The Hacker is delivered, kicking and screaming, to the kensei’s practice room, and forced to sit on the mat.
The kensei sits cross-legged and waits for her to settle.
“You are the best?”
“Yeah, you metal-legged loser,” she says.
“I need you to hack into my system and disable the remote control connection.”
“That ain’t what you need.” She picks her nose and glares. “They put a failsafe in you.”
“A self-destruct mechanism.” The kensei closes his eyes and nods.
“Something that’ll kablooie your brain stem if you fudge the frequency or remove the sensor. What you need is a surgeon.”
“Have you ever done a physical hack?”
“I’ve cut into a cyborg or five. But I ain’t gonna mess with a boss.” She crosses her skinny arms. “You want my advice? Keep your factory presets and do what you’re told.”
The kensei smiles. “Prepare a surgery room,” he says, and a dozen guards sprint into action. “And pay her well, whether she succeeds or fails.”