"Finally, Jpaikman is left with one solitary outpost, much like Berlin at the close of the Second World War. Sadly, Berlin gets hopelessly raped by Guardians from the South and white cruisers from the North."
-|]agomar
|
| battlers chapter 1 DELETE LAST | | | Author: | | | IP: | spider-wXXXX | | Date: | 04/11/00 07:04 | | Game Type: | Other | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 6, Min: 6
Lifetime Rating for RadariG: 5.8000 |  |
Jeremy was tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, and most of all tired of the constant reminder strapped to his arm. The cold, dark iron shackle on his arm led to a chain running down to an obviously heavy box, as it seemed to be made of steel. Often he slung the container over his shoulder, not truly taking into consideration the safety of the contents. The sun had just set, and the box, again over his shoulder, gleamed in his eye, only to magnify his hatred of it. To himself, he rued the day it was put on, and realized yet again that it was more than a box, but a death sentence he had been to ignorant to realize.
Slowly the sun fell behind the horizon, and as it did the sound of an oncoming car approached to Jeremy's rear. Once again he was running from an unseen assailant down a bleak road, but it didn't feel as though he were running, for it had become so incredibly routine. The car stealthily approaching, he stopped dead in his tracks. Sighing, he closed his eyes and winced as the automobile crashed into him, propelling him forwards fifteen feet. Barely conscious, he smiled a grin of relief that it was all over. He laughed at himself, wondering why he had let it go on so long, as he heard two pairs of steps approaching his location.
"Looks like I'll have to start all over," he whispered to the figures.
"Appears so, my friend," answered one, as he pulled a small gun from his pocket.
Jeremy felt the cool tube against his skull, and suddenly everything ended for him.
"Jeremy Redman?" an unseen voice asked.
"That.... was far too long," Redman responded, "but that was one hell of a run for an outlaw."
"You can file for a record at the front desk," the voice retorted sarcastically. Jeremy finally made out the figure of a woman in a blue uniform, as vision slowly returned to him. "I need this room for another user. Gather your things, Mr. Redman."
"Fine, fine. I'm going." he paused. "How long was I in, our time?"
"Three hours. We really could have used that time for someone more interested in spending his time productively."
Jeremy didn't respond to the insinuation. "Who dropped me?"
"User in Atlanta. You were number 1174 for him, and that's just this game."
Standing up, he ignored the statistic and left the room. In the hall, he turned and headed for the lobby, observing various users in their rooms, strapped into their reality. He thought about the box again, wondering what its contents could have done if he had been able to get his hands on them. That Atlanta guy wouldn't have stood a chance...
"That will be 30 Milis, Mr. Redman," The clerk mechanically drawled, not looking up from his magazine.
Jeremy pulled out his wallet, punched the amount into his bank card, and slid it through the validifier. Approved, of course, as he had over 30,000 in the account. Turning, he adjusted the dial on his watch, and evaporated into the air. The clerk yawned, then turned the page.
Redman flipped the viewfinder placed on his desk on, and selected “News Broadcast” from the menu. Today there was a rebellion in the East Canadian guerilla war zones, and the commentary was littered with commentary on the failure of Collecticracy and the ultimate success of Democracy in nations that would adopt it.
“On the lighter side of the news,” spoke the announcer, “development into the User-World system code named FightSim was given a release date in about six months, according to U-W CEO Brent Respin. FightSim is a fighting league giving participants...”
Jeremy had heard enough, as he flipped his phone open and dialed Respin.
“Brent,” he quickly said, “six months? Six months? Are you out of your mind?”
Respin calmly responded, “Our developers have assured us the system will be operational in three months. I have no reason to doubt them, and that still leaves three for testing...”
“In three months the idiots will hand you a half-baked engine with loopholes punched all through it. Do I need to remind you what fools we looked like when SorcerySim came out?”
“SorcerySim was an underfunded project, Jeremy. This has commanded our full attention.”
Jeremy shuttered at the thought of that game, as he had been given the task of maintaining the main server, which feeds access all over the world for User-World games. SorcerySim was so flawed that users reached maximum potential in thirty minutes real-time, then started destroying each other, and the game itself. The system overloaded, and ten people were killed when their servers fed corrupt data into their minds. U-W lost over $3.2 billion in legal fees
there, not counting all the fines they were forced to pay.
“It doesn’t matter how many people are working on it, or how much cash you put into it. You can’t just put a design like this together in a year.”
“I’ll Tell you what, Mr. Redman. If you’re so worried, I eagerly invite you to come down here and give the system your torture test. I guarantee you will be impressed. Let’s say three o’clock, tomorrow?”
Hesitating, Jeremy sighed, “Fine.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
|
|
Home
Forum
Starcraft Tournaments
