Merovingian 11.3.1 Mismanagement
Flood: Hmph. That Danielle Wright woman has taken herself and her annoying override codes into Hampton Green; still after the biological interface program she forced the Merovingian to release into the system, no doubt.
We've gotten our important people out of the way, of course, but we won't put up with this sort of thing for long. I need you to go in and do some scouting around, operative. Your first stop is that shameless hussy, Nicky G. If anyone will know what's going on in the neighborhood, it's her... although I can't say my estimation of her intelligence has improved since she's stubbornly decided to stay there with Wright in the vicinity.
Operator: Have you noticed that Flood always seems grumpy about women the Merovingian has associated with?
<The player encounters Nicky G.>
Nicky G.: Nice of you to come keep me company; it suddenly got lonely around here...unless you count the berserk Suits running around, but *I* don't, since they're even more tight-lipped than usual.
Oh, you didn't know? Well, honey, it seems to me the Suits gang has just been shot to heck with those nasty...oh, what do you call them...acceleration programs. It's *awfully* dull to have them fizzing around everywhere.
Nicky G.: Consider that a freebie, sugar. Come chat with me in Club Paradise some time-- when it isn't in danger of infestation by wild programs, that is.(!Bug Alert!: Nicky G says "(i}isn't" instead of the "{i}isn't{/i}.)
Flood: A woman named "Manager" leads the Suits gang; I don't mind efficiency in command structures, but really, the complete lack of flair embodied in her "name" is just depressing.
Since it sounds as though her group has had a run-in with Wright, I think we ought to see if she has any useful information for us. Go brighten up her day, why don't you.
Operator: Watch it, there could be more of those Accelerated Suits hanging around there.
Hey, you know how the Merv got a wierd message saying "Wake up"? Well, word has it that Zion got one at about the same time, saying "Knock, knock." Supposedly it's the biological interface program that's been leaving them. Nobody seems to know if it's trying, like, reach out and talk to us, or what. (!Bug alert!: I think that last sentence is a little bit typo'd, seems kinda off.)
<The player encounters a Suit Executive.>
Suit Executive: Manager and most of our management team have moved to our secondary offices in the Historic District.
Crises like this are inevitable for Exiled Programs. We're prepared, we'll deal with it and once it's over, we'll take over the market space left free by those who didn't.
Operator: Sounds like Manager's a little sharper than Nicky. Let's see if Flood wants us following her west to the Historic District.
Flood: The Historic District, hm? Yes, yes, go on. Sometimes I almost pity the Exiles stuck in small operations, who can't afford the security offered by a private construct like our chateau.
I do wish our maintenance team would get off their backsides and fix that banging sound the pipes here make in the morning, though. Really, how many people do I have to scold before things get done properly?
Operator: Hey, that reminds me, can we get the rattle in the bulkhead next to my bunk fixed? That would be awesome.
Speaking of hovercraft issues, how about that Veil getting into Shimada's ship and pulling her jack while the Kid was away? Ouch. Kind of makes you wonder if there are Cyphs out there watching our ship... Haha. ...
Operator: I just want to know what's up with the mini-beehive look...
Manager: Yes, Wright's indiscriminate use of override codes has resulted in the loss of more than a few of our members.
The Machines express concern over the codes, but they have not actually offered any assistance. Even their own Agents avoid areas where overrides are detected.
I have heard of a possible remedy for their use on an operative such as yourself; there are rumors of a Cypherite in Morrell with countermeasures of some kind. (!Bug alert!: The Manager's name is always a random name in here, not "Manager".)
Operator: The Cypherites are cooking up something besides pulled jacks? Huh.
Flood: Cypherites? Hmph. Hardly a dependable group, although I'll admit they're somewhat less irritating than those golden idealists they waste so much time trying to kill off.
We, on the other hand, have things to do. See our contact in Hampton Green when you're ready to do some real work.