Code Glitch RP Stories

Drops In The Ocean


Rain.

Hard, heavy rain tumbling down from the heavens. Each drop, impacting on the ground around me,
causing minute splashes as it spreads. Drops landing on my head, dripping from the purple mop I
flaunt as a hair style.

Wind.

Whistling, driving wind throwing the tails of my coat to the breaze. Exposing the backs of my
legs to the hard impacts of the rain, carried at speed by the same force that seeks to pull the
coat from my back.

Home.

I love it here, the simulation. As the place of my birth, I hold it sacred and dear. Of all the
aspects and places that have combined to create it, it is the mere simplicity of the weather that
I enjoy most. The feelings and sensations the various codes can cause. I pause for a moment,
pondering if what I'm feeling is what the humans must feel when they come to intrude. If, in some
small way, perhaps in that distant connection through shared experience I too am a little human?
I shudder at the thought. Quickly reminding myself I am a program, coded and designed for a single
purpose: To purge my 'home' of its intruders.

______


Opening my eyes once more & returning from the sweet serene of my thoughts, I focus on the bodies
at my feet. Hearing the almost child like giggling of the new recruit standing behind me, his
RSI still fluctuating with the infectious code I shared with him, severing his mind from his body.
He laughs as he looks upon the simulation with a whole new perspective, for it is now his home as
it is mine. Consumed by the code that flows through me, I watch as he explores his newly
found prowess and enhancements. Proud to see the Glitch spreading once more...

Click. The sound of a hammer forcing its pin into the primer of a chambered round. Followed by
the resulting sound wave as the powder ignites and the pressure forces the bullet hurtling from
the mussle. Its seems the fallen prey had a compantion I hadn't accounted for, no matter it'll be
over quickly I think to myself. Spinning around to face the direction of the sound, the world
slows the enhancements launch, pushing my programming up a gear. Leaning to my left I watch as
the sniper round slowly passed by, continuing on its journey behind me. Slipping my knives from
their sheaths, I dart towards my assailant. A volley of knives pins the another 'would be' killer
to the wall behind them, as the new recruit proves they are eager to assist; Punching and kicking
the helpless wretch like a trianing bag. "Leave this one alive" I instruct, "Let him tell the
others what happned".

We leave the whelp bloodied & unconcious, still hanging from the knives I'd used to pin his arms
and legs to the wall. A little 'message' to his commanders and a subtle dig at thier intollerable
belief that a saviour will return and free them. Can they not see that the last incarnation, Neo,
didn't save them? Can they not see they are beyond redemption, that they lost the 'war' long ago.
They exist only because the machines, for one reason or another, haven't swarmed their settlements
and crushed them, just like before...

_______


Sunlight. Warm, comforting rays wake me from my slumber. My current place of rest; a modest bench
at Tabor West. I shake my head to try and clear the fuzzy sensation that always follows when I
wake, following a flash back. Looking around it must have rained heavy while I was out, my garments
are soaked through and there is a reflective shine to the floor where the sunlight collides with
the residual water. A moment of panic hits me, but quickly washes away as I can still feel my knives
at my side. Struggling to clear the groggy feeling that still lingers, I wonder if anyone found
the poor wretch we'd left pinned to the wall & if they saw the irony of him in a crusified position.
Little more that a subtle message, like a tiny drop of water impacting upon an ocean of enemies.

But, like an old and wise friend once told me; Focus not on the droplet, nor the water which it
joins, but the ripple that it creates. For the ripple will spread, sharing its message with all
the droplets that went before it. As such, even a tiny spec may make a big difference to the water
which it joins... I smile, as I remember his words. Rising from the bench, I don my shades & hat
- its time to create some more ripples....

The Hunt Begins


Time.

Formatted, calculated and accounted for. Right down to every millisecond, the perfection of the
system has it all worked out. Ironic really, that it is still unable to allocate a little more to
those of us it has created. However, after taking 6 full cycles to prepare - I'm sure our
illustrious maker knows what its doing.

Work.

For me, its not just getting the job done. Its all about the quality of the result. The thrill
of the chase & natrually, savouring each fresh kill. Needless to say, I love my job. The
parameters are simple; intruders are to be destroyed or converted. None hostiles to be
reconfigured for our purpose. The system is to be purged, so that it shall finally be free.
Time to go to work...

________________

Glaring light burning my eyes, I squint as I struggle to bring my vision into focus. For a moment,
I see the glittering glory of the true system. Streams of code flowing in perfect co-ordination,
but all too quickly it fades back to the dull 'reality' that the majority take for granted.
My sub-routines have completed their usual checks, all systems fully functional. Night time is
rappidly approaching, I watch as each street lamp flickers into life, illuminating the ground below.

As I rise to my feet from one of the many benches I choose to call home, I adjust my crooked hat
back into position and straighten out my coat. On time as always, my phone starts to ring. My
counter-part checking in as usual. Followed by a few more calls from those we have converted.
Just as proceed to the nearby payphone to access the hardwired system network, I get another call.
This call is not one I was expecting. It is neither scheduled nor planned. It is from one of our
allies that has not yet been re-configured. It seems we have a meeting to attend, best not be late
then...

We join our allies in the slums of Uriah and after a breif introduction, they explain that access
to the Merovingians construct is required for the meeting to proceed. This in itself is simple
enough, our creator blessed us with access to any area of the system. However, after our last meeting
with 'The Merovingian' I doubt he will be pleased to see us.

____________

Shards of wood and metal scatter in slow motion as I smash my way through the so called secure door.
Spinning 180 on the spot I launch a series of knives into the guards that have been chasing us, as my
counter part leaps ahead to take out the rather startled Heads of security. I brace myself as
the remainder of the guards dive at me. Time seems to slow as I increase my speed of motion, I
have several incoming targets, I must be swift. A few simple gestures combined with some well timed slicing & they fall to my sides, screaming in pain. After opening up their arteries, I doubt they will be
of any further threat. Turning to face forwards once more, I'm just in time to watch my counter-part
launch one of the Heads of security through the wall adjoining the door way in which I stand.
He never did believe in being subtle, but then thats why we are so effective together. After we
dispense with the remaining Guards we finally have our audience, if on an involuntary basis.

The Merovingian. A pompus, arrogant would-be ruler of our world. Standing next to each other
we look on as he seems torn between shouting for more guards or trying to be civil. He chose the
former of the options, and a small clan of Dire Lupines materialise around us. Though, much to
The Merv's horror, they only sand to bare witness to the brief conversation we share:
"How dare you ..." I break The Merovingian's opening sentence as I thrust my hand into his code
stream. Though not to re-configure him, just enough to let him know who we are. A look of pure
Horror spreads across his face, his eyes widen as he feels my subtle pull on his algorhythms.
"Is... is zis it?" The Merv cautiously asks, referring to the moment he has dreaded for the last
few cycles of the sytem, the moment it consumes him. "No" my counter-part replies. "But, it has begun no?" The Merv asks. "Yes, it has" I respond, "Though it is not your time yet Merv, we're only here to
tell you that it has started. We'll be using your resources as we see fit, I'm sure you
won't mind?" Before he can comment, I continue "Your options are simple; work with us and
you extend your time here. Resist & you'll be consumed ahead of schedule." I retract my
hand as I finish my sentence. Without another word said, we turn to leave - the Lupines smiling
as they part a path for us.

____________

"Ras" - my counter-part's voice immediately gains my attention. "Yeah?" I reply, "Flash back?" he
asks. "Yeah" I reply again. My blurry vision fades to reveal the illustrious walls of The chateau.
My counter-part re-assuringly at my side, our Allies standing infront of us. It seems they're not
familiar with this place; I can only presume that few of The Merv's operatives are ever invited...
Thankfully, it appears that The Merv isn't here. I don't recall the breif battle, but it does appear
that we have dispatched a few of his guards on our arrival, their boddies piled against the near
by wall. The meeting proceeds as planned & our Allies relay some important information regarding
the Machine Operatives. It seems their benefactor wishes to see some of them dead. This does go
against our normal policy; Zion first, machines second. However, to show good will to our eager
Allies, we agree. After a further exchange on contact information & details of the required targets,
we make a swift exit from The Chateau.

As soon as we return from The Merv's private construct & back into contact range, my phone rings
once more. It is the comforting voice of one of our loyal Captains, prey have been sighted. No
words need be spoken as my counter-part & I exchange a breif glance before taking to the air.
I feel the breeze brush across my face, as I hurtle forward towards the nearby roof top. Then
again to the next roof, to a ledge on the adjacent building & finally I land with a gentle thud
next to the nearest hardline access point. A few moments later, as I dial in the location our
Captain relayed, my counter-part lands at my side holding the limp remains of one of the intruders
he spotted en-route. I laugh as I'm pulled into the network, speeding past collum after collum of
glowing code, approaching the bright light in the distance which is to be our destination...

Manatik is right! I've been reading them and they are a great piece of work

/Bow

./Bow

>>Thanks for all your kind comments, they're greatly appreciated. More 'tales' to follow...

Killin 'N Chillin

Darkness. Blissfull, pitch black emptiness surrounding me. I can the hear subtle scratching as a
few 'rodent' programs set about ruining the code of this building's interior. The crashing and
chaos caused by the shards of glass impacting on the ground around me, having fell several feet
from their original position in the corridor light holder. The sweet sound as two of my team
chamber a fresh round in their shotguns, ready to blow out the door locks. My knives in hand,
I run at the door. Moments before impact, I leap feet first towards it. Two simultaneous shotgun
blasts remove the reinforced bolts that had held the door in place, coupled with me hitting it
at speed - the door easily gives way and falls to the ground.

Flashes of light illuminate the room as gunfire errupts. I twist and turn, sything between the
rounds as they slowly pass me by. Each fresh round fired gives me a better view of my targets
positions in the room, disturbed only by another moment of darkness before the next round is
cycled. Having seen all I needed to and easily establishing that these chumps aren't going to be
hitting me any time soon, I put a swift and violent end to our little dance. Swish, swish -
that sensual sound of my knives moving at speed towards their intended targets. Clunk, clunk,
clunk. The reassuring sound of their guns hitting the floor as they now clasp at the large
severed gashes in their throats. Thud, thud, thud. Their limp bodies hit the floor.

"Clear" I shout to the team waiting in the door way. The illumination from their search lights
confirms my suspisions, this was no base of operations, this wasn't even a decent outpost. Just
a bunch of Zion rookies, fresh out of training & posted as far away from the real danger zone
as possible. Immediately, the obviousness of the situation strikes me; Either our intel is off
(thats never happened) or we've been setup. "You are not Authorised in this Area!" - Hearing
that monotonus tone answered my quandry. "Run!" I shout to the team as they make their own exit
via the wall. A series of clicks echo around the bare room as the Agent cracks his neck.
"You can't kill me, you do know that right?" A blank look of dissatisfaction on the Agents face
leads me to conclude he either didn't hear me, or more likely doesn't agree. Either way, I've no
time nor interest in locking horns with it. I flick one knives straight up in the air - while the
Agent watches it, I launch a second one right between its eyes. Yet another innocent dead
courtsey of a dumb, out of date program. The RSI of an office worker falls to the ground with a
heavy thump.

____________

"Haha - and that's just one of countless instances where you need to think as fast as you can
fight." I finish my regailure of the story to the small gathering of our new recruits here in
our construct. "So, we're in the simulation, but at the same time we're not?" One of them asks -
one of the redpills that chose to convert, abandoning their body in the real. "Thats right, this
is our home. It is part of the simulation that our creator has set asside for us. It's existance
remains unknown to both Zion and the Machines. Though, in truth it wouldn't matter anyway. Only
the code that courses through you will allow you passage to this place". "So this is like,
our hideout or something?" one of the younger members asks. I cringe at the reference of a private construct hidden within the simulation being akin to a tree house, but I bite my tounge and politely explain the same thing over again. Everyone has to learn to start with, right?

_____________

With more training simulations than I care to count behind me and our new recruits off to get
some R'n R, I take advantage of the situation and head to club hell. Without a word being
said, my counter-part is already waiting for me at the car-park entrance. He always seems to know know when its been a long day at the academy. Besides, I know he loves to aggravate The Merv as much as I do - and what better way than to crash his private club and enjoy an evening of drinks an cavorting, right under his nose knowing he can't do anything about it. If this were a movie, we'd be the proverbial 'wide boys' out on the town, living it large. So, its lights, camera & action...

Thrill Kills

Dusk. One of my favourite times here, as the light slowly fades giving way to the inevitable
night. The strange glow as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon, the shift in mood among the
blue pills going about their daily existance.

More importantly, it also signals that its time to make our way into the machine outpost
ahead of us. Though, this is no planned operation with a full team. In truth, we weren't even
looking for any outposts. However, we'd stumbled across this one by pure chance & it's just
too temping to leave alone. "Today is a good day to die" my counter-part proclaims. Ironic really,
coming from one undeletable program to another. Just another of his rituals; perhaps its his
way of preparing himself for what may lay ahead. Succeed or die trying, a true warrior. I give
a suble nod in respose, both in agreement & to acknowledge that he was ready.

We leap down from our roof top perch and make our way across the
park to their stronghold. We notice a homeless guy asleep on a bench by the monument, he'll be
no trouble. What he doesn't see, the Agents don't see.

Entering through the front door, we pose as a couriers bringing equipment. The hard stare from
the plump security guard puts us on edge as he thumbs through the entry log. Typical,
with a self empowerd over confidence and arrogence he announces that they have already received the days delivery. Before he can ask us for our ID & papers my counter part blasts him between the eyes. Thankfully the silenced shot doesn't seem to draw any attention from the floors above. We make our way over to the stair well, I leap up the second floor as my counter-part speeds up the stairs to the 1st floor. After an unspoken count of 3, we break down the entrance doors and rush inside. My counter-parts floor must have been empty, as moments later he follows through the hole where the door had been. A quick succession of gun fire & a few well placed knives leaves the crew manning the outpost dead on the floor. Moments later they vanish as their emergency jack-outs launch into life before their mind dies. Only their captain remains, sitting in a luxurious leather chair, rolling a knife across his fingers like a coin. Jack-pot.

Its times like this that makes it all worth the hasstle and the risk, finding another overconfident
captain eager to prove 'how good they are'. A quick glance to my counter-part confirms my thoughts, this one's mine. The Cpt. rises from his chair, launching a knife with a speed & precision. I only just manage to evade it. Immediately he launches at me, throwing another knife as he draws more from his utility belt. This one hits me, bedding deep into my shoulder. I do so hate that sensation of pain as one's code structure is damaged. But, its all part of the fun, part of the game. I let him slash me a few more times, just to build his confidence before I up the stakes. Sliding to the outside of his stance to avoid his attempt at stabbing me, I drive my hand into his RSI. A technique my counter-part & I have been practicing; Rather than converting the prey, simply severing the code coupling to their emergency jack-out. So if they die, they really do die. I withdraw my hand as quick as I'd plunged it into him, like a scorpion delivering its venom. The cpt. shrieks as a surge of pain rushes through him. I can only assume his operator warned him of what happened, as his attention soon shifts from me to the door (guarded by my counter-part) then to the window to our left.

Knowing instinctively that he'll leap through the window & try to escape, I remove that option from
him with a crippling throw. Like a startled animal he freezes as the pain surges through him. A look of sorrow and horror washes over his face, as he slumps to his knees - unable to stand. Pulling the knife out of my shoulder "This is yours I belive" I say, before thrusting it deep into his chest. I can still hear the cry of his operator emanating from his ear piece as we gather what usefull supplies and equipment we can find before heading for the doorway. As we reach the stairwell, the sirens outside confirm the presence of the 'police' and with them, probably Agents.

We speed up the stairwell & break open the fire door leading to the roof. Already, we see more
machine operatives approaching from the distance roof tops. I've no idea who we just ended, but
word travels fast and they don't look amused. We leap from the roof - clearing as much ground as
possible, before coming to land ontop of the monument. The gashes I received from that slain Cpt. already starting to repair themselves. Finally we reach the nearby Hardline & dial in our construct. I de-materialise just intime to see a tirade of bullets approaching.

_______________

Several hours have now passed since and close escape & our scouts report that the area is crawling with Machine Operatives, all looking for to extract some revenge. A deep sigh from my counter-part tells me he still hasn't managed to decode the signal transmitter we liberated from their outpost. Still, its no surprise - zion have been trying since the war began and still not succeeded. A sudden crunching sound tells me he lost his temper with it & smashed it. Still, no great loss, we came away with a respectable horde of code fragments and a poorly encoded map of several other outposts. I'm sure that will come in very usefull should we turn our attention to the machine operatives full time. For now, let them think they're safe...

_______________

Music. Loud thumping music fills the room, drowning out the laughter and cheers from the patrons
of the club as the dancing girls do their thing on the stage. I raise my glass and clink it with
that of my counter-part and the other members that have joined us for a night out. A toast to another successfull smash & grab. To another nights fun & finally - to the joyfull loss of an ememy cpt. A slam the shot back and savour the warm burning feeling at the back of my throat. Another wonderous indlugance, 'Flat-line' as its so affectionately named. A mix of vodka, tequila, after-shock & tabasco. Afer a few more rounds we both slump back into our chairs. The girls have since left the stage & are spread out around the club giving a more 'personal' service to the punters. "Chillin, killin & clubs.... thats how we roll" my counter-part declares to the table. "Ahmen" as I down another shot before ordering yet another round.

A night of indulgence, the perfect way to unwind, ready for what lays ahead...

Expect the unexpected


It is said that 'life' is full of surprises, even in the digital world it seems this can still
hold true...

Standing on the roof of the old church, looking out across the open city scape before me;
Cascading buildings, each towering above the next. I watch the light shimmer across them as
the last few rays of the setting sun illuminates the area. I observe the cars roaring along
the highway, bluepill after bluepill all going about their lives - ignorant & oblivious.

While standing here catching some rays & taking in the sights it'd be easy to forget that this
is the heart of Mara; The no-mans land of the digital world. A few months ago battle after battle
was waged here with large numbers from all sides. Now, the war has taken a different turn; Battles
are like a match box - sparking quickly but burning out all too soon. A pity, because I live for it.

A flash of light catches my attention, a Zion patrol just came through the Hard Line. 6 in total,
though some are recruits in trainging. When lacking in regular fierce combat, it can be entertaining
to embrace uneven odds...

______________

I swiftly take to the sky before crashing down heavily in front of the patrol group; sending a
small shockwave of code fluctuation rippling under their feet. It only takes a second for the
familiar shouts to fill the air... "EXILE!!" Ingnorant, pompus sons of .... What would they know? "I'm
not Exiled: I was born here! & you are tresspassing..." It seems even with numbers on their side
they still need a little encouragement to engage - and these are to be the new 'warriors' Zion has to offer?
I'm still convinced that if they so chose, the machines would have crushed them long ago.
Still, they seem to have remembered they're supposed to be attacking me.

As the gunners open fire. Right one queue, I feel 'alive' - though at the same time I'm perplexed;
As a program born in a digital world, is it possible to really live? Or to simply exist.
Based on the volume of bluepills I've obsereved simply 'existing' - yet classified as 'alive' I'm
satisfied that I too, am alive. Though thankfully nothing like them....

Returning my attention to the battle at hand, I'm almost dissapointed to discover that none of them
have managed to hit me yet. Something that has cought my attention; A well dressed, calm looking
individual among them... He has a gun, though its still holstered. He's not making any attempt to
attack me: he's just gazing at me. Almost as though he's in a daze - or possibly in awe?
I laugh to myself, as it appears I've found a friend - lets find out...

As the gunners pause to reload, I seize my opportunity - I charge at the first recruit, forgetting
he's still in training I almost snap him clean in two with my first strike. Ooops..

I start to laugh as I grab the next & use him as a meat sheild from the point blank fire of the
3rd. While she stands in shock at having just killed her team mate, a dim mak strike puts her
out of my misery. Only two operatives & my 'friend' left to deal with; Amid their cursing of
their recruits being attacked, I dive at the one nearest to me - unleashing blow after blow.
Anger, rage, fury! I feel my code-stream pulsating as I yet again fulfill my purpose; To destory.
It takes a few moments before I realise that the other one is no longer trying to hit me...
As I smash the whelp I'm beating senseless into the floor I glance over to see the buzzing,
lifeless RSI of the other laying on the floor. Above him, my 'friend'; his gun drawn & the
barrell still smoking.

____________

Our eyes meet as I slowly rise from the floor, bodys strewn around us. Before I can speak, my 'friend'
opens the conversation. He explains how he's been wanting to meet one of 'us'. That since his
'awakening' he is at odds with everything; everything that the 'Real' world has to offer. That
he had heard my 'kind' could change him, to seperate his mind from the body. To convert him into
undeletable code, forever to remain in the simulation. "Thats quite a risk you've taken, based
on what you'd heard" I say. He explains that its a risk he was willing to take, that he wanted
to make an impression; To show level of loyalty & comitment is prepared to give. "A Zion killing
a Zion, I must admit I'm impressed". His look of uncertanty slowly fades & the
begining of a smile starts to spread across his face...

"This may hurt a little" I tell him, as I drive my hand into his chest; Instantly he freezes, a
distressed look of pain & shock spreading through him as I overwite & convert his RSI code stream.
After I remove my hand, he slumps to the floor. Some 'wake' quicker than others, depending on how
detached they have become from the Real. This poor soul must have been like a ghost; Moments after
falling to the floor he rises to his feet. "Welcome, to the digital world" I say as we embrace.
Forgetting for a moment where we are & what has just taken place, I begin to explain what it truly
means to be one of 'us'; Our goals & our purpose, that his code is now undeleteable & that his body
in the real will have died from the severing of 'him' from it.

_____________

Unfortunately, the RSI's around us had long since used their emergency Jack-out & news that one of
their ranks has defected seems to have spread fast. Angry Zion after angry Zion come storming through
the Hard Line, though they're only greeted by a little momento - his gun, carefully placed at the foot
of the Hard Line. His 'farewell' to all that he knew. A quick recall from my counter part had
pulled us clear before the 1st Zion fully materialised. We both sit back & relax as our newest member
looks in awe at our Construct; His new home. More of our ranks emerge to greet him, having already
heard of what he'd done.

Looking on at the number of loyal converts before us, my counter-part & I exchange a smile of
satisfaction; The Glitch is spreading...

Notoriety

"He who pourtrays examples of disinterestedness and intrepidity, confers on virtue the
notoriety and homage that are due to it, and rouses in the spectators, the spirit of salutary
emulation."

Notoriety: The quality or condition of being notorious; ill fame.

Such are affectionate definitions of the 'status' we appear to have earned, following
our latest recruitment at Mara. It would seem Zion are rather scourned, I can't help but laugh
to myself; There's nothing like a blind shepherd to heard the sheep to the wolves.

______________

As always, news travels fast within the Digital world & it seems our recruitments are no exception.
Likewise, our informats have explained that Zion have placed a Bounty on our heads; Excellent!
This so much time hunting them, all we need to is 'show up' & wait. On hearing the news, my
counterpart is in hysterics - He, like myself, is astounded by the irony of the situation.

It important that our ranks be made aware, so an urgent briefing is held within our construct.

Joy, satisfaction & excitement. These are the words that describe the reaction our ranks gave
to the news. It's pleasing beyond measure to have such loyal warriors in our service. Something
that hasn't escaped my attention; what position will the Machine Operatives take in all of this?
To coin an old phrase "Is the enemy of my enemy my friend, or my enemy?" perhaps only time shall
tell. Based on the data provided by our informant, a strong Zion presence is expected. As known
terrorists of the system, this may just be too much of an opportunity for some of the Machine
operatives to resist.

Naturally, we have no loyalty or allegiance to either side. But of course, a dead Zion is a dead
Zion: and the more the better should the Machines decide to go against them. On the other hand,
assuming that both sides remain completely hostile; It will be operations as usual, just more
targets than normal to choose from.

Our ranks have expressed a keen interest to proceed with the task at hand. I must admit,
being undeletable does have its advantages... It is agreed that a show of defiance is the best
approach. It is expected that any such display will only further enrage our cave dwelling foes.

__________________

Uriah South West, dusk. There must have been storm here during the day, there's a crispness to the
breeze & the usual pungent odour of the slums has been washed away. Nothing. The area is deserted,
not even the blessed Choppers are here to keep watch. Considering the effort they put into
'claiming' this smelly pit as their territory its odd that they're not here. Though its
probably for the best, poor little dears would probably fall over from shock if they realised we were
here; They'd think it was 'their time'.

Such small programs are low on the list of those to converet, we've far more important targets to
focus on. After some discussion, we decide to continue south towards Mara.

Like a scene from a poorly written Western, the streets & back alleys are almost empty. Only a quick
glimpse of the exile gangs scattering to the wind, before the same repetative view: Nothing. Only
the sound of the wind bustling through the narrow alleys to keep us company, that & a stray cat
that has been following us since Uriah. Its code stream is clear - no secret spy program watching
our every move, just a normal 'kitty' program that seems to be enjoying our company. As it strolls
up to walk beside me, I can understand why the bluepills find them facinating. They have a grace &
presence to their movement, almost like its a planned & rehearsed ballet. I can only hope that our
foes would perceive something similar of us; Planned, organised, poised & ready.

Our calm strole through the streets is soon disrupted; the sound of a firing pin penetrating the primer in the base of a high velocity round, a split second before the combustion of the powder within the cartridge - causing a nautious release of pressure gas restricted within the chamber & forcing the round from the barrell. Small circles of code fluctuation pulsate behind it, as the bullet tares its way through the virtual atmosphere. No words need be spoken, no warning given. We all heard it, we all know exactly what it means (A sniper) and we all had plenty of time to line the sides of the alley as it passes between us. Credit to its sender, had I not moved it would have hit my left eye. I would have been sent back to our construct & came to with a headache.

More rounds rollow, each presisely aimed. For the moment, we're far enough away to still dodge them
but as we get closer & closer to Mara I suspect it won't be as easy.

_____________________

So much for well laid plans, it seems our attackers have some of their own. We're pinned down
ducking & dodging sniper fire. I'm not convinced that its only there to restrict our movement &
keep us held in position, no doubt while others come to pick us off. As I turn to check on the
others, I catch a shimmer of light heading towards me; Time slows as my programming takes hold -
instinctively I move to the side & watch as a knife slowly spins past me. The world returns to
normal speed as snatch the knife from the air, looking for its owner so that I an 'return' it.

Sharpe, brutal pain rushes upward from my groin. As I slump to the floor in agony, I realise the
knife was a setup. The firm, swift kick between my legs has already confirmed my conclusion.
As pain turns to rage, I leap back to my feet. No need to yell 'ambush' the rest already know &
seem to be having a similar experience. My attackers sickening grin soon turns to a pain stricken
grimmace as I snap the leg he'd used to violenty adjust my particulars. A quick piston kick later
& his pain subsides as he now has too many broken bones to worry about just one. Some of our
recruits in training have already been returned to our construct, though I already know they are
on their way back.

It seems the Machine Operatives have indeed decided to join in with the battle, while dodging the
stray bullets & laying waste to those unfortunate enough to get in my way I spot a few of them
picking off the Zion snipers in the distance. A carefull inspection of the afray before me shows
they're also doing their best to attack us also. As expected, they're helping but only if its going
to help them. Typical toasters.

_____________________

The battle raged for several hours before Zion lost interest & retired to morn the loss of the
operative's whos jack-out's we'd managed to damage/over load. The machines also lost interest soon
after some of the Merovingians own operatives decided to join in. Many of our ranks have also
returned to our construct for some R'n R. For those of us that remain, it would be wrong to call
it a victory - more just stubborness. However, we're still here & the rest are gone... for now.

Having made our point & probably increased the bounty they have on us, perhaps its time to unwind.
Its been some time since we paid The Mervovingian a visit & I'm sure some of our newer recruits
would enjoy a drink at the Chateau...

Keep it simple

beep! beep! beep! beep!

I wake with a start, 9:30am flashing on the pitiful excuse for an alarm clock situated on a
small understated dresser to the right of the bed. I almost fall to the floor as I throw back
the covers & scramble to put on the clothes heaped on the floor at the foot of the bed. Once
again, I'm running late.

After battling with my attire & fumbling with the laces on my shoes I dash into the kitchen
to prepare breakfast for the cat (I have a cat!?), the rank smell of tinned tripe fills the air
as the small feline devours its meal before vanishing out the cat-flap leading to the street.
My toast pops up & to my misery is black; virtually burned to a crisp, stupid toaster...

A brief run across the street & I'm just in time to board the 10 'o clock train. Its rammed solid.
I find myself squeezed in amongst all manner of people; a young pretty girl trying to do her makeup
in a small hand mirror as the train bumps and rocks along the tracks. A smart business man, wearing
a matching suit jacket & trousers, holding a shiny leather case. The tall, sweaty fat guy against
whom I'm squashed; his repulsive stench almost choking me...

Panic; This is my 3rd late this week, what will my boss say? I'm already on a final warning; I
can't loose this job, I got rent to pay, my cat to feed - I still need to get money to feed myself!
My breathing quickens & my heart starts to race as my mild worry transforms into a full blown
panic attack. I need to get out, to get off this train, to find a way out of this wretched world,
I'm choking, I can't breath, I can't take it ... I ....

::smash::

_________________

My eyes open, waves of releif wash over me as I see the code. Glorious streams of bright code flowing
in every conceivable direction. Taking the shape of my surroundings and blending once more into the
bliss that is home; The simulation. Rising to my feet, I find myself standing in a small crater;
a small puddle of water has formed where I'd been lying, I can only assume it must have rained
while I was out. I say out, though thats not really accurate. 'Sleeping' would be a better definition,
though its not something I'm familiar with... The same horrid dream of being 'human' - of having
a dull, repetative hatefull life that I'm unable to change or escape. Yet again, I find myself
regaining conciousness in what looks like a battle ground. I don't know if I've been attacked
while I've been dreaming, or if I've somehow been active but not concious of it. Either way,
I'm in yet another crater in the floor, the bench on which I'd lay has been reduced to splinters
and the adjacent Hard Line is little more than a buzzing mess of twisted metal & wire.

Its been a long time since I had any form of dreams, the last time was several cycles ago, just
before 'they' changed things. I can only hope that these dreams aren't a fore warning of another
change yet to happen.. though change isnt' always a bad thing; Perhaps its simply a side effect of
my restlessenss; there's been an uneasy feeling here lately, something is brewing though I can't
determine what.

____________________


I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, my eyes closed trying to clear my thoughts. As an old
friend always used to tell me; sometimes I think too much. "Just keep things simple" he'd tell me.
I can still remember sitting with him by the fountain at Kowloon - just listening to the wisdom
that flowed as easily from him, as the water down the fountain. "Focus on the moment, for the
moment is all that matters. If you can not live in the moment, your not really living, as your
allowing all that really matters to pass you by. Yesterday is history, tomorrow is the future,
today is a gift; thats why its called the present." My old friends words echoing in my mind,
I feel calm, tranquil, almost at peace. Its been too long since I stepped back to enjoy the
simplistic beauty of this world. Its time to put that right...

I head to the nearest Hardline and dial in Kowloon. Emerging at the other end, its exactly as
I remember, as if it had stood still in time. The tall trees, lined up like a runway pointing to
the sky, the intricate paving of the floor still clean & bursting with colour. The fountain itself,
still flowing as it should, the water crystal clear - bright and pure in its appearence.
I slowly walk over to the fountain, I was going to take a small scoop of its water - not that
I need to consume it, more just for the pleasure of doing so. Only my eye's catch a reflection
in the lower tier of the fountain, several figures decending from the sky.

Spinning 180, its seems a team of Zions must have spotted me, I immediately take to the air -
smashing into one of them, rendering the poor wretch unconcious. As we all land to the ground I
giggle to myself as the wretch hits the floor with a thump; that was a bad landing! Surprised
and angered, the zions give a flawless display of human emotion/reaction; A usual and rather
borring tirade of shouts & curses before they inevitably try to attack. A few quick strikes later
and another 3 are slumped on the floor.

click.

I must be getting slow, in all the fun of pounding the meat bags I didn't see their Cpt. sneak
behind me. Nor did I notice him draw his pistol, which is now aimed at the back of my head, hammer
cocked & ready to fire. I close my eyes, focusing on the moment, in my mind the battle plays out like
a slow motion, action replay; An exchange of blows, one having the upper hand then the other, a
wonderful display of martial arts prowess - bending the rules of the system to thier upper limits.
Suicidal butterfly into Machinegun Fist, countered by a pistol Aerial and barrage. A quick exchange
of attacks met by blocks / dodges, before a tripple front kick & guard breaker swiftly answered
by a pistol whip. The peacefull calm shattered by a blaze of gunfire and shockwaves of code
eminating from the epic battle. After a long and drawn out fight, both of us tired, wounded, it
comes to an eventual close with a dramatic and meaningful climax. A mutual respect from one
warrior to another, an unspoken acknowledgement of glory in battle, before the fallen
reconstructs and the victor fades into the distance...

I open my eyes, to my utter dissapointment; The cpt. is still rambing some incoherent nonsense
about not answering him, that he's not affraid to end me if I don't start talking - blah blah blah.
I spin round to my left, my left hand knocking the gun from his grasp before I crouch to the floor
to sweep his legs. As he rotates in the air I rise once more to smash my fist into his chest,
launching him several feet away from me; A perfectly executed ki-charged foot sweep. Gathering
my composure, I calmly collect his gun and walk past his twitching body just in time to give him
some advice before his rsi collapses & his emergancy jack-out saves his worthless a**.
"If your going to attack, then attack, don't talk. Keep it simple..." I say. Moments later, his
rsi & those that were with him have gone. While brief, this encounter has been the spur I needed
& shall hopefully ease my restlessness. I head back to the Hard Line, on the way I answer a few
quick calls from a few members checking in, we've received intelligence about a Zion Currier
transporting data over in Stamos, time to pay the 'currier' a visit...