"A freeing mission." Councillor Hamann surveyed the man before him. The young captain sat motionless in his seat, watching the councillors and commander silently. He nodded, signifying that he had heard and understood the statement. "I have a folder of information on the target, but am I correct in thinking that you have been following her for some time already?"

"I have, councillor." Talon nodded, standing as the older man passed him the folder. "Thank you."

"Good. The Horus can leave as soon as possible. Do not take too long over it." Commander Lock delivered his instructions briefly, nodding to the captain. "You may leave."

"Yes... sir." Talon stood, holding the folder. He nodded to the council and left the room, heading for where he knew that his crew would be waiting.

Hours later, the Zion gates opened to let out the hovercraft. Rising from the docks slowly, the Horus left the city for the pipelines that would take it to the surface.

"That's grand love, cheers."

Amie sighed as she set the glasses down, one hand pressing the fabric of her shirt to her skin. The clinking of glass and ashtrays set hr nerves on edge, the smoke seeming to dance around the room in patterns. She detested the smoking rooms of the pub, hated them almost as much as she hated the men who sat smoking, making coarse remarks and peering down her top whenever they got the chance. She collected the empty glasses, setting them on the tray that she held, before straightening up. There were only a few more hours of her shift, until she could go home and sleep through the day, regaining her energy.

As she turned towards the kitchen door, a haze of smoke passed in front of her eyes, smelling of nicotine and beer. She swayed slightly, only dimly hearing the crash of glass as the tray tipped its contents onto the ground. Reaching out blindly, she fumbled along the wall for a brush, a mop, anything. Finding nothing, she crouched, seeing the splintered glass and cigarette butts spread over the polished wood. She stretched out a hand towards a cigarette, withdrawing it sharply as a splinter of glass caught her finger.

A bauble of blood blossomed on her pale skin. Not even a scratch, really, but it got to her. She stared, transfixed, at the blood, a thousand images flashing through her mind. The crash of glass, catching the light as it fell, a scream, echoing through the kitchen, blood. The room swam in front of her eyes, blurring. Darkness.

She woke up to muttering voices all around her. Her head pounded, but she opened her eyes, struggling to sit up. A hand pushed her back down gently, putting only a little pressure on her exposed arms. Exposed. The word shot through her clouded thoughts like gunfire. "Holy...!" She scrambled to her feet, pushing the opened shirt cuffs back around her wrists. They had been rolled up, showing the long, pale scars that stood as a lasting testament to her childhood. Had anyone noticed them?

They must have done - it was a popular topic of conversation, that, the fact that Amie never let anyone see her arms or legs. Her colleagues were caring, but she had heard many rumours and jests flying around the kitchen during dull hours. Wiping a hand across her forehead, she reached for her bag, ready to leave.

"I'm fine, honestly. I'm just ill, I just fainted. I only live five minutes away." She argued down their protests wearily - all she wanted right now was her apartment and a good night's sleep. Or, at least, a couple of hours sleep before the nightmares came back, just like they always did.

The night seemed alive with energy, an energy that normally filled her with elation. Tonight, however, it was different. The energy had a dangerous undercurrent... something wasn't quite right in the air. She hurried through the darkness, skirting the bright circles of light. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, the sleeves down, but the scars were imprinted on her mind. They always would be - would always come back to haunt her, would always shine bright when she closed her eyes. A shout alerted her to her senses, bringing her snapping out of her reverie. She had let her guard down, a thing that never happened.

A small gang of teenagers was in front of her, mainly boys, but some girls too. She turned, caught like a deer in the headlights of an approaching car. Catching her breath, holding back sobs, she ran, stones skittering behind her. The door to her apartment block was ahead, easily reachable, but would she give up before she reached it? The gang was following, she knew, but she stayed straight on her course, the door banging shut behind her as she rushed into the building.

Somehow finding her way up the dark stairs and into her apartment, she sunk down on the floor shivering and crying. It had been a long time since she had broken down like this, and there was only one known cure.

She crawled towards the computer, still crying quietly, and curled up on the beanbag before it. Rubbing her eyes, she switched on the computer, pulling her walkman towards her.

As the tape started playing, she gazed at the screen, trying to ignore the tears that now rolled silently down her cheeks. Suddenly, the screen flickered, and went from its default background to a pure, unbroken black.

"Holy..." she breathed, using one of her favourite expressions. She hit 'escape' quickly, trying to close down the screen. Just wonderful. Now the computer breaks down She curled into a ball, giving up on trying. Well, sod it. See if I care She started to close her eyes, only to snap them open again as words appeared on the screen, letter by letter. It was in a bright green, plain font, and it was just... appearing. She hit 'escape' again, sighing and reading the text when the command didn't work.

'Wake up, Shadow.'

"I am awake," she muttered irritably, taking a moment to realise the word Shadow. "Hang on... how does it know that name. And what -is- it?"

'You are a prisoner in your mind.'

"Oh, sure I am," she murmured, keeping up her commentary on the message. "And I live in Santa's workshop."

"The Eye of Horus is upon you.'

Horus... that rang a bell. She frowned, trying to remember her school history lessons. Horus, the god of... something. She shrugged - it didn't matter, she couldn't remember. She stayed silent, waiting for the next line of text.

'The Matrix has you.'

With that last line, the screen flickered and reverted to its default. Amie sat, stunned. How had the hacker - that's what she presumed it was - known her own hacker alias? And what had they meant? "What is the matrix?" she whispered into the darkness, as the parting words flashed into her mind once again.

'The Matrix has you.'
A/N: Sheesh, this one took forever! Sorry people hugs I liked this chapter, it was good to get in a bit more of Shadow, especially since this fic -is- about her, lol. However, the previous two chapters were relevant, as you should see in a few chapters. I really wanted a bit more of Talon in this one, but I just... couldn't ick Maybe in the next one, when Shaz gets unplugged.

Again, Talon belongs completely to Issie, who has the right to poke me if she feels that I am manking up her characters Thanks for all the reviews people - they're what really give me the motivation to write more! I read and love every review, but I do have a couple of questions to respond to:

Ditzy Beanbag: First, great name! Second, Amie/Shadow is sixteen when she is unplugged... or seventeen... or eighteen. I realised a few days ago that I've got all my timelines mixed up, sorry! But she is in her late teens. And thirdly, yes, she is indeed Irish. Or at least, half Irish. Her father was actually English, which is where the English half of her name came from. I have a lot of backstory for that, but you don't need it, lol!