LOL I'm back!! I've been getting really jealous of all the fun everyone here's been having lately and really felt like a comeback-especially since I've got more time tonight. So here I am, humbly typing up sequels to me Watchers series. In keeping with my recent trend of stories I'm trying to keep everyone included as well-described and molded to individual prefs as usual so pleasepleasePLEASE send in requests! Oh and Truth: sorry hun I couldn't help it in the end!

It was quiet in the Main Deck of the Nautilus. Most of the ship's systems were shut down for the night, and the air was chill and thin. Still, while technically most of the ship's crew was inactive, only one was truly asleep.
MacLeod's closed eyes fluttered rapidly as he moaned weakly, cold sweat broken on his broad forehead. He grimaced as he twisted restlessly on his mattress. His thin blanket, tangled in a mess in between his legs, didn't stop him from thrashing them about. He struggled a little more, then suddenly snapped his upper body upright, instantly awake. He gulped the cold air and blinked as he surveyed the room and remembered where he was.
Nightmares...not again. He forced himself to calm down, to try to forget what he never could-images of men, women and children, all melting away in a nuclear fire. Searing, merciless and indescriminate, the images of death were impossible to shake. What was worse: in every dream, MacLeod could feel everything they felt as well...as though he was somehow...remembering some past life?
He snorted a little at his own hyperactive imagination. His eyes focused suddenly on his chamber's doors, standng slightly ajar. Then he noticed the glass of milk standing on his table, placed thoughtfully away from the edge in the case of any well-aimed knocks. Shaking his head, he smiled as his troubled thoughts faded away with the sight of the drink. He stood and picked it up, walking out into the corridor toward the main deck. The drink was of course an imitation of milk cleverly crafted by the ship's food synthesizers, but as he brought the pleasing glass up to his lips his smile widened: it was still warm.
Truth sat alone on the Operator's chair, arms crossed and pointing thoughtfully up at her cheek. Her eyes followed the bio-signature readouts on the screens ahead of her, blinking very rarely. However her concentration didn't stop her from sensing the approach of another. Turning around a little she flashed a small smile at MacLeod as he entered the room, passing his glass of milk to her.
"Thanks, T. I needed that."
"No prob, hun." She sipped the drink, then looked up at his sleepy expression. "Nightmares again?"
He shrugged, unable to offer more than she had already knew from before. Changing the subject, he settled into another chair and looked up again at the streams of code in front of him. "Training day...ack." He slapped his head lightly in embarrassment. "How're they doing?"
Tapping a few keys, Truth called up visual images of the ship's crew engaged in various training scenarios. "Nicely enough, slacker." She winked. "...UT's having trouble with pistol aim again, and Rumi doesn't even have to use his power much to defend himself against her. Crahan's training with O2 for...oh, swordfighting. French. And our guest Hitman...well he's having alot of fun with fiction." They both grinned at the sight of the bald, immaculately dressed man on the screen...fighting with six men who were perfect imitations of the infamous character Smith.
Hitman leaned his tall, lean body back all the way as an assailant threw a high punch that narrowly missed his sunglasses. Whipping his hand up to grab Smith's, he pivoted his entire body around that grip till his legs reached the suited man's chest, then kicked off him, launching himself backward. His other arm extended backward, slamming into another Smith's sternum. Falling to the ground, he twisted downward to push off at an angle, spinning sideways like a top. As yet another Smith attacked near his head Hitman extended an arm to catch him on the shoulder, halting his spin. Still in the air, he pushed harder off the Agent so his body pivoted sideways around his waist. His legs span round to where his head was a moment ago kicking the agent in the face. At the same time his outstretched arm slammed into another Smith coming in from a different angle. Landing softly on the ground, he turned and stretched an arm out, catching another agent in a mean piledriver.
The dark-skinned man in the dark, flowing overcoat span around in a classic chinese stance to face his opponents, then looked up with a wide grin to the white nothingness of the construct. "This is too easy Truth...is this a Burly Brawl or a dance class?"
Truth slipped on her earphones as MacLeod did the same. They smiled conspiratorily at each other as she began typing further commands. "I heard that Hitman...I'm glad you found the beginning easy enough. Still, since you love so much to follow in history's footsteps, let's put it a bit more realistically, shall we?" She tapped the final command, then keyed in the number of opponents-10-that Hitman was to face. Suddenly her hand was stopped by MacLeod's, who flashed a mischievious grin at her. That same hand taking over the keyboard, he added another '0' to the number, then plucked at the 'enter' key. He raised his eyebrows: "Well let's just get to the more fun parts..." She feigned a look of shock at him, then broke into a muffled laugh as they turned back to the screens at the hell they had unleashed...
The Smiths disappeared. Hitman smiled as with a whoosh of rushing air walls and buildings rose from the artificial horizons at impossible speeds around him. He straightened and stylishly tugged at his overcoat looking around him with a coked eyebrow as what seemed to be a street games court with benches assembled itself around him. He smiled wider as he turned at the sound of the steel gate slamming open at one end of the court to admit the next wave of simulated enemies...then stopped short at the sound of another swinging open from another end. His jaw dropped as an onslaught of countless Smiths launched themselves at him with murderous looks, then began backing away as they gathered before him. He lowered his glasses to peer over the edge, then made a short, incredulous chuckle. He looked up and muttered to the sky "You're enjoying this, aren't you?..."
Then he started dodging and launching blows in the most intense fight of his life...
Continued.

Hmm...quite a mild piece: I'm trying not to have some huge plot to tense things up-I hope this sets a nice tone to the story and characters Damn it feels good writing again...

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feels good to be reading your work again! very nice to have u back in the ring Mac!

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O I C...showing me how it SHOULD be done, huh? LMAO....VERY COOL...thanks for making me so bad ass!!! Anxiously awaiting round 2...

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LMFAO...I had to come back and read this again...That's just too funny...VERY NICE WORK MAC...I really do love your style, and I'm not just saying that because I get to look good...lol...and I know what you mean about it feeling good to write again...keep it up!!!

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Couldn't help it Mac? Just can't stay away from the fan fiction? Well luckily you're bloody good at it, and it's always a pleasure to read your work. This one is no exception- interesting start, humour, action, a bit of character insight, and even a hint of intrigue! Very nicely done. Now, since you can't stay away- we demand more! lol

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Whoop-de-doop; I've found a little time for this...I'm getting inspirations from all over the place! Good job again Hitman; O2...those are a wealth of ideas you've all raised...

Before the fight developed, MacLeod had punched up the next random screen. Truth frowned a little at him, then leaned forward more, her attention grabbed. On the screen was UT and Rumi engaged in gunfire exercises, and it was getting interesting. Letting out a low whistle, Mac straightened and crossed his arms, his right hand reaching unconsciously to rub his chin.

"Ma'am?"
UT didn't stop firing her dual Mp5s akimbo. Spent shells ejected in almost fluid streams into the air, to vanish without a trace as the Construct re-absorbed needless bytes of simulated material. The endless white stretched everywhere around them, the floor being an intangible, invisible solid beneath them.
Rumi stood at about 10 meters from her, directly in front. He had one arm propped on another in a thoughtful pose that definitely was not usual considering the situation he was in. But considering who he was, this was different. His eyes were concentrating only vaguely as the lethal (as much as the Construct allowed them to be) bullets slowed and bent their trajectories around his form. His mouth was moving vaguely as he pointed a finger to various bullets whizzing past. He paused a little to look at her again but got no response, so continued with his little motions. The eerie contrails the bullets left in the air formed a thick wall of ripples around him.
Abruptly, the deafening sounds stopped. UT lowered her exhausted arms somewhat grumpily and let go. The emptied guns vanished before they had even hit the 'ground', and she proceeded to remove her earplugs. She raised her eyebrows innocently. "...What?"
Rumi was not amused. "Earplugs block out the frequencies of gunfire ma'am not voices. You heard me just now."
She shrugged. "I didn't feel like stopping. Besides, a mag only needs less than 10 seconds to empty." She made a gesture out of reading an imaginary watch. "What was it?"
Rumi didn't answer straight away. He looked up at the nothingness and started a slow turn. "Computer, simulate wall-5 meters behind my location. Calculate all recorded bullet trajectories and simulate impacts; assume wall fracturing as minimal."
A dot appeared in the impossible distance below. In an instant it grew to take the three-dimensional form of a wall stretching up at an impossible speed toward them, and UT had to fight her old habit of flinching against an impact. There was none of course: moments later a wall appeared before them as Rumi completed his turn. It was riddled with bullets spread in a very wide radius from the center, where a conspicuous space stood unscathed.
UT was slightly amazed and curious at what had happened. What was that he had just said?

'Outside', MacLeod's gasp was audible as well. Truth twisted around to answer him. "New Zion's 'R&D'. They're experimenting with computer-aided systems to make things easier. There're only a few minor bugs, but personally I think its a bad idea."
"I'll say. Operator redundancies, dependencies on the system, virus probabilities...we'd be trading reliance on one form of machinery for another!" MacLeod had a look of horror on his face.
Truth had another on hers. Resignation. "Don't think I didn't fight them, Mac. Apparently they really think its for the best. 'Don't worry; we've got the best engineers giving their honest opinions on it and working on only the very best prototypes.' Hmph. Frankly, I don't know what to say." She gave a small disgusted grunt and settled back in her chair.

Rumi took awhile to register her look. Then he shrugged, in a cute little way. "Hey while you were hacking away in the matrix, I was the sci-fi geek-what did you think I was doing at my age?"
UT merely nodded. "I knew they were putting this up, but I didn't know it was this advanced." She then focused on the wall. "So what's the point here?"
Rumi looked at the wall, pointing out the bullet spread. "...What I was gonna tell you ma'am is that you were too loose with the guns. I didn't even have to bend most of them-only 23 out of 60 were 'lethal'. Ah...that pretty much sucked, ma'am." He shrugged a little.
UT tried not to let her annoyance show. "Computer, MP5." As the gun materialized in her hand, she gave a little falsetto shrug of her own, then cocked the weapon a little too harshly and brought it up to a classic shoulder position. Rumi gave a small smile as he pivoted around to face her again. She closed an eye as she took aim. "Well...I'll just have to work on it."
Then she fired.
Continued

Hmm...pretty slow one. I think I have a few new ideas I'll work on next time...hope you liked this by the way though.

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OK...OK....I bow before your knowledge and skill. You are the man. Impressive...most impressive....I really enjoy your stuff, Mac, not just for the technical knowledge you impart but also for the imagination. You know your stuff. I can see I'm going to have to up the ante here...you're setting a high bar! Excellent work, Macleod...Keep going...or else! :cool:

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:O really? Actually I wasn't expecting much from that, and I wish I could write more...thanks. Awww...now the upcoming scenes with you and FYM'll be beefier! Keep the bribes coming! (That's it; a corrupted writer LMAO!)

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..............and a soon to be corrupted system? I really like the way this is going Mac....humans dependent on machines again......even the free minds not heeding warnings.......well you certainly know how to play to a crowd!

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Hey guys a hearty hello to the patrons of the Fanfics!
...I just have to say I'll be away more often from the site: exams are around the corner. In fact I was about to post a great piece for this story when of all the crazy timings the forum site had to move in the 2 hours I was stuck on an old page typing it. I didn't save anything, so it was lost. <sobs>...I'm working on a rewrite, but it'll take time I no longer have. Sigh...I'll miss you guys; O2, Hitman, just to speak of the oldest and most constant I remember around. Keep