08-30-2018, 11:06 PM
The assassin made her way downstairs, coffee cup in-hand. Her VR was its own sizable room. It had taken her a full three months to build and another three months to work out all the bugs. A few years back during an extended hospital stay she’d started engineering courses, those had really helped. She’d kept it up little but little as time allowed and now was a few credits short of an advanced degree. As a joke with herself, as she didn’t have any friends, she’d decided to go all the way for a doctorate. However long it took. Would her parents have been proud? She hoped so. Hope died last.
The VR room had a ‘mud room’ as she called it, which was simply a storage area for her accessorials. Countless guns and other weapons of various sorts lined the walls, all serviceable pieces but disabled for safety’s sake. Each had been weighed and modified to match what she’d carry in the field, for authenticity. Her gear was either ‘retired’ from her war room upstairs or was being tested for future use. She was very particular about her war kit.
Today Nika had planned on shooting in the morning followed by a run through The Gauntlet, which was a close-quarters battle simulator used by the SBS, Shayetet 13, SEALs and the like. She had a date to get her ass kicked by the unarmed combat simulator and after that a HIIT workout, assuming she survived the former. Tomorrow she’d simulate a race on her MotoGT bike at Silverstone, which was where the first race of the season would be held. Busy bee.
Suited up in her familiar tactical assassin evening wear, the woman double checked her internet lockout. Archaic as it sounded, her VR had to be manually connected via actual LIspeed fiber to connect to the web. All of her programs were local only for her safety; Gillian wasn't even integrated. As her unit was both a combat model and hacked, it could actually injure her. It had actually injured her before and undoubtedly would do so again. She preferred it that way for a couple of reasons. The threat of pain was a valuable motivator and she felt she was sharper with tangible consequences hanging over her head. It was also impossible to hack what wasn’t there. No connection=no connection. Right? She opened up the wallet-sized glass door on the wall, flapped the wires to verify they weren’t connected and left her empty coffee cup in the space, per habit.
Nika grabbed a sniper rifle, stepped into the room and called up a program via voice command. “Load Program OLY.”
The VR room had a ‘mud room’ as she called it, which was simply a storage area for her accessorials. Countless guns and other weapons of various sorts lined the walls, all serviceable pieces but disabled for safety’s sake. Each had been weighed and modified to match what she’d carry in the field, for authenticity. Her gear was either ‘retired’ from her war room upstairs or was being tested for future use. She was very particular about her war kit.
Today Nika had planned on shooting in the morning followed by a run through The Gauntlet, which was a close-quarters battle simulator used by the SBS, Shayetet 13, SEALs and the like. She had a date to get her ass kicked by the unarmed combat simulator and after that a HIIT workout, assuming she survived the former. Tomorrow she’d simulate a race on her MotoGT bike at Silverstone, which was where the first race of the season would be held. Busy bee.
Suited up in her familiar tactical assassin evening wear, the woman double checked her internet lockout. Archaic as it sounded, her VR had to be manually connected via actual LIspeed fiber to connect to the web. All of her programs were local only for her safety; Gillian wasn't even integrated. As her unit was both a combat model and hacked, it could actually injure her. It had actually injured her before and undoubtedly would do so again. She preferred it that way for a couple of reasons. The threat of pain was a valuable motivator and she felt she was sharper with tangible consequences hanging over her head. It was also impossible to hack what wasn’t there. No connection=no connection. Right? She opened up the wallet-sized glass door on the wall, flapped the wires to verify they weren’t connected and left her empty coffee cup in the space, per habit.
Nika grabbed a sniper rifle, stepped into the room and called up a program via voice command. “Load Program OLY.”