His heart still racing from a combination of amphetamine and adrenaline didn't seem to matter to B.B. very much. He was in the zone. Bottled lightning. Organized electricity dancing in a world of- "Oh shit. Keep it together." Right. Right. Staying on task, he cruised the node looking for sensor banks. He had to resolve their security into something he could work with. Cancel the callouts. Make sure that pressure and thermal sensors came back with nothing.
A flash alerted him to activity on the VPN. Mercedes with updates. Cynth with a question. Worth a response.
[B.B.@Team Shush: Usually the girls are hooked up with something to block off their short term memory and a set of skillwires to run the persona chips. Direct load into the coretex of memories and personality, nothing lightweight about it. Yaks have been running this type of place since the mid 50s or so. I suppose the trance is about brain-maintenance. Industry this old, there's no doubt that the clever bastards have found the the most efficient ways to run it. Be careful though. I don't think they're vegetative, and if they see you, they might just slot some sort of crazy samurai chip. Come at you like a hive fulla kung-fu bitches.]