21.6 Interlude: The Padre

January 3, 2070, at 0511
The Glen, Penthouse Suite #2

Sebastian Ibarra, the city's preeminent troubleshooter, was roused from his slumber by an urgent notification. His profession demanded availability around the clock, given the unpredictable nature of the city's underworld. As he read the message from his recent asset, his eyes expanded with astonishment. Wasting no time, he contacted Jose Ortiz, a novice in the Valentino gang notorious for his engagement in Animal gladiatorial combats.

"Señor?" Jose's voice echoed with deference as he received the call. Discarding formalities, Sebastian asked, "Were you at the Plaza Massacre?"

"Si, Señor," Jose confirmed. Sebastian, momentarily absorbed in thought, inquired, "Did you witness a Tyger Claw member committing the slaughter?"

The youth denied it, causing a wrinkle of suspicion to mar Father Sebastian's brow. "Are you certain? It was dark; perhaps you overlooked it."

The subsequent pause was soon broken by Jose's reply, "Indeed, Señor, it was too dim. Perhaps I overlooked." Satisfied, Sebastian continued, "That's understandable. Did any of your companions carry a blade: a knife, dagger, sword?"

"No, Señor," replied a now perplexed Jose.

"Excellent. Make sure this fact is widely recognized. Only bats and guns were present, no blades whatsoever," Sebastian sternly instructed before terminating the call. As he dressed and placed another call to Campo Orta, he ensured his alert was conveyed immediately.

"Padre? What's the matter?" Campo's voice resonated with the understanding that a call at such an early hour signified trouble.

Sebastian urgently reported, "I've received a report about a bloodbath at the Parque Del Mar Plaza. The Voodoo Boys and 6th Street gang members at the match are reportedly all eliminated."

Instantly alert to the possibility of the involvement of his kin, Campo asked, "Any casualties from our side?"

"None from us or the Claws. The attacker selectively spared us. The weapon of choice was a blade," replied Sebastian as he exited his penthouse, flanked by his security detail.

"Someone's trying to smear the Claws?" Campo asked, a note of amusement in his voice. "You will handle this matter discretely, won't you? I wouldn't want young Ortiz to bear any fallout. His father is a staunch ally."

"Understood," Sebastian affirmed as he descended to the ground floor. He summoned a Delmain Cab, which promptly awaited him at the entrance. His guards ushered him into the vehicle.

"Take me to Parque Del Mar Plaza," he ordered the cab's AI avatar. The car glided forward smoothly as the AI advised, "The location is currently a combat zone. NCPD is en route. As you have the Excelsior package, we will have weaponry ready."

"Very well," Sebastian replied, noting his guards mentally adjusting their arsenal to a more combat-ready configuration. He then placed a call to Mama Welles. She had a skilled Netrunner, who verified that his asset, V, was uninvolved. This and confirming Valentino's non-involvement put Sebastian's mind at ease.

With the situation starting to unravel, he contacted Wakako, the East's Dragon, another heavyweight in the city's seedy underbelly. Their discussion concluded with an agreement to capitalize on the volatile circumstances. While annihilating both the rival gangs was far-fetched, carving a solid chunk from their territories was undoubtedly plausible.

Sebastian gazed at its changing visage as the city started to wake from its nocturnal slumber. He sent a modest sum to V, an acknowledgment for her invaluable information and a token to encourage her future assistance. Upon arrival at Parque Del Mar Plaza, he was met by a tense scene of gunfire and echoing animal roars. Undeterred, he called for a police officer who approached the cab.

"Padre. I had a feeling you'd be involved. What can you tell us?" the officer inquired.

Sebastian returned the officer's glare with a benign smile. "Hello, Henry. How's your health these days?" His question was met with an annoyed look. "I'm doing well, Padre," the officer grudgingly replied.

"Excellent news," Sebastian responded, maintaining his courteous demeanor. The officer he was addressing was Henry Stints, a rising star in the ranks of the Noir City Police Department. His promotion to detective was guaranteed unless unforeseen circumstances upset his career path. Sebastian had personally ensured Stints' smooth advancement. It always benefited him to have a reliable ally within the NCPD.

In a gravely concerned tone, Sebastian reported, "It appears a cyber psycho-wielding mantis blade was sighted here late last night, seeming to have a serious problem with the Animals' gathering. A truly tragic event. The 20-13 brand of blades has always been rather suspect."

Henry arched an eyebrow and asked, “This wasn’t the work of a Tyger Claw?” The implication of a looming gang war hung in the air. Sebastian encouraged the officer with a knowing smile, “Take a vacation, Stints. You’ve earned it by cracking this case wide open.” Sighing, Stints jogged back to his commander.

Sebastian then directed his cab to El Coyote Cojo bar. He pondered various scenarios as the cityscape blurred past the bulletproof glass window. Stints had shared photos of the crime scene via message, presenting a chaotic picture. After the Animals had been detained, the NCPD began further investigating the area. Dozens of vagrants were found slaughtered, executed precisely—the choice weapon: a knife, not a sword.

"Foolish corpos," Sebastian muttered, watching the city whisk past. He suspected the reckless Arasaka or Militech had released a lethal bioweapon into the city.

Upon reaching El Coyote Cojo, Sebastian flashed his warmest smile. Mama Welles was one of the few individuals in the city he genuinely cared to impress. Stepping into the bar with his bodyguards, he acknowledged Jackie, Mama Welles' son, before returning to the back.

Mama Welles watched Sandra Dorsett, her Netrunner, with a worried expression. Sensing an issue, Padre gently cleared his throat to get her attention. "Greetings, Mama. Is there a problem?"

"It seems so," she replied. "Sandra claims she's found something staggering after probing the information on your recruit."

Padre's interest was piqued. "Is there a problem with V?"

“No, no. She was clean when Sandy checked. It's something else - there’s been a breach in the Blackwall. Information on it was released by NetWatch right after their defenses were compromised."

Sebastian felt a cold shiver at the news. The Rogue AIs from the Old Net had slipped past humanity’s final firewall. He inquired further, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Things are getting strange," Mama Welles started and explained the situation. Padre took in the news, a pit forming in his stomach. The breach of the Blackwall was a major event, and Sandra's inexplicable unresponsiveness only added to the alarm.

Once Sandra managed to reanimate, the conversation turned to the chaos erupting in the Net. Someone was orchestrating a master plan, initiating a Net-wide unrest that disarmed the Corpos and NetWatch.

Sebastian stroked his chin, a habit Mama Welles recognized. As he relayed the complex situation to her, she frowned in annoyance. The pieces fell into place as they discussed the ramifications - from the brutal arena killings to the impending gang wars. The landscape of Noir City was about to change, and the NCPD's backing meant the green light for a gang cleanse.

As he processed this, Sebastian received a message from Campo Orta expressing his willingness to ally with the Tyger Claws. The pieces of this high-stakes game started to fit together. Unforeseen circumstances had opened a window of opportunity, and the gangs were ready to seize it.

Sebastian was mindful that this was all part of the power play in Noir City. The looming war on the horizon meant the Corpos wanted the city secure and stable. He shrugged. As long as he and his people were safe, that was all that mattered.

"Sandra, do you possess any visuals of the Blackwall incident? I'd be tremendously interested in seeing them, if possible," Sebastian inquired, his signature grin adorning his face. Upon receiving a notification of a payment request, he promptly authorized the sum of ten thousand without a second thought. For intelligence of such caliber, the price tag was trivial. Settling into a nearby chair, he closed his eyes, immersing himself in the unfolding video footage.

The introductory shots captured the vantage point of a Netrunner patrolling atop the Blackwall. Out of nowhere, a handful of figures shimmered into existence, much like teleportation. From afar, a collective howl echoed, and a massive swarm of programs, AI, and more indescribable entities flickered into view, seemingly in pursuit of the teleported entities. Yet the arrivals showed no signs of panic, quite the opposite. And it became apparent why in the ensuing moments.

The spectacle that unfolded was nothing short of a massacre.

The leader of the arrivals, garbed in shimmering silver robes, voiced an echo that resounded through the virtual atmosphere. A billowing silver dust cloud erupted from her, transforming into an immense haboob that obliterated the assailants.

A cold numbness gripped Sebastian. He might have dismissed it as a sensationalized movie sequence if not for the video's verified authenticity.

As though the initial wave of attackers wasn't enough, a second and a third appeared, each larger than the last. The silver-robed leader seemed to grow impatient. The video suddenly skipped ahead, now capturing the event from the Blackwall's embedded recording devices.

Sebastian watched as the silver-robed woman dismissed her sword and adopted a unique stance he vaguely recognized from distant memories - was it "Iaido," the art of rapid sword drawing? The video slowed to an agonizing crawl as her sword, a jian, flew from its sheath at an inhuman velocity. But what seized Sebastian's attention wasn't the sword but the wielder's countenance.

Amid the chaos, the woman's expression was a serene pond, displaying only one emotion: tranquility.

It became apparent to Sebastian that this woman didn't regard the Blackwall as an impenetrable fortress.

To her, it was Black ICE.

And like any ICE, it was destined to melt.

It was just a question of magnitude.

Her sword slashed a gaping chasm in the Blackwall, the accompanying coded command echoing a single word, "Sever." The group slipped through the fissure in the fleeting moment before the Blackwall could mend itself.

From there, she swiftly scanned the environment, and the entire group vanished into thin air. It was evident that she had assessed the data in mere fractions of a second and effectively concealed her team.

Sebastian was struck with a realization; this wasn't an AI, or if it was, it had reached such an advanced state that humanity was already doomed. But he didn't think so, and not out of baseless optimism. The silver-robed woman displayed human traits.

Irritation. Frustration. Tranquility.

This wasn't an AI but a Netrunner or, perhaps, a digital deity.

A goddess in the machine.

Extricating himself from the video feed, Sebastian rose and doffed his fedora in deference to Mama Welles. "Thank you for your time. Sandra, should you still be interested in the corporate world, there's an opening I can recommend. Mention my name, and you'll likely have an edge."

Sandra's eyes sparked with interest even as Mama Welles glowered at him. Losing her Netrunner would be a setback, but Sebastian knew it wouldn't be long before another eager talent filled the vacancy. The allure of working under the protective wing of a Valentino heavyweight was undeniably strong for many Netrunners.

Sebastian transferred a substantial sum of one hundred and fifty-thousand Eurodollars to Mama Welles's account as an act of contrition. He noted the flicker of surprise in her eyes swiftly morph into trepidation, the magnitude of his apology signifying the gravity of the situation.

Mama Welles accompanied him toward the exit while initiating a private call. "How bad is it?" she queried.

"An outside entity breached the Blackwall. It wasn't an AI. The woman who led the operation displayed distinctly human emotions: annoyance, frustration, and calm. Furthermore, unless an AI vastly superior to anything I've ever encountered or heard about exists, this invader was a Netrunner. That's not to imply that her team was devoid of AI; I'm nearly certain it wasn't," Sebastian confessed, his eyes reflecting a deep shadow of concern. “Her sword at least had to be an AI of some sort. The rest are suspect, but it doesn’t matter for now. Her actions will have consequences for all of us lower lifeforms.”

With the recent whispers about President Miles' unification agenda, Mama's inquiry was predictable, "Could this be an opening gambit?"

"No, if the NUSA had a Netrunner of such prowess, Bartmoss's entire plan would have been neutralized by now. The feel of it seemed more like refugees seeking a haven. Yet, it didn't seem driven by fear. Rather, it seemed as if battling the relentless hordes in the Old Net was beneath their concern," Sebastian conjectured, unknowingly brushing against the truth.

"If they've remained incognito thus far, I suspect they won't present a problem," Mama Welles expressed, her voice relieved. The weight of worry visibly lifted from her shoulders, her concern over the digital realm's perils paling compared to the tangible threat of a bullet to her son Jackie's brainstem.

"We stand on the precipice of conflict," Sebastian warned his ominous words eliciting a dismissive shrug from Mama Welles. "Trouble is always brewing somewhere. Are you proposing my boy enlists?"

"I've recruited a new operative who could benefit from some protection. I intend to offer her a reconnaissance role. Her peculiar skill set could prove invaluable," Sebastian finally revealed as they reached the entrance leading to the main bar. Mama Welles, her face breaking into a knowing smile, replied, "Something to keep him engaged yet distanced from the frontline? Very well. Extend the offer. I have no objections." Despite her maternal instinct to keep her son out of harm's way, she understood his desire to establish himself. Street reputation was an intricate tapestry woven thread by thread, the currency of credibility amassed through an accumulation of victories and losses.

Acknowledging her with a tip of his hat, Sebastian stepped out into the bustling bar, making a brief radio call to Jackie as he ordered a whiskey on the rocks. After outlining the job specifics and securing the young man's consent, Sebastian dispatched a message to V. A sign featuring a snoozing chicken appeared in response, an unambiguous code indicating his latest recruit was currently off duty.

Sebastian downed the remainder of his whiskey with a nonchalant shrug and exited the bar. A pristine Delmain cab awaited his arrival outside. As everyone clambered into the vehicle, Sebastian commenced strategizing. The Voodoo Boys had been a perpetual thorn in their side for too long. It was about time they were relegated to the annals of history.