure if this is science or computers, but same bonus either way.  Science appears to be 'research'?
Science 5
Too much data to go through in any reasonable timeframe. A few thousand message boards full of conspiracy theorists and the mentally ill made sorting through the information on the public internet a task that required time, which he didn't have at present.
pre:
192.168.0.588 > Hadn't heard anything about Bitterhold, actually.
I'll look into it when we have some time.  Maybe there's a link.
There were, unfortunately, other issues to deal with at this precise moment in time.

Plot posted:

Foreign compound in one of the glasses, returned half-full. Nitrovirine. Extremely fast-acting poison. Kills in minutes. Messy. Invented by some government agency or other, then spread through espionage and criminal networks over the decades. Eschews subtlety in favour of sending a message. You review where that glass was this evening. The target is a young blond woman. Can't find her among the guests right now. Probably went to the bathroom. The poison causes nausea before death. Not dead yet, as there have been no screams. The poisoner? The man with the gloves, of course.
It wasn't technically his problem, but he might as well lend a hand. At worst the field team might be able to spin it into something useful for them. He knew what supplies were in the medical kit he had on-hand. Predictably, they weren't designed to specifically counteract a government-produced super-toxin. He might be able to keep her alive, though, with a bit of luck.
pre:
I have a medkit with me, which isn't a bad starting point.
I will attempt to formulate a cocktail of chemicals using its material list,
which in combination I am hoping will be able to keep her alive.
I'll leave it up to someone else to administer it, just doing the medical math.
Tech(medical)/Int 10
All he had to do was bind the poison to another chemical, to stop it from continuing to seep through her stomach lining and into her bloodstream. Ironically, a cup of bleach looked like it would work, but would do nearly as much harm. A cocktail of other medical supplies might do the trick, though.
pre:
192.168.0.588 > Bad news though, your window to lay low just closed.
I hope one of you has medical training, because an assassination attempt is
underway.  In the women's bathroom, no less, so have fun explaining that one.
She's been poisoned with Nitrovirine, which is a government-made toxin, incidentally.
I'd guess she has two, maybe three minutes to live?  Blonde girl, young, easy to spot.
Which is to say, she'll be the one puking her guts out right about now.

192.168.0.588 > I've managed to find a few records of partially effective antidotes.
Not sure how pleasant it will be, but I'm sending across what I have.  If you can grab
a medkit from somewhere, you might be able to make do.  Try the waiters, or the first aid
kit in the kitchen in a pinch, either might have one.  Incidentally, the assassin is this guy.
Which I suppose isn't very surprising, as he just sort of looks like an rear end in a top hat, huh?
Anyway, you might want to get moving on this one.
On the bright side, the assassination attempt had provided him with a cup full of Nitrovirine-laced wine. That might come in handy.
pre:
I will store the tainted wine somewhere for later use, if feasible.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Passive: Intelligence (+2) / Constitution (+1) / Wisdom (-1) / Charisma (-2)
Skill (+0): Combat (gunnery) / Culture (traveler / Weltraum Zwang) / Security / Vehicle (space)
Skill (+1): Computer / Navigation / Perception / Science / Stealth / Tech (maltech / medical / postech / pretech)
Armature: Metatool / Toolkit (postech) / Bioscanner / Compad / Navcomp
Inventory: Instapanel (x5) / Lazarus patch (x1) / Medkit (x1) / Type A cell (x6)
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Zeppelin Insanity
Oct 28, 2009

Wahnsinn
Einfach
Wahnsinn
Gen

Your armature's tactical analysis subroutines have proven themselves in combat. What about assassinations?

Tactical analysis - tactics/wis: 2d6+1 7

Apparently, it's capable of that as well.

Rhyne was picky about targets here, didn't want to kill potential allies. Might not have known who the enemies were. Multiple agents on site increases risk of detection. Send one in to gather data. Relay. Second team prepares. Make a messy kill to cause panic. Guests rush out to their vehicles. Exfiltrate in the confusion. Explosives planted on target vehicles or sniper kill-zone, or both. Targets try to escape and run headlong into the trap.

Rhyos
Jan 2, 2006
It's probably my fault.
Phoneposting and PCNPC wrangling!

Gėn•¢hathæm

Certainly a sound plan. Gen gives his tac routines a virtual-5, which coincidentally causes The Commodore to tilt at an angle before he wheels back in, dancing like a drunk robot. Which is to say, clumsily, and coincidentally toward the as-yet-unidentified Mr. Skøllhead.

code:
Doc, you know what to do. 
If you want, I can cause a ruckus, but 
it could at the very least blow the op's cover.
Cara? 'Lil Nova? You ladies on the horn?
We need eyes on the outside. Potential
explosive/sniper interference from
outside, bad juju inside. Possible
poisoning, expected panic.

Voight, did you copy that?
I think our little nuker expected a
counter-op. Situational finger is
tensing on the trigger, everyone.

Adbot
ADBOT LOVES YOU

Apocron
Dec 5, 2005
Ellard

Doesn't hesitate.

code:
Call medics. I'll do what I can.
Surprising whoever is around him and probably his security detail Ellard turns and runs toward the kitchen anyone who obstructs him gets:

"I'm a doctor."

People know when a doctor is running you stay out of their way. On the way he ducks into the kitchen like suggested to see if theirs a medkit available for first aid, if not he continues to the bathroom. He bursts through the door without hesitation and seeks to identify who it is who needs his help.

Gonna look like an idiot and cause a ruckus if our source is wrong! If he finds a medkit he'll use it. Rolling Tech/Med.

  • Locked thread