Boots on the ground bore threat to the hardwood floor of the cheap hotel. Five, six...no, seven. Armed operatives, paying the frightened patrons of the establishment no heed. They were not beholden to the people — they were no public servants, but private enforcers, here for a specific target. There was not a room in this building that mattered to them, save for one.
"Third floor. Go, go, go!"
"Authorization received. Target is kill-on-sight, but avoid shooting the head."
"Got it, got it—"
Third floor, eighth door on the left, if their intel was correct. There was no point in trying to quietly listen or scope out the area. They knew that the target would escape given half the chance, and that sneaking up on her was practically meaningless. So they went loud, proud, and full force.
With a loud BANG, the leader kicked down the door...
...which fell down onto a comically oversized mousetrap, triggering the metal to snap shut, flinging a cream pie across the room, which slammed into the wall, sliding down a vertically-aligned sheet of tinfoil, until the bottom side of the pan hit a wooden board, which tilted, knocking over a domino, which knocked over another domino, over and over along a wide shelf, until the last domino fell onto the controller of a remote-control car — until then laying dormant on the opposite side of the room — which then nudged forward, driving into a beam, which had supported one end of a horizontal track, knocking it down and turning it into a steep slope, down which rolled a metal ball bearing, which at the end of the track, collided with a small switch around which a rubber band was tightly woven, causing it to snap shut over the switch of a fan, which, once turned on, blew a toy sailboat across a pan full of water, and at the end of that pan it collided with a bucket on its side, rolling it forward until it came in contact with another mousetrap on the leg of a table — this one, with a razor blade affixed to the snap — severing the string at its base, which had been woven around to the other end of the table along a series of small pulleys, releasing the tension on the arm of an old, antique record player, which must have cost a fortune considering the lost age from which it came, allowing it to slowly come down to rest on a disc of slowly spinning vinyl, which crackled to life.
The armed operatives had no idea what to do. Some of them had ducked behind the door frame, expecting a trap of some kind. Others had raised their weapons, darting the guns wildly around the room, following the mechanism as it did the same. Only one of the armed operatives strained their ears, picking out a slight sound behind the low-quality audio.
"There's ticking." She tells the others, venturing slowly into the room. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was unmistakable as she focused her senses on it. But, where was it coming from?
Under the floor. The blade of her combat knife came alight with heat, and she burned through its charge to dismantle the floorboards, revealing, beneath the wood, a small box with many wires spindling out from its sides, and displaying a small, digital countdown.
"Oh shit, oh shit!!" The armed operative threw her arms back motioning the others out of the room. "Bomb! It's a bomb!!" The team scattered, the vinyl continued to play, and the floor continued to be assaulted by boots carrying the weight of heavy gear. Time progressed, heedless.
"He he heeee!" Elsewhere in the city, that target had just received the signal that her trap had been sprung. Well, not a trap so much as a delay measure. In that it delayed them for all of about thirty seconds. Some part of her demanded that she stop trying to justify it, and simply admit that she was doing what she did best — just fucking with them — but it seemed like a more noble cause, a more just action, if she had some kind of reason or something.
Was it the reason that made something noble, or just? No, that wasn't it. The reasoning behind the action wasn't something that even the actioner themselves could trust, after all. People fool themselves, it's in their nature. They inevitably become their masks, until the time that those masks are shed and another is donned. Thus, what meaning is there in 'intention', a lie to oneself? All actions have the same intention, in the end — enjoyment. Fulfillment. Fun. Whether direct or indirect, all roads lead back to it, and to deny that ultimate goal is to wander like a stray dog, hungering in a field of meat.
But not her, not this girl, no. She knew. She knew the truth of human nature, the lies of intention, and the utter absurdity of trying to justify one's actions by wrapping them in the tarp of a 'noble cause'. She was happy, smiling even as the world came crashing down around her, because even now, she was true to herself. Even in these, her darkest days, she lived as she had always lived, did as she had always done, so that she could laugh as she had always laughed.
So perhaps that part of her brain was right. She could say that it was noble because they were servants of the rich, those with money and power, that which she detested and those who held it that she detested. It wouldn't be false. When she was younger, she had lived with such a burning spirit, a 'nobility', a 'justice' steeped in punishing those who had amassed wealth and used it to oppress others. But while she certainly detested such people, to the point of targeting them near-exclusively, she had eventually come to terms with the fact that her 'justice' was nothing more than an excuse to do what she really wanted to do, and moreover, that no such excuse had ever been needed from the very beginning.
So now, as she ran, as she laughed, she assuaged her impending doom with the knowledge that today would really be no different than any other day, save for the slight deviation that she would very likely die at the end.
Oh well.
"Hands in the air! Don't move!" As her strides reached the middle of a long bridge, a second team of armed operatives blocked her path, circling around her and shining their beaming flashlights into her eyes. A third team was rapidly approaching from the other side. In just a few seconds, the girl was surrounded, so bathed in light that she might have thought it was daytime.
"Well, see...I have this thing when it comes to following directions." In a calm voice, and still sporting a triumphant smile as she turned to the light, the unrepentant criminal faced them down with only one regret, buried deep, deep in her heart. "So, when you tell me not to move, that really gets me movi—"
She didn't hear the bang. The fabric of the suit around her heart tore from the force of the bullet, and she saw shreds of it above her as she fell, against the sky, and then, against the water, the moon and stars becoming a wavy, unfocused image.
"Jeez, sis...!"
A small girl, her hair dyed brightly, gave an annoyed shout through the chilly winter air. Time and time again, she had been punished for things that were her fault, and that was fine. It was when she had to deal with someone else's problems that she got really cranky about it.
In this case, that other person was on the ground at her feet, legs splayed, two faint trickles of blood running down to her sock. The offending snake had already slithered away. There was no one to rake the leaves in this uninhabited place - the autumn blanket still covered the forest floor, hiding all manner of secrets, animate and inanimate.
"Why'd you have to go and get bit!?" The younger girl demanded, "You know what mom's going to say! If she hears you got hurt, she won't let us play in the woods anymore!"
"I...I'm sorry..." The older girl could only apologize pitifully. She was already crying, both from the pain of the snake bite, and simply from having inconvenienced her sister. "I...it just jumped out, and..."
"You're always such a crybaby!!" The younger girl yelled even louder, stomping her foot into the forest floor, "You're supposed to be the older sister!!"
"I...I'm sorry..."
An exasperated sigh was all she could muster. Her older sister was crying and sobbing, her face turned down to the ground. She was used to hearing her sister cry. That girl did it all the time. Any time anything went wrong, any time she got hurt, any time someone else wasn't satisfied with something she had done, all she knew how to do was cry.
"Come on..." The crying girl's tears stopped for just a moment, in blank surprise, as the younger girl began picking her up by the arm, weakly giving her the support she needed to walk. "I'll take you to the hospital. Just keep it a secret, otherwise mom will get all bent out of shape." Always having to pick up the slack. She complained about it, but in the end, she didn't mind, and always came through. It was for her family, after all. "Don't worry, I can pay for it. I got the money."
"But..." Her sister blinked, a stray, leftover tear making its way down her face as her voice cracked. "...I thought...I mean...only adults are supposed to have money. Dad takes everything I make, and you don't have a job, so how...?"
"I cheated a little. I don't really want to get into it, but I...kinda...sorta stole it." The pair were moving at a quicker pace, now, adjusting to each other's rhythm. "Just don't tell mom and dad, okay? If I have to tell them where I got it, it'll be bad."
"O...okay..."
The two of them walked slowly, back towards the city. Just like her older sister only knew how to cry, one might say that all she knew how to do, as the younger sister, was pick on others. Maybe that was true. But...that didn't mean that love was gone from her. Of all the people in the galaxy, there was one person who she cared about more than anyone else.
Spending so much time on that computer of hers. If she had known that Anzhela wouldn't be around forever, maybe they would have played outside more often.
"Don't worry, Anz." Anastasiya smiled to her older sister, "As long as we stick together..."
"Targ█t is not con██rmed d███, repeat, not confirm██ dead...T██ms B and C are sc███ing the d█wnstre█m c█ty partitions n█w..."
The crackling, intercepted transmission roused the girl from her slumber. It seemed like sound that came into her ears, but it was actually a signal jolted directly into her primary auditory cortex — so, even though her ears were ringing, the sound came through as clearly as it could be received.
Laying on her back on a riverbank in the outskirts of the city, looking up at the moon, she still wasn't quite sure what had happened. The girl was half-dreaming, half-awake, as dirty, muddy water evicted itself from her lungs.
"Sec█ring th█ per█met█r █f th█ c█ty...t█rget ██ █ young woman ███████ █ ████n bodysuit, susp█ct█d to ██ ██ military-grade arms protection...do not █ngage with ballistic fir█..."
Anastasiya languidly raised a tired arm above her, reaching towards the moon. If she angled her hand just right, it almost looked like she could grab hold of it.
But, there was nothing in her hand. She would never reach such a far away place. The faraway place where her sister had gone.
"Anzhela...where...are you...?"
The one regret, buried deep in her heart. Until they could see each other again, until she knew for sure that her older sister was alive, and where she was waiting, she couldn't die.
At heart, she was a wild, carefree person who never allowed herself to be burdened by anything. But a long time ago, long before she had known any better, she had taken on something of a burden after all.
A burdensome person who only knew how to cry.
Anastasiya Aleksandrovna Levin
Tier ③ ——— Regional
Within her field of expertise, SIGINT is capable of undertaking measures that would normally require a dedicated team. But her ability, while heavily augmented, ultimately remains within the realm of what is considered reasonably possible, given a skilled team with sufficient resources, and perhaps a wider time frame. The fact that she can do so much as a single individual, however, remains noteworthy.
Technology stolen from the private company NeoCortex©, the Neural Implant, codenamed 'Mnemonic', amplifies SIGINT's already-dangerous talents in ways that make her a truly exceptional threat to the right target. Already a skilled hacker from a young age, with a machine in her brain, the need for an interface is removed, and no device within signalling range is safe.
Its power source is SIGINT's own bio-electricity, and she commands it with her thoughts. In a failure case, where her brain is unable to troubleshoot, there is a port and jack hidden under her hair, which can be plugged into for diagnostics, or otherwise used for direct transmission. However, access is heavily protected against anyone other than SIGINT herself.
As far as she knows, it is the only instance of the specific model in existence, as NeoCortex© was never able to properly implement its prototypes of the Mnemonic design on its own, at least in public records.
She hasn't yet gained access to all of its features...not knowing what secrets the device holds, she continues to use it to further her goals, hoping that its mystery will be revealed along the way.
SIGINT began her 'career' when she was just a child, taking cracks at high-grossing companies in the private sector in order to help her then-poor family. From there, it expounded from a hobby into an obsession, and it wasn't long before the reasoning of 'helping her family' was just an excuse for going wherever she wished, and doing whatever she pleased. A prodigy in her field, to SIGINT, a locked door is merely a challenge.
A military-grade device, stolen from an armed operative and refitted. It is an electronic device which no longer has any external interface, and as such, can only be commanded using her Neural Implant.
Following an incident where it took a high-caliber round, allowing for water damage of some of its interiors, it became damaged and inoperable for a time. After the death of Anya Alexi[4], who possessed a similar suit, she was able to use that device as a base to properly repair her own.
Of course, SIGINT generally sticks to civilian clothing, only donning this hassle of a suit when she knows that she'll be in danger.
A hobby that SIGINT picked up around the time she began building computers. Her engineering talents are mostly limited to electronics — something like the engine of a ship would most likely be beyond her. Anything dealing with circuitboards, however — robots and mechs included — she's more familiar with. When prepared, SIGINT carries has a laptop case which contains dormant robots for deployment.
SIGINT's mental connection with her robots do not make use of the Neural Implant's «Superior Encryption». This is because, in order to do so, the algorithms used would have to be stored on the remote device, and could become compromised if a robot was salvaged. However, after studying Melvin, a military drone acquired during her escape from Frixion Prime[1], she was able to reverse-engineer a separate, but more commonplace, military-level spread-spectrum telemetry protocol, which is used to protect her remote signals from jamming and interception.
While SIGINT can create any number of robots, given enough material, she can only carry so many at a time. Each robot has its own carrying limit, specified in their individual descriptions.
SIGINT is always taking inspiration from technology she encounters, and ideas for new designs enter her head almost daily. If especially struck by something, a new type of robot can have its design refined, constructed, and added to the list, pending approval.
SIGINT's room aboard the Penumbra contains a respectable amount of general equipment, with which she lives her day-to-day life. She shifts between 'moods', at some times meandering about the ship and interacting with the crew, and at other times, locking herself in for days at a time as she obsessively works on building out an idea that took root in her mind. As such, it's not uncommon for her to 'go missing' on the ship every now and then, usually to emerge from her dimly-lit cave with some random new creation. If the crew is lucky, it'll be something that doesn't actively detract from the ship's continued functioning whilst active.
"Third floor. Go, go, go!"
"Authorization received. Target is kill-on-sight, but avoid shooting the head."
"Got it, got it—"
Third floor, eighth door on the left, if their intel was correct. There was no point in trying to quietly listen or scope out the area. They knew that the target would escape given half the chance, and that sneaking up on her was practically meaningless. So they went loud, proud, and full force.
With a loud BANG, the leader kicked down the door...
...which fell down onto a comically oversized mousetrap, triggering the metal to snap shut, flinging a cream pie across the room, which slammed into the wall, sliding down a vertically-aligned sheet of tinfoil, until the bottom side of the pan hit a wooden board, which tilted, knocking over a domino, which knocked over another domino, over and over along a wide shelf, until the last domino fell onto the controller of a remote-control car — until then laying dormant on the opposite side of the room — which then nudged forward, driving into a beam, which had supported one end of a horizontal track, knocking it down and turning it into a steep slope, down which rolled a metal ball bearing, which at the end of the track, collided with a small switch around which a rubber band was tightly woven, causing it to snap shut over the switch of a fan, which, once turned on, blew a toy sailboat across a pan full of water, and at the end of that pan it collided with a bucket on its side, rolling it forward until it came in contact with another mousetrap on the leg of a table — this one, with a razor blade affixed to the snap — severing the string at its base, which had been woven around to the other end of the table along a series of small pulleys, releasing the tension on the arm of an old, antique record player, which must have cost a fortune considering the lost age from which it came, allowing it to slowly come down to rest on a disc of slowly spinning vinyl, which crackled to life.
The armed operatives had no idea what to do. Some of them had ducked behind the door frame, expecting a trap of some kind. Others had raised their weapons, darting the guns wildly around the room, following the mechanism as it did the same. Only one of the armed operatives strained their ears, picking out a slight sound behind the low-quality audio.
"There's ticking." She tells the others, venturing slowly into the room. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was unmistakable as she focused her senses on it. But, where was it coming from?
Under the floor. The blade of her combat knife came alight with heat, and she burned through its charge to dismantle the floorboards, revealing, beneath the wood, a small box with many wires spindling out from its sides, and displaying a small, digital countdown.
00 : 03
"Oh shit, oh shit!!" The armed operative threw her arms back motioning the others out of the room. "Bomb! It's a bomb!!" The team scattered, the vinyl continued to play, and the floor continued to be assaulted by boots carrying the weight of heavy gear. Time progressed, heedless.
00 : 02
00 : 01
00 : 00
lol : jk
00 : 01
00 : 00
lol : jk
"He he heeee!" Elsewhere in the city, that target had just received the signal that her trap had been sprung. Well, not a trap so much as a delay measure. In that it delayed them for all of about thirty seconds. Some part of her demanded that she stop trying to justify it, and simply admit that she was doing what she did best — just fucking with them — but it seemed like a more noble cause, a more just action, if she had some kind of reason or something.
Was it the reason that made something noble, or just? No, that wasn't it. The reasoning behind the action wasn't something that even the actioner themselves could trust, after all. People fool themselves, it's in their nature. They inevitably become their masks, until the time that those masks are shed and another is donned. Thus, what meaning is there in 'intention', a lie to oneself? All actions have the same intention, in the end — enjoyment. Fulfillment. Fun. Whether direct or indirect, all roads lead back to it, and to deny that ultimate goal is to wander like a stray dog, hungering in a field of meat.
But not her, not this girl, no. She knew. She knew the truth of human nature, the lies of intention, and the utter absurdity of trying to justify one's actions by wrapping them in the tarp of a 'noble cause'. She was happy, smiling even as the world came crashing down around her, because even now, she was true to herself. Even in these, her darkest days, she lived as she had always lived, did as she had always done, so that she could laugh as she had always laughed.
So perhaps that part of her brain was right. She could say that it was noble because they were servants of the rich, those with money and power, that which she detested and those who held it that she detested. It wouldn't be false. When she was younger, she had lived with such a burning spirit, a 'nobility', a 'justice' steeped in punishing those who had amassed wealth and used it to oppress others. But while she certainly detested such people, to the point of targeting them near-exclusively, she had eventually come to terms with the fact that her 'justice' was nothing more than an excuse to do what she really wanted to do, and moreover, that no such excuse had ever been needed from the very beginning.
So now, as she ran, as she laughed, she assuaged her impending doom with the knowledge that today would really be no different than any other day, save for the slight deviation that she would very likely die at the end.
Oh well.
"Hands in the air! Don't move!" As her strides reached the middle of a long bridge, a second team of armed operatives blocked her path, circling around her and shining their beaming flashlights into her eyes. A third team was rapidly approaching from the other side. In just a few seconds, the girl was surrounded, so bathed in light that she might have thought it was daytime.
"Well, see...I have this thing when it comes to following directions." In a calm voice, and still sporting a triumphant smile as she turned to the light, the unrepentant criminal faced them down with only one regret, buried deep, deep in her heart. "So, when you tell me not to move, that really gets me movi—"
She didn't hear the bang. The fabric of the suit around her heart tore from the force of the bullet, and she saw shreds of it above her as she fell, against the sky, and then, against the water, the moon and stars becoming a wavy, unfocused image.
"Jeez, sis...!"
A small girl, her hair dyed brightly, gave an annoyed shout through the chilly winter air. Time and time again, she had been punished for things that were her fault, and that was fine. It was when she had to deal with someone else's problems that she got really cranky about it.
In this case, that other person was on the ground at her feet, legs splayed, two faint trickles of blood running down to her sock. The offending snake had already slithered away. There was no one to rake the leaves in this uninhabited place - the autumn blanket still covered the forest floor, hiding all manner of secrets, animate and inanimate.
"Why'd you have to go and get bit!?" The younger girl demanded, "You know what mom's going to say! If she hears you got hurt, she won't let us play in the woods anymore!"
"I...I'm sorry..." The older girl could only apologize pitifully. She was already crying, both from the pain of the snake bite, and simply from having inconvenienced her sister. "I...it just jumped out, and..."
"You're always such a crybaby!!" The younger girl yelled even louder, stomping her foot into the forest floor, "You're supposed to be the older sister!!"
"I...I'm sorry..."
An exasperated sigh was all she could muster. Her older sister was crying and sobbing, her face turned down to the ground. She was used to hearing her sister cry. That girl did it all the time. Any time anything went wrong, any time she got hurt, any time someone else wasn't satisfied with something she had done, all she knew how to do was cry.
"Come on..." The crying girl's tears stopped for just a moment, in blank surprise, as the younger girl began picking her up by the arm, weakly giving her the support she needed to walk. "I'll take you to the hospital. Just keep it a secret, otherwise mom will get all bent out of shape." Always having to pick up the slack. She complained about it, but in the end, she didn't mind, and always came through. It was for her family, after all. "Don't worry, I can pay for it. I got the money."
"But..." Her sister blinked, a stray, leftover tear making its way down her face as her voice cracked. "...I thought...I mean...only adults are supposed to have money. Dad takes everything I make, and you don't have a job, so how...?"
"I cheated a little. I don't really want to get into it, but I...kinda...sorta stole it." The pair were moving at a quicker pace, now, adjusting to each other's rhythm. "Just don't tell mom and dad, okay? If I have to tell them where I got it, it'll be bad."
"O...okay..."
The two of them walked slowly, back towards the city. Just like her older sister only knew how to cry, one might say that all she knew how to do, as the younger sister, was pick on others. Maybe that was true. But...that didn't mean that love was gone from her. Of all the people in the galaxy, there was one person who she cared about more than anyone else.
Spending so much time on that computer of hers. If she had known that Anzhela wouldn't be around forever, maybe they would have played outside more often.
"Don't worry, Anz." Anastasiya smiled to her older sister, "As long as we stick together..."
"Targ█t is not con██rmed d███, repeat, not confirm██ dead...T██ms B and C are sc███ing the d█wnstre█m c█ty partitions n█w..."
The crackling, intercepted transmission roused the girl from her slumber. It seemed like sound that came into her ears, but it was actually a signal jolted directly into her primary auditory cortex — so, even though her ears were ringing, the sound came through as clearly as it could be received.
Laying on her back on a riverbank in the outskirts of the city, looking up at the moon, she still wasn't quite sure what had happened. The girl was half-dreaming, half-awake, as dirty, muddy water evicted itself from her lungs.
"Sec█ring th█ per█met█r █f th█ c█ty...t█rget ██ █ young woman ███████ █ ████n bodysuit, susp█ct█d to ██ ██ military-grade arms protection...do not █ngage with ballistic fir█..."
Anastasiya languidly raised a tired arm above her, reaching towards the moon. If she angled her hand just right, it almost looked like she could grab hold of it.
But, there was nothing in her hand. She would never reach such a far away place. The faraway place where her sister had gone.
"Anzhela...where...are you...?"
The one regret, buried deep in her heart. Until they could see each other again, until she knew for sure that her older sister was alive, and where she was waiting, she couldn't die.
At heart, she was a wild, carefree person who never allowed herself to be burdened by anything. But a long time ago, long before she had known any better, she had taken on something of a burden after all.
A burdensome person who only knew how to cry.
SIGINT
Anastasiya Aleksandrovna Levin
Title ——— "Best Hacker In The Universe"
(According to herself)
Height ——— 164 cm
Weight ——— 52 kg
Age ——— 20, appears 18
Species ——— Human
Home Planet ——— Frixion
(According to herself)
Height ——— 164 cm
Weight ——— 52 kg
Age ——— 20, appears 18
Species ——— Human
Home Planet ——— Frixion
Tier ③ ——— Regional
Within her field of expertise, SIGINT is capable of undertaking measures that would normally require a dedicated team. But her ability, while heavily augmented, ultimately remains within the realm of what is considered reasonably possible, given a skilled team with sufficient resources, and perhaps a wider time frame. The fact that she can do so much as a single individual, however, remains noteworthy.
Neural Implant [Locked] ③
Technology stolen from the private company NeoCortex©, the Neural Implant, codenamed 'Mnemonic', amplifies SIGINT's already-dangerous talents in ways that make her a truly exceptional threat to the right target. Already a skilled hacker from a young age, with a machine in her brain, the need for an interface is removed, and no device within signalling range is safe.
Its power source is SIGINT's own bio-electricity, and she commands it with her thoughts. In a failure case, where her brain is unable to troubleshoot, there is a port and jack hidden under her hair, which can be plugged into for diagnostics, or otherwise used for direct transmission. However, access is heavily protected against anyone other than SIGINT herself.
As far as she knows, it is the only instance of the specific model in existence, as NeoCortex© was never able to properly implement its prototypes of the Mnemonic design on its own, at least in public records.
She hasn't yet gained access to all of its features...not knowing what secrets the device holds, she continues to use it to further her goals, hoping that its mystery will be revealed along the way.
- Interface ——— The ability to operate an electronic device without using physical medium, such as, keyboards, monitors, etc. Combined with her «Hacking», SIGINT can perform unauthorized access of any electronic device within the signalling range. Any electronic countermeasures possessed by that device, such as encryption, access protection, or multi-factor authentication, must be defeated by conventional means before such access can take place.
The effective signalling range of the device varies according to the environment. In a noiseless environment, such as outer space, or an undeveloped planet, interface can be made at a maximum range of 5 kilometers, attenuating exponentially. In a noisy environment, such as in proximity to a star, or on a technologically advanced planet, the effective range decreases sharply. The strength of the signal isn't limited by the maximum output of the device, but due to a hardware limiter which prevents the signal strength from reaching a level that would cause physical damage to SIGINT's brain. - Superior Encryption ——— The core of the Mnemonic is a quantum computer armed with unpublished algorithms, and excels at defeating encryption measures. Civilian countermeasures, in general, impose only a few clock cycles of delay against unauthorized access. Only military or nation-state level defenses consistently create a significant delay, forcing SIGINT to focus on working through them in order to adversely affect such devices.
As a countermeasure, the same level of sophistication protects the device from unwanted access to anyone other than its owner, or the high-ranking NeoCortex© operatives chasing her. The structure of the device, both in its hardware and its software, is simply beyond the pale for any individual, unaffiliated actor. - Sensory Modification ——— SIGINT's interface with the Mnemonic is purely neural. It signals the brain directly, able to overlay images in her vision, act as a phone that bypasses her own ears, and even turn her senses on and off like a light switch.
When she was younger, SIGINT required glasses in order to see properly — however, with the Mnemonic, her vision is corrected at the cortex level, though her eyes remain damaged. She still keeps a set of glasses in case the Neural Implant has to be completely switched off for whatever reason, and also just because she's used to wearing them. - Biological Process Regulation ——— If SIGINT allows, a limiter can be released, which allows the Mnemonic to regulate biological processes, such as heart rate and blood pressure. This ability can keep SIGINT operational in times of physical duress, and reduce the effectiveness of some poisons and toxins.
- Mental Fortification ——— If the process-regulatory limiter is released, the Mnemonic can detect abnormalities in brain function and neurologically correct for them. Forms of mental interference, such as suggestion and hypnosis, don't operate at full strength. She also has to turn it off in order to get drunk, which is the reason that it's usually off.
- Pegvisomant ——— A medication that SIGINT is forced to take on a regular basis. It is a Growth Hormone Receptor Antagonist (GHRA), normally used to treat a disease in which the human body produces too much of a growth hormone — in this case, to cause it to produce barely any. Were SIGINT to allow her body to grow naturally, her expanding cranial cavity, as well as even subtle changes in head structure, would bear the risk of causing damage to her brain, the Mnemonic, or both. As such, it is crucial that her body is kept from growing.
She has been taking the medication semi-regularly since she was eighteen, and still appears as such, despite actually being twenty years old. She wouldn't be in immediate danger if she were to lose access to the drug, but in the long term, going without it could force her to excise the Neural Implant for the sake of her health. At the moment, she has a steady supply of it from online dealers, but if she were to lose access, it would be a problem that she would seek to correct right away.
Hacking ②
SIGINT began her 'career' when she was just a child, taking cracks at high-grossing companies in the private sector in order to help her then-poor family. From there, it expounded from a hobby into an obsession, and it wasn't long before the reasoning of 'helping her family' was just an excuse for going wherever she wished, and doing whatever she pleased. A prodigy in her field, to SIGINT, a locked door is merely a challenge.
- Information Gathering ——— If knowledge is power, then SIGINT is in the business of power as a currency. There's very little information that she can't get her hands on — anything short of classified information or carefully-guarded data in the private sector can be obtained with enough time and dedication. How much trouble it'll get her into is another matter.
- Resources ——— In an age where money is digital, dollars and data are one in the same. SIGINT's hacking abilities allow her to unlawfully transfer credits from wealthy targets, or even counterfeit credits if she so wished. In all her life since she picked up her first computer, SIGINT has never wanted for money — though, she's also never needed much.
- Document Forgery ——— Just like money, any document that's digitally signed can be digitally forged. Passports, exceptions to travel restrictions, deeds to ships or plots of land, etc., can all be created, given advance notice of the purpose and sufficient time. Of course, documents don't always speak for themselves.
- Identity Theft ——— One of her first crimes remains one of her most useful. SIGINT can digitally impersonate just about anyone for the purposes of monetary transactions, tollway passages, access checkpoints, etc., as long as she's had time to dig up their data. As SIGINT is considered legally dead, in an effort to throw her pursuers off her trail, this comes in handy for getting around.
- Black Market Contacts ——— While a small girl such as herself has no clout in a dangerous back alley, she can get most of what she needs from online black markets, as long as she can secure shipping of the contraband to the dealer's liking. The medication that she's dependent on, Pegvisomant, is obtained through these means.
Military or nation-state level items generally cannot be obtained, as most dealers are civilians, such as herself.
Thermo-Optic Bodysuit ④
A military-grade device, stolen from an armed operative and refitted. It is an electronic device which no longer has any external interface, and as such, can only be commanded using her Neural Implant.
Following an incident where it took a high-caliber round, allowing for water damage of some of its interiors, it became damaged and inoperable for a time. After the death of Anya Alexi[4], who possessed a similar suit, she was able to use that device as a base to properly repair her own.
Of course, SIGINT generally sticks to civilian clothing, only donning this hassle of a suit when she knows that she'll be in danger.
- Active Camoflauge (Optic) ——— By displacing electromagnetic waves around her within the spectrum of visible light, SIGINT becomes effectively invisible to the naked eye. There is a small degree of distortion that can be picked up by especially keen or enhanced senses, but to a normal human, visuals are useless. However, this is only within the sphere of visuals — the suit does not mask her breathing, or make her footsteps less noisy. It's still possible, though much more difficult, to discern her exact location while the suit is active, especially in terrain such as snow or sand, where footprints would still be left behind.
- Active Camoflauge (Extraoptic) ——— In addition to the spectrum of visible light, the suit's obscuring properties also extend out to wider bands, inclusive of both infrared and ultraviolet waves. This causes infrared thermal imaging to fail against her while the suit is active, as well as lidar tracking. This aspect of the suit is generally not useful versus humans, but comes in handy for fooling machines, where infrared detection is especially common.
- Anti-Projectile Kinetic Armor ——— The body of the suit is supplanted with layers of kevlar treated with shear-thickening fluid, a lightweight liquid which becomes a firm solid on impact. This dual-shock treatment can negate bodily harm from anti-personnel rounds targeting the torso. The legs have less protection, due to a higher need for maneuverability, and are only able to stop small arms fire (.22 or 9mm equivalent).
However, kevlar is only effective against zero-acceleration ballistic weapons. The suit provides no more protection than basic leather versus melee weapons, such as baseball bats, knives, or swords. - Battery Pack ——— The crystalline-type battery of the suit is located in the back, a fourty-centimeter long bar that stretches down from her shoulder blades to her lower spine. It has a battery life of two hours at full operation, and afterwards must be recharged manually, which takes eight hours. If the battery is damaged, such as if SIGINT takes a blow to the back, the suit has a high chance of becoming inoperable. While the battery is empty or damaged, its camouflage does not function, though it retains its ballistic resistance.
Crystalline batteries are extremely unstable with respect to physical impact. If the battery pack is struck with enough force to partially collapse its protective casing, a set of explosive caps will eject the battery entirely, so that the flying sparks do not harm its wearer. In the case of an ejection event, unless the damaged battery is salvaged and repaired, it must be replaced completely before the suit can be operated again. (This can be accomplished through «Black Market Contacts»)
Robotics ②
A hobby that SIGINT picked up around the time she began building computers. Her engineering talents are mostly limited to electronics — something like the engine of a ship would most likely be beyond her. Anything dealing with circuitboards, however — robots and mechs included — she's more familiar with. When prepared, SIGINT carries has a laptop case which contains dormant robots for deployment.
SIGINT's mental connection with her robots do not make use of the Neural Implant's «Superior Encryption». This is because, in order to do so, the algorithms used would have to be stored on the remote device, and could become compromised if a robot was salvaged. However, after studying Melvin, a military drone acquired during her escape from Frixion Prime[1], she was able to reverse-engineer a separate, but more commonplace, military-level spread-spectrum telemetry protocol, which is used to protect her remote signals from jamming and interception.
While SIGINT can create any number of robots, given enough material, she can only carry so many at a time. Each robot has its own carrying limit, specified in their individual descriptions.
SIGINT is always taking inspiration from technology she encounters, and ideas for new designs enter her head almost daily. If especially struck by something, a new type of robot can have its design refined, constructed, and added to the list, pending approval.
- Skitterbugs ——— A small robot suited to fly-on-the-wall surveillance. It has no AI or external interface, instead reliant on a Neural Implant to command. Taking advantage of her neural interface, a Skitterbug live-streams its visual feed directly to SIGINT's brain, allowing her to effectively share senses with any deployed Skitterbug, or even multiple simultaneously. Her only limit to commanding and viewing through multiple Skitterbugs simultaneously is her own mental acuity and multitasking ability, allowing her to semi-comfortably deploy a maximum of three at a time to scout an area. Juggling control of more than three is possible, as long as the Skitterbugs are able to be left inert in their location, dependent on the situation. If a Skitterbug leaves the signalling range of her Mnemonic, it immediately becomes inert.
Its eye is a small camera with minor zoom capabilities, capable of seeing clearly enough for facial recognition up to 100 meters from its location, assuming no obstruction. It is also capable of nightvision and infrared thermal imaging. On its bottom is a unidirectional microphone, locked in a forward position, which can accurately pick out and capture sounds from up to 10 meters away, with a capture angle of 15 degrees in any direction.
The design has no persistent storage mechanism in its body, meaning any footage not captured by SIGINT's mind is lost. Its hardware is heavily slimmed down in order to reduce its weight, in order for it to be able to generate lift by flapping its wings[2]. It can fly at 25 kph, fast enough to keep up with an average human's high-exertion movement speed.
In addition, it can connect itself physically to an electronic device that it can touch, allowing SIGINT to use it as a proxy device for «Interface» — meaning that, if she interferes with an electronic device in this manner, the signalling involved will appear to source from the Skitterbug, and SIGINT's location isn't given away by her actions. As mentioned, however, the Skitterbug requires physical contact with a device port in order for this to function. It has a number of monofiliament 'feelers' which can function as wires, in place of a proper jack.
Its body measures at 5 cm across and 2 cm wide. The shell is made of thermoset plastic reinforced with nanoadditive graphene, while the wings are expanded polypropylene foam. The inset camera has a frame of mostly aluminium. The robot has no combat features, and can be destroyed by any attack.
The machine is powered by a small, coin cell capacitor battery with a lifespan of one hour, after which they must be charged manually, which takes fifteen minutes.
They are easy to produce. As long as SIGINT retains her «Black Market Contacts» to get building materials, it can be assumed that she has at least a dozen on-hand at any given time.
- Frisbee ——— After coming aboard the Penumbra, SIGINT had a chance to intricately study its long-range signalling and detection devices, not meant for use on planet surfaces, but instead to map and communicate through the vast expanse of outer space. She had never had the chance to inspect such advanced and powerful equipment before, and using the ship's equipment as inspiration, she constructed her first iteration of the Frisbee in a single, caffeine-fueled, 40-hour sitting.
It is a medium-sized robot, suited for wide-area scanning and surveillance. If the Skitterbugs are a 'fly on the wall', then the Frisbee is an 'eye in the sky'. It has a limited AI, allowing it only to float in place if not given any commands, or if rendered inert. Just like the Skitterbug, it communicates directly with SIGINT's brain, allowing her to see through its sensors as long as she remains within signalling range. Due to the sheer amount of input generated by the Frisbee's sensors, sharing senses with it demands complete attention, to the point of losing the senses of her own body. The design has no persistent storage mechanism in its body, meaning any data not captured by SIGINT's mind is lost.
The Frisbee is based on the complete astrionics sensory suite of a Max-One-Five model TRD spacecraft, and is heavily equipped. Within a maximum radius of 10 kilometers of its location, it simultaneously runs active sonar (topological mapping), infrared mapping (energy sources and warm-blooded life forms), a magnetometer (detection of significant magnetic fields), radar mapping (velocity and direction of moving objects via radio waves), and lidar mapping (velocity and direction of moving objects via ultraviolet waves).
In addition, it can signal other electronic devices within its range, allowing SIGINT to use it as a proxy device for «Interface» — meaning that, when she interferes with an electronic device, the signalling involved will appear to source from the Frisbee, and SIGINT's location isn't given away by her actions.
Unlike the Skitterbug, the Frisbee's movement abilities are sharply limited. It is an ionocraft, hovering in the air by passing an extremely high-voltage current along its outer rim and ionizing the surrounding air, producing upward thrust[3]. Due to this propulsion mechanism, it is only capable of ascending or descending, once deployed. Its maximum altitude is 50 meters.
Furthermore, due to its nature, it is constantly broadcasting its position every moment that it is active. Due to the fact that its location can be captured by any passive sensor, and the fact that it cannot be moved once deployed, strategic location is crucial in order to make use of the Frisbee.
Its body has a diameter of 40 cm and a height of 15 cm. The shell is a lightweight aluminium alloy, with a purified silver corona wire about the rim. The robot has no combat features, and can be destroyed by any attack.
The machine is powered by a crystalline battery with a lifespan of two hours, after which it must be charged manually, which takes eight hours. Crystalline batteries are extremely unstable with respect to physical impact, and a destroyed Frisbee may be dangerous to approach, due to flying sparks and electrical discharge, which can complicate salvaging and retrieval.
The Frisbee is difficult to produce. Much of the astrionics equipment is considered military level, and therefore, it cannot be produced with «Black Market Contacts» as the material source. In order to build and rebuild them, SIGINT must retain access to the Smuggling Network Critical Point. The main source of parts is from material meant for spacecraft interior repair or replacement.
It has a maximum capacity of one per mission, due to its size and weight.
My Room ①
SIGINT's room aboard the Penumbra contains a respectable amount of general equipment, with which she lives her day-to-day life. She shifts between 'moods', at some times meandering about the ship and interacting with the crew, and at other times, locking herself in for days at a time as she obsessively works on building out an idea that took root in her mind. As such, it's not uncommon for her to 'go missing' on the ship every now and then, usually to emerge from her dimly-lit cave with some random new creation. If the crew is lucky, it'll be something that doesn't actively detract from the ship's continued functioning whilst active.
- Playlist ——— SIGINT usually has music playing in her room. If anyone is present in the room, it can reasonably be assumed that some section of SIGINT's playlist is running in the background. The Playlist is occasionally updated as SIGINT finds more music that she likes.
MIYAVI — Real? ►
MIYAVI — The Others ►
Steam Powered Giraffe — Mecto Amore ►
Steam Powered Giraffe — Brass Goggles ►
Tim Minchin — If I Didn't Have You ►
Weird Al Yankovic — Hardware Store ►
Matt and Kim — Daylight ►
Jamie Berry — Peeping Tom ►
Caravan Palace — Lone Digger ►
Eminem — The Monster ►
Strong Bad and The Cheat — Everybody to the Limit ► - Server Farm ——— A collection of high-powered computers, allowing her room to function as a small data center. There are no monitors or peripherals to be found, as she uses «Interface» to interact with them. They're mostly used for storing data, such as camera footage captured by her robots, as they don't possess the ability to store their own recordings, and SIGINT's Neural Implant doesn't have a tremendous amount of storage space.
- Computers ——— Although she's gotten used to using the Mnemonic to use computers, she still has a fondness for good old muscle memory. Two or three ordinary laptops can be found sprinkled around the room, which she uses just as normal computers. Her favored activities involve arguing with strangers on the internet and looking at cat videos.
- Inductive Charging Pad ——— A wide, smooth platform which can wirelessly charge battery-powered devices placed on top of it. It can usually be seen floating a number of Skitterbugs, and the occasional Frisbee. SIGINT also leaves her camo-suit on it after use. It doesn't charge devices any faster than simply plugging them in, but the ability to simply charge any batteries in the vicinity, in parallel, is a useful time-saver when recouping or testing.
- 3-D Printer ——— Useful for robotics. For many common, non-metallic materials, she can simply purchase the base material and create or shape things that she needs. The Skitterbug chassis, including the wings, is entirely printed in this way. For more complicated structures, such as the Frisbee, it's still useful for making some parts here and there, but its usefulness drops off dramatically as the design's material requirements increase.
- Melvin NEO ——— A former military attack drone, reprogrammed into a butler robot. All of its weapons have been removed, and it now flies about the Penumbra's hallways to fetch food and drinks. When serving refreshments, it sounds out pre-recorded voice lines in a sexy british accent. However, the lines are generated by an artificial neural network algorithm, which sometimes spits out gibberish.
The 'scar' from when Hound initially tore it open is still visible, as its aluminium frame was welded back into place. As a joke, she programmed it to act afraid of dogs, causing it to flee from any barking sounds it hears...and inadvertently making it into a dog toy. - Bunnies ——— SIGINT owns three black bunnies, all female, named Marya, Olga, and Anna. They are currently babies, and housed in a large cage in SIGINT's room, though she lets them roam free as appropriate.
SIGINT has always been reticent to keep pets, as they have a tendency to claw or chew wires, threatening the delicate infrastructure of her computer-filled room. After boarding with Colin Setanta, however, she asked him to teach her how to properly raise and train animals, which led to the adoption of these adorable bunnies.
When she was younger, her sister had always wanted a pet rabbit, but their father wouldn't allow it. If she were asked directly, she'd just call it a belated act of rebellion against her dad — but the truth is that she just wanted to have something in her room that her sister might be happy to see, one day.
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