#vaderappreciationpost

[blogdecjunior]

A midsummer night

Submission for the DEFCON 28 Safe Mode Story Contest.

You can also read it here

*makes a joke about JS*

11:49 <cjunior> Going to post it on #memes when it's a bit populated.

11:49 <voldemort> 😂

11:50 <cjunior> gonna go go and write a psychological thriller set in cybre one day with $skywalker as main.

11:50 <grid_lock> psych

11:50 <cjunior> where he shouts at vold.

Ren knew what his car looked like and probably had his car license number clearly up in his photographic memory, so he had no trouble in finding Benji's car from the parking lot. The clock would tick past about 11 at night when Benji gets back home from his work. Ren knew that too, that's why he was already here in the parking lot at around 10:45, in his sky-blue Porsche 911, listening to Johny Cash on the radio, slowly rocking his fingers to the lovely rhythm on the wheel, while his palm rested on the gear knob. It was all like an '80s film. 'It's almost 11, mate, where are you', He said to himself. He was impatient. The Johny Cash song moved to a one from the Stones. The distorted voice of Mick Jagger gently caressed the car and the good night. It was warm, and it was summer. Which meant, the clouds were gone and the sky was clear again. A night as serene as it can get, with the luminous moon gleaming and the white twinkling stars giving their special harmony on the black, but well-lit sky. Finally, a tall, lean guy came walking from the office building. He looked western and clearly like a follower of the bohemian ways. Dressed like 1994 and 1974 together, with a jacket, that'd instantly make him the hippiest person in the room. And with a pair glasses, with which one could probably see through the afternoon Delhi smog. The Porsche caught his eye, indeed, but he casually walked to his car, a yellow convertible, put his laptop bag in, and drove out of the lot. Everybody loves a game of cat and mouse, he must've thought to himself. He hadn't had turned the car into a sedan, and the warm breeze swept through his long, brown hair. Yes, it was summer. But it felt like it could rain. It was a Friday night and Benji felt like he should put the pedal to the floor and try to make that trouble inside his head go away. The breeze was almost soothing, almost like breaking free, but barely escapism. He sighed deeply and drove on through the freeway. On the rear view mirror, he saw Ren and his Porsche, clearly following him. He sped up, and took a hard right turn to the upcoming exit to the suburbs, that would've shocked anyone passing by. But, there was no one. It was just Benji and Ren and the dull streetlights. Benji raced through the twisted curves. The only thing that stood still to him was the sky full of stars. He drove about a mile, and settled. The dust still hadn't settled. Yet, the summer breeze refused to take them away. Ren walked cross to Benji's, still seated comfortably in the driver's seat, through the choking dust, looking like a hero, and put his elbows on the windowsill. "We need to talk." --- At Benji's, everything was as cypher-punk as it can get. Dark, with cables laying all across the floor, old routers with their hoods off and broken Game Boy boards. Benji poured a drink to a glass and placed it in front of his guest. Then, he settled on his armchair, placed his arms on the sides of the chair, leaving an impression that he would soon have the whole world under his command. Still maintaining eye contact, Ren slowly held the glass to his nose and smelled it. "You prefer gin to tonic?", he said, breaking the silence of the night. "Yes, Ren. Old habits", he replied after taking a seat and pouring a glass for himself. "I know about you picking Johny Cash and vim over anything, now gin over tonic?" Benji shrugged, helped himself with his glass and sat back. Probably after reminiscing about the good breeze he had just drove through, Benji quickly pulled his mind together. "The purpose of your visit?" "Lately, I have some trouble sleeping." Things weren't looking good from the start of the year. First, there was the reformation. The major part of the members of the team demanded equality amongst all the sub groups. It was all for the good, it was the sign on the times. Now there are team meetings before each CTF, more communication and more growth. As the head of the team, he embraced the transition and welcomed to take more power and stress off him and onto the team. It was like the beginning of a new era. But, as responsibilities became more distributed, performance withered away. The numbers weren’t looking good after Volga. Cyber was pushed into the top 100s in that one. It wasn’t so great in the other one either. It was like all something went wrong. It was almost like the decline of Roman empire. "And you know, Benji, there are some nights where I even feel like there's no point in carrying along with it." "You know about weeds, mate?", Benji replied, with a very serious, yet funny look on his face. "Weed?" "Yeah, there are some species, no matter how hard you trim them or poison them, they continue to grow back?" The air over Benji's hung very low, concealing everything the two men spoke. "You have to plough up the top soil and pull out the taproots", he said, giving his undivided attention to the man in front of him. A bit befuddled, Ren took his eyes off to his watch. The watch read 11:45 PM. He looked outside through the window. The suburb lay inebriated with the subtle star shine, with city lights at the far horizon. Ren got up and walked to the door, after seemingly finding answers in that view, but his mind was still disconcerted. "And get some sleep!", advised Benji, as Ren turned the front door handle. --- That night, midsummer, Ren came rushing in to the Cyber lab. The stars were now concealed with dark bellied clouds threatening to shower down at any instant. The sky seemed to be replicating his state of mind. He was running, or it appeared that he was. His hair smelled of sweat and dust, moreover sorrow, in an overwhelming extent. His face was red with his brows sunken and covered with layers of sweat, from running and his thoughts. He wiped his sweat off from his brow, opened the big wooden door and walked in. ‘Finally, the Cyber Lab!’, he must’ve thought. All of his sadness, anger and his urgency seemed to dissolve away in the subtle tranquility of the Cyber Lab. Where the binaries get spaghettified; the warzone. Although, there were other people and his mates in the lab, at the moment, he felt like he was alone. All of the times he walked through the dark corridors of the Cyber Lab alone at night, he had always felt a certain kind of feeling, like in no place else. It’s peaceful and quiet. Like there’s a spirit who watches all of us from above and leads Cyber through hard times, through the right path. More of like a community server that anyone worthy can make use of, but magical; Community-spirit. A spirit that always pushes you forward. The Spirit of Cyber. Taking in his presence and the feeling, he continued walking, to the far end, where the Cyber Lab’s main hall laid brimming with silence and darkness. Him walking through the corridor, this late in the night, under the series of lamps, over and over again must’ve made him feel like a ghostly spirit. Meanwhile, sky had started to break down with sound of thunder which echoing through Cyber, scattered and eventually dissolving away into the mystery that surrounded it. Cool wind was rushing in. Ren stopped near the long table, just by the ESP8266 which collects the attendance data. Beep. Beep. Imperion was there, grid_lock was probably there, zer0k was definitely not there; Usual Cyber. And the lab grew cold, eerie. Somebody from the end of the table, where he usually sits, leaned back, in a familiar gesture, as he was expecting him, but was met with no reply. That was Balthazar. To him, it looked like this was going to be one of those late rainy nights with CTFs; Late nights with nightmares.They'd buy biscuits, chips and rarely, a drink to keep them contained and usually Balthazar gets over the line first. "You know, I'm something of a Raja, myself. You can link me to the old dynasty of the coastal city." And then he'd talk on and on about how would've been powerful if the times hadn't changed, totally drifting off from the purpose of having the drink, which was to help himself in solving the challenge. A part of Balthazar thought and wanted it to happen that night. Ren must've went through the same thought too when he shot a good look at everybody. He could see the feeling on Balthazar's face. He carelly looked upon his mates and then at his hands. That’s when one of his mates saw that he had been holding a can of a sports drink, in his hands all the time. Something you don't normally see. But there he was, Ren holding a drink and the whole lab became spontaneously became madly silent and restrained. He was still looking at the can, now like his whole life depended on it. Mad images rose and fell in his mind. So did anxiety. He increased his grip on the sports drink, trying to contain his anguish, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate, just before he threw the can at the wall next to The Room Of The Beeping Things, where the can exploded like a bomb, with the drink reaching as far as the Operating Systems Security Lab, and the sound reaching much farther. Nobody moved a muscle, and silence echoed through the dim walls again. It was confusion. And the team looked at him in awe. The rumbling sky made way to a wonderful shower. Little droplets rained down, dissolved and slipped away. At that moment, Ren had a wonderful fantasy. What if the river was flowing right through the window? All the fish, sting-rays and the mud would all flow through the window and he would be able to watch it just from his station. And what if there's a river flowing through the Room Of Beeping Things? You could watch the river swell during the monsoon and maybe try your luck in fishing, just from his station. Watching the muddy water flow away, Ren would call "Benji!". He wasn't calling. He was a screaming. While the cool wind continued to rush in, to that midsummer night. The sky seemed to be replicating his state of mind. The silence and the darkness got intertwined and melted away into ether, eliminating all individuality and bestowing the team with absolute focus. With the sound of thunder, every once in a while. Still, the man’s face was distinct in the shadows. Everyone could clearly see the spark in his eyes and the gleam of his glasses. “You call this productivity? You call this… a team?”, he bellowed in a voice very powerful, like one possessed. He had never took his voice so high. It was the beginning of something Cyber hadn’t yet seen, well at least the present Cyber. “This isn't what Cyber is about.” He looked around. His voice was now almost getting buried in the thunderous clatter of the rain. He took his glass off, sat down, took a moment for himself and began. The thing Ren does best. It was about to happen. Few rain drops slowly rolled down the windows and immediately fell away. The sky seemed to be replicating his state of mind. I knew that I was going to hear something I’ve heard people say a million times to me, again but this time, its going to lay a deep impression within me. Perhaps, it’s in the way he was molded. He was never the one for hollow thoughts. The word on the street was he was in the Olympiad or something similar when he was young. What puzzled everyone the most is the infinite karma in settling in this place helping people, after thousands of adventures, while patiently waiting for the moment of great reckoning to arrive. It was like in those American movies, where the head coach walks into the locker room, delivers a speech that lifts the hearts of everyone in the room in order to go that extra mile and achieve the impossible. Climbing higher and back down, blending into everything Ren said that night. And that’s what had happened. It truly was. Maybe it was a prophecy, or The Spirit Of Cyber, who knows. Now, I remember his glasses and his grin, right before he ended. I remember his voice, now a distant murmur, waiting to come back into my mind on the cold rainy monsoon nights, when I need it the most. And in those nights, the words will come back and envelop me again. “You are as useful as I am. You are just not aware of how useful your contribution to the society that sacrifices you, is.” It’s a reminder. To walk on with your tensed jaw and clenched fist till the very end. To fight in the beaches and the landing grounds. To go till the end. Until you feel your nostrils dilate with the smell of sweat and blood. And feel liberated.

La fin :3