Bob, Guardian 452 of System Mainframe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mendanddefend_archive) wrote2007-05-07 05:58 pm
mendanddefend_archive) wrote2007-05-07 05:58 pm
Flashback: Bob's first time in Mainframe
Supercomputer
Principal Office
Viral Breakdown Chamber
approx. 4000 cycles ago
"One more virus for the deletion chamber."
Guardian Cadet 452, filename Bob, frowned at his partner. "He can hear you."
"So?" Guardian 159, filename Dixon Green, turned away from the control console and called out to the captured virus. "Hey, Killabyte! Ready for oblivion?"
Killabyte just growled and thrashed against his restraints. Not that it would do him any good--the manacles were rated to hold up to a Class 3 Infector, and Killabyte was a measly Class 1. Why he thought he could break into the Supercomputer was anyone's guess... but here he was.
Bob's frown deepened. "Do you have to be so callous?"
"It's a virus, Cadet. A dirty, no-use virus."
"Look, you don't know his story, what made him this way, how--"
"A User made him this way," said Dixon, cutting him off. "A User programmed him to destroy, to infect, to corrupt. Why a User does such a thing is beyond our capacity to understand, so there's no point trying."
She turned back to the console, but Bob wasn't finished yet. "I don't believe a User would knowingly release a virus on the 'Net," he said.
Dixon rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's right, I forgot who I was talking to. I suppose you've written a README file on the psyche of Users?"
"Well, actually..."
"You're never gonna pass the finals, kid."
Bob's jaw dropped. "What??"
"Guardians are here to Mend and Defend, okay? Not sit around trying to work out the way a User thinks or why viruses are introduced into systems." She shook her head. "Sheesh. I'm just glad the Prime Guardian hasn't seen any of your works..."
"I had a meeting with Turbo just last second." Bob grinned smugly. "And he thought my ideas to reprogram viruses for the good were radical."
"Radical." A flat look from Dixon. "Uh-huh. He used the word 'radical' and you think--"
*ping*
"What the--" Bob and Dixon both turned toward the source of the sound.
It was Killabyte. The virus quivered and roared in--pain? anger? both?--and, in a shower of sparks, he pulled his right arm free of the restraint.
Dixon backed away, holding her keytool up to her face. "Glitch, patch me through to Central. We have a four-zero-three in progress!"
"Four-zero-three..." Bob looked from Dixon to Killabyte in alarm. "Viral upgrade?"
Killabyte pulled his other arm free (how in the Web did he manage to get loose?!) and dropped to the floor. He got to his feet and turned toward the two sprites, a predatory gleam in his red-and-green eyes.
Oh no you don't, thought Bob. He stepped forward--
"Bob, NO!" yelled Dixon, just before Killabyte swung around and punched Bob hard enough to send him sailing across the room. The Cadet hit the far wall with a solid thud and slid to the ground.
Frag, that hurt. His head was spinning, and he couldn't move. Bob vaguely heard Dixon screaming and Killabyte roaring in triumph before he stopped hearing anything at all.
* ~ * ~ *
He couldn't have been offline for more than a few nanoseconds. He was sore everywhere, and his head was still pounding, but at least he could move again. He struggled to his feet and looked around. The virus was nowhere to be seen, but--
"Dixon!" Bob sprinted across the room to where the female Guardian lay, her body shimmering with translucency. "Are you okay?" he said as he tried to lift her head.
"Bob?" She winced, and her form flickered dangerously. "Th-he virus... he..."
"Just hang on, Dixon." He looked around frantically. There must be a med-team around somewhere-- "Help! I need help in here!"
"Too... late... Cadet..." she wispered. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Bob's eyes welled up with tears. "Dixon, please don't..."
A beeping sound from her arm caught his attention. Her keytool was activating, a progress bar showing code being pulled out of Dixon's body. "No!" Bob shouted in a panic. "Glitch, stop!" Sometimes keytools would obey the orders of sprites other than their operator--please let this be one of those times, Bob mentally pleaded--
But it was too late. The code transfer came to a halt just as Dixon Green's body dissolved into nothing.
"NOOOOO!" Bob screamed in impotent rage, then sagged to the ground, shaking with sobs. She was right, I'm not strong enough to be a real Guardian, and now she's deleted because of me...
Where was that voice coming from? Was it even a voice? Bob looked up to see... Glitch?? The keytool was hovering in midair in front of him.
Bob stared up at Glitch in bewilderment. A keytool was choosing him? A sorry excuse for a Guardian Cadet who couldn't even keep one virus under control? There must be some mistake. How could--
Bob blinked and did as he was told. The keytool snapped onto his wrist-guard, and with a whirr, began the transfer. Bob could feel his code being altered, part of it pulled out and replaced with code from Glitch.
Bob didn't even have to think about it. "Glitch: system scanner. Track and lock on Killabyte."
That virus was still out there, somewhere. He had deleted Dixon, but Bob would not let him harm anyone else.
~ * ~ * ~
Killabyte had escaped to an unregistered system--one that had never had contact with the rest of the 'Net before. Bob was very curious as to how he managed that, but it would have to wait. Right now he had a virus to find and a system to protect.
A scene of absolute chaos greeted him as he stepped through the portal. Buildings knocked sideways or reduced to rubble, nulls everywhere, Tears--well, at least he could do something about those. "Glitch: mend!" he snapped, and the keytool complied, sending out beam after beam of energy to heal the breaches in the system integrity.
Then Bob realized he wasn't alone.
"Who... what are you?" The question came from a young female sprite--she looked no older than Bob himself--standing a few pixels away. Next to her was another, much younger sprite--probably a relative, judging by the skin color. Both of them were staring at Bob with a mixture of awe and confusion.
Bob's first thought was Wow, she's hot. He suppressed the thought as best he could--got to keep it professional.
"I'm a cade--I mean, uh, I'm a Guardian." Bob gave them what he hoped was a confident smile. "I come from the 'Net."
"The 'Net?" echoed the girl, looking even more confused.
They're unregistered, Bob reminded himself. They don't know what the 'Net is yet. "Yes--from another system. A supercomputer." He looked at the wreckage around them again. Did Killabyte do all this? "I'm so terribly sorry..."
The girl's expression changed from confusion to anger in record time. "You caused this?!"
"No!" Bob protested, but before he could explain, she ran up to him.
"You did!" she wailed, beating her fists feebly against his chest. "This is your f-fault!" She collapsed against him, sobbing.
Bob stared down at her. What was he supposed to do now? Usually, a hot girl leaning against him would be a good thing, but... "No, I came to help! Please, I--I just wanna help..."
I want to recapture the virus I let loose before it harms anyone else. I want to live up to this protocol in my icon and this keytool on my arm. I want to fix what I broke. I just don't know if I can.
"Bob?"
He knew that voice. He looked up to see Prime Guardian Turbo, flanked by two full-version Guardians, step out of a portal. I guess the alert beacon worked after all, Bob thought distantly.
"Bob, are you okay?" asked Turbo, an expression of gentle concern on his face.
Bob didn't answer. He just stood there, amidst the devastation of a crashed system, with a survivor leaning against him crying her CPU out. No. I'm not okay. And I don't know if I ever will be.
Principal Office
Viral Breakdown Chamber
approx. 4000 cycles ago
"One more virus for the deletion chamber."
Guardian Cadet 452, filename Bob, frowned at his partner. "He can hear you."
"So?" Guardian 159, filename Dixon Green, turned away from the control console and called out to the captured virus. "Hey, Killabyte! Ready for oblivion?"
Killabyte just growled and thrashed against his restraints. Not that it would do him any good--the manacles were rated to hold up to a Class 3 Infector, and Killabyte was a measly Class 1. Why he thought he could break into the Supercomputer was anyone's guess... but here he was.
Bob's frown deepened. "Do you have to be so callous?"
"It's a virus, Cadet. A dirty, no-use virus."
"Look, you don't know his story, what made him this way, how--"
"A User made him this way," said Dixon, cutting him off. "A User programmed him to destroy, to infect, to corrupt. Why a User does such a thing is beyond our capacity to understand, so there's no point trying."
She turned back to the console, but Bob wasn't finished yet. "I don't believe a User would knowingly release a virus on the 'Net," he said.
Dixon rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's right, I forgot who I was talking to. I suppose you've written a README file on the psyche of Users?"
"Well, actually..."
"You're never gonna pass the finals, kid."
Bob's jaw dropped. "What??"
"Guardians are here to Mend and Defend, okay? Not sit around trying to work out the way a User thinks or why viruses are introduced into systems." She shook her head. "Sheesh. I'm just glad the Prime Guardian hasn't seen any of your works..."
"I had a meeting with Turbo just last second." Bob grinned smugly. "And he thought my ideas to reprogram viruses for the good were radical."
"Radical." A flat look from Dixon. "Uh-huh. He used the word 'radical' and you think--"
*ping*
"What the--" Bob and Dixon both turned toward the source of the sound.
It was Killabyte. The virus quivered and roared in--pain? anger? both?--and, in a shower of sparks, he pulled his right arm free of the restraint.
Dixon backed away, holding her keytool up to her face. "Glitch, patch me through to Central. We have a four-zero-three in progress!"
"Four-zero-three..." Bob looked from Dixon to Killabyte in alarm. "Viral upgrade?"
Killabyte pulled his other arm free (how in the Web did he manage to get loose?!) and dropped to the floor. He got to his feet and turned toward the two sprites, a predatory gleam in his red-and-green eyes.
Oh no you don't, thought Bob. He stepped forward--
"Bob, NO!" yelled Dixon, just before Killabyte swung around and punched Bob hard enough to send him sailing across the room. The Cadet hit the far wall with a solid thud and slid to the ground.
Frag, that hurt. His head was spinning, and he couldn't move. Bob vaguely heard Dixon screaming and Killabyte roaring in triumph before he stopped hearing anything at all.
He couldn't have been offline for more than a few nanoseconds. He was sore everywhere, and his head was still pounding, but at least he could move again. He struggled to his feet and looked around. The virus was nowhere to be seen, but--
"Dixon!" Bob sprinted across the room to where the female Guardian lay, her body shimmering with translucency. "Are you okay?" he said as he tried to lift her head.
"Bob?" She winced, and her form flickered dangerously. "Th-he virus... he..."
"Just hang on, Dixon." He looked around frantically. There must be a med-team around somewhere-- "Help! I need help in here!"
"Too... late... Cadet..." she wispered. Her eyes fluttered closed.
Bob's eyes welled up with tears. "Dixon, please don't..."
A beeping sound from her arm caught his attention. Her keytool was activating, a progress bar showing code being pulled out of Dixon's body. "No!" Bob shouted in a panic. "Glitch, stop!" Sometimes keytools would obey the orders of sprites other than their operator--please let this be one of those times, Bob mentally pleaded--
But it was too late. The code transfer came to a halt just as Dixon Green's body dissolved into nothing.
"NOOOOO!" Bob screamed in impotent rage, then sagged to the ground, shaking with sobs. She was right, I'm not strong enough to be a real Guardian, and now she's deleted because of me...
::Bob.::Where was that voice coming from? Was it even a voice? Bob looked up to see... Glitch?? The keytool was hovering in midair in front of him.
::Guardian 452,:: said the not!voice, ::I declare you as my new operator. Please stand by for code transfer.::Bob stared up at Glitch in bewilderment. A keytool was choosing him? A sorry excuse for a Guardian Cadet who couldn't even keep one virus under control? There must be some mistake. How could--
::Bob.:: The not!voice sounded a little amused. ::This is the part where you hold out your arm.::Bob blinked and did as he was told. The keytool snapped onto his wrist-guard, and with a whirr, began the transfer. Bob could feel his code being altered, part of it pulled out and replaced with code from Glitch.
::Transfer complete. What are your orders?::Bob didn't even have to think about it. "Glitch: system scanner. Track and lock on Killabyte."
That virus was still out there, somewhere. He had deleted Dixon, but Bob would not let him harm anyone else.
Killabyte had escaped to an unregistered system--one that had never had contact with the rest of the 'Net before. Bob was very curious as to how he managed that, but it would have to wait. Right now he had a virus to find and a system to protect.
A scene of absolute chaos greeted him as he stepped through the portal. Buildings knocked sideways or reduced to rubble, nulls everywhere, Tears--well, at least he could do something about those. "Glitch: mend!" he snapped, and the keytool complied, sending out beam after beam of energy to heal the breaches in the system integrity.
Then Bob realized he wasn't alone.
"Who... what are you?" The question came from a young female sprite--she looked no older than Bob himself--standing a few pixels away. Next to her was another, much younger sprite--probably a relative, judging by the skin color. Both of them were staring at Bob with a mixture of awe and confusion.
Bob's first thought was Wow, she's hot. He suppressed the thought as best he could--got to keep it professional.
"I'm a cade--I mean, uh, I'm a Guardian." Bob gave them what he hoped was a confident smile. "I come from the 'Net."
"The 'Net?" echoed the girl, looking even more confused.
They're unregistered, Bob reminded himself. They don't know what the 'Net is yet. "Yes--from another system. A supercomputer." He looked at the wreckage around them again. Did Killabyte do all this? "I'm so terribly sorry..."
The girl's expression changed from confusion to anger in record time. "You caused this?!"
"No!" Bob protested, but before he could explain, she ran up to him.
"You did!" she wailed, beating her fists feebly against his chest. "This is your f-fault!" She collapsed against him, sobbing.
Bob stared down at her. What was he supposed to do now? Usually, a hot girl leaning against him would be a good thing, but... "No, I came to help! Please, I--I just wanna help..."
I want to recapture the virus I let loose before it harms anyone else. I want to live up to this protocol in my icon and this keytool on my arm. I want to fix what I broke. I just don't know if I can.
"Bob?"
He knew that voice. He looked up to see Prime Guardian Turbo, flanked by two full-version Guardians, step out of a portal. I guess the alert beacon worked after all, Bob thought distantly.
"Bob, are you okay?" asked Turbo, an expression of gentle concern on his face.
Bob didn't answer. He just stood there, amidst the devastation of a crashed system, with a survivor leaning against him crying her CPU out. No. I'm not okay. And I don't know if I ever will be.