Sector A
	It was an old fashioned habit, wearing synthetic silk garments under the normal quilted clothing worn beneath armor, but it left skin less irritated in the dusty rubikan setting. Omni employees seldom had a need to wear armor day to day, but as a so named clanner, it becomes a daily requirement. Many members of the clans were too rugged of their own accord to indulge in such luxuries. I was still too accustomed to the luxuries available to the recognized citizens of Omni-Tek’s planet. The lifestyle of the clans was not as romantic as the bits of propaganda led me to believe,  much was lacking not only in the grand philosophy but in terms of goods in the shops. I thought to myself of the days of the old, the days when I was simply but a citizen in Omni-Tek’s way of progress, a foreign cog in their system. I could have stayed, I could have explained the circumstances, I could have just stayed asleep, she did this herself, it is her fault, she did this alone. 
	My data-pad began to hum, at first not enough to attract my attention from self reflection, but then a pulsing tone soon followed by a glowing flash of yellow. I tapped the surface and a series of pressure ripples danced across the surface. “I should try to be more careful with this pad, its more sensitive now” I thought to myself. The usual string of unidentifiable symbols streamed in across the screen and then text started rotating into a literate form similar to the arrivals board at the ICC shuttle port office. I never noticed that my data-pad translated the signals in that manner, not since the rebuild process, perhaps the system is slower now. “.::Message from unidentified craft incoming::.” was the first line that translated. “Coppa, I’ll be there shortly... I’m having difficulty getting through the radar” was the next line, the symbols were still rotating through other symbols struggling to cipher the signal into text. This will not do, I would rather be out of contact as a whole than to struggle with this nonsense. I figured that I could get last minute arrangements accomplished while waiting for this craft to arrive. “Njine...” I started talking before activating the comlink, obviously distracted by upcoming events. Tapping a translucent blue depression on the side of the data-pad static started the sound of static, a second tap silenced it, “Njineyr, Athens backyard one, come.” I said it slowly to make sure it understood the statement. A static encased reply came from a familiar voice, “Yes miss Bane, on the way”.
	I tapped the surface of the screen, the lines of text stationary and legible. “.::Message from unidentified craft incoming::. _line_ Coppa, I’ll be there shortly... I’m having difficulty getting through the radar field and will _line_ have to take a diverted path to the location to evade. I should _line_ be there in about two hours. Expect a quick extraction, I’m not waiting _line_ for anything.”
	I returned to pacing the ground, crossing the stone paved path and crossing over the overgrown grasses, the dew collecting on by boots, soaking into the biomaterial sections around my ankles giving cooling sensation. The sensation made me think back to the evenings in late September of ‘479. “Barm...” I nearly said his name aloud. “That bastard.”. He was the danger seeker, overzealous quick with words but slick with them as well. He charmed me, perhaps too much. “Damn it, you made me do it didn’t you!?” I questioned it aloud, knowing my presence was unaccompanied. “You bastard!” I lost my temper and my momentum in pacing. I could feel my toes were wet, the dew soaked through the soles, the only part of my boots not biologically active, it would take time for them to dry. I detached the grips on the back of my legs, the straps from my boots falling through the fasteners, I slid each boot off, and removed the damp quilted sock. It had been a very long time since I went barefoot on the ground.
	“Dutch, your not covering your eyes!” shouted a faint voice. “Wha...? Who’s there!” I shouted back looking into the darkening landscape of the deserted backyard commons. I failed to get an answer. A chilling metallic click and a vibrating buzz sounded as I slid a new battery stick into my electronicum. I reached back behind my neck and turned the dial on my light bar, a florescent hum and bright illumination snapped on. “Who the hell is there, answer me!” I called, yet still no reply. I motioned a few nano commands and a flurry of bot activity whizzed about and subsided. Electronicums griped tighter than I ever held them before, I crossed the grassy commons barefoot without a sound. “Cover your eyes Dutchess, your cheating” this child-like voice said. “Cheating at what.” I for some reason engaged this person in conversation, something I know better than to do, Omni-AF made this clear in their seminars. A whisper of laughter followed the rustle in the grass moving behind me. “Cease activity!” my training regained control of the situation. “Cease activity and remain calm, I am here to assist.” I said in a learned calming method. “I’m not going to play if your going to be psychotic.” whispered the moving giggle. Psychotic? I only knew one person to have ever used that word in that way. “Laura?” I questioned, knowing the answer. “Dutch, just cover your eyes and count for god sake, your ruining the fun”. “Laura? Is that you? Where are you? Where have you been?” “I’ve been hiding, but your not looking for me!” Footsteps were coming down the stone path and I turned towards them still gripping my elects with white knuckles.
	“Miss Bane, I’m here”. “Njineyr?” I asked. Njineyr took a long second glancing around, possibly looking for what I was going to shoot. “Yes Miss bane, you wanted me here.” “Where is she! Find her she is here!”. Njineyr as placid as ever asked who. “My sister is here, she was just here!”. “Why were you going to shoot your sister Miss Bane?” so innocently it asked. I explained to it that I wasn’t going to shoot her, but someone else, but I think the atrox failed to grasp that concept. Njineyr passed off the instance as stress and seclusion in the dimly lit place playing on my anxiety before the trip.
	I sent Njineyr to the SOL bank terminal to extract my furnishings, having placed them in the terminal earlier in the day for safe keeping in stasis rather than allow dust to collect upon them in my absence. “Place the botanicals in an environmentally controlled space, I do not want them to be mishandled in my absence.” I handed my old apartment key to Njineyr and told it where I secured credits for use in the purchase of foods and needed goods. “I am leaving you in charge of this habitation unit, its contents and of the lab in Tir.” I took a pause and rubbed my temple gently. “Open your pack and take out a pair of boots and my lab coat and see if you have a pair of dry socks in there as well.” I said beginning to detach the various grips holding my biomech components to one another. Njineyr rummaged through the stiff metaplast backpack, removing a pair of socks first and waving them in my direction before removing the other items. 
	It was moments such as this that I could appreciate old habits. The biomech was only a third of the total weight I wore, the rest, being the thick padded quilting used to cushion more traditional heavy protective gear. I rested for a moment, sitting on the slightly damp grass, in my synthetic garment, still barefoot while Njineyr repacked the biomech into the backpack along with the quilted slacks, vest and sleeves. Everything except the biomech cloak, which it said was too big to fit with the rest of the items. It stood there holding my cloak silently. I casually dressed into the more formal attire.
	The hum began again, from my data-pad. I tapped the screen and the symbols began to stream across and start rolling through while the translation occurred. “I need you to take a look into this while I am gone, it’s much too slow to be of any acceptable use before I arrive at my destination.”. “If you say Miss Bane. I will immediately begin back at the lab.” The symbols were still trying to locate the correct letters. “As soon as this person arrives I must depart, give my best wishes to everyone and do not fail me.” I stated while starting to read what translated. “.::Message from unidentified craft incoming::. _line_ Coppa. I am in approach to the location, be ready for extraction in [twelve] seconds.” I taped the screen in the lower corner, disrupting the power source, rendering the unit offline I handed it to Njineyr. Silently we stood. A breeze danced among the overgrown blades of grass, and shuffled the edge of an awning. A moth danced by Njineyr’s floating torch. A distant metallic tone approached swiftly bringing a draft that kicked up the dust off the pathway. 
	The craft was shockingly large to have the ability to fly into Rubikan air space undetected. It filled the commons of the backyard, hovering just above the abandoned apartments, this desert camouflaged shuttle. I could recognize the shape of the tail as that of an outdated OT-InterplanetaryCDS, ones used to drop cargo into hazardous conditions. The ship was obviously modified severely, figuring that the ships were originally unable to hover. What was concerning was that the ship looked to be from the era it was in active service, I came to the conclusion it was while looking through the void a 120mm or a 152mm cannon left in the port side. The exhaust was beginning to heat the atmosphere to an uncomfortable level, heat blurring the landing lights on the craft’s underside. 
	“Stand Clear!” someone said through a paging system. I and Njineyr moved back against the wall of the apartments, unsure how I was to board a vessel which was not supposed to be hovering. The ship circled in place and came down in elevation stopping just above the mast of the commons pavilion. Strong gusts from the exhaust swept along the ground, leaving a hot sensation on my face. From the side of the ship a cargo hatch swung violently open, and a set of Jobe transport rings emerged at the end of a loading crane. The familiar light blue beacon appeared on the ground beneath the ring. I entered. The craft was already in motion I could tell as I was coming through the system onto what I thought looked like a storage compartment. The room was a bit diminutive, with a low ceiling even for a small opifex. The interior was in remarkable condition resembling Omni-Tek office architecture, and I thought it may be omni in origin. There was a radar display in the center of the room, and by the time I came unto the screen, Rubi-ka was already a small blip in space. 
	“Extraction indeed” I murmured. “INTRUDER DETECTED! Initiating security process” the sound came from the wall of the ship, at which point the wall melded away revealing a recess holding an elite class slayerdroid still in compact storage mode. My voice must have activated the security sensors. The droid began to animate various limbs from beneath its bulk, climbing out of its recess like a spider emerging from a crack in a wall. The yellow glow emenating from the underlaying environmental sensors of the hulking frame concerned slightly me to say the least. Realizing that most of my equipment was packed away with Njineyr back on Rubi-ka left me contemplating my future and why it was that I had accepted this expedition in the first place.
	Three months ago, January 5th , 29481. I came home to discover that there had been a break-in at my Jobe apartment. It was already a long day of doing nothing productive. I had been out shopping for groceries in the Athens; Jobe never supplied anything recognizable, things were labeled yet I could rarely make out how to pronounce what was written. I was in need of more jokka shavings to go with my meal tomorrow. 
	I carried my perishables in an old worn basket back towards the Jobe whompah interchange in Old Athens stopping only to toss a couple of credits into the blue obelisk fountain. Waiting was not long and shortly I stepped through the pale lit doorway and prayed I would appear on the other side just the same as in I stepped. I stood a few seconds with my eyes closed until I could smell the thin notum air. The door took its precious time as always in registering my presence before opening. The strange sounds were not a welcomed invitation. I slid my basket to the floor and quickly went to removing my glove and began initiating the motions for a hostile nanoline. Something was in my chair in the main entry apparently eating something so I replaced my glove knowing what was in my apartment. 
	"Leet one-nine-eight, what are you eating? You are aware that I have you restricted to a specific diet for another thirty-seven days." I said to the creature. The furry little intruder commented back in that familiar slang "dood y r u hiding tis jerk-eh from meh?" Not many of you know that I shun away from anything other than the freshest of meat cuts and never keep a supply of jerky in my kitchen. That this is why I was reluctant to look at what it had been chewing. There, in a puddle of leet digestive fluids laid my alien data-pad which was a culmination of more than two weeks, or five months in the case of that lazy eyed atrox engineer I used, worth of work. The layers of alien tissue which was so very hard to stabilize and preserve was already a mangled mass of flesh by the time I found it.
	I was about to toss the whole gnarled mass into the incenerator when it began to flicker back to life, a voice stating “Urgent message from an unidentified source, subject demands your response.“. Attempting to untangle the mass gave me a nauseating sensation, but the promise of a thorough hand decontamination kept me together long enough to identify the memory chip and remove it from the tissue. Placing the data-pad into an anticeptic jar for later examination, and coning the leet back into a holding pen, I removed the debris from the memory chip to a point rendering it useable by a standard data retreiver. 
	The next day  and first thing on my to-do list was to purchase a data retrieval unit, which I found one in working order for a steal in a back alley shop.  After finding a relatively secluded alcove, I inserted the memory chip into the data retriver and the device began to read from memory the last few readable messages. I had a message from an implant wholesaler, a wrong caller, and the urgent message last on the list. Using the remedial two button control system on the data unit I after a bit of time and random button sequence pushes , was able to get the messages to play in the original form, although the replay in binary was entertaining. 
	The wholesaler, “Thank you for selecting  Borealis Implant Imporeum, home of the twenty second brain implant garuntee. If we can’t change your implant in under twenty seconds it’s free! *mechanical sounds and a sudden scream is heard in the background*”
	The wrong caller, “Yea, hey, I don’t know what happened last night, but I just don’t think it’s gonna work out between us. Your roommate and I talked a lot this morning and, oh I hate doing this over a message system, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to see one another anymore.”
	The urgent message, “.::Message from unknown user::. _line_ Coppa, boy did I have a hard time finding you. I know _line_ what you do, oh you will so pay for it later trust me, once _line_ omnipol get wind of it, your going to be numero _line_ uno on their suspect list. Don’t worry, I’m not going to _line_ turn you in, or even blackmail ya. I’m gonna help you. _line_ I’ve seen things that you will need to see for yourself call _line_ it divine inspiration that led me to you but you have to see this place _line_ its full of the little fellas. If your willing, I can make arrangements _line_ to get you here. I have a guy that can contact me from RK so if your _line_ ready, make sure he knows. In one week send up a flare from _line_ that platform in Jobe,  an infrared flare, he’ll see it and then I’ll contact you _line_ again with details. _line_ “Jak” _line_ .::End of Message::.”
	I removed the chip from the unit and threw the data retreiver to the ground with paranoid anger, where it shattered into several broken bits. “Lets get this printed and then destroyed” I said to myself. I knew just the place to have this printed up. 
	Omni-Ent, restricted area to clanners, party central for Omni-Tek employees. Normally the last place anyone would go to have questionable materials printed up, especially anything mentioning Omni-Pol wanting to find you. Yet as I had learned time and again, the last place anyone looks is in the most obvious location, in this case a message hinting at terrorism would be in an Omni-Tek copy shop. As a student in Omni-Med years ago I was familiar with the layout, the location of guard posts, and the location of the only copy shop operated by a notucaine abuser suffering a poor memory for proper permits on printings. “An honest person has nothing to fear, so try not to look scarred.” I whispered the familiar phrase to myself just before taking the grid exit to Omni-Ent.
	Making a safe unnoticed trip to the hole in the wall shop, I slipped through the door pretending to be looking at my wrist for whatever reason to avoid giving a full view for the facial recognition camera in the upper corner of the shop, just incase it was operational once again. Casually passing by the other customer talking to the shop owner, his dealer I presumed, I plugged the chip into the student print center. A swipe of the supposed notucaine dealer’s credits-card I so smoothly lifted, and a few on-screen selections and I had a printout of the texted message. If anyone was lucky enough to stumble on the message mixed in with student papers, Mr. Possible Dealer’s arrest would give a nice sign that they discovered the message, before a knock on my door. I made a commotion yelling at the machine for corrupting the data chip. I kicked the machine, damaging the data chip even causing a section of the chip to become lodged in the print terminal and remaining pieces to land on the floor. I removed a shoe and started assaulting the machine further while yelling , looking for signs of fatal damage to the unit. The shop owner and the gentleman with him seemed scared of the girl beating up the machine and immediately called for the Pols rather than attempting to quell the situation. My heart started pumping faster. This machine needed to be nothing more than junk before the Pols showed up and discovered my identity. The shop owner was still on the comsystem and I could tell he was in contact with them already. I continued to curse at the machine, assaulting it with my shoe, pieces were falling off the terminal and finally, sparks and a sizzle along with the tell tale smell of burning wires. Time to run. I made my way through a couple of alleys, even managing to see the Pol dropship arrive. I impressed myself with my performance.
	I stopped by the platform in Jobe each day trying to see if anyone was watching me. The platform is always packed full of the same faces, could be anyone of them. I continued to recall the message considering the effects if I did not accept the ultimatum. Possibility of Omni Reform, or prison  at best if I insulted this Jak fellow. The message was vauge, he could have just randomly selected anyone associated with the clans and his message have the same effect. Although why send text, why did the system fail to identify the sender, and why end it in a name, fake or real? Thought poured through my head all that week. 
	The rifle made a huge flash sending the tracer high into the sky, a fizzle and seemingly nothing resulted of the weapons discharge other than a few confused onlookers. I am sure they thought I was going to attack, several spectators drawing their arms. “Whoops, silly me had the safety off.” I said to them gesturing with my hand that everything was okay. Accidents must be common these days because that seemed to be enough to calm everyone, even Omni-Tek employees aware of my clan affiliation. I waited around for a few minutes looking to see if anyone was going to approach me with secret directives or a plain envelope to hand over. Nothing. I went home.
	A small white paper was wedged in my apartment door. He already been here. Must have been waiting here holding the paper until the signal. I admittedly grined at the thought of someone slick enough to go unnoticed by a doctor. “Must not have been bleeding I guess.” I said as if the messenger was still around, but he was not. I locked the door behind me and braced it with a chair, just incase Pols were on the way, why not. 
	The paper read, “Coppa I couldn’t get through on your comlink, and I know how much you like to have things in writing. That poor, poor machine, shame on you lol. Any hoot, I’ll be in the RK system in a few months. Meet in OA, BY1, I know you know the place. Be there April 18th at 2230h on the dot. Expect a bumpy ride! Oh yea, only pack the absolute essentials, medications and any notes on your research, that kind of stuff. Everything else, meals, accommodations, hazmat equipment and the like is provided. Just in case you get high and mighty and turn yourself in to bring me down, it wouldn’t be the first time I evaded regional space cruisers or ground units. Have fun ‘til then. Jak.”
	I stood there, the soft yellow glow turned red as the metal beast drew back a limb ready to strike, my life flashing before me. “Intruder, this sector is off limits, withdraw to your previous location in…” The monstrosity began to count down from three. I cautiously motioned back to the spot I appeared. The countdown ceased, interrupted by the massive spiked claw of the droid piercing through the wall behind me, slowly the spike continued drilling deeper into the thick metal sheathing that was once an undamaged wall. “Intruder, you are trespassing. Remove your presence immediately” It said as the sensor cluster rotated toward my new spot against the wall, its spike beginning to pull away from the perforation in the wall as the other pick-like claw drew back into attack position. “ Oh fu…” I tried to say before evading another attack from the slayer occupying  most of the free space in the clausterphobic inducing room. “Intruder, You are not welcome.” It had a calm voice module, which gave an errie feeling to the situation. Sparks flew past my head as the droid continued to turn the room into a seive. Rolling across the room and hap hazardously landing under the slayerdroid, the beast pulled both claws in towards its body, and in a smooth motion only a martial master could appreciate, rotated its limbs downward and through the floor again with the sensor cluster snaking around to locate my position. “What the hell!” I yell while lunging away from the sensor, being followed by another thrust of the hulking spike. “Intruder, lethal force will, now be used.” it stated with an ironic flare. I dodged another shower of sparks and metal filings, this time, however, it managed to graze my leg. Blood beginning to flow steadily, the beast responded “Intruder, withdraw from this location.”. The cluster of sensors coldly held on my location against the wall on the floor, in a puddle of my own blood, nanobots flowing through the red pool in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. The massive claw drawing back behind the unmerciful assemblage of mechanics. I closed my eyes and time seemed to slow.
	I felt like I should be cold. I was not feeling cold, I just did not feel warm anymore. I imagined I was swimming in a tepid sea, my eyes closed beneath the surface. I could almost feel the suns shinning above, and I swam towards them. I came up through the surface. I felt joyful. I swam to the shoreline, and walked out of the surf, the course sand sticking to my feet. I went over to my parents who were having a picnic on the grassy dune. “What am I doing here?” I asked. They failed to answer me, but insisted that I sit and eat before it got cold. Jokka shreds with grilled reet kabobs in a creamy sauce. I haven’t had this in years and it tasted as good as I ever had before. I didn’t question anything, I didn’t even consider asking questions as an option. Laura was sitting beside me now, smiling, trying to sneak one of the kabobs off my plate. I snatched back the kabob and laughed. She was really young. We were talking about something but I couldn’t hear what they were speaking, though I knew what they were saying. I was sleepy and laid down on the grass, grabbing the picnic cloth and rolling up with it I was in my bedroom, back in our Borealis home. 
	I was waking up now, Laura was yelling, and I knew our parents were no longer supposed to be with us, they were already gone. She was yelling at a man with a gun, a rifle. There were many men there with the same rifles and they all looked the same. The room was dark, light was in the hall but away from the men, I couldn’t see Laura. I couldn’t hear her, but she was yelling, she was in danger. I was standing up now. I was wearing my synthetic silks, they were comfortable but I had an itch. I scratched my back but something poked me, I got upset and looked at what I was holding. I had a syringe, but there was one of those angry men standing at the end of the needle, the orange looking needle. I thought it was a funny color for a syringe and I laughed along with the strange man that the needle was stabbing. He laughed too much because he started coughing really hard. I turned to find Laura, but she was walking away with one of the men. The other men were looking at me strangely but they didn’t look at me. I looked at the coughing man, he fell asleep on the floor. I knelt down to help him up but I couldn’t find him anymore, all the leaves were in the way and my hands were getting dirty from digging. I heard someone shout through the trees, but I was running away from the voice. It was dark. I was scarred of the voice calling for me, it was one of those men with the rifles that looked alike. I tripped over a tree root and fell on the funny looking needle, I stood up and no longer could see the tip of the syringe. 
	I dropped the broken syringe into a hole in the middle of the street and an explosion happened under us. I was wearing something heavy and hard, it felt like a shell all over my body. I was running away from that hole in the middle of the street that was breathing smoke. I was running beside him again. It was fun. I dropped another stick into another hole in the middle of the street, it coughed and started to breath smoke too. We stopped running, I was in front of those men that looked the same, but they were missing their guns now. I couldn’t move my arms, my hands were stuck together. I cried because I didn’t like the feeling, I cried for him, but knew he couldn’t hear me. I was watching television, but it was a stupid show, it kept saying the same thing again and again. A voice told me he was gone, and he was. I wept, I cursed those I did not know.
	I was sitting again, I was wet with blood and scarred. I was crying with the side of my head against the wall, wincing in fear and pain. I squeezed my eyes closed tighter wishing to be swimming in the sea once again, I could even taste the salt, but knew they were nothing but my tears. I could hear the slow churning of electric motors and the gears of the damned machine revving up to strike. I held still waiting for the pain to stop, the suffering to cease. It was quiet for a moment, time slowed again and I could feel the gentle breeze of the spike slowly rushing toward me, a lifetime of experiences flooded past too quick to recall individually.  It tired me and I only wanted to go to sleep.