Disclaimer: The characters of Reboot, the system of Mainframe, and all other such Rebootish things are copyright to Mainframe Entertainment Inc, and to some extent Alliance . . . dang, can never remember the full name. Please don't sue, I cannot afford savage attack lawyers, or even an attack chihuahua.

Although a MST3K-ing would be welcome. Just tell me where you put it up, neh? :

I also fully appologize to Slack and Hash, my unwitting and unknowing muses in the writing of this fic. May they forgive the lunacy my viewing of their creativity has spawned, and snitching lines from their '10 things I would Like say' page. Their beyond lovely Reboot website (with some of the BEST fanfic & art I've seen!) is at: http://www.c4vct.com/kym/slachash/

Full cheers, praise, and maniacal laughter for Hanako! Without the List to help keep my ego pricked /before/ my friends could read this . . . well, I'd be getting a LOT more teasing than I am now. And those who post at The Lists forums, for saying things that have made me
laugh, and kept me generally level while writing this. May they not lynch me with rubber penguins and fried green tomatos.

My own loony webpage is at: http://www.geocities.com/coravix/
All flames will be re-directed to the incinerator, my brother's bedroom, or used to cook oatmeal.

- - - - - - -

This is a Reboot fanfiction from the slightly questionably sane mind of Silent Steel. Spellcheck, a beta reader, Insane Asylum Inmate #1457, and several cans of Pepsi1 were utilized in the creation of this fanfic. While seasons 1-3 of Reboot have been declared absolute canon in the creation of this fic and will be followed to the best that human
memory can manage without DVD or videotape assistance, post and pre timeline of the series has been declared open territory.

And somebody already shot the 'No Hunting' sign. With buckshot.


Time equivilents:

Pica = Second

Nano = Minute

Micro = Hour

Cycles = Day/24hours

Kilo = Month

Second = Year

(Yes, I know it sounds dumb, but it works in my head. Which says something about the state of my mind)

-------------

### Warning: Incoming Fanfiction###


Virii

By Silent Steel

- - - ^ - - -

*bbbrrring*

"Mmph. Speak."

"Hey, got a first-class rip on the market, galactic shine, if you get what I mean . . . if you're interested, there's no bartering."

"So . . you're saying this game'll rock my world? And you're /not/ going to discuss lowering the price? You turd. This had better be worth it."

"Yah, yah, it is. Now, shaddup about the price already, eh? It's not like I'm charging you more than half of store price."

"The damned compiler you sold me last week wasn't even worth /half/ the store price."

"This is worth it. Trust me."

"Only as far as I can throw you."

"Whatever. Meet you at the bus stop. Have the cash on hand."

*click*

- - - ^ - - -

"Mouse luv, open up /just/ a little more . . there we go."

Ray Tracer grinned as the traps around the Mainframe system went down just enough to allow a single ship through, accepting the rather long password. With a flick of the wrist, he beckoned the transport to follow him as he zipped towards the tear.

- - - ^ - - -

One's first sight of Mainframe was always a memorable one, good or bad.

Bob watched Ray lead the transport in, smiling faintly as he remembered his own two arrivals at Mainframe . . the first time, fresh from the supercomputer, the second after being lost in the web. Both times, he hadn't really known what to expect, but had hoped for the best.

Beside Bob, Mr. Ping, the binome in charge of the port, cleared Ray and the transport for docking. After a few nanos, the binome frowned, and turned to Bob with a snappy salute.

"Requesting virus scan of latest ship, Sir!"

The guardian jumped slightly, having been lost in his memories of the past, and forgotten Mr. Ping was there. The binome sighed, and offered the datapad to Bob, reminding,

"The latest ship, Sir? All incoming vessels are to be virus scanned? The security proceedures enforced by Ms. Matrix?"

"Ah . . sorry Ping, I was remembering things."

"Sir?"

"The times I arrived here in Mainframe . . the first time here, and then my return."

Bob gestured towards the ship, with it's waiting load of sprites and binomes, all of them from other systems. Systems that were learning how to fight back. Bob sighed, then added,

"It's just that I have an idea of how they must be feeling."

Mr. Ping adjusted his glasses, looking thoughtfully up at Bob.

"Not quite, Sir. Nothing could be like those days."

"I suppose you're right. Well, off to work."

- - - ^ - - -

He quietly cursed, clinging to the underside of the dock with barely-extended claws. When were they going to start the blasted scan? This was tiring, especially when he was already half-starved.

- - - ^ - - -

"And all of them are clean, as well as the ship. I'll be helping Mr. Ping sort them out, so I should be back in a micro."

Bob finished, gesturing to the ship behind him in the view of the vidscreen. Dot nodded, the motion almost missed by Bob as the vidwindow closed. She leaned back, rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers. Across the room, Mouse looked up at Dot's tired sigh.

"Workload gettin' to yah, shugah?"

"A bit . . Phong, how /did/ you deal with it?"

"With practice, child, with practice."

The old command.com chuckled, airily waving a hand as the other picked up his cup of cocoa. And ended up spraying the console before him with his first sip of cocoa as the alarms went off.

"SIR! MA'AM! The virus Megabyte has been spotted in sector 31!"

- - - ^ - - -

Matrix dropped off the zip board to the ground, jolting a nearby small statue, of a one binome with odango, enough that it fell over. The street was quiet, doors and windows on all of the buildings tightly shut, and in many cases, bolted closed. A single page from a newsprint drifted through the air, carried on an errant breeze. Off to one side, AndrAIa was talking to several rattled binomes, primarily male ones, who had been having a party down in one of the many small alleys. One in particular was very vocal, a male zero with red hair and a strangely designed black and white coat.

All things Matrix ignored, activating the targeting system of his gun, bathing the world in shades of red and grey. He stalked down the alley, warily looking for a traces of the virus. He'd checked when they'd arrived for a trackable signal, and come up blank. All there was left was searching for potential clues as to just /what/ Megabyte was up to.

Something crunched under Matrix's left boot. The gung-ho sprite glanced around, and then lifted his boot to reveal a small, round, black stone.

Blatantly not part of the normal scenery in this alley, it gleamed and shone with reflected light. Engraved in the side that faced him was . . . a PID? But a strange one, if that. Square in shape, rather than round . . . and instead of the normal triangles, a pair of
half-circles made up the inner part. He flipped the stone over, a creeping sensation trickling up his spine. The Silicon Tor was engraved on the reverse side.

"AndrAIa. Get this back to the main offices right away."